Chapter 1

Lady Charlotte thought about happier times, the sudden death of her husband leaving her depressed and fearful of her future existence and that of her twin girls Anna and Jenna. It was twenty years almost to the day, married to Lord Henry Philbrook, one of the most successful men in the county. The only man more successful was his partner, Lord Michael Granville. She had married into the aristocracy, her impoverished past swept aside by her beauty. Lord Henry Philbrook was a mild-mannered man, not especially handsome but he succeeded in spite of his submissive manner, his partner Lord Michael Granville more than made up for Henry’s faults. Together they had succeeded where each would have failed alone.

The wedding of Lady Charlotte and Lord Henry Philbrook was a grand affair, the county turned out in record numbers to see the lovely girl that married such an eligible bachelor. That night, Lord Henry Philbrook claimed his prize, the coveted virginity of his bride, her youthful body under his as he took out his pent up lust on his new wife. Lady Charlotte endured his hurried rutting, her insides bathed with his hot sex juice before she felt even a hint of arousal. And their sex life never got better, the only pleasure Lady Charlotte received in life was induced with her own fingers. But she

loved her husband and vowed to honor him and their sacred covenant of marriage.

From the day of their wedding, Lord Michael looked at his partner’s wife with lust in his heart. Lord Michael considered himself quite the ladies man. His wealth and his dominant personality made many a maiden fawn over him, offering up their naked charms to his every perverse whim. He took his lust from them, but none ever entered his heart. Lady Charlotte was different, the first time he saw her, her beauty took his breath away. He could smell her innocence, his rigid member rising up as his mind conjured up ways to get her naked body into his bed. She was only nineteen at the time of the wedding, ten years his junior, but the voluptuous beauty inflamed his unbridled lust. At five feet six, her mane of long auburn hair hung sexily down her back, Lord Michael imagining her naked, her long tresses hiding her bare breasts, a peek of a nipple protruding unashamed from behind the silky hair. She was slim and supple, her thighs round and resilient, her buttocks tightly set and firm. But what enthralled him most to her body were the perfect pear shaped breasts that heaved beneath the tight fitting bodice of her wedding dress, pushed up and exposing a generous amount of naked cleavage to his wandering eyes. The gold cross hung between her cleavage as if beckoning all eyes to feast on her naked flesh. Her skin was alabaster, Lord Michael imagining the dark foliage between her legs highlighted against her pale skin.

Lady Charlotte smiled at Lord Michael, enduring his lustful gazes at her body. Her husband, Lord Henry had already

warned her of him, making sure that she knew of the delicate line the two men straddled, Lord Michael controlling the business, Lord Henry careful not to cross his partner and risk his financial success.

Lord Michael smiled lustily at the beautiful bride, wishing he lived in the days when the Lords had the right to bed the newly married brides before their honeymoon, indoctrinating them into the more perverse forms of sexual gratification as the Lords took their precious virginities. They would be sent home to their husbands, their mouths, their cunts and their anuses all thoroughly penetrated by the Lord’s rock hard erection, taught to service their Master’s prick until he spurted his seed into their orifices. He watched Lady Charlotte’s full lips curl back as she faked the smile for his benefit, his member thickening at the thought of forcing those lovely lips around his member. “My partner has married the most beautiful woman in the land.”

“Thank you Lord Michael. You make me blush with embarrassment.” He was looking at her strangely, his eyes dancing up and down her body as if he could see her naked body beneath the dress.

“May I have this dance?” His arms were already reaching out for her body, the scent of sweet flowers emanating from her body. He didn’t wait for an answer, his hand sliding easily around her slim waist, pulling her body next to him.

He took her before she could even accept, Lady Charlotte accepting his domination with dread and fear. His hand drew her body up against him as he glided with her to the music, amazingly adept at dancing. She felt her body being

maneuvered to the other side of the dance floor, into the darkness. His hand slid lower down over her hips, Lady Charlotte’s slim hand sliding over his, but failing to deter it as it slid back to cup her buttocks unashamedly. “Please Lord Michael,” she begged. “I’m a married woman,” she pleaded without success.

Hearing his name coming from her sweet lips only inflamed his lust for her, his hands gripping her firm buttocks, driving her loins against his throbbing member. As he swept her into the darkness of the far side of the dance floor, his hips began to move, his thick shaft rubbing sensuously against her silky mound. He nuzzled her neck, his lips tasting the sweet fragrance of her perfume as he planted tender wet kisses on her neck. He felt her struggle, interpreting her movements as her lust for him, not her fear, never believing that any girl would fail to succumb to his sexual power. He was ready to rip the clothes from her body, feeling her body surrender to his lust. He didn’t care about his partner, he only coveted his wife.

It shocked her the way he was taking advantage of her, Lord Michael’s hands grasping her buttocks lustily, feeling his thick member pushing against her virginal mound, his panting in her ear as he licked her neck beyond what a married woman should endure from a man that was not her husband. She pulled back from his grip, turning sideways, slapping his face with the flat of her hand. She saw the shocked look on his face before she turned and ran from him, never looking back.

Lord Henry saw his wife approaching, her breathing ragged as if she had been running. “Are you all right my precious wife?”

She tried to calm down, not wanting to damage the fragile relationship he had with his partner. “It is just you my husband. You take my breath away each time I see you.” She smiled shyly and whispered into his ear. “I quiver at the thought of you taking my innocence tonight. I can’t even imagine your proud member entering my maidenhood, making me forever yours.” She reached down and coyly touched his shaft, running her hand along it before she moved her hand away in feigned shock from its large size.

Lord Henry thought he would spend when she touched him, igniting a lust that only her naked body could extinguish. He wished all the guests would leave so he could take his wife to their bed chambers and he could sate his lust upon her. Their moment was broken by the voice of his partner, Lord Michael.

“Your wife is an excellent dancer,” staring at Lady Charlotte as if nothing had happened. He could see her flushed look on her face. Had she been aroused by his advances? Did she slap him only to protect her virtue? He vowed that from this day forward, he would do everything to make this lovely girl his. It was a sin to covet thy neighbor’s wife, but his lust overpowered all common sense. While he might partake of the pleasures of other women to satisfy his lust, he would always be thinking of Lady Charlotte.

“Thank you Lord Michael,” smiling demurely. “Please husband, I am thirsty from all the dancing. Take me to get

something to wet my lips.” She had to get away from Lord Michael, gazing down to see his member pushing out the front of his trousers, blushing as she did.

“Excuse me, my wife needs my attention.” Lord Henry whisked his wife away, glad that he was alone with her.

Lady Charlotte remembered the one time that she dishonored her husband. It occurred a year after they were married, Lady Charlotte settling into the life that he made for her. Lord Henry was not very attentive in bed, taking his lust from Lady Charlotte hastily in spite of all that she tried to do. He never tried to pleasure her, instead he shoved his manhood into her as soon as she spread her lithe legs for him.

He barely entered her before he came inside her, her tight quim grasping his stiff prick as he thrashed himself deep into her hot hole, pulling out once and then shoving deep into her womb.

Lord Henry could never contain his lust with his wife. It seemed that as soon as he entered her, her tight quim would milk the cum from him. His balls contracted and he was ready to dump his semen inside her body. His sphincter tightened as he shot out the cum from his aching cock, bathing her womb with his hot seed.

He rolled off of her leaving her unfulfilled, Lady Charlotte never questioning her husband. He would quickly fall asleep while Lady Charlotte lay in bed, her body aroused but unsatisfied.

Lord Henry decided that he would commission a painting of his lovely wife to adorn the entranceway of their grand

mansion for all to admire. He interviewed many artists, some coming from over fifty miles away. He finally settled on a young Parisian artist named Henri that came highly recommended by some of the other wives, settling on the price and the pose. She would be reclining on a chaise lounge, dressed in regal gown adorned with her jewels. Lord Michael would be traveling with Lord Henry for a week on business, the artist to have it completed by his return.

The servants let Henri into the house, helping him with his artist stand and box of paints. He was led into the sun room, a large room with a wide expanse of windows that shown out to the hidden garden in back of the house, a private sanctuary that Lady Charlotte often went to so she could escape from her reality. She was never disturbed when in this room, the servants, even Lord Henry knew that they would suffer her wrath if they bothered her.

Henri saw her enter, his eyes taking in her beauty. “Good morning Mademoiselle.” While so beautiful, he could see anguish in her eyes. She might look happy, but he could tell her life was unfulfilling. She had a shapely body, her dress clinging to every delightful curve. He would enjoy painting this one, not like some of the older women that had already passed the prime of their life. This woman was just entering womanhood, a glow about her that even her despair couldn’t tarnish.

“Henri,” she nodded. She walked over to the chaise lounge, reclining on it while she waited for Henri to pose her. He set up his easel and took out his paints and brushes. She held her breath as Henri came close to her, the first touch of

his hand on her skin shocked her. It had been a long time since a man had touched her besides her husband. And this was different, his hands never leaving her skin as he maneuvered her body. He touched her everywhere, not ashamed as he touched her breasts, fixing the top of her dress so that her naked bosom was exposed. She felt his hands on her legs, running down over her hips, sliding to grasp her buttock as he turned her sideways. By the time he was finished, she could feel the moisture seeping between her smooth, silky thighs.

Henri talked to her while he painted, his brushstrokes capturing all of her beauty, her face beginning to lighten up as she became comfortable with him. He spoke of her body as he painted, commenting on how full her breasts were, her supple legs, the flushed look on her face as he painted the excitement his voice brought out in her body. A girl that was aroused always made a better subject to paint, his brush able to capture the look of sexuality that was etched in her face. The girls he painted were always surprised by his sexual candor, but they gradually relaxed, for the first time someone saw things in them that even their husbands no longer saw.

By the second day, Henri was almost finished with the painting. He unveiled it to Lady Charlotte, the priceless look on her face almost payment enough for him.

Lady Charlotte looked at the portrait, the expression on her face almost scaring her. She looked so aroused, her body posed to accent every curve in her body, Lady Charlotte looking like she just succumbed to the biggest orgasm in her life. “It’s magnificent. I can’t tell you how pleased my husband will be with it.”

“I am glad you like it Mademoiselle. You are such a sexual creature.” He paused for a moment, gauging how far he could push this lovely girl. “I still have three days left. Would you like a portrait just for you?”

“For Me?” She was confused. She loved the picture in spite of it being for her husband.

“Yes. I see things in you Mademoiselle. I would like to paint another portrait that would be more revealing of your real self.”

“What do you mean?” She began to catch on to what Henri was saying. She had heard some of the other wives talking about boudoir portraits, some of them even saying that they would not even show them to their husbands.

“I would like to capture you in the nude. I noticed that this room is very private. No one has disturbed us for two days. I would like to catch your essence in the nude. Your nipples while they are hard. The pouting lips of your cunt between your supple thighs, the triangle of auburn silky tufts that hide the pink lips of your pussy. Even the dark fissure between the sumptuous and provocative bottom of yours.” Henri spoke boldly of her body, seeing her eyes searching.

No one had ever spoken to her in such a manner before, not even Lord Henry. She was taken back by his boldness, but she also felt the tremors rushing through her loins as she imagined him taking in all of the intimate details of her naked body and transferring them for posterity to the canvas. She would have it to treasure for her latter years when her body was no longer youthful and full. And the thought of openly exposing her body to a stranger thrilled her, sure that it would be in many of her masturbatory fantasies in the future.

Without thinking she answered him. “Yes, but tomorrow. I need time to gather up the courage for such a bold adventure.” She left him to put away his paints, going to her bedroom. She took off her clothes, lying naked on the bed. Her fingers played with the silky tendrils of her bush before slowly sliding down between the dark outer lips of her pussy to find the wet opening to her womanhood. Her fingers entered her, two of them twisting and turning as her other hand found the hard clitoris that pulsated as blood rushed through the swollen bud. It took only minutes before the floodgates burst and she bit her lips as she tried to smother her cries of ecstasy, her orgasm soaking her hands with her juices. That night she slept soundly in her lonesome bed, dreaming of tomorrow with Henri.

She was trembling when Henri entered the brightly lit room, Lady Charlotte clad in only a silky bathrobe that clung to the naked body beneath it. She sat on the couch, nervously waiting until Henri set up his easel and paints.

“Do not be ashamed Mademoiselle. You have a lovely body that men would die to possess. Stand up,” his voice demanding her obedience.

She stood up in front of the young French painter, his eyes devouring her body beneath the thin garment. She kept her hands at her sides, clenched in a fist as she felt Henri undoing the belt at her waist. She felt the cool air of the room blowing across her naked stomach, the silky robe sliding down her arms to fall at her feet. She stood naked before him, her magnificent pear shaped breasts stood out proudly, deep brown areolas surrounded the coral buds of her nipples that vibrated with every breath she took.

“Very lovely titties Lady Charlotte,” Henri now calling her by her first name, now that he was gazing at her body so intimately. He looked lower, her stomach drawn in taut as she stretched her naked body for him. His gaze quickly fell to the abundant patch of silky hair that shielded her pink quim from his eyes. “Turn around so I might see you better.” He was surprised that she acquiesced so quickly, her sleek back tapering down to her waist, the gentle swell of her buttocks, the full bottom cheeks, the deep groove tightly clenched as she tried to hide her most intimate secrets from his eyes. “Such a delicious posterior Lady Charlotte. It was made for spanking. The French enjoy the fine line between pain and pleasure.”