Further Adventures of the Maid

Thomas had indeed arrived post-haste. Out on the high seas, the ship tossing in the storms of the sea, he had dreamed of the days he had spent at the Manor House with Phillip and his maid. A man of experience, who had satisfied many a man and woman in his time, he nevertheless had not felt that degree of fulfilment for many a year.

On his arrival Phillip and his wife, the Baroness, greeted him. Thomas quickly dismissed her from his mind: a cold madam, uninterested in her body, who had no doubt denied Phillip access to her unwelcoming sex for years. Thomas was much more interested in the young maid that Phillip had been tupping on his last visit and wondered when they would be meeting her again.

The men were soon safely ensconced in the Billiard Room, large glasses of whiskey at hand and a roaring fire in the grate. Phillip was uneasy about this visit; on the one hand, Thomas would provide a ready outlet for the sexual frustration that had been building within him, and on the other, he brought back unwanted memories of Mary, of offering her to this man, and watching while she was taken. He remembered the night that they had all spent together, both of them inside her together, pounding mercilessly at her, pumping their seed into her and filling her. He remembered being taken for the first time by a man, by Thomas, feeling Thomas's cock move inside him, an overwhelming sensation of fullness, and the relief provided by Mary as she sucked Phillip's cock dry of his come while Thomas drove ever deeper inside him. His cock hardened involuntarily as he relived the memories, the sensations as fresh as though it had happened only yesterday.

It was Phillip's shot, and Thomas noted the hesitation in his game. He used the interruption to ask about the young maid, but at that moment, Victoria, who had been sent by her mother to introduce herself, interrupted the two men.

Curtseying deeply to their guest, the distinguished sea captain, she was very surprised to receive a familiar slap on the rump. Thomas, belatedly, realised that the girl was wearing fine silks and pearls, as opposed to the sturdy woollen dress of a servant. At the same time, Phillip, suddenly startled, knew that Thomas had mistaken his trueborn daughter for Mary, and rushed forward to introduce them.

Victoria, once again quickly dismissed by her father, fled back to her room, her cheeks flaming. She was 18 years old, and had been presented to the Queen during the past season in London, but no man had touched her in such an impertinent manner before. She had attended Balls and Dances at the finest London houses, but any flirtations had not got beyond a surreptitious pressing of her fingers, or a lingering kiss on her hand. How dared he? That huge, muscled vagabond with his loud voice and whisky-breath, how dare he touch her like that? She sprinkled lavender water onto a fine lace handkerchief and inhaled deeply, trying to relax and catch her breath. She would have to face him again at dinner but doubted that she could; who knew what he would try then?

Back in the Billiard room, the men had consumed more whiskey, and Thomas was pressing Phillip to explain about Mary. The story came out about the woman Phillip thought may have been Mary's mother: a beautiful maid who had left the House suddenly 20 years ago. Phillip had been young at the time, recently down from Cambridge, and he had believed himself to be in love with her for a short while, at least until the next beauty came along. He hadn't known of her pregnancy, or of the child she bore alone.

Looking back over the time they had spent, Thomas could understand how Phillip felt; Mary had an incredible capacity for sensuality, willing to explore, willing to experiment, and wanting to please her Master. Thinking back about her, remembering her slim body, her full breasts and her welcoming, wet sex, Thomas felt himself harden. He remembered what she had done, what they had all done, the ways in which they had found a release, and he wanted to bury himself in her again. He wanted to taste her, the warm scent of her sex seeming to fill the room, her eager pleading voice begging them to take her filling their ears.

The atmosphere thickened, the two men both remembering Mary, and their desires began to rise. Thomas made the first move: reaching for Philip, he began to caress the bulge in his breeches, feeling for the sturdy cock that was contained within. Phillip groaned: he wanted to feel Mary's mouth on him, sucking and licking, tasting him, taking him deep into her slender throat. Thomas unfastened Phillips breeches and knelt in front of his friend. Phillip closed his eyes, and his tumescent cock stood proudly, the head distended and rigid, waiting to be taken. Thomas's mouth closed around it, and Philip groaned, imagining Mary's soft lips on him, her gentle hands cupping his balls, massaging him, her slender fingers sliding inside him to massage him there.

Phillip held Thomas's head to him, slowly thrusting his cock into the sea-captains mouth, enjoying the sensation of the other man's tongue against his cock, and feeling the pressure of his throat. His balls were heavy, desperate for relief and, almost as though Thomas was reading his mind, his hands came up to cup them, feeling their weight and caressing them. Phillip could feel his crisis approaching quickly: it had been so long since Mary, and he had taken no other woman since. He spasmed, his entire body jerking, and he erupted, streams of thick seed pumping into Thomas's mouth. Thomas held his hips, making sure that he captured every drop, sucking and licking at his friends cock until the man had no more to give.

Exhausted, Phillip slumped over the billiard table while Thomas got to his feet. His own cock wanted attention, but he realised that his friend had been in greater need.

Thomas's mind was awhirl: he always enjoyed his time with Phillip, but he wanted the soft welcoming warmth of a woman. Without Mary there, what was he to do? His mind turned to Victoria; she was of the same blood-surely the passion that ran in her family ran truly in her? He would have to try and find out.

Several miles away, the woman who occupied both their thoughts had given birth. Her son had been born on Midsummer's day, a beautiful boy who had captivated all their hearts. He entranced Betsy, and the baby quickly supplanted Mary in her heart: she poured all the affection and love she had felt for his mother into the newborn babe.

Mary had quickly regained her figure after the birth; her youthful slim stature had matured into a curvaceous woman, her breasts fuller, and her hips more womanly. Jack revelled in her sensuality: he worshipped her; and tried to fulfill her needs and desires, but somehow this wasn't enough for Mary. She thought back to the times she had experienced in the House, and realised that she missed the discipline, she wanted to follow orders, she wanted to be punished for misdemeanours, and corrected when she erred.

She wanted most of all to contact her Master: she knew that he had wanted her, that he had needed her in his life, and was confused as to why he had sent her away. Jack, despite his lack of schooling, knew that Mary was unhappy, and resolved to cheer her up. He planned a trip to London for her: they could afford it due to their Master's beneficence. Betsy was quite content to stay home and look after their baby: they could go and enjoy themselves and so he began to plan their trip.

To be continued...