Dukes Daughter And The Marquis

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."

"Let it be the case of our celebration," says Lord Rindon.

Anne laughed. "Honest. I like that. Though I agree. Do you think we should get back joining the fashionable lot?"

"Later," was his brief reply.

He disengaged, forgetting he released his seed that it dripped out of her. So while Anne stays in place holding up her skirts, exhibiting playfully to stretch her thighs, it presents her loveliness: two moist labia latched by a swollen nub and two pinkish sheaths tender from grinding.

All in the middle of her long legs. Rindon's adoration moved him, he kneeled and caressed those ivory limbs as he cleaned her with his tongue. Anne moaned, looking below as gaping and sticking her tongue out.

He stood and with a look, signalled Anne of her turn. So Anne tended him with attention. Stuffing him to her mouth until he was aroused again. But he stopped her, lie down and spread himself so Anne can sink and lick his arse. She took some of the juices inside her cunt and spread it for the entrance of his bum.

Sebastian always carry an oil with him, so she applied it with her hand, nail-trimmed, sumptuously oiled. It was now Anne's turn to watch him writhe in pleasure, but Sebastian is too self-possessed he was only grinning at her. While groaning, she continued taking him to her mouth, while stroking fingers inside his arse, fondly touching his favorite spot.

Sebastian convulsed and jerked he spurted making Anne gulp his seed to swallow. Her lips, once removed from him, drips his white fluid. He spurted again, and groaned. "Oh, Anne... Lady Mosewell you're a goddess," he gasped.

Anne laughed until they fixed themselves. They sat on the sofa and ensued a kissing session instead, Rindon's hands all over her waist and Anne's hands on his head and shoulders.

Anne eventually got bored that she ceased. Her mouth frowned out of dissatisfaction. But Sebastian is not done with her yet, she released her bodice to suckle her breasts. Anne remained worn by the lack of novelty to the repertoire. She absentmindedly held Seb's head. However, it came to her surprise when he positioned himself well enough that he put his cock between her tits and instructed her to hold them for him.

Now Anne was enlivened, so with her equal perversion, her tongue met the tip of his cock and lightly licked them whenever it came up near her chin. Sebastian hissed. "Now, that's what I like from you," came his struggling harsh tone of praise.

It kept on, until he ejaculated once more and made a mess on her face. Anne was about to take out her handkerchief when Seb asked if she would clean it instead with her own tongue. Anne did but not without giving him the satisfaction of seductive glances. Lord Rindon was not immune, so he kissed her multiple times afterwards. And they return to their kissing session, in leisure.

Soon after, both of them relaxed in a lover's embrace of two young people privileged enough to feel that they are nothing but bored. Staring outside and sitting on a couch. Once they decided that their tryst had taken up their time, they arranged themselves to finally rejoin the party.

"Wouldn't it be convenient if I will just officially court you, Mosewell?"

Anne looked at him, arranging the pins of her hair. Unimpressed. "Of what accomplishment it shall bring? To lead the Ton into hoping we'll end up married," Anne groaned at the idea of the Ton. "Would you even wish to be married, my lord?"

Sebastian grunted. "Hardly. But courting you finds it more convenient for us to engage in this hobby. And marrying you wouldn't hurt, would it? They'll find our bodies joined and naked like rutting dogs and society won't bat an eyelash."

Now Rindon has a point, Anne thought. She took the pin from her mouth as she adjusted it to her hair before she began to speak. "For marriage, I have nothing else to do or complain. I wouldn't mind if it was you, just so we can ease the set of our sexual congress. Will you not tire yourself in this arrangement?"

Sebastian sighed. "Quite. But I'll be goaded to marry and produce heirs later, anyway. Mosewell, we exactly both have what we can need--"

"You do surmise that from our frequent encounters I had not yet conceived?"

That took Sebastian aback, "was it not because you drink those tonics and the ways you clean your insides?"

Anne's eyes glimmered and smiled. "You caught me," and then laughed.

Sebastian did not react immediately before figuring out the thought. "Smart she-devil," broke Sebastian's reluctance. "Hardly you can convince me of impotence."

Anne tuts, shaking her head. She leaned more sideways to her seat. "It could've been my concern, my lord. Barren."

Sebastian made an incredulous face. "A prime woman close to my age? Nonsense." He stretched his arm on the couch's spine.

Now, for Anne, Sebastian's rather an optimistic sort as long as he sees it in his concern. "Would you still believe in me, even if proof glares at your sight?"

He beckoned his hand. "Come, and I shall prove my potency. As long as you promise not to drink your herbs and clean my budding seed that brings life to my child."

Anne was amused. "Fast. Too early to distinguish if it's yours or mine when no such thing even comes to life. Would you even want an heir now?" She laughed. "What if I don't wish to have one?"

Sebastian let a pleased smirk on his face. "But wouldn't this not suffice to persuade you? We could rut in the hallway, ask all stable boys who possess the most sublime cock in this kingdom to please you under my house, and society wouldn't care about excess. As long as they are impressed of your marriage."

Anne did not lose her grin. "What will make you certain that what I conceive is truly yours?"

"They wouldn't touch your cunt."

Anne truly finds time for a boisterous laughter. Sebastian is quite a man, is he not? "Tempting offer. But hardly do I wish for marriage."

Sebastian found it the appropriate time to stand up and offered his arm. Replenished well and fair. "Oh, you would soon be," he spoke. "Once you grow tired playing hide and seek for fear of scrutiny. You well know how it punishes our unprescribed morals--or lack thereof."

Anne did not reply as they walked on. Perhaps, contemplating the matter.

"Send a missive if you wish me to officially court you. Then, I'll tend to His Grace."

When Anne had a thought of it, she was truly indifferent of whether she married or not married. If being married to the man he loved, Sebastian comes close to someone she might as well approve of; if that pleases her. Not that she had fallen in love with him or anything on that matter. But Sebastian had her regard.

Thus, she sent him a missive and came to the official ceremony of tedious courtship where chaperons and watchful eyes exist; they are left with decorous socializations. Polite, demure, well-mannered, as if there is innocence talking with Sebastian. When time finally agreed that they should spend their time alone, this is what possessed Anne's tongue:

"Should we fuck or not fuck?" Her contemplation came. "We do it every time we see each other. Would we not incite any more acts that weary us of novelty?"

Sebastian did not hear her, for he rutted her in the woods. Anne cried as a pleased female wrung out with rapture in response. "Outrageous if you claim we did so everytime we see," Sebastian replied when he remembered this from her, "we have been barred by these outstanding chaperons for weeks. Let me have my fill."

So he did.

Soon, an announcement of engagement was released. Not long after, their marriage took place. Anne came up with another question: would you bring Devon around? What if I have his child instead of yours?

Sebastian smiled.

"He had not seen you ever since that day. And never mentioned you, he wouldn't dare, not in my presence nor to my face." He brushed her hair as they sat in bed after their honeymoon's deed. "If you wish, that will be the only time you shall have him. Would you wish to conceive now? You will not have Devon or your stable boys until I'm certain of the paternity of your increased womb."

Anne wanted the tryst as soon as possible. "Oh, no. Forget Devon. I have a better idea, how about accosting me instead to a pleasure house and let us attend a party?" She grinned.

"If five of my children are truly mine."

Anne frowned. "Outrageous. Overbearing," she complained. But Sebastian came wooing her shoulders with kisses until they succumbed to procreate their first heir.

When Anne did, Sebastian teased her about his keen observation that he was not impotent. She was heavily pregnant, but he still took her, suckling her milk that did not taste close to something sweet. Sebastian shrugged, at least it would be healthy for the first born. The first born was a she. Spitting image of her mum. After a two-year break, Marchioness Rindon bore another, with this time being a he.

Sebastian was relieved to have a male in line. But promising five children, Anne was confined for more than a decade of pregnancy until five heirs were produced. Anne did not forget. After tending them on their breastfeeding, she started reminding Sebastian of his promise.

The household soon grew up to see them running around the corners or them frequently absent on a "trip". Frequent visitation of Mr. Devon also occurred to Sebastian's office, untidy in appearance afterwards.

**

Chapter 4

What happens with Mr. Devon, as we all know, is when discussions occur as much as the needed break. During their break, is Marchioness Rindon on all fours on Marquis Rindon's desk, swallowing Devon's cock while Sebastian's cock swallows inside her cunt.

"Devon, come," Sebastian beckoned him to his place. Devon, sliding out his cock from Anne's lip made a sound of moist pop. "Anne, face down, ass up, please. I would like to show Devon your divine charms."

Anne did but not before she asked for a comfortable pillow to lie on her head.

"Magnificent. Look," Sebastian inserted four fingers inside Anne's cunt and it was snugly wrapped. "After breeding, this cunt still stretches like a virgin."

Anne called on to him. "Seb, that's mine to address. Go have yours to flaunt."

Sebastian patted her ass, "of course, it's yours, my lady. I don't need to have one when I'm married to it. Darling, you're my delectable mort." He walked in front of her, and whispered. "Mind if I pound you by fist? Show Devon how I box these days," came the decadent glint of his eyes.

Anne's ears perked, looking at Sebastian equally with a smouldering gaze, "Hmm..." she cooed hiding her face smirking sideways as she licked her lip. "Do it," rounded those lips.

Sebastian, took the cue and proceeded.

"Trust me, I still take time to prepare her like this," Sebastian said to Devon then rushed to grab a bottle of oil to pour it over his hand. He inserted his four fingers, Anne moaned as Sebastian continued, "this is what we know. Watch, however..."