Lord Anthony Millhaven of Beechwood leaned indolently against mantelpiece of Lady Eliza Montgomery's withdrawing room and surveyed the adornments of the room. Apart from the voracious Eliza, there were four other matrons of the ton, each of whom was well past their use by date and all were built on generous lines. The senior matron was the white haired Duchess D whose husband the Duke was a known fancier of young males. She was in her sixties and it showed in the lines of her rather unremarkable face that was saved by her humorous, twinkling blue eyes. They had a hint of sadness about them. Rumour had it that most of her household staff were strapping young men but most were unsure whether they were for the Duke or the Duchess. She wore quite a modest gown but one with a shallow décolletage that displayed far more than it hid. She was the proud possessor of simply enormous breasts the upper slopes of which showed clearly the lines of lifelong strain of the weight of her bundles of joy.
Next to her was one of the patronesses of Almacks, Mrs. Phillips. She was dour and somewhat dowdy and regarded the handsome young lord through a quizzing glass. Dressed in quite a loose black bombarzine dress, she appeared to have no figure to speak of. The bulge at her waist was either stomach or big droopy breasts. She put down her quizzing glass and regarded the other ladies. "I really don't understand why I am here. You all know that I have important meetings at Almacks today."
"We do know, Jessica dear, but I assure you, what will come to pass is exactly what you need. You have been in mourning much too long and it really is turning you into a sourpuss!" said the Lady Eliza, who was passing out cups of brandy. "More 'tea' Lady M?"
Lady M was a pink cheeked jolly lady – everybody's favourite aunt. Unlike Mrs. Phillips, her figure was clearly of the hourglass variety with barely sagging large round breasts, a narrow waist and substantial hips. She had lost her older husband five years before and was known for her good deeds. Lady M licked her full lips as she eyed the bulge in Lord Anthony's breeches. She loved sucking young cock but there were few young men that were interested in somebody who looked as she did. They all seemed to prefer young girls, the younger the better.
The last woman possessed a most striking figure. She had been referred to as "R" and wore a veil that covered her eyes and nose. She was quite petite but sported what was obviously a pair of thrusting breasts far too large for her torso. Tony was not fooled for a moment. He knew who she was. He had been admiring that figure, and those titties in particular, for many years. It was his Aunt Rose, his mother's younger sister. She was a spinster and was the headmistress of a boarding school for young girls. He had speculated often that she preferred pussey to prick. What was she doing here?
Lady Eliza was wearing another lemon creation with a lacy bustier that revealed more than it hid. Her big round breasts with their crinkled uppers and prominent blue veins rolled and swayed within the loose confines of her dress. He could almost smell the heated invitation of her oleaginous cunt. Since he'd fucked her the first time, she had spent most of her free time scheming to be fucked by him again. Her own daughter had provided one excuse. While she knew Tony was a prodigious fucking automaton, she had some doubts that there would be any left over after he had dealt with the other four matrons.
"Ladies! For your delectation, Lord Anthony has agreed to provide you all with an afternoon's diversion. I have set aside a room for you each to indulge in private. If you all follow me, I'll show you to your room. Tony, would you be so kind as to escort the Duchess." Lady Eliza led the troop out of the withdrawing room and up the wide stairs of the Mayfair mansion with Duchess 'D' bringing up the rear with her hand on Tony's arm.
Ensconced in a pretty bedroom, Tony observed the aristocratic duchess. She was clearly nervous and clutched the snifter of brandy in trembling hands. "My dear lady, please calm yourself. You're as nervous as a day old kitten."
"I'm sorry, Tony. This is not a situation I am familiar with. The Duke has not touched me since our wedding night, a night I am ashamed of. His breaching of my maidenhead made him puke his wedding feast all over my night rail. The very next day I found him on his knees sucking one of the valets. He made it quite clear that if I indulged in any sort of sexual activity, he would ensure my disgrace. As you are aware, my brother is next in line to the throne and scandal would ruin him. If anybody should find out about today, I ......" she started sobbing.
Tony led her to the large bed and sat her down, his arm around her heaving shoulders. "There, there my dear. You shouldn't worry at all. Nobody in today's assemblage will utter a word. They all need to keep their secrets." Pausing reflectively, he said, "I take it then that you are practically a virgin, madam?"
"There's the rub, sirrah. I have heard it whispered that I have been having a grand time with the young men of our household but none of them have been for me. Besides, I am no oil painting, and as I have aged, I have become even less attractive to men. Our butler is the only man who pays me any attention and I am sure he is interested in me. He is the only male member of the household who has not been attacked by the Duke."
"Good grief, my lady, we must make amends for your years of neglect. It is true that your face may be described as lived in but your eyes are beautiful. I cannot wait to see them alive with passion. You have absolutely magnificent titties, and as my father often told me, one does not need to look at the mantelpiece while stoking the fire."
"Tony! What a positively rude thing to say, young man." Her supposed stern rebuke was ruined by a girlish giggle.
"Stand up, dear lady and allow me to get at the goods." Tony stood her up while he remained seated and divested her of her glass. He imprisoned her robust thighs between his and began unbuttoning her dress. Very soon he was able to slide it down from her shoulders and over her hips to puddle at the floor. Her well filled petticoat was next. Tantalisingly slow, he inched it down revealing her luscious milky white breasts until it snagged on the upturned buttons of her untried nipples. Freeing the garment, he filled his hands with her weighty bosom and groaned as he buried his face within her cleavage. She was warm, smelling of lavender and slightly perspiring. He ran his thumbs over her crinkled areolae and experienced a lurch in his pants as he felt them ripple more and the nipples rise into prominent strawberries. He fell upon them alternatively sucking, biting and pinching ignoring her pleas and moans as he fed like a starving baby. Abruptly he stopped laving her and looked up to see her eyes shut tight with several fat tears running down her cheeks.
"Madam, please don't overset yourself. This is quite a normal prelude to what is to follow."
"I know, I know," she sobbed. "It's just that no man has ever kissed or suckled on my breasts. You must know how I've yearned for a baby to do so."
