Yep.

You enjoy the afterglow with your new beloved. Stephen left soon after you fucked his fiancee and announced that she was yours now.

Whatever it is that makes women perfectly acquiescent to your sexual desires had also made Nadine acquiescent to your desire to marry her, regardless of how it would effect her future plans or her real feelings towards you. Your sexual satisfaction was paramount, and a marriage could help her achieve that.

Your father was a bit unnerved, as he had other plans. Henrietta may have had a crush on you, and was growing dismayed by the sexual proclivity you displayed with her mother, your sister, and now Nadine Johnson, who you just deflowered and announced as your wife. She left soon after Granholm.

But you weren't paying attention to any of this. You fucked Nadine again one more time as the party died. You and her retired to the guest bedroom for the night.

You had been naked ever since you had first fucked Mrs. Dugan and since you ordered all the women to strip naked. The sight of them, especially in such a casual atmosphere amongst Rockton's high society, had maintained your erection despite several jaunts between Mrs. Dugan, Eleanor, and Nadine.

You were now staring at Nadine's perfect form in full glory on the guest bed. That's when Siobhan the immigrant maid walked in.

"My apologies, Master John, but your father sent me in here to change the linens. He suspects that, with Ms. Johnson staying the week, that she would prefer the freshest available."

The twenty-year-old Irish maid spoke with a thick accent. You eyed her hungrily, her being still naked from your order before, as you approached her with an erection.

"Tell me, Siobhan," you said, placing your hands on her shoulders and sliding them down her arms, "are you a virgin?"

She started mumbling something about being betrothed back in Ireland and having been taken by an uncle years before. A sad story, but you wouldn't let it ruin your fun.

"On the bed," you order simply, and Siobhan picks up your meaning by bending onto the bed and pointing her ass toward you. You and Nadine share eye contact, and you somehow wordlessly tell her to place her vagina in front of Siobhan.

Siobhan doesn't know much about the ways of Sappho, but Nadine seems to, as she and the maid exchange words. Pretty soon, she's eating out Nadine as you effortlessly enter her wet entrance.

You're pumping in and out of Siobhan, as Siobhan is lathering up and teasing Nadine, who is crying out once more in ecstasy. Newtonian physics seem to be in play as orgamic energy passes between you and Nadine through Siobhan. As you release your seed into a questionably willing employee, Nadine's father, Mr. Myron T. Johnson, Esq., storms in.

"Oh, pardon me, young man, but I must speak to my daughter at once!" said the bald mustachioed man in a dinner jacket who clearly hurried over after receiving a telegram. He isn't overly alarmed at his daughter engaging in sapphism, or the very lewd image in front of him.

"Father," she says calmly, while trying to squirm out from under her two fornicating partners. "If you'll excuse me, John..."

You flop out of Siobhan. "Now, hold on one minute," you say, approaching the rotund man that used to clerk for former President William Howard Taft, "your daughter is my whore for the week, and we're to be married. If you need to address her, you shall do so through me."

You stare up at the legendary attorney, who simply sighs and accepts your argument. "Young man," he says, refusing to address you by name, "she may be your whore, and that is all fine and understandable, but you cannot in good conscience wed my daughter. She has already been promised to another. Surely, you could wed that maid or one of your sisters if it so pleases you."

You were pretty sure the last suggestion was illegal in the state of Ohio, but perhaps the Frenchman's Disease could grant you certain allowances you had not conceived of, beyond merely robbing women of their virtue and ignoring the bonds of fidelity.

"I will do with your daughter as I please," you say, beckoning Nadine to arise and stand by your side. You warmly embrace her and makeout, as only a Frenchman could, groping her breasts and then slipping a knuckle or two within her quivering opening.

Once again, Nadine had no say as her father and another man argued over her future. While she was in love with Stephen Granholm, and pressured him to push your father for engagement, here she was only concerned with pleasing you sexually, and the idea of throwing all her gains away put a pit in her stomach.

Her father wasn't alarmed at the continued sexual advances on his daughter, and you grew tired of his protests. Surely, Stephen Granholm had wired him to come here and persuade you, and sure enough, the checkbook arrived.

"$1000 for my daughter's hand returned."

"No."

"$5000"

"No."

"$8000"

You were taken aback by the exorbitant amount. Where would an attorney, even the greatest in all Ohio, get such money? You looked at Nadine and contemplated the offer. Perhaps you could take it, finish out your week or however long, and take her later. Perhaps you could keep her as a ****, or allow her to marry Granholm, but stay with you permanently and never sleep with him.

"No," you say, with a heavy heart.

"For Christ's sake," said Johnson, blasphemly, "I can get you many better whores. You can marry my niece, my step-daughter. Just don't take Naddy away."

The old man was crying, you think, behind his large bushy mustache.

"No," you said, with a heavy heart. "Siobhan, see the old man out. And suck him off in the hallway." Questioningly, the maid took his arm and led him out as you slammed the door and turned to your fiancee whore.

"Are you sure this is wise?" she says, probably hoping to convince you to reconsider.

"Yes," you say coldly. You fuck her once more on the stained linens, roughly, working out your frustrations from the event.