Councils of War - Cover

Councils of War

Copyright© 2018 by Uther Pendragon

Chapter 7: Uxoriousness

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 7: Uxoriousness - In the summer of 1819, upper-class families all over England with daughters of the proper age were holding councils of war. Their daughters were going tobe presented to society, officialy to the court, and most critically to the men who would marry that year. Everyone hoped that one of those men would marry the daughter of the house. The Tarletons want a suitable husband for Anne. She wants a particular man, and she wants him to love her.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Slow  

Awake, bathed, dressed anew, Lionel watched the ladies descend for the ball. The ritual was the same as had prevailed during the Season, the situation was quite different. The overwhelming majority of these ladies were married women, most of them long-married. He was one of the most desirable partners, several women turned to him first when several men met them at once. He stepped back when Anne descended, which was the way married men treated their wives but a mistake in this case. She had her card filled by the time she gave him the sixth dance. He found himself mentally repeating the names of his first five partners while he danced with them. Then he had Anne in his arms.

“You were correct,” he said. “This is a distinct pleasure.”

“And I fear that you are concentrating on my pleasure at the expense of yours.” Why should he grow to love her -- she asked herself -- if he were always denying himself to please her? While the pleasure had been intense while it occurred, the long-term goal was more important.

Ma femme, we have changed places. Once, I feared that certain activities would offend you, because you are a lady. Now, you fear that certain activities will not please me, because I am a man. I agreed to ask you whether particular activities offended, and to believe your answer. Will you agree to believe me about which activities please me? Has any man ever told you that this kiss displeases him?”

“I never heard about it, never even imagined it, before this afternoon.”

“Then believe me on this, any action which I take when alone with you pleases me. Now, there are inactions which displease me. I keep dancing in circles when my strongest desire is to pull you to the floor, pull off these silly clothes, and have my way with you.” She blushed, which charmed him. “I shall leave you at the end of this dance to seek Lady Stockbridge. That will not please me. But the actions I shall take when alone with you are actions I expect to please me.”.He whirled them around. “Are you still doubtful?”

“No. I trust you.” She had to trust him. He was reporting on his own feelings. Suddenly, she saw that her own suggestion had moved her into quite strange territory. Her mother’s brief talk had covered only issues that Anne had guessed at, had heard gossip and jokes about. Marriage had launched her into a swift stream, but one she had glimpsed only from the shore. Now, her request to be Lionel’s woman had swept her over an unexpected waterfall. She could not discuss these matters with her mother, with Lenora, or even with Joyce -- not that Joyce was likely to have even as much experience with men as she had had in her first weeks of marriage.

The only one who could guide her was Lionel. And the root question, ‘How can I make Lionel love me?’ was one she could never ask him.

On the other hand, his response to her request made her love him even more deeply. First, the pleasures of marriage to him were greater than she could have imagined. Second, her request that he show her how to please him had resulted in his showing her all the ways he could please her. That showed Lionel’s great generosity.

At dinner, she drew out her companions, who had heard of her for years when she was too young to attend dinners. She spared some attention, though, to where Lionel was sitting across the table and higher up. He seemed to be both entertaining and entertained.


Lionel, indeed, was enjoying himself greatly. He was the new face in a company where most of them had known each other for years. He could never have imagined being at the same table with Dorwich and outshining him. His companions were interested in his reports on Paris and the new, royal government.

His dances afterwards were, by his choice and according to his understanding of propriety, mostly with older matrons. He was in the same square, though not a partner, with Anne for a quadrille. Her smile was dazzling when they met in the dance, and her hand left his a little later than the strict rules of the dance would have specified. He could tell that his partner in that dance noticed from her tolerant smile. Anne wanted to touch him, and the world approved. Her world approved.

“Shall I visit tonight?” He whispered that night, when he parted from her at the door of her dressing room.

“Oh, please.” Anne was so excited by the ball and the afternoon preceding it that she kissed him. They clung together until they heard footsteps in the hall. That was a new idea, she decided when she was in her dressing room and could think. She was married to Lionel, and she could kiss him. She didn’t need to wait for him to kiss her. When Joyce had dressed her in her night gown, she dismissed her before going into the bedroom. She removed her nightgown and draped it over the chair. When Lionel rapped at her door and she had admitted him, she stood behind the door while he entered.


When Lionel saw Anne stand totally naked, he was shocked, not by her state but by his response. The coquettes had usually had him undress them. They had sometimes undressed while he watched. They had taught him, and he had agreed, that the process was even more arousing than the result. That his wife, the recently-innocent Anne, would wait naked for him aroused him to an extent beyond anything he could have imagined, let alone beyond what he had experienced. He set down the candle in anticipation of taking her in his arms, but she followed him to the night stand and kissed him before he was ready.

She held his head with both her hands and pulled it into the kiss. His own hands went to her, and everywhere he stroked was silken skin. When his tongue left her mouth, hers followed it. He sucked it and trailed his fingers up to her breasts. Her nipples were firm before he touched them, and he gloried in that response. When his erection pressed against her belly, she didn’t draw back. Instead, she tightened her hold on his neck. At that, he left her sweet breasts, briefly. He lifted her by her rump, turned and walked the two steps to the bed. He dropped them both across it. This freed his hands to pry her arms from his neck. She hadn’t abandoned the kiss in all this time.

“I suggest,” he said when he’d straightened, “that you get yourself straight and under the sheet.” Then he took off his night shirt. When he was done, Anne was covered by the sheet and looking at him. Her gaze centered on his erection, and her response was far from missish. She held the sheet up while he got in. He avoided her mouth, kissing down her neck and onto her breast.

Anne had had the kiss she had always wanted, and Lionel had seemed pleased with it, too. Now, his desire for her was obvious. Well, if being the only woman for him was her final goal, having him desire her was a good first step. She watched that member in fascination until he covered it with the sheet. Then he was kissing her, even if she couldn’t kiss him. The lips on her left breast were arousing, and his chest hair tickling her right nipple added to that arousal. When his hand stroked down to her mound, she opened her legs to give it better access. Soon, her arousal was a burning within her. She could tell that a pleasure almost as great as the one he had given her this afternoon was almost there. She nearly moaned in frustration when he stopped.

Then he was above her. He thrust into her and filled her. His hands were on her breasts and he was driving in and out. Her arousal, only momentarily stymied, increased. She felt it flare within her. And Lionel was still driving within her release. The glory seemed to go on and on.


“Love,” Lionel said, “oh love, oh love!” She was clasping around his cock. His completion was too near for him to pause. Helplessly, he stroked in and out four or five more times and then exploded. He sagged onto her softness with his elbows taking only a little of his weight. It took him a long time to recover enough to roll off. He lay on his back.

“Come here,” he finally said. He moved her so that her head was on his shoulder and her softness was all along his side. He felt her breath on his chest and her hair spread all across him as he fell asleep.


Anne listened to his heartbeat slow. She had thought that the afternoon had shown her the ultimate in marital pleasure. Then the night, the early morning, really, had surpassed it. She was certain, too, that Lionel had enjoyed the last as well. Indeed, he had called her his love. She was far from naive enough to feel that a declaration at such an instant signified a permanent attachment, but she was well on the way to being her husband’s mistress -- Lionel’s only woman. When she rolled her head a little to kiss his chest, he tightened his arm around her and clasped her rump tighter. Yes, she was his and he wanted her to be his. Satisfied in all ways, she drifted off to sleep.

She woke to Joyce’s knocking. When she called out, Joyce brought in her tea and set it on the night stand.

“Shall I bring Milord’s tea as well?” she asked.

“Please. And do you have a pot and a sugar bowl?” After Joyce went out leaving the door open, Lionel got out of bed in a run to grab his night shirt. She heard some discussion in the hallway between Joyce and, apparently, Samuel before Joyce came back with the requested china. So she had her morning tea in bed beside her husband who was drinking his own. After Joyce had left and closed the door, she sat up straight with the sheet bunched in her lap. Lionel kept looking at her breasts then looking away when she caught him at it. She thought of several comments to embarrass him, but this wasn’t James whom she enjoyed embarrassing. This was Lionel, whom she was in the process of seducing. That game paid much better rewards than the other.

It wasn’t going to pay those rewards this morning, though. When Lionel finished his first cup of tea, he got out of bed. He did kiss her before slipping out. Since the teacup was still in her hand, she couldn’t hold him during the kiss. She had her second cup, donned her night gown, and rang for Joyce. Lionel was already at breakfast, served in the dining room because of the company, when she got there. Well, if she couldn’t sit beside her husband at dinners, she could at breakfast. She brushed against him when she set her plate down and again when the footman seated her.


Lionel was acutely conscious of those touches and of the arousal they brought. He was almost as conscious of the inappropriateness of such touches, not to speak of such an arousal. He glanced around the table hoping that others hadn’t noticed. Lord Stroud was giving his attention to a kipper. Lady Stroud, who certainly had noticed, was looking remarkably like she did when little Aphra cried with glee. It was an adult tolerantly enjoying the inappropriate pleasure of a child. Dorwich, almost directly across the table, gave him a look of something approaching approval.

Lionel knew that Stroud was a power in the ton, indeed in the land. He was, however, regarded by Lionel’s set as an old man whom their parents respected. Dorwich -- he couldn’t get used to thinking of him as James -- still had a reputation among the young bachelors for his pranks at Cambridge, his travels, his serf. He was a leader of the set of young marrieds who kept up participation in the London season. Lionel valued his approbation far more than his father’s.


James regarded Anne as his favorite sister. Considering his opinion of Deborah, that was small praise. In fact, he liked Anne. She was enough younger that she’d been an annoyance when she’d been four, he fourteen, and Charles twelve. He’d dealt with the annoyance by lifting her into the fork of a tree and running off with Charles before anyone came to lift her down. Since Anne hadn’t tattled, this past only increased his fondness for her. They were as sharp-tongued towards each other as any other two Tarletons, but he didn’t mean anything hostile by it. James hadn’t thought Lionel worthy of his sister, but he had obviously been her choice. The evidence that she was feeling sexually satisfied by the man raised his respect towards him. Lionel was a Tarleton now, and James would be happy to give him his support. If Anne proved unhappy with Lionel, of course, James would readily see him roast in hell.

The guests began leaving after breakfast. A real exodus began after luncheon, which was early to accommodate that need. Anne and Lionel stood as one couple among the three seeing them off. Lionel confined himself to generalities and let Anne speak the particulars. In fact, she hadn’t all that much experience being hostess for most of the couples. Before her debut, she had mixed little with her parents’ company. The girls of the local gentry had been her social set. All seven were outside to see the last coach go.

“At last” said Charles. “I liked them all, but I like their backs most.” The Tarletons all laughed. Lionel didn’t feel entitled. Would Charles say the same of him?

“At last, indeed,” said Anne. “Would you like a little ride, Lionel? I feel the need to be outside after that.”

“That sounds good,” said Charles. “I’ll come along.”

“You’re asking for an adder in your bed if you do,” said James. “The lady didn’t invite you. If you really feel the need for a ride, I suggest that you follow them to the main road. If they turn west, then you turn east.” Lionel blushed, but he noticed that Charles did, too.

“They taught you a deal of Latin at Winchester, didn’t they?” Stroud asked.

“Well, yes,” Charles said.

“They had done better to teach less Latin and more discretion. We’ll expect you back before full dark.”

After they’d changed, Anne asked -- asked with a “please” and a “thank you” when they got them -- the head groom to have somebody saddle two lively horses for the two of them. The result was a fine pair of steeds. If the one with a side saddle seemed a little finer, the grooms were her people. Lionel lifted her into the saddle

Lionel followed Anne out into the main road. Then, when she gave her horse its head, he trailed by enough distance that he could avoid riding over her if she should fall off. Forty minutes or so on, she raised her arm and then slowed her horse. She turned off the road onto a faint trail through the forest. She stopped her horse so he could come alongside.

“That was pleasant,” she said. “Would you like to walk for a while?” When he dismounted and came over to her, she slid off the saddle into his arms. He took a kiss, and she cooperated. “Let’s tie the horses,” she said. When they did, she led him into the woods until they could barely see the horses.

She so clearly wanted another kiss when she turned to him, that he gave it to her. His tongue explored her mouth, and his hand explored her back. When he grasped her rump, she slid her arms around his waist and pulled him close. Trying to hide his erection from her seemed as ridiculous as it was impossible. Even when she broke the kiss by turning her head, she kept them close.

“I can remember working ever so hard to master the mounting block and sliding out of the saddle so that I didn’t need anyone’s help in mounting and dismounting,” she said. “It seems so silly now. I’m going to need your help mounting again, and I’m going to enjoy it much more than I ever enjoyed my independence. Will you enjoy it, as well?”

“Very much. I might enjoy catching you against me even more, at least when no one can see.”

“Well, no one can see now, and we don’t need to be bothering the horses to hold each other, do we?”

“Anne,” he said. “You are a constant surprise.”

“Do you like to be surprised?”

“This way? Indubitably. You keep surprising me with new delights.”

“You surprise me, too.” Anne felt shy. Anne, who never felt shy, Anne who had spied on her brothers and their friends swimming naked and on the horses being bred, buried her face in Lionel’s coat so he couldn’t see her. Her voice was very small when she said, “You surprised me last night.”

Lionel felt his cock throb when he heard those words. He pulled a little away from Anne and turned her so that her rump was against only one leg. This way, he couldn’t see her face and she couldn’t feel his erection. “Well,” he said, “I hope it was a pleasant surprise.”

“Very pleasant,” she said. “My mother told me that most women come to enjoy the experience. If I had only the feelings which come when we go to sleep with you holding me or with my head on your shoulder, I would have regarded myself as one of the women who had come to enjoy it. Instead, you provide such ecstasy...”

“Sweet.” Lionel bent to kiss her ear and then her neck. He cupped her breasts through her riding habit. Soon, he had his hands inside the jacket. He was pulling her back against his erection again and tweaking her nipples with his thumbs.

“Husband,” Anne said, “I’ve sworn that I shall never refuse you.” Her voice sounded tense.

Lionel laughed. “But you feel this is an inopportune moment. Don’t worry, dearest Anne. I wasn’t planning to go further. You asked once what I enjoy particularly. Well, I enjoy it when you are as eager for it as I am. You feel this?” He rubbed his cock against her back. “True, that expresses my desire for you. I come erect, however, when I dance with you. That doesn’t mean that you should be an obedient wife and lie down on the dance floor and spread your legs for me. When the situation is appropriate, we can use this. When it isn’t appropriate, I try to hide it. I wasn’t planning on completing the act, but I do enjoy the preliminaries even when the completion needs to be delayed. Don’t you?”

“The preliminaries? Isn’t kissing a preliminary?”

“In many cases. Sometimes, it is merely a pleasantry in itself.”

“Do you truly enjoy it alone?” Anne moved away from him, and he reluctantly let her go. This wasn’t a discussion to be conducted with them apart, but she clearly wanted that.

“Not alone,” Lionel said. “Kissing cannot be done alone. I do enjoy kissing you when we aren’t going to do anything more. Do you not?”

“Oh, but I do.” She turned and faced him. “I didn’t think you enjoyed it when you stop so soon.”

“Well, dearest. We have no witnesses to interrupt us and no bed on which to take it further. Why don’t you come to my arms? We shall kiss as long as you like.”

“Oh, Lionel.” She came to him, turned her face up and pulled him into the kiss. This time, her tongue invaded his mouth. After a suitable time licking it, he began sucking. He discovered that she was breathing through her nose while he could not. He broke the kiss in order to breathe but continued to spread small kisses over her face and ear. Anne responded by kissing his neck.

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