CHAPTER 1:
Disclaimer: Grow a sense of humor. This is a work of fiction, inspired by real events (not disclosed) and by existing figures (real or otherwise). Similarities, etc., etc. and all that it entails, being a work of fiction. If you don't like it, quit reading. Don't whine to me, I'm not interested in your fandom, philosophy, or religion.
...
Jacob turned the bit of leather strap in his hand, admiring a moment the grain and color of the worked hide, studying the lines of fatigue before deciding that it would serve for the day. Tightening the strap with a swift tug, he cinched the buckle and stood up. Kam snorted a complaint, but Jacob wasn't concerned. Kam rarely knew what was best.
With everything in place, Jacob nodded to himself and gripped the saddle, stepped into the stirrup and swept up onto the horse's back. Kam shifted only slightly at the increased weight and stamped his hoof against the moist earth, snorting a plume of steaming breath into the chill air.
With a nudge of his knees, Jacob directed Kam out of the yard and across the rolling hills of his uncle's land. It was going to be a glorious Spring. A pity he had to return home so soon.
...
"Jacob is out riding, sir." the manservant bowed low, his clothes neatly pressed, and his demeanor just as crisp; tidy, a pale-skinned male of forty or fifty years, perhaps, with neatly coifed black-and-gray hair. "His uncle, your brother-in-law, regrettably informed me that your son will likely not be able to return your call until dusk."
"Not unexpected." the minister steepled his fingers and gazed dourly out the window, his lips pursing into a frown. From moment to moment, he seemed to be anywhere from his mid-thirties to late fifties... but always his eyes were bright and piercing. "What appointments, today?"
"Sir, you have two meetings here at the house and another three in the city." The manservant reviewed a leather-clad ledger, his hand skimming down the page ahead of his eyes. "Here, we have Dylan Appleton, nine forty-five this morning, regarding a matter of finance. Also here, Gwenneth Delacroix is scheduled to arrive no later than eleven this morning, though you do not have a purpose listed for her visit. After noon, sir, you are scheduled to meet with the Dunswich Brokerage at two thirty, and then directly to the Hallifax meeting with the Board by three thirty. This evening, at five, you have a private meeting with Martin Dunswich of the brokerage and the note on the schedule is the name "Corinne"- I hope I have not butchered the name, sir."
"No, you haven't." The minister glanced at his manservant, his nostrils flaring slightly as he cast his eyes over the man. Minister and servant were locked together for a brief instant while the minister considered something. "Reschedule my appointment with Mr. Appleton, at his earliest discretion, and call Ms. Delacroix and tell her she's to be her promptly as soon as she's able."
"At once, sir." The manservant bowed, his eyes finding the floor without shifting. "Will there be anything else, before I make such arrangements, sir?"
"Yes." The minister stood and walked toward his manservant. "I find myself with appetite this morning. Have the cook prepare something
substantial
, she will know what to do from there. Thank you."
"Right away, sir." The manservant bowed again and exited the study.
Elliot will have to be sent home, soon.
The minister watched the servant as the man walked away, noting the precision of his gait and the measured breathing.
I wonder if Martin Dunswich would prove half so competent?
With the barest quirk of his lips, the minister turned back to his study and took a deep breath. It was going to be a glorious Spring.
...
"Jacob..." He could hear his name in her breath, could almost see it rising in the clouds as she gasped. Phoebe's legs clamped around his ears, smothering the sound of her voice and filling his ears with the thundering of her pulse in her muscled thighs.
Farmer's daughter, indeed.
Jacob couldn't grin, though the thought amused him. Instead, he twirled his tongue against the young woman's soaking pussy and flicked against her clitoris several times, eliciting a shudder with each stroke. Her milky skin was smooth and soft over toned, developed muscle. The sensation of touching her excited him, her scent intoxicating. The throb of her legs against his head was making a crick in his neck, but it was a negligible nuisance.
He'd met the twenty year-old coed out on one of his many rides during the latter part of the winter, a dark, hunched mass of thermal clothing slogging through knee-deep snow. Jacob had offered her to double on his saddle back to her home, though he never asked what chore had brought her out in such weather. To be fair: she'd never asked why he'd been out riding. Their sexual explorations had blossomed quickly in the following weeks, and they took to rendezvousing near the shared property line, in a dense stand of trees and brush. Today, she had brought the blankets and he had brought bottled water and ready-made sandwiches. The sky was overcast and the cold air tickled their skin as their sweat grudgingly evaporated from their steaming bodies.
Another shiver washed over his face as Phoebe began to orgasm, the higher pitch in her voice just audible past the bass rumbling of her heartbeat and the slurping noises echoing in Jacob's mouth. He liked this part: when she came, everything tensed... then she would go slack and start to spasm. The tremors, as he thought of them, would last near half a minute, during which her over-stimulated clit was so engorged it hurt to do anything more than breathe on it.
"Jacob...!" And Phoebe's breath caught in her throat, her pale face darkened as blood rushed to her head. Jacob watched expectantly, his body steaming with sweat in the chill Spring morning. Phoebe clutched at his light brown hair, grasping in bunches and holding tightly. Jacob winced as her fingernails dug into his scalp, but offered no complaint. His hands cupped her hips as Phoebe thrashed with ecstasy.
After several moments, Jacob breathed deliberately on Phoebe's soaked lips, noting the way her body shook and the skin folded a certain way. The slight cooling made her clitoris tuck deeper into the folds of her labia, though he could see it clear enough moments ago. Phoebe gasped, pursing her lips to exhale slowly as she shivered. Her breath was a jet of vapor that slowly billowed above them and vanished into the afternoon air.
"That was amazing..." She offered at length, still breathing heavily. Jacob crawled up from her crotch, their hips meeting. "... How do you not have a girlfriend back home?"
"I wasn't interested." Jacob leaned down, kissing her lips, letting her taste herself on his mouth. Phoebe moaned, clutching his shoulders and running her hands down his arms as their tongues caressed each other. Jacob's cock twitched impatiently against Phoebe's pubic mound, eager to find its own satiation. Jacob pulled himself up from the kiss.
"...
please
..." Phoebe's voice was small and pleading, her hips wiggling urgently beneath him, sending a thrill of anticipation through the head of his dick.
