I write these words sprawled across my young butler's thigh, the taste of his phallus on my tongue, the sweet musky fragrance of his testicles in my nostrils and the flavours of his most intimate orifices on my fingers. He tolerates the press of my naked breasts on his manly leg as he does the scratch, scratch, scratch of my quill and the splatter of my ink on his person, his finger in my sex stirring the seed he has recently deposited there, a finger frequently transferred to his mouth in order to taste me and himself. We are as happy as creation will allow.
Bentley, for such is the excellent fellow's name, has been running my household for a while now and in that time has transformed me from a clueless widow encumbered with a household of dowdies into the happiest of women, mistress of a picturesque country seat peopled exclusively by beautiful young men happy -- eager even -- to bend to my every whim.
But we have a secret. As I recently found out, Bentley, far from being a humble working man proficient at running a household and finding out escapades for his insatiable mistress, is a Lord and a Lord with a fortune several times my own, which is itself extensive. Despite his extreme wealth, his unassailable position in society, his kindness, his ingenuity in creating the most satisfactory of sexual adventures and his unparalleled beauty -- of which more later -- he finds me, a woman more than twice his age and never more than passably attractive, the mistress of his heart.
When he first came into my life, it was a prank devised by himself and his cronies to pose as butler to the recently bereaved wife of a dull country squire. Perhaps he had set out to humiliate me but, even by his own admission, on meeting me and encountering a boldness that even I knew not the origin thereof, he was smitten and decided to go on an adventure of discovery.
To make a long, if exciting, story short, he declared marriage to me, a proposal I declined, having lived too long under the constraints of a husband. However, my feelings for this sweet, beautiful young man -- so masculine that his black beard seems to grow under ones very eyes - are strong and so we have decided to live as husband and wife in our hearts but as butler and mistress in the real world. It is an arrangement that has, so far, proved to be perfection.
Following his proposal and despite my refusal, Bentley suggested that we should embark on a honeymoon of sorts. I thought it a most excellent suggestion as I had travelled but little and never outside the confines of my own country. And so we set on a trip to Paris taking a small coterie of my boys and my superannuated maid, Sarah, to attend upon me. Even to those intimates of my household, Bentley was my butler though some perhaps suspected there was a more intimate relation between us.
'I can't wait to see my lady's quim ravaged by the most beautiful young men of the continent,' Bentley said to me that day as we lay, post-coital, in my bed at Heaton awaiting the arrival of breakfast, which, when it came, would mean a quick exit by Bentley and a lavish portion of young penis for me to feast upon along with my breakfast, my habit being to enjoy the beauty who woke me along with my dainties and tea.
'So, which of the boys do you think we should take on our adventure?' I asked Bentley, as he fed me droplets of precum from his beautiful thick penis.
'Before you choose, my lady, I have a "wedding" gift for you that may influence your decision,' said Bentley, climbing out of my bed and into the special breeches I had created for my household designed to allow me to survey their phalluses at all times. Bentley's breeches were so cut that not only could I see the delectable ridge of his helmet whenever I wished but even the thick veins that run along that most beloved member.
'If you are ready, my lady,' he continued, tying his shirt at the neck and rolling his stockings under the ties at the knee of his breeches, 'I will bring the present in.'
I was all anticipation as Bentley's surprises tend to be of the most excellent nature and so I sat up in my bed, slipped a nightgown over my head and prepared for the presentation as Bentley exited my chamber promising to return with the gift presently. Left alone, my heart -- and my sex -- could not help but flutter in anticipation and I found myself dabbing rouge on my cheeks and lips and spraying perfume in the air though the scent of Bentley's seed was my heart's favourite.
Then, moments later, a double rap on my door -- Bentley's special sign -- and, without my needing to give permission, the opening of said door. Bentley entered and behind him a figure entirely obscured by a cloak, which covered it from head to floor. All I could tell was that the figure was tall, exceedingly tall.
'Are you ready, my lady?' asked Bentley, who knew that I was from the look of tantalisation on my face. I nodded, like a child on Christmas morning and Bentley reached out and let the cloak fall revealing my gift.
A lesser man than Bentely would have had the figure under the cloak naked to provide a moment of surprise but my Bentley knows that his mistress likes to unwrap her own presents and so what I beheld in my chamber that morning was a youth, perhaps 19 years of age or thereabouts, of exceeding beauty. His natural hair was fair and tied back with a loose ribbon, his eyes of the most captivating blue fringed with unusually dark eyelashes with almost black eyebrows above them, his skin the colour of honeycomb. A mole aside his perfect mouth was the detail that made the whole face perfect.
As for his figure, apart from height -- I would hazard somewhere above six foot and two inches -- he was broad of shoulder and thick of thigh.
'This is Carl, my lady,' said Bentley, seeing the delight upon my face. 'Say good morning to your new mistress, Carl.'
'Good morning, my lady,' said the exquisite youth with a smile that lit the room and revealed beautiful snowy-white teeth of a regularity rarely seen.
'Turn him around,' I implored, my hands clutched to my breast. Bentley took the young man by the elbow and turned him so that he was facing towards the window that looks out onto my ornamental lake. From behind he was broad of back, narrow of waist and with buttocks that, even in these regular breeches, looked muscular and meaty.
'I love him,' I said excitedly. 'May I unveil him now?'
The beautiful young man was smiling at me, a welcoming smile as if inviting me to do with him what I will.
'Of course, my lady. He is yours.'
I betook myself out of my bed and approached the beauty with no little excitement. Reaching up to his neck, I untied the bow and allowed his shirt to open. The skin within that linen cage was creamy smooth, the nipples pink fondants and not a hair. I introduced my hands inside the shirt to find he was as soft as buckskin, the nipples hardened little studs that caused him to gasp when I pinched them between my eager fingertips. I giggled like a child. He smiled sweetly at my heightened excitation.
I took the shirt by its hem and he lifted his arms though I was too small to take it over his head. Most excellent Bentley had foreseen this and placed a stool in front of the boy for me to stand on so as not to deny myself the pleasure of removing all of the lad's clothing. Lifting his arms again, I unveiled him of the shirt, holding that garment to my face to breathe in his clean manly aroma as my eyes feasted on his naked torso.
I then hopped from my stall and crouching, most un-lady-like, began to undo the bows on his shoes. 'May I do that for my lady?' beseeched Carl, clearly unhappy that a lady of my quality should be at his feet like Mary Magdalene.
'My lady enjoys unwrapping her own presents,' said Bentley, not unkindly, to the boy as I undid the second of the bows and removed both of the shoes before pulling at the stockings and removing them from his feet. And what feet. Big meaty working man's feet. Clean and veiny and powerful. I caressed them and the boy jumped a little at the ticklishness of the act.
Standing back erect, I appraised young Carl from his beautiful face with its beauty spot down his perfectly sculpted torso, muscular for one so young, to his sturdy calves and those beautiful feet. Then, moving towards him, my face level with those fondant nipples, I took my trembling hands to the buttons on his breeches. After some fumbling, the buttons released and the breeches fell to the floor leaving my new boy in just a shapeless pair of undergarments. Undergarments have been banished from Heaton and so these were the last pair he would be wearing until he left my employment.
And then looking at the boy in the face so as to increase my pleasure and surprise at what was now to be revealed, I released the cord holding the undergarments and let them glide down his muscular thighs to join the breeches around his ankles, still intent on holding back the pleasure of the view that awaited me. Slowly, I lowered my eyes until the entirety of this most beautiful of wedding gifts was revealed to me.
Carl's penis, which was already horizontal and pointing towards me in anticipation of the attention it was about to receive, was a thing of real beauty. Perfect proportions, large as befitted such a tall and broad lad and with a foreskin that allowed just the tip of his penis to peep out at me. But it was his testicles that took the breath away. The largest testicles I had seen in a life of appraising many a young man's anatomy. But large in the most beautiful of ways, there was nothing monstrous or freakish about these beautiful orbs.
I looked at Bentley, a look of surprise on my face. He smiled back and me and nodded as if to say, 'Yes, they are prodigious.'
