Lady Constance's Lover

Constance gazed open-eyed into the lustful face of the gardener. "Marcus... I... I cannot... I cannot say such things!" she blurted. "Do not make me, I beg of you!"

"Say them, Constance," panted Sarah, moving their combined hands more quickly now upon Marcus' shaft. "Surrender to it, and you will find that surrender is its own reward. Trust me as a friend in this. Say it."

Tears welled at the corner of Constance's eyes. She swayed again on her heels. "It... it is true," she sobbed. She noted that Sarah was right - saying the words did indeed feel like the lifting of a burden of some kind. She felt relief, and shame at the same time. Her face coloured crimson and her eyes looked down, unable to meet Marcus' searching, penetrating stare. "What will you do to me?" she asked in a small voice.

Her answer was his hand, beginning at her waist, at the bottom of her corset, snaking downwards, feeling underneath the bottom of her bodice for the gap where her skirts were fastened, slipping under the waist of her skirts, suddenly touching bare skin, the secret tangle of her tight brown curls, the rough, calloused fingers sliding down to rest gently, but firmly, against the forbidden lips of her sex.

"Aaaaauuugh!" Constance wailed in anguish and embarrassment. Her embarrassment was multiplied a thousandfold by the wet, sticky mess that met Marcus' roving fingers. Her lower lips were soaked, her own dewy moisture oozing from them, wetting her silk bloomers and petticoat, which clung wetly to them, parting to admit his hand. As he touched her, and the pleasurable sensations flooded through her overwrought body, it became too much for the poor Duchess. She writhed on the spot, overcome by her desire and arousal.

"Oh Lord Jesus help me," she gasped, her gaze darting madly around, to Marcus, to Sarah and back again. She became almost frenzied. "I cannot...! I must not...! I... I will not say it! Oh but I must! I must! Oh, Marcus... it is true! It is all true! You have undone me! I am... wet for you! I am in need... in need... need of..." she burst into tears.

He slid his fingers through her curls, petting her before letting his thick calloused finger slide along her slit, finding her shamefully drenched and smiling.

"Fffuck", he hissed, tightening his other hand into her hair to turn her face to look at him. "You are soaking wet ... such a shameless slut, aren't you? You need this Lady Constance. This is what made your pussy such a fucking mess. A fat throbbing veiny cock." Without warning he suddenly plunged a fat finger that have been tracing her dripping lips knuckles deep into her pussy, making a gasping sound as her tight wet core clenched tight around the lewd invasion.

The disgusting words felt almost like physical blows to the pampered noblewoman, but the sensations caused by his calloused finger suddenly parting her sex and sliding within her were altogether of a different kind. Constance could not resist her body's reaction, which was one of acute pleasure, one that made her body stiffen and her mouth open in a wide 'O' of surprise as a cry of "ohhhh!" was torn from her. More tears followed this shameless display. He was right, she thought, she was disgustingly wet, as surely only the most wanton whore would be under such circumstances.

"Sooo fucking tight ... like a virgin. You want to get pumped and stretched open like this don't you Lady Constance, just with something larger, fatter?"

As he continued to assault her with more of his vile language, Lady Constance felt her slippery inner channel desperately try to clasp and grip this dirty invader into her most secret feminine place and her cheeks burned with shame at what he must think of her. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be speared instead on that huge, dripping cock. It seemed so big - could it possibly fit within her? Lady Constance could scarcely imagine it, and yet... did she want it?

"I... I don't know!" she cried in anguish. "Yes... yes, I... ahhhhh! What?"

This latter exclamation came as he suddenly withdrew the digit from her, now glistening with the evidence of her own arousal, and released her. Her legs felt weak, and she sank to her knees in her long velvet skirt on the grass, gasping and panting with need. She wanted it back, wanted it touching her once more, but could not bring herself to debase herself further by saying it. Now he was moving instead to Lady Sarah, offering her the slimy digit, grabbing her by her tightly-pinned dark hair and forcing the finger into her mouth. Constance was shocked to see how eagerly Sarah opened her mouth and accepted the finger within, and as her thin, aristocratic lips closed around it, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked greedily on it. Constance realised in a daze that Sarah was now tasting her own secretions, and her arms folded around herself as she let out a moan of dismay at that thought. Both titled ladies were now on their knees before the gardener.

Lady Constance had a further shock as Marcus pulled the now cleaned finger from Sarah's mouth, and dragged her face towards him, his cock now brushing her cheek, marring its perfection with a long trail of slime as though a snail had crawled across it. He manoeuvred her head like a tool as he finally managed to make her mouth - obediently, eagerly open wide - line up with his thrusting cock and pushed it straight into that soft, enveloping orifice.

"Show her what a wicked lady you are Sarah," Marcus said. "Show Constance how a lady whore pleasures her lover ... show her how you like to use your mouth like a whore for my pleasure."

"Oh, poor Sarah..." Lady Constance wailed, in sympathy with the terrible outrage that was being inflicted upon her sister in law. But Sarah did not appear to be outraged. Her dark eyes were sparkling and focused only on the fleshy bar in front of her. With a swift motion the Countess darted her head forward, taking more of the cock into her mouth, and reached up with her dainty hands to grasp at its root, softly stroking and fondling the hairy sack dangling there. Her mouth sucked and slobbered greedily on the cock, moving backwards and forwards, letting it withdraw almost to the tip, and letting her pink tongue dart around the swollen purple head, licking and lapping at the base of it, swallowing more of the oozing fluid that trickled from it, and then launching herself back down its length, one, twice, sucking it deeper at each thrust, until on the third stroke she had swallowed it whole, her nose buried in Marcus' pubic hair, her lips mashed around the hairy base of his cock, the hot, fleshy rod buried deep in her throat, her nostrils flared like a racehorse as she struggled to take in air.

Once Marcus grabbed her hair again, dragging her closer, Lady Constance found herself forced to watch this wanton, lascivious display, though in truth she could probably not have torn her gaze away from it. Constance regarded the terrible act with a mixture of horror, arousal and fear. At first she had not understood what was happening. Surely a man's member was not designed to fit in a woman's mouth? That was perverse, contrary to nature! But now she understood that not only was it able to, but that both Marcus and Lady Sarah appeared to be deriving pleasure from the act. Sarah had clearly done this many times before, and Constance was reminded of the comment she had made earlier at tea - that under his tutelage she had performed acts that "even the vilest streetwalker of Whitechapel" would not dream to undertake. Constance gasped as she saw Sarah's throat expand with the thing within it - she could actually see where its tip had reached by the obscene bulge in Lady Sarah's snow-white neck! She began to pale - surely Marcus would not expect *her* to perform such a disgusting act upon him!

"If you want this cock for your tight needy pussy then show me what a naughty lady you can be," Marcus commanded Constance. "Show me the pussy you want me to pleasure. Show it to me!"

Lady Constance's eyes flicked to Marcus again, widening in surprise. He wanted her to disrobe for him, to show him her most shameful parts? Yet he had told her that only if she did so would she feel him within her once more. Constance trembled with fear and desire. She knew that she wanted him, wanted him within her, wanted him to give her those pleasurable sensations that she had felt before, yet she feared how brutal he might be with her, feared that huge rod within her. She knew that it would fit, of course... it had passed a baby before now, after all, but the pain of that passage was indelibly etched upon Constance's memory. And yet, as Constance watched Lady Sarah's whorish display of cock sucking, she found herself obeying his vile command, dropping her trembling fingers to the hem of her skirts, and slowly drawing them up her legs, revealing her long, slim calves and thighs, encased in her long white silken stockings, and then the long white silk knickers that covered her shame, now with a most obvious damp stain at their crotch. With shaking hands she untied the ribbon that kept the knickers tight at her waist, and pushed them down her thighs to rest at her knees. An expanse of creamy white skin came into view above the broad tops of her stockings, and at the join of her legs, where a little patch of brown hair glistened with her wetness, could just be glimpsed the drooling, puffy pink lips of her labia. The Duchess swooned. Her shame was now complete!

"Oh Sarah," Constance cried, dazed, "what have I become?" But her friend's only answer was a terrible 'shlk-shlk-shlk' sound as she sucked on Marcus' cock.

"Just like that, Sarah," Marcus groaned.

Lady Sarah blinked back involuntary tears as she tried to keep her own gaze on Marcus, as she knew he enjoyed - deep throating his cock always brought tears to her eyes as she gagged on the thick meat in her throat. She heard his compliment and felt gratified that he was enjoying her depraved fellating - her technique the culmination of many long hours of practice and guidance from her masterful gardener. As she held the deepest position, her lips mashed once more against his balls and scratchy pubic hair, her body convulsed as it tried to expel the invader blocking her windpipe, her gag reflex driving more saliva out of her mouth and even nose, bubbling and blubbering around the base of his fat cock. His hot shaft pulsed in her throat - the most incredible sensation Sarah had experienced in spite of its discomfort.

"Look at Lady Sarah", he hissed to Constance. "See how beautiful, how wanton she is? Fffuckkk ... it feels so wicked good!" Marcus licked his lips as inch after inch of creamy skin was exposed while he fucked Sarah's mouth, moaning as he did so. Lady Sarah was a wicked sight to see; her lips swollen from the face fucking, drool and pre-cum smearing her skin and dress liberally like a wanton whore, and the hunger in her eyes showing how much the wicked lady of the house was loving the chance to corrupt her proper friend.

Sarah dimly registered that he was talking to Constance again. Poor Constance! Sarah once again felt a twinge of guilt at submitting her sister in law to such a sight, and yet she also knew that her perverse side, the side that Marcus had encouraged ever since he first discovered it, was looking forward to seeing Constance's deflowering at the hands of her own brutish lover.

Sarah's lungs screamed for air as she continued to bury her face into Marcus' groin. She could feel herself growing faint, a roaring in her ears, until her head was dragged bodily by her dishevelled hair back off his cock, her face red, her eyes glazed, her mouth open and drooling saliva, scarcely recognisable as the prim, aristocratic Lady she had been just a quarter of an hour ago. Marcus' cock popped free from her mouth, glistening from her sucking and the tip frothy with a mix of pre-cum and saliva.

"Look at Constance, Sarah," Marcus said. "Look at those puffy lips of her pussy, drooling like a shameless bitch. Look at how fucking wet she is".

Sarah looked, her body heaving as she sucked in air, coughing and spluttering. Yes, Constance was indeed in a state of extreme arousal, her little white hands twisted her delicate fingers this way and that in her state of flustered agitation. Sarah began to gain control over herself after her vigorous face fucking and managed to smile at the sight.

"Oh my poor Constance," Lady Sarah said in mock sorrow. "You need it so badly now, do you not?"

"I do!" sobbed Constance. "God forgive me, but I do!"

Lady Constance knelt there, trembling, as Marcus advanced on her, taking her long brown curls once more, and turning her face to stare at his eyes. She could see the dreadful lust written in his gaze and felt completely naked before it. As she stared up, mesmerised, she suddenly felt something wet upon her cheek, and looked to see with shock that his long, slimy member had slapped against her cheek, leaving a trail as it slowly moved across her face, smearing Sarah's saliva and more of the oozing lubrication from its tip across her lips.

"Lady Sarah had never seen a cock before she saw mine, and now she sucks my cock better than any whore I ever had," Marcus declared.

Constance whimpered at the unspoken implication - that she would be taught to do likewise. Experimentally she let her little pink tongue dart out and lick at the slime on her lips, tasting little but a faint saltiness and a slightly fishy smell, like oysters. It was not as bad as she had imagined. Perhaps... she could learn to accept it, even love it, as Sarah apparently did.

"Did you like the way Constance tasted, Sarah?" Marcus asked. "Did you like her pussy? Touch her Sarah, feel how tight and needy she feels, taste her more."

Still fully clothed, Lady Sarah crawled across the grass to her friend. Her long hair fell down around her face in places where Marcus' rough handling of it had dislodged the pins that kept it in its formerly tight position, her cheeks streaked with tears, her mouth, chin, neck and cleavage glistening with drool that soaked the top of the bodice of her yellow dress. She looked a fabulously wanton sight.

"I shall," she said eagerly, reaching out for Constance's cringing form. She brought her fingers up to the apex of the Duchess' thighs and stroked the puffy, drooling lips oh so gently, letting more moisture bubble from them. Constance wailed with the illicit pleasure of it as her sister in law's feminine fingers found the secret nub that was the found of her ecstatic sensation, and Constance's thighs closed involuntarily around the probing fingers, trying to trap them there, rubbing that part of her forever. But Sarah managed to withdraw her hand and, once she saw that Constance was watching her, she lifted the sticky coated fingers to her own mouth once more.

"Oh Sarah, do not!" Constance begged. "Do not taste my shameful emissions! I cannot bear it!"

But Sarah merely stared, and smiled. She was imagining what it would be like to bury her mouth between her friend's thighs, and perhaps vice versa?

"Tell me, Sarah, how should I give her the first taste of a real cock? Should I make her lie on the grass or should I take her just like I did you in the morning, should I mount her like a bitch in heat? I will need to see everything before that though ... a woman should present herself properly to her lover don't you think?"

"Indeed, my lord," Sarah agreed. "Constance, please allow me to assist you."

She crawled around behind her friend, and began the laborious process of unlacing first the bodice, then the corset that Constance wore beneath it. The skirts she untied and pulled down her friends legs, leaving her clad only in her white stockings and red slippers. As she did so the gardener simply stood there, taking a step back to properly view Constance as Sarah removed her garments one after another. As every inch of creamy skin was revealed, Marcus could feel the pounding of his heart intensifying, as did his hunger. It wasn't just watching the beautiful woman being revealed, and he was sure it was the first time for her in front of a man's gaze, it was also the wickedness of Sarah stripping her sister in law.

Constance for her part was relieved that it was at least a woman's hands undressing her. But as each garment fell away she felt more and more exposed before that lustful gaze. Soon she was shivering, and not with the coolness of the air, for it was a pleasant enough summer's afternoon. Finally, her breasts were bared before him, and he was able to gaze upon a creamy white expanse of flawless female skin from face to thighs, kneeling in supplication before him.

"And as to your question, my love," Lady Sarah finally replied as she neatly folded Constance's clothes and placed them on a convenient bench. "You must surely take her as you took me this morning, on her hands and knees, like the gasping, drooling bitch in heat that she is."

"Sarah!" Constance shouted, shocked. And yet... she did want that. Did want to be taken like an animal, bent over and ravaged on the lawn. She looked back at Marcus with uncertain anticipation. Marcus looked back, and laughed as he recalled Sarah's words.

"Heh! A gasping, drooling bitch in heat. You have a way with words don't you My Lady? But it's true. Every inch of her was made for fucking. For my pleasure. But for now... show her, help her take the right pose Sarah. Help Constance get on all fours, spread her legs and hike up her ass and offer her pussy like the bitch in heat she really is".

Constance continued to shake with emotion at the disgusting stream of language that Marcus was directing at her, and the anticipation of being taken like an animal. Sarah crawled across to her and took Constance gently by the shoulders.

"Face down, my dear," she whispered, pushing her forwards.

Lady Constance put her hands out in front of her to steady herself as she bent forwards, her nose descending towards the newly mown grass.

"Sarah...," she gasped. "What will it be... like?"

"The greatest pleasure that life has ever yet afforded you, Constance," the Countess replied. "Depend upon it. And now, if you would, please turn yourself away from that wonderful member - you will feel it soon enough, I am sure."

Constance crawled so that she was facing away from Marcus, on her hands and knees on the grass, now wearing only her white stockings and ribboned garters.

"Bottom up," Sarah said, "and move your knees further apart. Let him see every inch of your womanhood."

Constance was dimly aware that she was presenting the most wanton display, like a mare waiting to be serviced by a stallion. She whimpered as Sarah coaxed her gently into the required position, but made no protest, accepting her friend's lead as meekly as a lamb to the slaughter. Sarah regarded the pristine white posterior before her with admiration. She looked at the lips of her friend's sex, now puffy and swollen with desire, coated with dew, indeed, as she watched, a long strand of drooling moisture descended from them and Sarah daringly moved her head forward so that she could catch it on her tongue, her hair brushing Constance's bottom. Marcus' hand joined her, and ran down the cleft of Constance's buttocks to slip across her slick folds once more, causing more mewling sounds of pleasure from Lady Constance. The sounds became a groan of anticipation as she felt Marcus' strong hands grasp her bottom cheeks, and she knew that the moment was near. But Marcus, it seemed, had eyes for another orifice as he settled on his knees behind the Duchess, his cock butting against the woman's slippery lips. Constance held her breath. This was it - she was about to be penetrated by a man other than her husband - giving herself to him willingly, committing the sin of adultery purely for her own pleasure. She tensed, but in spite of all of her upbringing and misgivings, she would not have stopped Marcus even if she could.