It was a cold night at the beginning of spring. Winter still had its teeth rooted deep in the ground as a low fog spread over the hilly countryside. A lone buck came upon the road, sniffing it hesitantly. It smelled of people. Sudden vibrations in the earth frightened him and the buck swiftly jumped into the bushes.

The four horse drawn carriage sped across the old dirt road. Agostino, the coachman, sat atop it on his bench and nudged the horses to ever greater speed. At fifty-six years, he commanded formidable strength.

He had worked for the de Calbo family most of his life. First as a stable boy, then as a coachman ferrying the nobles and their guests between the capital city Zakran and their ancestral manor at Calbo Hill. He knew their moods, intrigues and secrets very well. He even was the secret of some of them. He smiled. When the young lady ordered him to ride for the manor in the middle of the night he knew that this night would be one of secrecy.

The lady with all her twenty-two years of anger shouted something in the closed carriage. Talking to herself, he thought, she is pretty angry tonight. For a moment he allowed himself to reminisce about her image. With her slender form, firm, strong thighs and ass, and the small, perky breasts she hid away so easily, her clean, pink face when she came back from riding her horse and her small nose, she was the spitting image of her mother at that age.

Sometimes he watched her, riding the horses through the vast grounds of the manor, her strong thighs gripping the horse’s back.

He focused once more on the road. There will be plenty of time to think about the young lady later. He slowed the horses a bit. No need to risk an accident on the night ride just because his blood was ablaze.

Julia de Calbo was angry. She needed some fresh air away from the city and its incessant bustle. Its ever-blazing lights, its parties which were usually only so boring as they were endless. And of course, she wanted some fresh air away from her useless husband who spent most of his time in revelry or in brothels where he was known by name now.

The carriage sped through the countryside and with each yard she felt more and more free.

She was glad Agostino was with her. His calm demeanor was like a soft blanket over her nerves. She always liked him. Calm, collected, faithful and strong, in his approaching age seemingly even stronger than before. She once saw him lift the side of a light carriage by himself when the wheel broke.

The carriage came up on a small hill. The lights of the city in the distance, fog swallowing the countryside. This was the place she choose.

She opened a small window in the front “Could we stop here for a moment, Agostino please.” She shouted.

The carriage came to a stop almost instantly. She didn’t wait for him to help her and jumped out, her high-heeled shoes sticking into the cold, moist ground. She took them off and jumped up next to Agostino on the bench.

He watched her intently.

“Could I take a puff from that pipe of yours, Agostino?” she asked innocently, yet demanding.

Agostino took out his old pipe and began cleaning it. “Good night to smoke, ey, Lady?” he said.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Julia, Agostino?” she smiled moving the skirts on her cumbersome dress around to sit more comfortably.

“Pardon me my L ... Julia.” he was pretending he just didn’t catch a glimpse of her thighs high up in the place where her white stockings ended.

He started the pipe for her and handed it over, rubbing his long whiskers, pretending to be deep in thought while he tried not to stare too intently at her bare feet, covered only by the finest white stocking one could buy. She moved her toes around as she took a puff from the pipe.

Her long brown hair obscured her face and the delicate neckline of her supple figure. Her bust, small as it may be, was pushed up by her corset and shined now in full view as he sat next to her, facing her, watching her smoke.

Julia felt his gaze wandering around her body. Its heat flushed her cheeks. She wanted him to look. Come to think of that, she wanted way more. Ever since she saw him last summer, bathing in the river that cut through the small patch of woods on the manor grounds. He was perhaps a bit older and his nose was a bit crooked, but the hair on his chest was dark, and muscles underneath were thick, like a hempen rope. Thinking of rope, that massive thing dangling between his legs became something she thought of quite often since that day.

The strong scent of tobacco hit her nose, then her lungs. She felt its calming, soothing effect spread through her body, her fingers and toes suddenly tingling slightly. She hated the taste, but the effect was lovely. It was much more calming than those pipes they passed around at many a fancy party in the capital.

But it wasn’t for tobacco she stopped the carriage. Agostino knew that very well.

He knew, that she had a pipe of her own, he was the one they sent to buy it for her in the first place. But for now, he was content with waiting, watching her as she put her hair behind her ear and poured her green-eyed gaze over the cold countryside.

“Is it always like that?” she asked with an unexpected tenderness in her voice.

“There is always light in the darkness.” he replied, thinking about the glow of the city on the horizon.

“Will he just keep doing this then? Drinking all day and spending his nights in brothels? Only visiting me once his whores had failed him? And only to do as he pleases and leave again?” she said, silent tears running down her cheek.

If Agostino didn’t expect such words from her, he didn’t show it. “Night’s horizon has its jewel.” he said pointing towards the city “So should every darkness. You will learn, I have seen many a noble lady in your position. There is marriage and then, then there is love.” he said after a long silence, when she started to doubt he will ever speak again.

“And then, there is fun.” she added stifling a giggle.

Agostino’s face was a wide grin in the darkness. So that is why you stopped the carriage here, you little vixen. “Yes, that as well.” he said, resuming his serious face.

“You know,” continued Julia “With all these whores he is fucking ... I am starting to think he may be impotent.”

“How do you mean?” frowned Agostino.

“Well all the whores and maids and I don’t know who and still no bastard. I am too still unburdened by his offspring. He spreads his seed with each step he takes and yet, none of it sprouts.” Julia was grinning, her tears almost forgotten now. She turned to Agostino and noticed he was stiff as a board. Not even the tiniest movement on his face, nor did his hands move or any part of his body for that matter. He was clearly waiting.

She took another puff from the pipe. “Now let’s say we give him a bastard of his own. What would you think of that?” she said finally arriving at her point.

As she said that, she lifted her skirts slightly, showing him her white stockings gleaming in the night’s darkness. She pulled even higher, where the stocking ended on her upper thighs.

He instantly grabbed her skirts and pulled them down, his hand however didn’t move away from her now-covered knee.

“Don’t start something, you might not want to finish, Julia.” he said with concern that was only partially fake.

“Do you think I don’t know what I am doing?” she asked, placing her hand on his crotch. She immediately felt his hard manhood throb with expectation in his pants. “He seems to agree with me.” she added as she leaned closer.

He leaned in as well, their mouths joining, locking together in an eruption of passion. The kiss was so intense, that Julia felt the slow spread of wetness in her nethers, her body trembling with expectation, prepared for what was about to come. It seemed inevitable now.

When they let go of the kiss, she felt his hand reach underneath her skirts as she placed her head on his strong shoulder, biting her lips impatiently. She gasped when he roughly grabbed her inner thigh moving his hand up and down its length. Multiple times during this she offered her hips to the invisible hand underneath her skirt and multiple times the hand ignored it, deepening her yearning to a point where she considered putting her hand down there and pleasuring herself.

His hand finally stopped its intoxicating movements, stuck deep in her loins, she felt the back of his hand rub against her burning nethers. Almost without thought, she closed her legs, forcing his hand closer, until finally, she felt him touch the outer lips of her burning pussy.

His touch, rough, experienced and steady, made her gasp as she grabbed onto his other arm as if to steady herself. His fingers slid along her loins, spreading her juices everywhere. She felt the build-up, she knew he was preparing something, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Looking up and seeing his focused face, her eyes begged without words. He noticed her gaze and gave her a quick kiss, before pushing two of his finger up against her gate. She gasped, her gaze rising to the night sky, her neck stretching. He was waiting for this exactly, his mouth immediately stuck to her delicate neck as the two fingers gently and slowly entered her.

She never did any of this. She knew sex and she had seen many things in the capital, but she always stopped herself, for her husband and her vows. Not that he did the same for her. Or that he ever managed to get anything done down there. But not anymore would I stop myself, she thought, not anymore will I confine my pleasure only to my own touch. Certainly not on the accord of my useless husband.

Meanwhile, Agostino pushed her skirts up a bit, and she eagerly put her legs up on the railing in front of the coachman’s bench. She saw, that his two fingers that entered her, his middle and ring finger were still inside, while the palm of his hand cupped and pressed up against the general area of her clitoris.

She breathed heavily, filled with expectation, but nothing happened yet. She turned, and with her hand, she pulled Agostino into another wet kiss. That was when he began. His fingers not moving in and out, as she usually did, when she pleasured herself, instead, he moved his entire hand up and down, his fingers curled up in her depths, the palm of his hand massaging her clit. Only a couple of these movements and she already felt the approach of her first peak ... first, of many, she hoped. Her clit was irritated from both inside and outside, the pressure building with each upward movement of his hand, he increased the pace.

A great fire erupted in her loins. Hungry, consuming, destroying everything in its path leaving naught, not even cinders. The dark road filled with her screams of pleasure, her toes curled up, and her thighs started shaking in an uncontrollable eruption of pleasure. Her one hand gripping the bench with all its might, the other sticking her nails into Agostino’s back as he continued with his work ever deepening the bottomless chasm, where she fell and only letting go when the pleasure fully consumed her.

Her gaze slowly returning to her, hearing the wet sounds of her own pussy, her labored breathing, her moans of release ... never before in her life did she feel such pleasure. His fingers exited her, giving her time to breathe as they looked at each other.

“I want more. Fuck me, use me, make me your whore and fill me with all that you have to offer.” she said, still trembling with delightful convulsions, looking straight into his eyes. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, yet she saw that she surprised him with it.

He frowned, then without saying a word he squeezed her cheeks until she opened her mouth and then he pushed his fingers, still wet with her juices into her throat. She gagged, licked, cleaned and obeyed every whim, she saw on his face as she sucked on his fingers, which brought her so much pleasure. She was a bit ashamed to admit, that she actually liked the taste of herself.