As a woman with passion

"This is no game, Mr. Fuller." Charlotte tried to keep her voice level and soothing, much like she was quieting a spirited mount, but at least some of the anger and hurt bled through in spite of her best efforts to hide her wild emotions. "I did not seek you out by the brook, and I certainly did not expect to find you climbing into my bed well into the night hours." She took his strong hand in hers and much as he had done moments before brought it to her lips. "You said you weren't sure what brought you here tonight Mr. Fuller, well I am as unsure as you," she turned his hand over and kissed the ball of his thumb smelling the mixture of soap and evergreen on his palm, "but I don't want you to go. Not yet."

"I can not stay, Lady Marlton." Mr. Fuller grunted tensely. "You ... I can't be here with you." He tried to pull his hand away as she rested her cheek against the rough skin, but in a clear indication of how conflicted her was, Charlotte had no trouble keeping her grip and pressing his hand even more firmly against her face. She could feel him wavering, his fingertips played with the curve of her ear sending waves of pleasure that burst like Guy Fawkes squibs at the swollen tips of her breasts and deep within her abdomen, and then his calloused thumb found the soft skin of her throat just under the line of her chin and drew experimental circles so gently that she didn't know whether to faint or scream.

"You can't leave, Mr. Fuller." Charlotte's other hand finished the job of opening her bodice that he had started on before the moment of doubt and judging by his sharp breath and the way his eyes focused on the exposed swell of white skin, Charlotte knew that he was unlikely to be going anywhere any time soon. She should have been terrified to have this man she barely knew so hungry for her, but instead she felt a wave of power. It was after all a bold new century, why shouldn't a maiden experience the mysteries of erotic union before her marriage bed? None of her suitors had forsaken the pleasures of the flesh, certainly not Mr. Worthington. Charlotte had heard more than a few rumors of his dalliances with the finest Ladies of London society, their young debutante daughters, and even those unfortunate maids who caught his eye and were not quick enough to escape his clutches. If he could rut with all manner of the gentler sex, why shouldn't she have this forbidden moment for herself?

With a boldness that she could have only imagined a week past, Charlotte pulled Mr. Fuller's hand down her throat to rest on the soft pillows that peeked from the nightgown. She could feel his knuckles brush softly against her warm skin and then, with a noise that could have been half growl and half groan he eased his hand into the gown and cupped her left breast squeezing the firm globe gently.

"Oh God - YES!" Lady Marlton's exclamation as he fondled her tit was the final straw in Randy's eroding defenses. It shouldn't surprise him that she was not the timid maid she had claimed to be when he had her at his mercy earlier in the week. A woman of her age should have been married years ago, most of London's debutantes found suitors in their coming out season and were married at seventeen or eighteen, by twenty or more Lady Marlton must have had several lovers. Randy was familiar enough with the gossips to know that the rakes of English society had no scruples about plucking the roses of every young Lady they could seduce, and a beauty like Lady Marlton would be one of the first to fall. He lowered his lips to hers once again savouring the sweetness of her mouth, she pressed against him and he squeezed her full breast harder rolling her hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. When she gasped in response to the sensation, Randy took advantage of her open lips to slide his tongue between her teeth and explore the inner recesses of her mouth.

Randy no longer cared how many other men had shared this bed or felt the warmth of her breasts in their hands. For now at least, he was the man who felt her nipple tightening between his fingers and he was the man who would shortly bury himself to the hilt in her pussy. With the decision made, he moved with dedicated purpose towards that stated goal. Her nightgown proved easier to lift off her than he expected, much of it had already been bunched up at her waist and Miss Charlotte lifted her arms demurely allowing him to remove the lace cotton garment without a hint of protest. In fact, as soon as her clothing was cast aside Miss Charlotte turned her attention to pulling his tunic from his trousers, he tried to help her but his hands and lips were busy exploring the warm flesh uncovered by his efforts. Somehow between all the kissing and groping of her nude flesh his shirt came off and the lacing of his trousers loosened enough that they were pushed over his hips exposing a very erect manhood.

He had to pause for a moment to pull free his boots and socks before standing to climb out of his trousers, and as he stood before her he sensed a change in her; Miss Marlton's eyes were fixed on the bobbing of his erection and the purple head already oozing pre-cum. She lay naked on the bed, reclining on her elbow with one thigh draped over the other blocking his view of her sex, but providing a near perfect line of sight of her ass that gleamed in the silver moonlight. Again Randy studied her face as she watched him crawl onto the bed and it was her eyes that made him question his earlier assessment.

"You have done this before," he asked softly, "haven't you?"