Chapter 2

The passionate interlude in the darkened shop entranceway between Claire Darcy and Arthur King had been a spur of the moment random impulse but Claire knew the unfortunate marriage to her anally obsessed spouse was soon to be a closed chapter in her life.

Her lush garden was still trembling with the strength of Arthur's violent thrusts and the delicious stretching caused by his unusually thick shaft. She had not washed his spunk from her slit hoping that he had possibly managed to put her in a family way. Claire had just passed thirty and the thought of drying up without the joy of offspring was too much of a burden to shoulder in a mother-oriented society. She knew there was no chance of that with the anus-fixated Jean Claude who had spurned her natural opening for the tighter and more appealing one hiding like a frightened wild animal safely tucked away in the depths of her plump heart-shaped derriere.

The predictability of her husband Claude spearing her bum-hole on her return was so certain that she assumed her usual position face down on his grandmother's bed taking his fat weight on top of her naked body with resigned tears of frustration. She knew she owed duty to her husband but deep in her heart she felt he was abusing her trust by insisted she present him with her tiny private hole like some floozy greeting sailors returning from a long voyage.

She stumbled from the grand bedroom suite and went to one of the guest bedrooms to avail her stained body of a soothing bath to assuage her battered bum with scented rose water and a touch of some Italian oils. Instinctively, she knew in her soul that her new-found love, the artist Arthur King would never take pleasure back there unless she invited him first just for the sport of something exciting and different.

The upstairs maid Dominique came into the room with a candle lantern and inquired if her services were required since "Madame" was up and about at such a late hour. Claire knew without asking that the pretty girl was well aware of Claude's perverted urgings to enter her unnatural opening and she was tempted to ask the girl if he had been pestering the female staff with the same depraved needs. She restrained from asking because the likelihood of his nasty habit being imposed on the young female servants was almost certain in an age when female servants were well-used to such tomfoolery.

The girl was most attentive to Claire's battered backside and she rubbed in the Italian oils with gentle fingers.

"The Master has been most rough in his treatment of Madame's dainty bottom"

Claire sighed in acknowledgement and patted the pretty girl's bare arm just above her.

"Thank you for your kindness, Cherie, but it is his right to do so. At least, he does not make me use my mouth like Lady Montague's nasty husband, Colonel Harold. She tells me he holds her nostrils shut and makes her swallow his terrible liquids all the way down like some unwashed harlot on the street corner. I can't imagine such impudence."

Actually, it was a favorite fantasy of Claire's and she hoped that her new friend Arthur would soon put her through her paces in just such a manner. If he was ignorant of the procedure, she would whisper it in his ear discreetly and make him think it was all his idea. She told Dominique all about how she had bent over for the stranger in the doorway during the rainstorm and described the feeling of his spunk hitting deep inside her vaginal channel. She explained it was more the "wetness" that overwhelmed her and pushed her into a veritable swoon still standing on her feet.

Dominique was frigging her button frantically during the expose and had to hold onto Claire's shoulder to keep from toppling over onto the fluffy white carpet imported from Portugal. The servant girl's generous breasts were bouncing in Claire's face and she felt it was only hospitable to suck the proffered nipples with adequate firmness. The silly girl was still with milk after her birthing cycle right after the start of the New Year. The taste of the stuff was comforting to Claire and she switched from one breast to the other finding the liquid to be high quality and soothing to her state of mind.

The girl bent low and returned the favor but Claire had no milk to give the submissive and attentive servant noticeably much to her unhappy reflection. Instead, she pushed the girl's head down to her woman's "V" and allowed her to sip at Arthurs remaining cream telling her,

"Tell me how he tastes, my dear. Is he sweet like a romantic lover or harsh like a demanding spouse?"

The girl moved her hot lips up and down Claire's scented slit and licked the residue from her mouth like a gourmet treat.

"Oh, Madame, it is marvelous. I am reminded of my first husband Raymond with his butcher's dick and scent of cloves when he spurted out his love-juice."

Claire had to laugh at the description because she was a bit jealous that Dominique had managed to taste her Arthur before she could feel him on her tongue and feel his spunk ooze down her throat. She pushed the girl's pretty face deeper into her heated crotch and gave her the benefit of her own juice to blend with her lover's.

After she had taken her happy orgasm, Claire offered up her bare cheeks to the girl for a spirited spanking with the hairbrush on her dressing table. It was a ceremony that the servant girl shared with her in secret because it was a trifle unseemly for a servant to be paddling her mistress behind a locked bedroom door. Claire was the sort of female that didn't really consider class distinctions especially when it came to satisfying her ever-increasing need for physical contact that didn't involve stretching her sphincter.

She had chosen Dominique to be her personal maid because the girl was without a doubt the most skilful "kisser" she had ever encountered. Once the pretty girl gave her a taste of her juicy lips, there really was little Claire could do to deny her mouth and other parts of her shapely body that glimpse of paradise. Her husband didn't believe in the business. In all honesty most of the males that she had close personal relations with over the years were focused on only one thing. Of course, that was to consummate the union of prick to vagina without wasting time on frivolous foreplay. They generally considered such nonsense unnecessary niceties only slowing them down from spilling their seed deep inside their target like a proper gentleman.