The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance (2 page)

Then suddenly
he tore his mouth from her glorious tits and grabbing her by the
waist spun her around. “Bend over,” he said as he pushed her head
downwards, grabbed her skirts and threw them over her head to
reveal a buck-naked peachy round arse. She had not worn under
garments this morning.

“You are a very
very good girl,” he murmured in a rough voice, staring at the
perfect globes of flesh in front of him. “And do you know what good
girls get?”

She did not
answer; instead she eagerly opened her legs to reveal a succulent
hairy quim. He growled deep in his throat, and quickly taking his
huge cock in his fist he rubbed the slick head against her, so
their juices mingled.

“Good girls get
fucked,” he said, so far gone now, he could barely speak. “They get
fucked hard.” And then with a single furious thrust of his hips he
drove his cock into her, watching every inch of it sinking into her
tight entrance until he was bollocks deep, and she cried out, with
pain or pleasure he hardly cared. All he cared about was the wet
heat wrapped round his shaft and the slap of his tight balls
against her fleshy lips. His cock was so thick he was stretching
her wide and he pulled her arse cheeks apart to watch, as he eased
out and with a grunt rammed back into her. It was a fantastic
sight, that had his cum beginning to shoot up his cock already but
he just about managed to hold it back in time to reach forward and
flick at her little nubbin with his two fingers. She shrieked to
wake the dead and as he felt her quim start to squeeze around him
in a vice like grip, he hammered into her with abandon, once,
twice, three times, until with a high pitched wail she came round
his cock and his own cum shot out of him so violently he filled her
to the brim and when he pulled out, thick wads of it spilled out of
her and ran down her legs. When he gave his cock a last squeeze,
cum still leaked out of him as if he had a never-ending supply.

And he still
wanted to fuck her in the arse, so he used some of the cum to
lubricate his finger and toy with her tight rim as she stood on
trembling legs.

“Has anyone
ever had you here?” he asked, not giving her time to come round. He
did not even bother waiting for a reply; he just bent down and ran
his tongue around the puckered rim, smiling as she gave a shocked
gasp. The taste of his own cum was an interesting experience, he
thought, as he flicked his tongue around her tight opening and
pressed it inside. His fingers trailed through her slippery, cum
drenched lips as his tongue pressed into her arse and from the
little sighs and gasps above he suspected she was enjoying it, so
he drew away and sat back in the chair and pulling her on top of
him, pressed his cock against her hole.

“If we take
this nice and slow, it will be worth it. You’ll see.”

The head of his
prick nudged her tight sphincter and it excited him so much he was
fully hard again. He eagerly pushed his cock upwards, as he grabbed
her waist and pulled her down and he felt the head breach the tight
muscles with a delicious pop.

“Oh yes,” he
groaned. “That’s it! Take all of me inside your tight little
arse.”

From the lack
of protest he had a feeling she had done this before and especially
when once he had breached her, she just sank down onto him so he
was fully encased by her hot tight anus and he closed his eyes and
shook with the ecstasy of it.

“Fucking hell,”
he said, profanity being absolutely necessary at that moment. He
grabbed hold of her waist and gripped her tight, dragging her up
and down his aching screaming cock until the friction made him boil
over and burst again in raging torrents of cum, this time shooting
into her bowels.

He sent her
back to the downstairs world with his cum oozing out of both her
orifices and dripping down her legs, and he would be left with that
image for a long time to come.

Chapter 3

The Earl's Frustration

In which our
regency rake finds he cannot always have what he wants.

Mrs Rawlings
finally captured the Earl of Langham behind a large rhododendron
bush, her ample bosom heaving with the exertion of pursuing him,
beads of sweat glistening on her buttery flesh. Despite his
annoyance Rafe's eyes were drawn to where her dusky nipples were
visible, bursting from the obscenely low cut bodice. These French
fashions were becoming quite risqué of late and who was he to
complain? His prick certainly wasn't. It rose fast and thick in his
breeches, unaware of the dangers a lusty middle-aged woman
presented to its master.

He had been on
his way to the lake, for a much-anticipated assignation when he had
spied the well-upholstered widow positively barrelling down the
path in his direction, calling out his name in her strident voice.
He had had very little sleep that morning, thanks to a night at the
card tables followed by a morning of shoving his cock up one of the
maids, so he had been pretty damned determined to evade this
particular harpy. But she had been even more determined and here he
was, trapped and reluctantly aroused behind an oversized shrub.

“Rafe,” she
growled in her most sultry voice, which made her sound as if she
had swallowed a bee. “Have you been avoiding me, you naughty boy?”
Her tits jiggled as she spoke; dislodging her nipples further and
exciting his unruly cock all the more. “We had such a jolly time in
Bath,” she purred, leaning closer to him and deliberately pursing
her fleshy painted lips to remind him, no doubt of how she had
looked with her legs spread and her cunt open to his gaze. His cock
gave a little leap of glee and he gritted his teeth. “Wouldn't you
like to repeat the performance?”

“Well,
Jocasta,” he said, keeping his voice as cool as possible. “That
would indeed be most pleasant, but unfortunately I am otherwise
engaged. I have an appointment that I simply must keep.”

She pouted in
what she probably thought was a girlish way, and gave a pointed
look at his bulging crotch. “What a shame, for I am sure I could
help you with that unfortunate affliction you seem to be
suffering,” and her little pink tongue flicked out and licked along
her top lip.

Unfortunately,
Rafe's disobedient phallus had an excellent recollection of what
delicious atrocities that wicked tongue could perpetrate. He had to
clench his arse cheeks as a drop of pre cum oozed from its head,
and he swallowed a groan. He was highly tempted to pull his prick
out of his breeches and let her suck him, but he had already gained
release twice that morning and he was saving what little cum he had
left for someone else.

“Patience, my
dear,” he said with great difficulty. “Why don't you retire to the
conservatory, and I will meet you there later after I have kept my
appointment?”

That seemed to
placate her and with a look of indulgent longing she flounced away,
leaving him to breathe a sigh of relief and carry on his way to the
lake, his disappointed cock hard and throbbing.

Sophie was
standing by the boathouse and when he saw her he stopped in his
tracks, mesmerised for a moment by her ethereal beauty. She was
dressed in white muslin, a dainty little parasol shading her from
the sun and on sensing his presence she turned and gave him a
radiant smile.

“Rafe!” she
cried in her sweet voice, and when he walked up to her she kissed
him on the cheek with such unreserved innocence, he almost felt
guilty.

“How is my
lovely cousin?” he asked.

“Better for
seeing you!”

He just stood
and grinned like a besotted fool, completely forgetting all his
ulterior motives for a moment. Then he remembered and he kissed her
back, first a chaste little kiss on her soft cheek and then he
placed his hand on her tiny waist and gave her another kiss but
this time making sure he was closer to her lips. She smiled, so he
kissed her on her lips, a soft whisper of a kiss that left her
wanting more. They had played this game before and he knew she
liked it. His hand still firmly on her waist he pulled her closer
and tentatively kissed her again, soft butterfly kisses that had
her breathing faster and him, unbeknownst to her, as hard as
steel.

“Sophie,” he
murmured and then he recklessly dipped his tongue into her mouth
and prayed she didn't pull away.

He had been
tentatively seducing his sweet little cousin in this way for months
now, ever since she had come of age, and he was beginning to suffer
a severe case of blue balls. Well, not actually blue balls since he
fucked regularly with a wide selection of partners whenever he
wanted, but it was Sophie he was desperate to have. All he had done
so far was kiss her, and once she had allowed him to palm her
breasts, but that was all and it was driving him to insanity.
Several times he had been on the brink of throwing up her skirts,
dragging her legs apart and forcing himself inside her, but that
was something he must never do. He could hardly take his own cousin
by force! He may be an immoral rake but he wasn't a ravisher of
virgins! He was hoping today that he could at least persuade her to
touch his throbbing cock with her soft little hands. Oh God, that
would be bliss beyond belief! It would make him come so hard he
would probably pass out.

She moaned
deliciously as his tongue thrust more forcefully into her mouth and
his hands circled around her waist. His hips were desperate to
thrust against her skirts but with an immense force of will he held
back and instead ran his hands up her back.

“Touch me
Sophie,” he said into her mouth, and she tentatively placed her
hands on his shoulders. He ran his lips over her jaw and then down
her throat feeling her tremble, then lower to the swell of her
sweet décolletage. Her hands stilled on him as his hands moved to
her front and up to her breasts.

“No Rafe!” she
cried softly, but his hands had found the tight buds of her nipples
through her bodice and his fingertips rubbed over the sensitive
buds.

“Please
Sophie,” he pleaded, his voice rough with excitement. His cock was
so hard now he felt as if he was going to burst the seams of his
breeches. God damn it, he felt as if he was going to burst his own
skin.

“I am in pain,
my darling,” he said, looking into her soft blue eyes. “You must
give me some relief or I may die of longing for you.”

“Oh Rafe,” she
cried, her eyes filling with tears.

He reached down
to his breeches and slowly unbuttoning them, taking care not to
startle her, he pulled out his rigid prick. They both looked down.
He was huge and swollen, a massively inflamed column extending
upwards with an angry purple head, thick cum oozing from the tip
and dripping down the shaft.

Her eyes were
wide and her mouth formed a perfect 'O' as she stared. A tear fell
down her cheek and she shook her head wordlessly.

He looked at
her imploringly but she whispered, “I can't Rafe. I just can't!”
and then she was gone, tripping across the grass, her skirts
fluttering as she fled from him.

He was left
holding his painful erection in his fist feeling like the worst
kind of cad. And the worst part was that he was as hard as ever,
his bollocks tight and aching. A few strokes and he could ease the
pain, but then he remembered Mrs Rawlings waiting for him in the
conservatory. Maybe she could be of use after all.

Within seconds
of bursting into the hothouse he had commanded the buxom widow to
bend over the back of the wrought iron bench, which she did quite
eagerly. She draped herself over the rigid frame, waiting for him
to do whatever he wanted, which of course made his cum churn and
boil in his sac. Sometimes, he just loved a willing screw.

Stroking his
cock, he stalked towards her and roughly pulled her skirts up to
reveal her bare backside, which was just as wide and plump as he
remembered. He took a moment to run his hands over the ample
cheeks, squeezing the flesh and watching it shake and wobble under
his hands. Then he firmly slapped it until red wheals appeared. She
cried out as he whacked her harder, driving her into ecstasies of
wailing, his balls growing tighter at the sound of his hand
slapping against her meaty flesh. Then he thrust his fingers into
the sopping wet folds between her legs, and played with her until
her legs were spread wide apart and she was screaming for more, her
cream running down his hand and wrist.

He tore his
breeches open, released his aching cock from its prison and
gripping her hips, rammed it into her. God, it felt good! She
didn't have the tightest snatch in the world but it was hot and wet
and he went in all the way with ease, right up to the root.

Rafe remembered
well how the widow just loved to be fucked hard. She expected no
finesse from him so he had no need to hold back. He went at her
like a mad man, wildly slamming into her with his full weight
behind it. This was by far his favourite position for a fast and
furious fuck when he just wanted to get his nuts off and the way
she was squealing was really doing the trick. All thoughts of
Sophie flew from his head as he ploughed into her slippery cunt,
his hips banging faster and faster until with a roaring cry his
cock exploded its full load of cum, emptying his balls in one great
consoling surge.

Chapter 4

The Earl Falls Hard

In which our
regency rake is undone.

The Earl of
Langham lounged lazily on the grass, toying with his glass of wine
as the hot sun beat down on his handsome face.

Normally he
found these picnics something of a drag but today he was enjoying
the view up a young lady's skirt. Her aunt, Mrs. Rawlings was doing
her best to get his attention, recounting bawdy gossip in her deep
honey drenched voice, but his eyes were fixed on the ankles of her
niece. He had had his fill of Mrs. Rawlings yesterday, when he had
rammed his cock up her in the conservatory and once each house
party was quiet enough. He did not want her getting any ridiculous
notions, after all.