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drops it to the floor, and raising her upward to meet him halfway, crushes his mouth against hers as his cock, ever-hard whenever she is close, strains for escape.

Eleanor’s Journal: Ghosts
    A Falconworth ghost or even ghosts? Matthew laughs and calls me fanciful, but our apartments in the east wing house one of the priest holes. We have two here at Falconworth, and I doubt I’m the first occupant who has wondered about past events.
    The secret hiding place is still in existence almost exactly as it was when first constructed. Although we’ve made a few additions to the cosy space, it has remained little altered through the centuries. It’s almost as if the east wing of the house has protection from powers that nobody understands. Our private quarters are a haven for us, the priest hole is kitted out as a diary room for me complete with recording equipment, for Matthew’s amusement, and I’m happy to indulge him. I’ll make recordings for his enjoyment, and keep a journal too, a written and visual record for future use.
    Sometimes, when I’m sitting in this part of the house, I imagine I hear voices from the past, and I want the website to be a perfect reflection of the house’s history melded with the present and future as Matthew and I realise our dreams via Falconworth.
    I skim through my research notes. “ About the middle of the eighteenth century Falconworth passed out of the hands of the original owners and not long after developed a reputation for unaccountable noises, which disturbed the tranquillity. Violent knocks, hammerings, groaning, and sounds of footsteps, which could not be reconciled with those of the occupants and strange sights frightened the servants, some of whom left, vowing never to return. A ghostly appari tion was reported dressed in monk’s garb and would appear and disappear mysteriously. A female figure was seen flying, rushing through the apartments…”
    Love and passion, mystery, and history are intoxicating to me. I am in awe that Matthew brought me here to this place, where I am indulged so thoroughly, happy to repay his generosity by providing entertainment for his enjoyment.
    He accompanies my journey into the unknown, which began from the moment of meeting. Before that, I was living my dream of being a nurse, the only dream I remember having. Playing with dolls, creating emergencies in which I was the angel who arrived to save the day, my patients always lived, there was no realism in my childhood generated medical drama. When I qualified and took up my post at the military hospital, I learned that even an angel, surrounded by the most capable medics in the world is unable to perform miracles. My mother told me that I never even considered being a doctor, and only ever talked of nursing.
    Settling into the whirlwind lifestyle that went with the territory as if I had never known anything else, I worked hard, had fun, played the field and didn’t think about settling down, but that was before Matthew, and the choices he laid at my feet like a sacrificial offering. There was no choice; I placed my dreams alongside his in a heartbeat.
    I think we all crave knowledge beyond our understanding. From the minute I first looked into Matthew’s dazzling eyes, I knew that I would follow him wherever he led, thirsty for his teaching and my learning, craving lessons at his hands, his wishes are my wishes, it’s liberating and thrilling, ascending new heights.
    Committing every detail to paper and carrying out his wish list is my new ambition, he seems to have awakened a spirit of romance that I didn’t know existed, and since coming to Falconworth, the feeling has intensified.
    When I hear my own footsteps echoing along the hallways and passageways of the manor, I imagine all the other footfalls, which have walked the pathways before me, and those that are to come. Our future guests, those we will entertain. I know what is expected of me, will justify Matthew’s faith in me, and my