your . . . your . . . lovers, they derive satisfaction from it as well?”
“Well, I like to believe they do.” He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “I do not brag when I say that I am quite renowned for my sexual prowess.”
Skeptically, she shook her head. “ ’Tis difficult for me to fathom that a woman would intentionally agree to undergo such attention, even if the man doing it to her is exceedingly experienced. It seems too personal.”
“That’s one of the reasons it’s so exhilarating.” Heflashed her a wicked grin. “ ’Tis also a bit naughty. I typically note that the
naughtier
something is supposed to be, the greater the gratification I derive from doing it.”
“You’re horrid.” She chuckled in response, then her brow wrinkled in consternation. “There’s one point I want to be clear on, though.”
“What’s that?”
“All this fondling and sucking and kissing . . . I assume it’s a necessary prelude to the marital act?”
“Well . . .” he mused, “I wouldn’t say
necessary
, but it certainly makes the proceedings more interesting.”
“But why must all this . . . initial touching . . . occur?”
“Simply because it is tantalizing; however, a woman is not as easily excited as a man, so it can be painful for her if he rushes to implant his hardened cock too quickly.”
“Aah . . .” she said pensively. “That’s the
pain
I’ve heard whispered about.”
“What you’ve heard talk of is a virgin’s pain on her wedding night. A woman is born with a thin piece of skin covering the opening to her womb. It is called her maidenhead. This a man tears when he enters her for the first time. The moment can be quite terrible if the woman is not properly relaxed. Even with adequate stimulation, it can still be . . . unpleasant.”
“So this
stimulation
results from all the caressing?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “A woman has many sensitive places on her body. When they are appropriately aroused, she is ready for mating.”
“And while the man is so busy, what is the woman doing?”
“She is kissing him and touching him in return. Usually a woman will take a man’s cock in her hands or in her mouth”—her eyes widened at this—“in order to stroke him in a sexual rhythm. It is extremely invigorating and increases the man’s anticipation for the coming event.”
“A man would expect the woman to touch his private parts?”
“Perhaps not during their early encounters, but . . . yes,he would come to desire it on a regular basis as the woman learns more of her wifely duties.”
Her eyes worked their way back to the parchment again, but not before engaging in a quick inventory down his front, her furtive, curious gaze lingering briefly on his crotch. Luckily, he continued to lean forward, so she couldn’t detect the bulge she’d created. He was still hard as a poker, none of his sexual agitation having waned in the least.
While he loved the fantasy that she might one day slip a hand inside his trousers in order to manipulate him with those long, slender fingers, that she might eventually suck at him with those lush, ruby lips, now wasn’t the time for her to discover what size a man’s phallus could actually grow to be. Any illusions she had were best humored until she was equipped for a more intimate lesson.
He laid the first painting on the table in front of the sofa, then he handed her the second in the stack. “Look at the next.”
The voluptuous woman had rolled to her side, and a nude man had joined her. He was mostly hidden from view, stretched out behind her with a leg casually tossed over her thigh, a hand twirling her nipple. Lady Abigail stared for long moments before the obvious appeared to her.
“ ’Tis you!” she hissed, turning to him with accusing eyes. “The man in this picture is you!”
“Yes.”
“You’re naked!”
“Yes,” he said again.
“Is there more of you?”
“In nearly every portrait.” She reached out as though she
“Well, I like to believe they do.” He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “I do not brag when I say that I am quite renowned for my sexual prowess.”
Skeptically, she shook her head. “ ’Tis difficult for me to fathom that a woman would intentionally agree to undergo such attention, even if the man doing it to her is exceedingly experienced. It seems too personal.”
“That’s one of the reasons it’s so exhilarating.” Heflashed her a wicked grin. “ ’Tis also a bit naughty. I typically note that the
naughtier
something is supposed to be, the greater the gratification I derive from doing it.”
“You’re horrid.” She chuckled in response, then her brow wrinkled in consternation. “There’s one point I want to be clear on, though.”
“What’s that?”
“All this fondling and sucking and kissing . . . I assume it’s a necessary prelude to the marital act?”
“Well . . .” he mused, “I wouldn’t say
necessary
, but it certainly makes the proceedings more interesting.”
“But why must all this . . . initial touching . . . occur?”
“Simply because it is tantalizing; however, a woman is not as easily excited as a man, so it can be painful for her if he rushes to implant his hardened cock too quickly.”
“Aah . . .” she said pensively. “That’s the
pain
I’ve heard whispered about.”
“What you’ve heard talk of is a virgin’s pain on her wedding night. A woman is born with a thin piece of skin covering the opening to her womb. It is called her maidenhead. This a man tears when he enters her for the first time. The moment can be quite terrible if the woman is not properly relaxed. Even with adequate stimulation, it can still be . . . unpleasant.”
“So this
stimulation
results from all the caressing?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “A woman has many sensitive places on her body. When they are appropriately aroused, she is ready for mating.”
“And while the man is so busy, what is the woman doing?”
“She is kissing him and touching him in return. Usually a woman will take a man’s cock in her hands or in her mouth”—her eyes widened at this—“in order to stroke him in a sexual rhythm. It is extremely invigorating and increases the man’s anticipation for the coming event.”
“A man would expect the woman to touch his private parts?”
“Perhaps not during their early encounters, but . . . yes,he would come to desire it on a regular basis as the woman learns more of her wifely duties.”
Her eyes worked their way back to the parchment again, but not before engaging in a quick inventory down his front, her furtive, curious gaze lingering briefly on his crotch. Luckily, he continued to lean forward, so she couldn’t detect the bulge she’d created. He was still hard as a poker, none of his sexual agitation having waned in the least.
While he loved the fantasy that she might one day slip a hand inside his trousers in order to manipulate him with those long, slender fingers, that she might eventually suck at him with those lush, ruby lips, now wasn’t the time for her to discover what size a man’s phallus could actually grow to be. Any illusions she had were best humored until she was equipped for a more intimate lesson.
He laid the first painting on the table in front of the sofa, then he handed her the second in the stack. “Look at the next.”
The voluptuous woman had rolled to her side, and a nude man had joined her. He was mostly hidden from view, stretched out behind her with a leg casually tossed over her thigh, a hand twirling her nipple. Lady Abigail stared for long moments before the obvious appeared to her.
“ ’Tis you!” she hissed, turning to him with accusing eyes. “The man in this picture is you!”
“Yes.”
“You’re naked!”
“Yes,” he said again.
“Is there more of you?”
“In nearly every portrait.” She reached out as though she
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