At Your Service, Ma'Am! - Cover

At Your Service, Ma'Am!

Copyright© 2018 by The Heartbreak Kid

Chapter 2

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Another story set in post-World War Two Britain. One man's journey from the Highlands of Scotland to...well, you'll just have to read it to find out!

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Historical   Cheating  

For the remaining time before Sir Walter’s return from the United States, Lady Maude and I found the most difficult part of daily life to be maintaining the appearance of propriety during the day. Starved of what appeared to be real marital affection for so long, Lady Maude Erskine-Taylor now strove to stop herself giving away our clandestine relationship when in the presence of others. I do not know how circumspect she had been with William Fortescue, but cook may have known, or at least suspected, what went on in the house after she had retired for the night. I get the impression that Fortescue himself, valuing his position and status, would have played his part to perfection and been the very soul of discretion. But then I am also certain that he saw his situation as a surrogate lover as merely an opportunity to satisfy his own lustful proclivities. As for myself, I pride myself that I have always taken a lady’s feelings into consideration whenever I have taken her into my bed.

In her own right, and as the wife of the most notable local resident of the little community wherein Wilburly Hall was situated, Lady Maude had various social obligations throughout the parish. Her typical day, therefore, consisted of meeting and greeting the local residents and being a part of the Parish Council, the School Board, as well as sundry other responsibilities where her presence was required, almost as a necessity. After many years of marriage, these obligations sat easily upon her shoulders and I confess that by observing her diligence I learned much that I thought would serve me well in later life; and although I had always admired her grace and beauty, I now came to feel the same way about every aspect of her being.

Inevitably the time passed and the day arrived to drive to Southampton to collect Sir Walter. The night before, Lady Maude and I had made love into the early hours, but we spent equally as much time in quiet conversation and just luxuriating in being together and in each others arms. I believe that she had originally intended to accompany me to Hampshire, but in the end our night-time exertions had exhausted her and I had left her sleeping in my bed. I was also tired, of course, but I still largely retained my wartime practise of sleeping as and when I could, together with having to stay awake for the duration of the sometimes long and arduous flying sorties. Although things are getting back to their pre-war levels, the roads are still relatively free of vehicles and so motoring I find to be a relaxation and a time to gather my thoughts.

The Queen Mary had of course arrived on schedule, and I had only a brief time to wait until I saw Sir Walter together with the porter who was pushing the trolley with his luggage. After further assisting us by loading it into the Bentley, the porter departed after receiving his no-doubt generous gratuity.

“All well on the home front, I trust, Thomas?”

“Yes, Sir Walter, you’ll find everything as you left it, Sir.”

“Good man! And Lady Maude?”

“Yes, Sir; she has been keeping herself busy, as usual, and is no-doubt looking forward to your homecoming. Have you had a profitable time in America, Sir?”

“Indeed, Thomas. Those American chaps take their business dealings very seriously. What was it that former President Coolidge said: “The chief business of the American people is business.” They baled us out when our backs were to the wall during the war, and mark my words, they are going to have a big say in world affairs in the future. Yes, Thomas, you could say that my visit was very profitable, but I’ll tell you more about that later.”

Lady Maude greeted her husband with a peck on the cheek when we arrived back at Wilburly Hall. She also managed to give me a nice little smile when she saw me. It was a good job that I was fit and reasonably well-rested, because it fell to me to remove his luggage upstairs to the bedroom. As I picked up the first two pieces, he said to me:

“When you’ve done that you can take the rest of the day off, Thomas, I don’t think that I’ll be needing you again. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Very well, Sir.”

It was too late in the day to do much else, so I retired to my room, to be greeted with fresh linen on a newly made bed, as Lady Maude had become in the habit of carrying out this action each morning. After hanging up my jacket, I sat down in the easy chair provided and resumed the somewhat aptly named Wodehouse novel, Money in the Bank, that I had been reading during those times that I was not otherwise engaged with my duties.


Time moved on once more and the household had settled back into its routine. The opportunities to make love to Lady Maude had naturally diminished, but it was still possible to enjoy each other at least on one or two occasions each week, although we both missed sharing a bed overnight; except on those occasions that Sir Walter happened to be staying the night in a hotel somewhere and my presence was not required to assist him.

Events, however, were due to take another unexpected turn; the circumstances of which were revealed to me during one of those infrequent occasions when Sir Walter was absent; this time staying in my native Scotland.

“Tommy,” as Lady Maude called me when we were alone for any length of time, “I need to talk to you about something, and perhaps to ask you a big favour.” As we snuggled up together I replied: “Maudie, you know that if it is at all possible, you only have to ask and it shall be so!”

“Thank you! it’s about my daughter that I wish to talk to you about. You’ve met Davina and Freddie on several occasions, and I know that she’s taken a liking to you, as has her mother. Well, she’s been married for just over two years now, and for all that time she’s been trying for a child. She and I are confidantes, Tommy, and from what she has been telling me, her problem is much the same as mine was before I met you. If anything it’s worse, because Freddie Atherton is still a young man and supposedly in the prime of life, but according to Davina he’s a damp squib when it comes to romance and hasn’t got much of a clue between the marital sheets. She’s even consulted her physician, but all he says is that these things sometimes take time and you have to let things run their course. Young Davina has even started to wonder if there’s a medical reason why Freddie is coming up short, but she knows that if she suggested that he see someone about it he’d turn her down flat: male pride and all that! So, we were wondering, Tommy—”

“I think I know where you’re going with this, Maudie, but I’d appreciate it if you’d spell it out for me.” Lady Maude lifted my hand off of her breast and onto her sex.

“Can that wait a little while, Darling, I need a little more loving from you first, if you don’t mind!”

It was the first thing the next morning, as the first rays of light appeared between the gap in the heavy bedroom drapes, that our conversation resumed:

“I want to invite Davina here to stay for a few days. Freddie works in the City and they have a place there where he can sleep, if necessary, so she’s left alone quite frequently. If it can be arranged, I’ll choose a time when Walter is also away, but if that’s not possible it shouldn’t matter, as I will be in his bed while Davina is in yours. I want you to show her what she has been missing Tommy, and I don’t think that she’d be too upset if you didn’t withdraw, if you know what I mean. You know that I think so highly of you my darling, that I’m willing to let you make my girl happy as you are more than capable of doing. Is that something that you think that you can do?” I needed only a little time to consider her proposal: “And there will be no jealousy from either of you afterwards?”

“Well, while I can’t in all honesty guarantee it, Tommy, I’m sure that I know myself and my daughter well enough to sincerely believe it won’t be so. I am also sure, however, that I will feel some envy while she is with you, as she has expressed similar feelings with regard to my situation. There is one more thing Tommy, darling: she has expressly asked me if you will shave her, too!”

It did indeed take a few weeks to arrange, but on the third week after Lady Maude and I first discussed it, a taxi cab containing Mrs Davina Atherton pulled up outside the entrance to Wilburly Hall one Tuesday afternoon. Mrs Atherton resembled her mother in many ways physically, the main difference being that she had inherited her father’s dark hair colouring; hers being a rich, deep, chestnut shade, whereas Sir Walter’s was now thinning and turning to grey. She also had her father’s longer and straighter nose and fuller lips, but these did not detract from the fact that she was still a very beautiful young woman. Her mother greeted her at the door, whereas I chose to discretely absent myself until she was settled in.

The next time I saw her was when we dined that evening. Her eyes quickly met mine when I entered the room, but apart from a somewhat brief greeting, she had very little to say to me; although every now and then she would glance in my direction. As the food was introduced, I first held Lady Maude’s chair for her and then her daughter’s, after which I took my seat opposite Mrs Atherton. There was perhaps a little more casual conversation than was usual, as father and daughter caught up on their lives since their last meeting. Then, after I had returned the dinnerware to the kitchen, I joined the ladies for a short while in the drawing room before we each retired for the night. I was not surprised that despite the temporary absence of Sir Walter no mention was made of the reason for Davina Atherton’s visit, although the lady herself seemed somewhat preoccupied in her thoughts I noted. When at last the consensus was reached that it was time to retire for the night, I tactfully held back while the two ladies ascended to their respective chambers.

After what I considered to be an adequate time, I followed suit. I suppose that it was about thirty minutes after I had arrived at my room, a period mostly spent in selecting my clothes for the next day, that I heard the expected knock upon my bedroom door, but barely loud enough to be heard by me but nobody else. In four steps I was at the door and opening it. In the doorway stood a somewhat nervous looking young woman.

“Miss Davina.” She managed a quick smile, and once again I noted another resemblance to her mother.

“Just Davina will suffice Thomas; after all, by the time that I leave here again I trust that we will no doubt be on much more intimate terms.”

She was wearing a three-quarter-length silken robe, tied by a matching sash at her waist, below which was visible a floor length nightgown, which from the portion of material showing appeared to be made of a much less exotic material. After a few minutes of hesitation, during which time her gaze never left my face, she untied the robe’s belt and allowed the whole garment to slide backwards onto the bed. Though the gown underneath was opaque, it was thin enough to allow me to make out the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts, which appeared no smaller than Lady Maude’s and no less attractive; particularly as one could also clearly see the way that her darker nipples formed quite prominent peaks in the material. Davina also having that lustrous darker hair, it was possible to make out the luxuriant growth on her lower body.

At the same time as observing this, I was engaged in removing my own clothing, throughout which time we both maintained our attention on the others face. As I removed my undershirt, Davina, as her mother had done before her, switched her gaze to my upper torso, which appeared to trigger the act of unconsciously licking her lips briefly. This in turn hastened her actions in disrobing and in one continuous motion she had removed her final obstacle to nudity. Her next act was somewhat surprising to me, as she climbed upon my bed and parted her legs in what could be construed as a wholly unladylike, if not outright vulgar manner. It only took a short while for me to remove the rest of my clothes, save only for my undershorts.

I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, about level with her hips. I was now within easy touching distance of her milk-white body, but I really wanted to talk to her first.

“Your mother told me of your request, Davina, shall we do that first?”

“Yes, please, Thomas!”

“There’s just one thing: how will you explain it to your husband? Your mother’s circumstances were slightly different to yours and he will have to be completely unobservant not to notice the change.” She nodded.

“You must understand Thomas, that despite my husband’s relatively young age of twenty-six—he was at school with my brother, which is how we first met—he is a traditionalist by nature. If you don’t know what that means, Thomas, he will only make love to me in the dark, and even then most of the time he doesn’t even remove his pyjamas! He is the type of man that perchance he was ever curious about either his marital duties or a woman’s body, he would never enquire about it, not even with his wife. Furthermore, I seriously think that he is possibly disinterested in anything of a sexual nature other than as the means of producing another male Atherton to carry on his family line. So, to answer your query, Thomas, while he is by no means unobservant, his behaviour borders rather on indifference. Perhaps now you can understand why I also seek what you have latterly provided my mother. I can honestly say that I have never known her to be so happy and contented with her life and I selfishly want some of that happiness and contentment in my life, too! I would also very much like at least one child in my life that I can love and nurture and if you can provide that as well, you will earn my undying gratitude.”

I won’t repeat the description of either the hair removal process or Davina Atherton’s introduction to oral pleasure here, as it was essentially the same as with Lady Maude, as was the outcome in terms of the lady’s satisfaction.

“Make love to me now, please!” she entreated earnestly, as she recovered from what was possible the first, real sexual climax of her young life.

I am always left in a state of wonderment by how the, to me, simple showing of respect and consideration for the sensibility of her feelings can serve to liberate the most fundamental responses in a woman; and particularly in a married woman. You may say that I am wrong to act in this way with ladies matrimonially enjoined, but I would mitigate my behaviour by stating that anyone that has been actively involved in a war will always come out of it with a different moral perspective to the one that they held when they entered.

In all of human history, I conjecture that what has shaped behaviour, both negative and positive, is the attitudes that are held by one set of people over another. This is true of all aspects of social life, albeit religion, politics, war, and of course, sexual intercourse. And furthermore because by and large the male of the species has nominally held the power in all these aspects, so too have they had the means to control prevailing societal attitudes. In my lifetime I have seen far too many women whose lives have been impoverished, in one way or another, by men, so I see it as both an obligation and a duty to try and change the status quo whenever I can and if at all possible.

Neither Sir Walter Erskine-Taylor nor Freddie Atherton are essentially bad men or bad husbands; they are merely, I feel, hamstrung by their own heritage. And while I cannot necessarily directly improve the marriages of my two lovers, I can perhaps help them to better cope with their lot in life. They are, of course, both ladies born of privilege, but that fact does not automatically guarantee nor exclude them from a life of possible happiness.

After we had made love, Davina lay in my arms sobbing quietly. I had seen this before and I knew that they were not tears of regret, but rather the opposite. Having been freed from the constraints of her hitherto sexual and emotional frustration, her body’s natural mechanism sought an outlet of expression, and what more natural an outlet than tears of joy.

Although I think I knew the answer before I asked the question, as I approached my own release, I asked my newest lover how she wished me to spend my seed. Davina’s response was to use her arms and strong legs to physically prevent my withdrawal. As she felt my manhood’s release and the presence of its product deep within her, she gave a little throaty laugh, then:

“You do realise that this is just the first of many times Thomas. If I leave here still barren, we shall just keep trying until we have made a new life. And even if I do conceive as a result of being here now, my darling man, we shall still carry on just for the sheer enjoyment it gives me. Oh, Tommy, I think you have ruined me for all other men! How long will it take to rouse the sleeping beast again?”

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