a/n: story dump, made out of my writing practice sesh. raw draft, bad technical writing ahead. badly written sex-scene ahead. published for anyone interested to beta read. all comments and feedback are welcome. no trolling, no bashing please. ty.
NOTICE: All characters involved are 25 years old and above. Involved adults are ideally in consensual encounters with each other. This is a sex fantasy. Stays as sex fantasy. Any mistake or blindspot is owned by the author.
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Chapter 1
Historically Imagined London, 1813
It was a lazy day of their acquaintance. Coming across Marquis Rindon is barely unexpected as this is the year-end holiday for all of the idle aristocrats.
She was busy in the fountain enacting an en plein air painting when Rindon appeared.
"Why do I have the impression that you keep following me?"
"Can I join you?" Came his reply when he stood in front of her.
Lady Mosewell made a bow. "You can, my lord. What would you wish? To be my painting's subject?"
Sebastian made a chuckle before he released his cravat. "If you desire me to be," and began removing his coat.
What was left was his shirt and exposed chest when Anne laughed and told him it was over. Seb took a view and saw only a silhouette form. His head shook. "You seem to take your fill rather than giving it to your canvas."
Sebastian wanted to supplement that.
The next thing happened, Anne's middle was supplemented with Sebastian's. Attached and rigged coming and going in her as she plants her elbows to rise while reclining the majority of her body on her back. "Ah, Marquis. You tire me. Suppose we find something more lasting than this?"
So they ceased, arranged Anne's belongings while he led her to a railing just exactly on his pelvis level and sat her there. It was beside a manicured bush that Anne agreed with its comfort.
She stayed there for an eternity of minutes watching the leisure of being tended in and out of her spread bare thighs and busy cunt, while observing her paramour's singular attention.
How bored can they be during this week-long holiday?
So Anne and Sebastian switched, he assured him he just got out of the bath. This time, it was Sebastian who lay on all fours, while Anne coated her fingers with her lick as she made a ceremony to lick Sebastian's arse. It wasn't enough, he took out from his pocket an oil. Anne tended the preparation with grace, and once her fingers are inside, she giggled.
Sebastian was a helpless moaner, and she stroked him like a lady that she was.
"Anne, stop being such a missish. Gah... Quicker, lass. Punch it," was Sebastian's moaning, insistent.
"Remember last night? Why would you rush to put your hands under my petticoat?"
Sebastian broke himself to a grin. "Because I knew too well you don't have anything under them. I only wish to cover it," came his chivalrous declaration. "Now do it for me."
She, therefore, concentrated her three finger strokes as Sebastian groans and shudders like she does. "You see why I like it?" She asked him once her fingers were out.
Sebastian nodded while he labored hi breathing. Once collected himself to resume, he was inside her again, hips thrusting.
It drove Anne to a drowsy state but she didn't take even a grain of salt on what he uttered. "Hardly you covered me under the table. You did like what I did to you."
She remembered quite well that his fingers trifled with her then. "This hosted party is hardly refreshing, no? To keep us seeking other forms of amusing sport," and yawned.
Sebastian gave his nod. He stopped for a while and lifted her down the ground. Turning her behind and asked her to bend down as she presented her arse.
She did, so after Seb drew up her dress, he took her from behind. Slapping one cheek of her arse and reciting strings of vulgarity. Lady Mosewell groaned and made sounds in accordance to whatever Lord Rindon's colorful tongue mustered.
All of this was accidentally seen in the place of Rindon's trusted secretary, Mr. Devon.
He couldn't believe it. In his focus he could see their exact body parts come into play. Lady Mosewell pink slits, opened up brightly for Lord Rindon's frequent excavation. Not until a sound came from his way that the two broke their attention and stopped a flagrante delicto.
Instead of being befuddled, Mr. Devon knew Lord Rindon's predilection, so with a straight face he presented himself. "They are looking for you, my lord." Keeping his eye only on Lord Rindon's face.
Mr. Devon saw his disinterested gaze and dismissed him. Resuming his way with Lady Mosewell. "Anne, would you believe that the more, the merrier?"
Anne looked at Mr. Devon, void of timidity nor shame, found him equally delectable next to Rindon. "I believe it is, if the additional party is most willing," she replied. "Rindon, let us cease, the toll of my arms ache," referring to how she planted them for her current position in a long period.
They fixed themselves and had Mr. Devon introduced. Lord Rindon referred to him as his university classmate of modest background. While Lady Mosewell flattered them to be quite a pair. Rindon a ginger headed man and Mr. Devon a raven curled sort.
When Mr. Devon admitted his perverse nature to have a cake with Lady Mosewell's, Anne was stripped of covers cooled by the air but warmed by the two clothed bodies as she was sandwiched, and stuffed in her arse and cunt simultaneously.
"You repressed whore, this is what's covered beneath you," says Mr. Devon as he shoves his magnificent cock into her ass. "To fuck you like this?"
Anne gasped with relish, and nodded. "Yes, Devon. Give me that cock."
Mr. Devon grunts and plants his teeth on top of her shoulder. He began to rut her.
Lord Rindon meanwhile brought her attention to her finely stretched cunt. She raised her brow at him, "Rindon, you're always lazy. Taking everything a bit too slow."
Anne couldn't continue when Rindon suddenly slammed three or more thrust in her, she was shocked, she laughed. "No," she cracked aloud, "not that clumsy, my lord," she laughed but ended up groaning. In the end she was carried into a mindless wander that she convulsed.
Devon began kneading her breasts. While Rindon juts his chin at him. "Fine piece, eh?"
Devon nodded. "Lucky bastard. 'Tis one's rare, titled and most willing. Quite a discovery you have."
Sebastian clicked his tongue. "I tell you, Devon. It comes with a refined taste."
"Rotten curs. Don't talk to me as if I don't share your presence, and now you imply me no better than a horseflesh," came Anne's lucid retort.
"No, Anne. But you are a beauty, you see?" Referring to her body used as a fine doll. "Precious and exquisitely tended. Now would you deny that we had not taken good care of you?" Rindon began touching her nub while signalling Devon to pinch her nipples. Anne surrendered but not before speaking, "Seems like you had done this on multiple occasions."
Rindon circled his thumb on her, and winked. "But this one might last," he alluded.
"Ah, chevalier," spoke the lady. When pleasure comes eroding her cooler senses she waived. Closing her eyes as she comes once more. And came another from her arse, and another from Rindon's and Devon's coordination.
Over time they were caught again. This, however, with Lady Mosewell's footmen. Two of someone like Lord Rindon's and Devon. In the end she was feasted over. And by powers of lasciviousness, Anne was stuffed everywhere, in her mouth, two cocks in her fantastic cunt and Devon inside her arse.
Mr. Devon will relish the memory of Lady Mosewell's arse. But Lady Mosewell's mind had fled her body that after multiple orgasms, under Rindon's direction, they took their release in unison to different parts.
Rindon on her cunt, a copious mettle. Devon likewise is generous on her arse. While Anne's one footman took the privilege of draining it to her mouth, as the other footman sprayed his seed all over her body.
Afterwards, Rindon thanked the footmen for their unwavering duty as the men fixed themselves, leaving Anne in her dazed body under recovery.
Rindon relegated this arrangement to Devon as they left. And soon attended the lying Lady Mosewell. "What did I tell you? You cannot complain to me, lovely Anne. You adore it," he goaded, cupping her cheek and tapping it.
Anne riveted slightly, met his eyes, and in a spark, she smiled.
**
Chapter 3
It was a busy hosted opera gathering at Lord Somebody's manor. However when Lady Mosewell looked and fanned Lord Rindon, the two busy themselves to ponder in the library. With Anne's head planted on her hand while bent to meet Sebastian's front. She had been so wet that the smooth slide of him felt snug and natural inside her canal. Until he took slams, twitched briefly and bursted. She had to look back. "Too soon?"
Come to think of it, he came not a while ago. Seb shook his head. "C'est pas ma faute, my fair lady. 'Tis my body. Pay no mind," and continued to gently drill her.
Anne looked on. Noticing the upcoming preparation of fireworks outside the window. "'Tis a wonder I do not find myself conceiving."