Lord Anthony Millhaven of Beechwood leaned indolently against the kitchen door frame observing cook as she rolled pastry. Back and forth, back and forth, she industriously rolled and flattened the big piece of dough. What made it entertaining to him was that she faced the doorway where he stood, and, bent over and dressed only in a low cut chemise, he was treated to the highly erotic view of her huge milky white breasts rolling and swaying as she moved back and forth. They were bedewed with sweat and gleamed in the dull light. The filmy material displayed her hard thrusting nipples every time she pushed forward. Tony's cock started to lengthen down his thigh.
She straightened and wiped a floury forearm over her forehead and pushed some wisps of grey hair back under her mop cap. She spotted her master lolling indolently by the door. "Lord Millhaven!! I had no idea you were there. Breakfast, my lord?"
"Of a kind, cookie. I do believe it is some time since I paid a visit to your domain."
"It certainly is, my lord. Then again, you have plenty to keep you amused above stairs. I hear it was Abigail last night and Judith the night before that, and both Andrews sisters the night before that. I truly do wonder how you get enough sleep!"
Tony advanced into the kitchen and stood behind the broad arse of the cook. "Keep rolling the dough, my dear. I just love to see your very sexy body moving that way." She did as he asked and thrilled as he reached around her and cupped her big pendulous tits in his hands and rubbed his upright part between the cheeks of her arse.
"My lord, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you had removed the rolling pin from my hands and placed it in your trews."
"My trews, as you call them are about to be unbuttoned as I wish to place my rolling pin in that incredible oven between your legs."
"My lord, I cannot roll the dough properly, trembling as I am. Do not delay as my thighs are sticky already in anticipation. Here, let me pull my chemise down so that you may roll my titties while you are about it."
Tony hoisted the cook's voluminous skirt up over her huge buttocks and unbuttoning his breeches, slapped his burgeoning cock in the deep groove offered up to him. She bent over and rested her elbows on the table as he grabbed his stiffening prick and ran it up and down the hairy slit thus presented. She reached behind her and grabbed his red hot cunt poker and rammed the first couple of inches into her molten slot. He took firm hold of her massive baby feeders, and, hunching his knees, drove his cock into her hot heaving depths until his balls collided with her dripping hairy gash. Instantly, she clamped down hard and released a flood of slimy cunt juice that bathed his balls.
"Oh, I say, cookie, you were a bit eager for a bit of dick, my dear?"
"My lord, I haven't had any cock since you were in here last week. Oh, don't stop. Give it to me slow but hard. Old Jones the smith is no longer up to it and the only other serviceable cock is being used by that Johnston fellow. The rest of the household is full of big breasty tarts all out to have you sire children from them. Please pinch my nips hard, oh harder, please, your lordship."
Tony rode her at an almost stately pace thoroughly enjoying the almost continuous orgasms he was ringing from her stout mature body. Her tits were warm, soft but still firm, the nipples not too big but very sensitive. The oily sweat that covered them from her dough rolling exertions enabled a slippery and sensuous caressing as he stroked them from base to nipple and back again, pausing occasionally to nip and pinch the hardened tips. He sped up until in a frenzy punched his sperm deep into the neck of her womb and delighted when she clamped down and rhythmically ensured she received his full load.
"Ah, ah, my lord, there's none better than you. You reach places no one has been before." She sighed. "I wish that stupid scullery girl would get over her morning sickness. She's been absolutely useless since you impregnated her. I'd love to get you hard again for another romp but I must finish this work or nobody will eat today." Reluctantly she used her educated cuntal muscles to squeeze his detumescing prick from her slimy depths pausing as the glans exited to ensure that not a drop was left to spill on her shiny floor.
"I say, cook, you're still one of the all time great fucks it has been my pleasure to enjoy. I really must get you to bed with me one night so we can really have a romp or two. Nothing would please me more than to anoint your titties after what I am sure would be a delicious titfuck."
"My lord, I live in hope."
Tony did up the flap of his immaculate trousers, gave the cook a kiss on the cheek and wandered off to have his breakfast ready in heating dishes on the sideboard. Abigail, the downstairs maid picked up his dishes and stood stoically trying not to whimper while he ran his hand up her dress and very deliberately pinched her rampant clit. The door opened to admit the butler Johnston and she reluctantly removed herself with the plates to the scullery.
Wiping his thumb and forefinger on his napkin, Lord Millhaven scowled at his foppish butler. "Yes, Johnston, what is it?"
"Excuse me, my lord, but you have a visitor. Unannounced!" he sniffed. "It's that new laundry maid Annabelle's mother, a Mrs. Haywood. She wishes to ensure that her darling daughter is being properly employed and looked after."
"Hmmm, Annabelle. Can't say I yet had the pleasure of looking after her. I expect Mrs. Forsythe recruited her to replace Bessie. Damn shame she married the groom back at Beechwood. She had a certain charm about her."
"If you mean big tits, big thighs and a willingness to suck and fuck at the drop of a hat, or rather, the drop of your breeches flap, then yes she had the same charm that the rest of your doxies have!"
"You are just jealous, Johnston, because I won't employ more than one receptacle at a time for your perverted lust, you sad faggot," said Tony, not in the least offended. "I presume Mrs. Haywood is in the front parlour?" He got up and strolled to the door, along the passageway and into the parlour.
Mrs. Haywood stood as he entered and almost gasped out loud. He was tall, dark and extremely handsome, his noble features topped by a Byronesque halo of black hair. He smiled lazily at her, dark eyes glinting and his strong white teeth shining against his dark visage. From the breadth of his shoulders to his slim hips and long legs, he was every inch an aristocrat. She could easily discern his prominent genitals through the material of his immaculate trousers and was annoyed to feel a spasm of lust course through her.
He advanced on her with his arm outstretched and she immediately dropped into a curtsey. His eyes gleamed as he saw the deep crease of her bosom. "Mrs. Haywood, I presume? Young Annabelle's mother? I say, you look much too young to have a daughter of eighteen." He noted the crimson blush that stole up her neck from the upper slopes of breasts as he leant over and brushed his full lips over her middle knuckles.
"Ooh, my lord, she is the third of five children, three still living. And a good girl. She has been brought up correctly in the Christian way. Her instructor in needlework has endorsed her as her very best pupil." Trembling slightly, she backed away from the over powering young Lord Millhaven and gathered herself. "As a concerned mother, I am here to ensure that she is being treated fairly and not being beaten too often."
"Dear Mrs. Haywood, I can assure that no servant in my house, either here or at Beechwood has ever been cruelly punished. My housekeeper, Mrs. Forsythe, is most astute at picking staff that fit in well with the remainder of the household. I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting your daughter in person, but Mrs. Forsythe has assured me that the girl is extremely amiable as well as efficient and excellent in her work."
Mrs. Haywood beamed and allowed Lord Anthony to place her on a nearby divan. The anxious mother was becoming calmed and Tony insisted she partake of a glass of Spanish sherry while he rang for Abigail. She appeared at the door and curtseyed. He asked her to bring Annabelle to him. He sat next to Mrs. Haywood and observed her closely as he sipped his madeira. Her blondish hair was starting to grey and he was pleased to see no evidence of artifice. Her cheeks were a healthy pink and only a few lines showed on her neck. The bodice of her dress was tight enough to push her very large bosom up and in to create charming bulges of breast flesh with a deep crevice. It was clear she wore no corset and was stoutly built. She was dressed in black, a sure sign of mourning. But, it was the bulging tits that had his cock interested. It was raising its cunt sniffing head, as it always did when unexplored territory hove into view.
