Page 57 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
Calista blushed, but didn’t protest or gasp. “That’s already—”
“Her ladyship is prepared for you,” said Miss Arden, interjecting.
Odd that Miss Arden would know that, but perhaps ladies discussed the weather and the state of their nether parts over tea. A man could only hope. And imagine.
Edward had Calista’s skirts about her waist, exposing the lacy white drawers shielding her untold pleasures. God, he loved lace, he thought to himself as he squeezed his cockstand through his smalls to prepare for this somewhat surprising afternoon breeding.
Never one to enter the fraysansadvance scouting, Edward felt for a slit in those drawers and eventually gained access.
He bent so that his mouth was over Calista’s ear; these words were for her alone. “Have you made all this honey for me, darling?” he asked, running his fingertips over her cunny lips.
Dash, she was wet. So wet she was glazed within and without, as if he’d licked her to three screaming paroxysms. He must be more handsome than he imagined!
And then he pushed a finger into her hot little hole, just to test its give, and found it sucked and welcomed him, as if he’d already stretched her for a rough rogering.
“Oh, that’s a good little cunny, plenty of space for this shaft,” he murmured. “You’re ready to take me. Are you going to let your dear brother-in-law put a baby in you?”
Calista slumped against the divan, looking well-used before he’d even stuck his cock in her. Frankly, it was flattering. Herneckline seemed to have lowered in their intimate exchange, and her areolae peeked out the top.
Beside her, Miss Arden whispered in her ear, both women nodding in agreement. No doubt discussing what a skilled lover he was; it was too bad for Miss Arden that his brother only contracted him to breed one woman. Still, provided the lady begged enough, certain allowances might be made for her.
He shoved down his smalls, breeches still on. He couldn’t wait to remove his boots and clothes today, not with a juicy peach of a cunt waiting for him.
It was when he looked down upon parting the generous slit in Calista’s drawers again that he saw something curious. A red circle on her inner thigh. Another place that seemed lightly bruised by teeth. Gesù, if his brother was worshipping between his wife’s thighs so comprehensively, why bother bringing in a stud? With a marriage bed so lively as that, he’d have to get his boy sometime!
As he sank into Calista’s perfect clasp, the way eased by slick and languid muscles, Edward surveyed the scene before him. Calista’s face was turned slightly toward her companion. She shuddered when Edward set a thumb on her nub and gave her a firm thrust of his cock.
But it was nothing to the shakes she made when Miss Arden placed a hand at her waist and delivered a little pinch.
Oh, so she liked pain. How interesting. The way her cunny tightened on his cock certainly tested his strength, and Edward breathed deep to avoid an ignominiously quick end to this encounter.
He stared at where Miss Arden’s pinch pulled down Calista’s neckline until her little nipple appeared. A moan drew his gaze up again, and he saw the most incredible thing: Miss Arden had her teeth on Calista’s ear.
Not just her teeth. Her tongue. She was nipping and licking and sucking like that ear was the prettiest cunny in the capital. Why, it was downright erotic! Someone should tell these ladies that their conduct was…
And then Lord Edward’s cock grew — somehow — even harder as the truth of the matter struck him: this cast-off wife of his brother’s wasn’t sitting up here doing needlepoint, waiting for a man to pleasure her. She had Miss Arden, who was now kissing the side of her neck and pulling that neckline ever lower.
Why, the memory of this would keep his cock hard for weeks. He’d need to thank them on the way out for inspiring him to action.
And then he reconsidered the marks on Calista’s thighs. How wet she’d been when he set fingers to her the first time. It was almost as if someone had licked her to extravagant wetness before he walked in the door.
He slid through the slippery mess these two ladies had made when purportedly sewing up here, then rubbed Calista’s nub faster, hoping she’d reach paroxysm before his cock exploded.
“Oh, Harriet,” moaned Calista.
“It’s actually Edward. Or you can call me Dick Stone; everyone does in moments like this.”
Her haze cleared immediately, and she glared at Edward, her channel clamping down on him suddenly as if to punish him. Punish him with pleasure!
“I’m right here, C,” whispered Miss Arden, who presumably had a given name of Harriet. “I’ll always be right beside you.”
Full realization slammed into Edward like a runaway horse cart: these ladies weren’t merely playing in sewing rooms. They were deeply in love.
His vision blurred, and cock hardened, signaling that he’d finally arrived at the full truth of the matter. His yell could have alerted the whole of St. James’s Square had the windows been open, and his seed pumped into Calista as she lay back on that divan like a martyr.
Edward kept thrusting to milk every drop from his sack. All the while, he studied the ladies, their embrace now tight and their words quiet even as he remained inside his sister-in-law.
When he withdrew, the women barely acknowledged his existence. To be fair, they seemed to have everything they needed in this room before he even walked in.
