I'll Be Your Wife for the Night #01

The talk of anyone who had seen his displays of flowers, perhaps with him a bit bias, they were the most beautiful gardens he had ever seen. Blue Byrne Manor was famous for its exceptional gardens and many a lord in the area had tried to steal his gardener away from him, which unbeknownst to them was his wife. Now that Elizabeth was gone, his head gardener, Peter Wainwright, was well compensated for his green thumbs and to maintain the legacy of his wife. Because Lord Dudley was as clever as he was handsome, he knew how to keep his workers happy and loyal.

### SusanJillParker 07 - ...And then there was Susan ###

Lord Dudley has his eye on Susan, a busty redhead, a pretty, widow who sexually aroused him whenever he saw her.

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As he walked along his gardens, the aroma of lavender, hyacinths, and fresh herbs filled him with peace and his senses with calm relaxation, and that made him take the time to think about her. He sat beneath a fruit tree that he planted for her and on the ornate bench that he had made for her and that was located next to a beautiful fountain, another one of his loving gifts to her. Before she became ill, whenever it wasn't damp and/or raining, Elizabeth would sit here to read.

Open to her presence, if there was one place she'd haunt, this would be the place. He allowed the beauty that surrounded him, along with her spirit, to enter his heart and soul. Lulling him to close his eyes and rest, whenever he sat on the bench, the trickling water of the fountain was soothing to his broken spirit. Never abandoning her in death even in death, believing that she haunted this sacred land, he could never sell this place. Besides, having lived here all his life, with this his home, there was nowhere else he'd want to live but here.

While strolling along and enjoying the garden, Lord Dudley thought back to earlier this morning when Sarah brought him breakfast. Being alone in his bedroom with Sarah made him think about being alone with the Head Cook, Susan, in his bedroom. He'd like to be alone with her but, an integral part of the household, she was always surrounded but other members of the staff and he could never even talk to her alone never mind see her alone. A good addition to his household staff, she had grown to become a wonderful a cook and an even better baker. Besides, wrong to even entertain the thought, he could never begin such a forbidden, sexual relationship with one of his household staff.

Unembarrassed and unashamed, he couldn't help himself from thinking of Susan's big breasts. She had the biggest and the shapeliest breasts in his household. Every time she entered a cold room without the warmth of her shawl covering her breasts, as if they beckoned the touch of his fingers and lips, he enjoyed seeing the impressions her big nipples made through her clothes. Instead of continuing to think of her sexually, he reminded himself of the good, kind, widowed woman that she was. From there, he thought about the long road she had traveled to achieve her important position within his household and as a trusted member of his staff.

Susan's husband, a farmer, died five-years ago when she was 40-years-old. He left her and her young daughter, Emily, to fend for themselves. They had little money, were down on supplies, and wouldn't survive another long, cold, hard winter. Glad that she had, his housekeeper, Mary, brought their dilemma to Lord Dudley's attention. Had it not been for Mary, Susan may never have been in his life.

Having seen her from a distance years before when working the fields bedside her husband, he remembered her as a redheaded, pretty woman with large breasts. Being that he had always been enamored with redheads, especially those who had big breasts and freckles, she was his dream woman. There was something about freckles that he found so sexy. As far as he was concerned, Irish women the most beautiful women in the world. Even though many Irish women had red hair, blue eyes, and freckles not all of them were as pretty and as busty as was Susan.

'God, I love Irish women. I love their accent. I love their red hair. I love their freckles,' he thought. 'I love their spirit and in them not taking guff from any man. Wow! Look at her. Just look at her,' he thought the first time seeing her. 'Look at all that red hair. Look at her big tits. Damn, she's a fine-looking woman.'

One day, when feeling particularly randy, as his excuse, he decided to ride his horse over to Susan's farm to see her situation first hand. Having not seen her in years, and never having seen her up close, for all that he knew she may have grown fat, toothless, and ugly. For all he knew, she may already be dead or abandoned her farm to live in the village. For all he knew, even if she looked the same, she may not be romantically interested in him in the way that he was romantically interested in her. Yet, their union, a Lord and a commoner was forbidden.

He remembered his first glimpse of Susan as if it were yesterday, instead of it being years ago. For him to remember her, her good looks and her sexy, shapely figure, she had made a very strong impression on him. Even though his wife was in good health then, as long as he didn't touch and disrespect his wife by having an extramarital affair, there was no harm in just looking. Nonetheless, he wished his wife had red hair and had been as busty as Susan. Unfortunately, even though she was very tall, Elizabeth had too small of a frame to carry such large breasts. Had she had more meat on her bones, perhaps she would have survived her illness and still be alive today.

Even though Susan was very pretty with her red hair, big blue eyes, and freckles, other than her enormous breasts, there was something about her that made him sexually attracted to her and filled him with wanton, sexual desire her. With her a respectable widow and a member of his household staff, he'd never act upon his sexual lust for his cook. Yet, something he always fantasized doing while masturbating over thoughts of Susan, he'd love to come up behind her when she was standing in front the sink. He imagined pressing himself against her while reaching around her to cup her enormous breasts in his hands.

'If only I could, I would,' he thought. 'I'd love to hump her from behind while feeling her big tits and fondling her erect nipples.'

As if they were constantly chaperoned, he never had the pleasure of seeing her alone. There was always someone else there that made him unable to say all that he wanted to say to her in private. Even if he found himself alone with her, with him imagining himself tongue-tied, what would he say? With good Head Cooks hard to find, just as were good Head Housekeepers, he couldn't imagine his house without her should he make her feel uncomfortable with his unwanted sexual advances. With him still sequestering himself in his bedroom, no longer seeing her every day, he'd be devastated if she ever left his employ nonetheless.

No doubt, should he ever find himself alone with her, he'd spend his time staring at the impressions her big breasts made in her clothes. No doubt, should he ever find himself alone with her, he'd spend his time trying to discern the impressions her nipples made through her clothes. No doubt, should he ever find himself alone with her, he'd spend his time imagining what she looked like topless and/or naked. He loved to see her topless and on her knees with his cock buried in her beautiful mouth while she stared up at him with her big, blue eyes.

With him a respectable widower and her a respectable widow, whenever he had the need to sexually satisfy himself with his hand, he thought of Susan standing before him topless. He thought of kissing her, French kissing her, while touching and feeling her big breasts through her clothes. He thought of undressing her and stripping her naked. He thought of touching, feeling, fondling, and sucking her big tits. He thought of her stroking his big prick before sucking his big prick after fucking his big prick. As much as he thought about making love to her, he thought about fucking her, really pounding her pussy hard and fast.

Whenever she was outside tending to her vegetable garden, he'd steal furtive peeks of her from a second story window. With her round buttocks suspended in the air as if teasing him and unmindful of him watching her, he enjoyed looking at her while she bent at the waist. He enjoyed watching her when she was more focused on her digging than on the disarray of her clothes and on her modesty of what she was unintentionally and accidentally showing him of her sexy body.

Sometimes, especially when she leaned forward at the waist while facing him, she'd reward his patient surveillance of her with a down-blouse view of her long line of sexy cleavage along with the tops of her meaty breasts. Sometimes, when he saw her from the first-floor window squatting down planting without anyone else seeing him watching, she'd give him an up-skirt peek of her red, bushy pussy. Whatever he saw of her that day, he'd take to bed with him that night.

'God, she has such big tits. I wish I could feel her big breasts and suck erect her nipples,' he thought while stroking himself. 'I can't believe I saw her red, naked pussy. I wish I could fuck her cunt,' he thought while stroking his cock faster. 'I wish I could make love to her in the way that I used to make love to Elizabeth.'

To be continued...

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