The House Party

Chapter 1: Arrival

Lord Marchwood's carriage at long last turned through the impressive wrought iron gates and into the long tree lined driveway of Busswood Park. It had been a long and tiring journey and he was looking forward to reaching his destination. Since returning from his grand tour the previous year Marchwood had lived an almost monastic existence at Culbourne House his country seat. Now he and his former wife were divorced and the mistress he had installed nearby had left him, there was little in the way of sexual diversion. He had made a couple of trips to London to his favourite bordello but even this did not really satisfy his jaded appetite. Some of his old friends had attempted to tempt him out of his hermit like existence but he had accepted few invitations.

When an invitation to a house party from his old friend Lady Bosomworth had arrived, his first inclination had been to offer an excuse. However, after mulling it over for some time, he finally resolved to try and break out of his lethargy. After all, Lady Bosomworth was known to hold discreet weekend parties where licentious behaviour not usually accepted in Victorian society was the norm. Marchwood had attended a number of these over the years and had always enjoyed himself enormously.

His carriage pulled up in front of the impressive Palladian mansion which Lady Bosomworth had inherited from her husband when he passed away leaving her a fabulously wealthy widow some years previously. A footman helped him down from the carriage and he was ushered into the library by the butler. Lady Bosomworth, a handsome woman in her forties stood up and welcomed him warmly.

"Ah Tiberius, how good to see you it has been too long. I hope you did not have too dreadful a journey," she said as Marchwood gave a crisp bow and took her hand.

"Tedious as ever my dear Eustacia, but entirely worth it just to be with you again," Marchwood replied.

Marchwood was the first guest to arrive so he was able to spend some time alone with Lady Bosomworth, as they enjoyed tea and cakes, recounting his exploits on the Continent the previous year. Her ladyship was an old and intimate friend so he had no need to censor his account. In fact, Eustacia Bosomworth was keen to hear all the lubricious details of his adventures.

After a good hour gossiping, Lady Bosomworth suggested that he might like to see his room and have the chance to freshen up. The butler showed him to his room, one of the best in the house with fine views over the park and the lake. Marchwood tipped the fellow handsomely and asked if one of the maids might bring him up some hot water. Mr Grimes the butler was familiar with Lord Marchwood's predilections of old and knew exactly which maid Lord Marchwood would like to attend to his needs so with a conspiratorial wink he left the room. About ten minutes later there was a knock at the door and the maid, Mabel entered bearing a can of hot water which she placed on the washstand.

"Will there be anything else my lord?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"As a matter of fact there is my dear Mabel," Marchwood replied. "You may remember that on my last visit you were able to perform a small service for me. I would be happy to reward you with another sovereign if you were able to oblige me again today."

Mabel know exactly what was being asked of her. A sovereign represented six months wages and all for five minutes work. She did not need to be asked twice. Lord Marchwood had been sitting at the desk writing in his journal but now he turned his chair to face into the room. Mabel crossed to where he was sitting. She was a slightly chubby but rather pretty girl of around nineteen or twenty years, with fair curly hair pinned up under her maid's cap. Her prominent bosom pushed out against the starched cotton of her apron and her plump cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

"Would you like me to prepare you my lord?" she asked.

Marchwood knew that he would need little preparation for what he intended. His celibate lifestyle meant that his well of sexual frustration had been deepening for weeks and just the thought of finding release meant that his cock was already upstanding. However, it would do no harm for the girl to offer him a little amuse bouche before the main course. Mabel knelt before him and slowly and deliberately unbuttoned his flies. She reached into his trousers and extracted his already swollen tool.

"Ooh your lordship, I do believe you are already prepared for action!" she gasped as his purple mushroom head emerged from its hiding place.

Without further ado she applied her cherry lips to his throbbing phallus and began to suck firmly on it. For a couple of minutes her head bobbed up and down furiously and Marchwood attempted to enjoy the delicious pleasure of the girls soft mouth stimulating his raging cock without delivering his load prematurely. He was anxious to enjoy the main course which was to come. Eventually he knew that if Mabel continued with her simple but effective suckling he would not be able to hold out any longer and he instructed her to desist and prepare herself.

Mabel knew exactly what was expected of her from Lord Marchwood's previous visit. Moreover, she had since serviced several of Lady Bosomworth's other gentleman guests, providing her with a nice addition to her meagre earnings as a servant. Old Grimes too was doing well out of the situation, he received handsome tips from any gentlemen serviced by Mabel in return for turning a blind eye. Mabel herself would also offer him the occasional 'knee trembler' in his parlour just to keep on his good side.

Mabel paused for a moment and said, "If you please my lord, will you promise to just go in the back way. I can't be getting with child in my situation."

Marchwood reassured the girl that she had nothing to fear on that score. Mabel bent over the writing desk and pulled up her skirts. Marchwood stood back and admired the rotund globes of Mabel's well rounded buttocks and then travelled down her creamy plump thighs and back up to where a tiny tuft of pale hair peeked from the base of those monumental hillocks. Marchwood reached across to the desk where he had already placed a small jar in readiness. He unscrewed the lid and reached inside, coating his finger with a generous quantity of the special ointment which his apothecary prepared for this specific purpose. Mabel gasped as he gently prised apart her adipose nether cheeks, revealing the prefect pink rosette hidden in the depths of her crevice. He firmly pressed his pinkie against the wrinkled portal and it slid in past the tight ring of muscle into the depths of her rectum. For a few moments Marchwood just enjoyed the delectable sensation of his finger sliding to and fro around the interior of the girl's right anus. The walls were silky smooth made even more slippery by the coating of viscous unguent which he was applying. He then applied some more of the cream to his upstanding prick ensuring a liberal coating.

"Are you ready my dear?" he asked.

"As ready as I will ever be," Mable whispered and then rather more loudly. "Please be gentle my lord. You know I only do this for you sir as a special favour."

This was not exactly true, after all Mabel had been vigorously buggered by Lord Felpersham when he was a guest at Busswood Park only a few weeks earlier. However, she was not going to admit this to Lord Marchwood, wishing to retain some of her virginal allure.

Marchwood inserted his manhood between Mabel's quivering cheeks and positioned his pole against her tightly clenched rosebud. It took several gentle pushes before her tight ring yielded and he was able to push the swollen dome of his cockhead just inside her rear entrance. Mabel knew that she could have just relaxed her bum and his lordship would have slid inside her but maintaining the illusion that she was struggling to surrender her near virginal arse to a gentleman only seemed increase their appreciation of her charms.

Marchwood pressed his cock more firmly inwards and managed to get about half its length lodged in Mabel's back passage. It had been surprisingly easy. When he had taken the girl's anal virginity on his previous visit it had taken several minutes of delicately edging forward until he had managed to get to this stage. He wondered whether Mabel had been practicing in his absence.

"I do believe you are getting better at this my dear, are you ready to be buggered?" Marchwood asked.

"Oh yes my lord and as quick as you like. I don't want to be missed in the servants' hall."

Marchwood began to thrust firmly into the girl's deliciously tight back passage. Her tight O ring firmly gripped his pole, providing the most delectable stimulation as it rubbed up and down his shaft with each thrust. He had no wish to tarry. This afternoon's bout would simply be a prelude to tonight's pleasures but would serve to take the edge off his lust until later. He grasped the girl's ample hips pulling her towards him with each thrust. He was now riding the maid servant hard energetically plunging his pulsating tool deep into her rectum. Mabel felt a little sore but it was not too painful and well worth it for the generous reward she would receive. Marchwood accelerated the pace of his plunging tool and then felt the familiar sensation of his seed rising. He was ready to burst after such a long period of abstinence. Then he felt the recognisable rush of his impending ejaculation. Just before the final burst erupted, he slowed his thrusts, enjoying the exquisite sensation of the girl's tight sphincter rubbing across the head of his cock as he gently worked the tip to and fro inside her bottom hole until he felt the rush of his semen and the powerful surge of pleasure that accompanied it. At that moment he sank his tool deep into the maid's back passage, so the jet of his sperm spurted into the depths of her bowels. After such a long period without relief his climax went on and on as he pumped several blasts of his seed between those delicious creamy cheeks.

"Oh my lord, I do believe you were ready for that," gasped Mabel as she got her breath back.

"Indeed I was my dear, it has been too long," Marchwood panted in reply.

Mabel stood up and smoothed down her skirts. She could feel Lord Marchwood's spunk oozing from her bum and trickling down her leg. She would need to visit the privy and clean herself up before she could resume her duties.

"Will that be all my lord?" Mabel enquired.

"Yes indeed my dear, that was most satisfactory," Marchwood replied.

He suddenly realised why the maid was hovering and reaching into his waistcoat he pulled out the shiny gold sovereign which he had placed there in readiness. Of course, he could have received the same service in London for half the price or less from a true professional. However, there was something delicious about debauching an amateur such as Mabel which was well worth the price. Mabel took the coin and secreted it somewhere on her person and then with a quick word of thanks fled the room.

Once Mabel had departed, Marchwood made use of the hot water she had brought to change out of his travelling clothes and give himself a good wash. He could have summoned Beppe to assist him but he was all too aware that he too was probably tired out form the journey and would probably be grateful to enjoy a cup of tea or a glass of beer in the servants' hall. It was till some time until dinner but he decided to dress for dinner and finish his entry into his journal.

Marchwood knew that other guests would be arriving at the house for the house party but he was unsure how many would join them for dinner that night. It was curious that Lady Bosomworth had invited him to arrive on a Thursday night. The concept of the weekend was only just beginning to take hold amongst the aristocracy, most of whom did not work in the conventional sense so could attend social events whenever they pleased. However, house parties often took place over weekends with guests generally arriving on a Friday night.

Of course Lady Bosomworth's house parties were rather different from those of more conventional aristocrats. It was customary to offer one's guests, particularly the gentlemen the chance to hunt, shoot or fish depending on the season. Activities such as croquet and lawn tennis were also beginning to take off in some circles. In the evening music, dancing, playing cards and parlour games were of course de rigeur. However, everyone knew this was not why those in the know attended Lady Bosomworth's house parties. They were an opportunity for discreet sexual liaisons with person's who were not one's spouse. Of course, many of the upper class conducted affairs or kept mistresses but this was different. There was no expectation of a commitment or a long-term relationship in the clandestine couplings which occurred at Busswood Park. Rather it was an opportunity to enjoy untrammelled erotic encounters with no fear of censure. The accepted convention was that what occurred at Busswood Park was not spoken about in polite society.

When the dinner gong sounded Marchwood made his way down to the dining room and was surprised to find only two places set. Convention would dictate that he and Lady Bosomworth should sit at opposite ends of her enormous dining table but thankfully her ladyship was not a slave to convention and had instructed to the butler to seat Marchwood next to her.

As a footman ladled out soup, Marchwood quizzed his hostess. "My dear Eustacia, I understood that we were to be a house party this weekend. Am I to be the only guest?"

"Oh my darling Tiberius, imagine that!" she exclaimed. "Much as we love one another, I do not think I would appreciate one another's uninterrupted company for three whole days. No, the remainder of the guests will be arriving tomorrow. However, I wanted one night alone with you, partly to renew our old intimacy which seems to have lapsed in the last couple of years and partly because I have a favour to request of you which I thought we should discuss before the others arrive."

"My dear Eustacia, I would never become bored of your company, you are far too amusing," Tiberius responded pausing from supping his soup. "It will certainly be pleasant to renew our acquaintance and hopefully in a suitably intimate way later this evening."

Marchwood's mind quickly flashed back to the many occasions on which he had been intimate with Eustacia. Not least of these had been the occasion when she had seduced him on his eighteenth birthday. His parents had thrown a grand ball and invited everyone who was anyone in the surrounding district and beyond. He was introduced to a whole series of eligible young ladies and encouraged to dance and flirt with them. However, he knew that all these luscious nymphs were closely chaperoned and even as he danced with them, their mamas were carefully scrutinising his every move. Tiberius had a most enjoyable evening but was left feeling distinctly frustrated. He had not been able to steal so much as single kiss from any of those angelic lips and sometimes when he had danced in close proximity to some delectable damsel he had had to exert all his self-control so as not to allow the swelling in his trousers to become noticeably visible.

He was enjoying a break from the dancing, sipping a glass of punch when Lady Bosomworth approached him and led him into a quiet corner. Lady Bosomworth was a friend of his parents, though somewhat younger than them in years. What is more her ladyship was actually Tiberius's godmother and had always taken a close interest in his development and welfare. She had always lavished expensive gifts on him for birthdays and Christmas. He wondered what she could offer him this year. She had been married to the disagreeable but fabulously wealthy Lord Bosomworth when she was still in her teens. Within ten years Lord Bosomworth had been killed in a duel after refusing to pay a gambling debt which he could easily afford. His widow had been left a wealthy woman and though she was besieged with offers of marriage from the most eligible gentlemen in the land, she had refused to enter into the state of matrimony again, pointing out that all her worldly goods would fall under the control of her husband. Instead Lady Bosomworth chose to play the role of the merry widow and it was rumoured she entertained many of the young gentlemen who had proposed marriage as lovers without ever committing herself to any of them.

In a quiet corner of the ballroom Lady Bosomworth advised young Tiberius that now he was of age he should divest himself of his virginity as quickly as possible and acquire some sexual experience before embarking on marriage.

"But how am I to accomplish this my dear Godmother," young Tiberius asked. Her ladyship had acquired the status of an honorary aunt, as a close friend of his mother's. They had already developed a friendly relationship where Tiberius was even confident enough in asking her ladyship questions which he would never dare to pose to his mother.

"Well my advice would be to take up with an older lady, perhaps one who is unhappily married or even better a widow. Older women have so much more experience, which can provide a suitable education for a young fellow such as yourself," Lady Bosomworth explained.

Suddenly Tiberius understood what this beautiful older woman was hinting. "My dear Lady Bosomworth, you cannot be nominating yourself for such a role!" he exclaimed.

"Well why ever not? Am I really so hideous?" she retorted.

"Oh goodness no, your ladyship," he replied. "I mean you are one of the most beautiful women in the room. However, I never dreamed that you would... well you know..."

"That I would be attracted to my dear friend Lady Marchwood's handsome son?" she replied.

"Well you are my godmother, it doesn't seem quite right," he whispered back in some embarrassment.

"Sometimes defying social convention provides some of life's most thrilling experiences," Lady Bosomworth replied cryptically. "Anyway if you wish to lose your virginity tonight, come to my room an hour after the conclusion of the ball."

With that she drifted silently away. Tiberius continued to dance with eligible young ladies but all his thoughts were with the mysterious and delicious Lady Bosomworth. The evening seemed to drag on endlessly but at last he was assisting his parents to put the last of the guests into their carriages. Lord Marchwood was exceedingly drunk and two footmen were instructed by his wife to carry him upstairs to bed as he bade goodnight and happy birthday to Tiberius in slurred tones.

It was just after midnight. Tiberius went to his room, washed and undressed. Lady Bosomworth had instructed him to wait an hour. It seemed interminable. At long last, he heard the clock in the hallway strike one. He crept cautiously down the corridor to the door of Lady Bosomworth's bedroom and tapped on it gently. After a moment, the door was opened and her ladyship pulled him quickly into her room.

"I hope nobody saw you," she whispered.

"No I took every precaution," he replied.

"Very well then let us proceed," she said.

Soon young Tiberius had been stripped of his dressing gown and night shirt and was standing nude before his godmother. She was still clad in her white cotton nightdress but she swiftly pulled this over her head and stood before him in her naked glory. Tiberius had only see pictures of naked women before. The ceiling of his father's ballroom was painted with naked nymphs displaying delicious white bubbies which he had lusted over as pubescent boy. Now he was seeing a beautiful woman in the flesh. Lady Bosomworth lived up to her name possessing the most magnificent bosom comprising a pair of large, firm and rounded breasts each surmounted by a large ruby nipple. Tiberius stared at the these in awe for a moment and then his eyes travelled downwards to the luxuriant triangle of hair at the base of her ladyship's belly. This was something which was absent from the nymphs on the ballroom ceiling, although the pornographic novels which circulated among boys at his school certainly contained allusions to ladies possessing magnificently forested mounts so this was not entirely a surprise.