swiftly followed by her dress as he tore at the lacings then carried her, their mouths locked hungrily together, to the huge pink velvet hung bed.
It had started in Bath, first with a few admiring glances then some pretty compliments about her hair, her eyes, her lovely face and then finally a stolen but deliciously lingering kiss in the dark ante chamber of her mother’s rented house. She had been simultaneously thrilled and terrified by the prospect of being found out and this had quickly caused their few brief meetings to become highly charged and addictive until finally they had returned to London and began to meet in this house. Tentatively at first but then with enthusiasm.
That she had lost her virginity, which she had always been taught to prize above all things, in the highly scented pink bedroom of a brothel rather than within the starched expensive sheets of her future marriage bed was of course an annoyance but Phoebe tried not to let it trouble her too much. Better by far, she reasoned, for one’s first lover to be an experienced man of the world than some callow, fumbling youth. She dreaded to think how her mother would react should she ever find out though. The shock might actually kill her.
She could hear the sounds of other couples in the house, their sighs and moans floating through the walls and surrounding them both as he gently slid her fine linen shift off her shoulders and kissed her breasts then slipped lower down her body until he was nuzzling between her thighs, gently teasing her legs apart as she groaned and pushed herself against his face. A bed somewhere else in the house was banging furiously against the wall behind it and she heard a man cry out with each thud until finally both he and the bed fell silent to be replaced by a woman’s high pitched giggle.
‘I wish that I could let down all your hair,’ George murmured as she mounted him, her long dark ringlets tickling his chest as she leaned forward to kiss him. ‘It’s so beautiful. You are beautiful.’ He flung his head back as she lowered herself up and down upon him, pressing his hands to her breasts and biting her lip to hold back the cries as pure pleasure flooded through her body.
‘My turn now,’ he whispered, kissing her hot neck as she collapsed on top of him. Obligingly she rolled to the side and spread her legs wide, stroking herself as groaning with lust, he lowered himself onto her. ‘Oh, you beauty, you beauty,’ he murmured as they kissed deeply and she clutched wildly at his buttocks, pulling him further inside. Their headboard was banging noisily against the wall now and the thought of the house’s other inhabitants hearing them made the pleasure sear and course through her body for a second time.
They lay together for only a short time afterwards, softly kissing and gazing into each other’s eyes before George sat up, picked his white linen shirt up from the dusty floor and pulled it over his head. ‘I can’t stay for long today,’ he said over his shoulder as he did up the buttons at his wrists. ‘I’m sorry.’
Phoebe stretched and sat up. ‘I have to go anyway,’ she said with a mischievous smile, resting her chin briefly on his broad shoulder. ‘I’m meeting your daughters for tea this afternoon.’
He paused and turned to look at her. ‘At my house?’
‘Yes, at your house.’ She laughed at the look of abject horror on his face. ‘Oh come now, George. It was bound to happen eventually,’ she said, pulling her shift on over her head. ‘I can’t keep making excuses not to go there. Mama has started hopefully asking if I have fallen out with Eliza.’
George watched her for a moment, admiring her slender figure and firm, rosy tipped breasts. She was so unlike his wife in every way. He still loved Arabella, of course but she no longer excited him in any way, there were no secrets left to discover and no great passion that made his feet hurry home to her at the end of a long
It had started in Bath, first with a few admiring glances then some pretty compliments about her hair, her eyes, her lovely face and then finally a stolen but deliciously lingering kiss in the dark ante chamber of her mother’s rented house. She had been simultaneously thrilled and terrified by the prospect of being found out and this had quickly caused their few brief meetings to become highly charged and addictive until finally they had returned to London and began to meet in this house. Tentatively at first but then with enthusiasm.
That she had lost her virginity, which she had always been taught to prize above all things, in the highly scented pink bedroom of a brothel rather than within the starched expensive sheets of her future marriage bed was of course an annoyance but Phoebe tried not to let it trouble her too much. Better by far, she reasoned, for one’s first lover to be an experienced man of the world than some callow, fumbling youth. She dreaded to think how her mother would react should she ever find out though. The shock might actually kill her.
She could hear the sounds of other couples in the house, their sighs and moans floating through the walls and surrounding them both as he gently slid her fine linen shift off her shoulders and kissed her breasts then slipped lower down her body until he was nuzzling between her thighs, gently teasing her legs apart as she groaned and pushed herself against his face. A bed somewhere else in the house was banging furiously against the wall behind it and she heard a man cry out with each thud until finally both he and the bed fell silent to be replaced by a woman’s high pitched giggle.
‘I wish that I could let down all your hair,’ George murmured as she mounted him, her long dark ringlets tickling his chest as she leaned forward to kiss him. ‘It’s so beautiful. You are beautiful.’ He flung his head back as she lowered herself up and down upon him, pressing his hands to her breasts and biting her lip to hold back the cries as pure pleasure flooded through her body.
‘My turn now,’ he whispered, kissing her hot neck as she collapsed on top of him. Obligingly she rolled to the side and spread her legs wide, stroking herself as groaning with lust, he lowered himself onto her. ‘Oh, you beauty, you beauty,’ he murmured as they kissed deeply and she clutched wildly at his buttocks, pulling him further inside. Their headboard was banging noisily against the wall now and the thought of the house’s other inhabitants hearing them made the pleasure sear and course through her body for a second time.
They lay together for only a short time afterwards, softly kissing and gazing into each other’s eyes before George sat up, picked his white linen shirt up from the dusty floor and pulled it over his head. ‘I can’t stay for long today,’ he said over his shoulder as he did up the buttons at his wrists. ‘I’m sorry.’
Phoebe stretched and sat up. ‘I have to go anyway,’ she said with a mischievous smile, resting her chin briefly on his broad shoulder. ‘I’m meeting your daughters for tea this afternoon.’
He paused and turned to look at her. ‘At my house?’
‘Yes, at your house.’ She laughed at the look of abject horror on his face. ‘Oh come now, George. It was bound to happen eventually,’ she said, pulling her shift on over her head. ‘I can’t keep making excuses not to go there. Mama has started hopefully asking if I have fallen out with Eliza.’
George watched her for a moment, admiring her slender figure and firm, rosy tipped breasts. She was so unlike his wife in every way. He still loved Arabella, of course but she no longer excited him in any way, there were no secrets left to discover and no great passion that made his feet hurry home to her at the end of a long
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