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.