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The first time he saw her, she looked at him in the way that he looked at her. Her long, blue-black hair, pale complexion, and big, blue, excited eyes made her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. If he was to change two things about her, he wished she had big, Irish, milkmaid breasts with wild red hair. Instead, she was as tall and as she was thin as beautiful as she was flat chested but, her saving grace and most redeeming quality, she was so very beautiful.
Had she been born one-hundred-fifty years in the future, with her rare beauty, she'd be deemed a supermodel and her face would have been pasted on every fashion magazine. Had she been born one-hundred-fifty years in the future, she probably would have married a famous football quarterback instead of the Lord of the Manor. Had she been born one-hundred-fifty years in the future, she probably never would have looked twice at him, never mind marrying him.
Perhaps because she was so sickly as a young girl, her breasts hadn't normally developed. Still, her beauty and her kind and loving spirit made up for her not having tits. She was his Cleopatra and he was her Mark Antony. She was his Juliette and he was her Romeo. She was the love of his life and, as fate always has its way, he was eternally happy that she had married him instead of Lieutenant Adams.
Still happily married to her after 18 years, sadly and tragically, her last illness was her fatal illness. Sick for two years of coughing, no one could help her. No doctor could save her. Before she fell ill, they made love nearly every night. Never too tired for him, even though she opened her arms and her legs for him, she refused to open her mouth for him. She refused to give him oral sex. Obviously, she was scarred from a drunken ruffian forcing her to suck him. Obviously, with her not a lady of the night, she was a Lady and Ladies back then didn't give men, even their husbands, blowjobs.
'Suck my cock,' he wanted to command. 'Blow me. I need to cum in your mouth,' he thought while imagining grabbing her by her long, black hair and pushing her to her knees.
Yet, no matter her social standing, just once, he wished she'd suck him. Just once, he wished she'd blow him. Fixated on her full red lips and her warm, soft tongue, just once he wanted to know what it would feel like to ejaculate the lust that he had for his beloved wife in her mouth. Just once he wished she'd make love to him orally.
Only, she thought that sexual act was dirty and disgusting and thought him perversely perverted for even asking her to take him in her mouth, a place that he kissed. To her, women of the night sucked their customers and other nefarious men did that to gay men. She wanted no part of sucking her husband's prick. Instead, especially since she couldn't give him a child and his rightful heir, she gave him sexual intercourse whenever he wanted, morning and/or night. They were always making love.
Even then, instead of making love, he wished she'd fuck him. Instead of making sweet, soft, romantic love, just once, he wished her could fuck her long and hard. He wished he could fuck her harder and faster. He wished her could pound her pussy until she screamed his name. Only, she was so delicately thin. Afraid that he'd break her bones, he took care not to hurt her.
### SusanJillParker 03 - The death of Elizabeth ###
Lord Dudley fell in a deep depression and became a recluse after the death of his wife.
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It was a cold, rainy, and sad day when the wagon drove Lady Elizabeth to her final resting place. Buried on a hill beneath an old, oak tree on his property, he'd be buried with her too when it was his time to die. Despite the wet, chilly weather, it was a large gathering. Beloved to her family, friends, and household staff, even though the weather was disagreeable that day, everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes. Everyone wanted to be there for Lady Elizabeth as much as they wanted to be there for their grieving Lord of the Manor, Lord Dudley.
Now three years later and twenty-one years after the day he married his beloved Elizabeth, he was as horny now as he was the day after she died. Tossing and turning, sexually aroused as much as he was sexually frustrated, Lord Dudley was too horny to sleep. Missing his wife more at night than at any other time of the day, a time when they usually had sex, he hated being in bed alone. Never getting used to it, missing the conversation before saying goodnight and turning out the light, he hated sleeping alone without his wife keeping him warm and keeping him company.
With her no longer there in his bed for him to hold her, cuddle her, and spoon her, he found it increasingly difficult to sleep since Elizabeth died. He used to enjoy sleeping in his big, manly, four-poster bed, but now he dreaded going to bed alone. Feeling her presence and sometimes even imagining that he heard her voice calling him from the other side, his life changed forever when she died. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since she passed from this life to the next.
He wondered if she was at peace. He wondered if she was happy. He wondered if she was healthy, never to cough again. He wondered if she'd be there waiting for him. Lost without her, even in death, he'd love nothing better than for her to greet him with a kiss and a hug. If he knew for sure that she'd be there waiting for him, he'd take his own life. Yet, he had responsibilities as Lord of his Manor and his household staff depended on him being there for them as they always are for him.
'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee...' he prayed. Whenever he thought of her, figuring that she needed his prayers to make it from purgatory to Heaven, he said ten Hail Mary's.
A terrible pulmonary disease, with her having a cough for years, she suffered with consumption for months, the poor woman. Even though he had the best doctors giving her the best medical care, with nothing else they could do, she died three years ago. With his heart broken and unable to get the sleep he needed to make it through his day, his sadness and loneliness, as well as his eternal horniness and sexual frustration interfered with his responsibilities as Lord of Blue Byrne Manor.
Surrounded by the women that he employed in his household, he'd never violate their trust by soliciting any of them for sex. He couldn't besmirch the memory of his beloved Elizabeth by having sex with any of them. Besides, with them from different social standings, unless he took one of his household staff as his mistress in private, it was expressly forbidden for a Lord to sexually fraternize in public with women who weren't Ladies.
Unless he was very discreet, if he had sex with women who weren't ladies, he'd be disgraced. He'd be an outcast. He'd be shunned from society. Just as no one would accept his invitation to his home, he'd never receive another invitation again. Because of his good reputation, he enjoyed the respect of his family, his friends, and his staff.
Having grieved long enough over the loss of his wife, he wished he had a woman in his life and in his bed. Only, with him obviously still grieving over his wife, other than to ride and walk around his land, he didn't go anywhere to find a woman to replace his beloved Elizabeth. With all women paling in comparison to her, he wasn't interested in any other woman. Besides, not matches made in Heaven, with women not wanting to marry him for love, most women wanted to marry him for his money, his title, his social standing, his house, and his land.
A good-looking man but with hard times everywhere and befalling nearly everyone, the necessities of living oftentimes came before love and romance. It was hard to love when the countryside was filled with poverty, despair, and hopelessness. Unlike other Lords, he felt a responsibility for his staff that superseded his personal wants, needs, and desires. Sadly and unfortunately, it was difficult enough to stay focused on the business of his estate when he was still torn and twisted with grief for his beloved Elizabeth. With his deceased wife's memory always on his mind, he couldn't even imagine falling in love with another woman.