Aardfear The Visitor Ch. 02

Aardfear The Visitor 2

The older Celtic languages (Celtic with a hard K sound, not sel-tic) of Scotland and Ireland are called Gaelic. Irish Gaelic is pronounced, 'Gay-lick.' Scottish Gaelic is 'Gah-lick. No emphasis on either syllable.

There will be some Scottish words in this story, just think, 'Outlander.' I will give you the proper way to pronounce certain names, or explain words you may not be familiar with, beginning with his name. 'Malcolm,' the second 'L,' is silent, so it sounds like 'Malcome,' neither syllable is stressed. 'Aardfear,' from Scottish Gaelic, pronounced Aard-far. 'Aard,' means high, 'fear,' means man. 'High-man,' is he an angel, or a supernatural being from a higher place this 'Malcolm of Aardfar?'

Brae = Hill. Glen = Valley. Laird = Lord. Mairi = A woman's name pronounced Marry, the Gaelic form of Mary. Kelpie = a demon in the shape of a horse that lives in and near water.

...

It was a fine, late summer morning as Malcom of Aardfar rode his horse along the track letting her pick her own path. She was a sure-footed mare who rarely if ever stumbled, and he saw no point in forcing her on. His destination would still be there whenever he got there, and he was enjoying the countryside and the scenery at his own leisurely pace. Finally, he was leaving the slightly bleaker uplands where he had spent the night in a village so small it had no name. However, there was one name he couldn't forget from the village and that was Mairi, the young woman he had secretly spent the night with. He thought of her constantly as he was descending into the softer looking and heavily wooded glen.

He followed the path down, seeing another river through the trees, and larger, more open fields here, heavy with the crops of late summer. The men of these glens would be returning soon from their foray against whoever was the current object of their warlike intentions. Those crops would need harvesting within a few weeks he judged.

Very soon he was on the valley floor, his horse ambling along at the same leisurely pace, and taking a slight detour, he made his way to the riverbank thinking to let his horse drink from the slow-moving waters. He followed the riverbank for a little while until he came to a bend and found a small shingle beach where the water had eroded the riverbank. He stopped and dismounted. This was an ideal place, which allowed the horse to drink from the water without having to negotiate a steep bank.

Trees lined both banks, casting dappled shadows on the water, with the sunlight filtering through the foliage. The water looked deep and slow moving here forming an ideal pool for swimming. A thought that had obviously occurred to someone else before him it seemed. Some discarded female garments were hanging from a low branch on a tree to his left-hand side, but he could see no one in the water. He tethered the horse to an adjacent tree, then called out.

'I see your clothes hanging here upon this tree, but where are you my fine water sprite?' he said, raising his voice a little. There was no reply, only silence. He waited, and then called again in a melodramatic, anguished voice. 'Oh, dear lord have mercy upon her soul, I fear the water kelpie has drowned her and taken her body and soul to his demonic lair.' There was a faint rustling in the bushes and thick undergrowth, and then a young woman's voice, faint, and trembling with obvious fright.

'K... kelpies... please sir do not frighten me,' she said plaintively, 'I have heard nought of Kelpies in this pool or indeed this river.

'Come out then lass, and I will protect you; I have my broadsword and pistols ready to ward off any such vile creature.'

'Oh sir,' she wailed, 'I cannot come out, for I have no clothes, they hang on the tree beside you where you must see them.' He smiled, knowing full well her predicament.

'Very well, I will walk away a little distance and turn my back,' he promised, 'and I swear on my honour as a gentleman that I will not turn around until you inform me that you are suitably dressed. He turned away and waited, and within moments the bushes rustled, louder than before. After a little while he heard her speaking again.

'I am dressed again sir, you may turn now if you wish,' and eager to see this, 'water sprite,' he turned, and seeing her he immediately bowed deeply. This was no simple highland peasant girl. This was what they called a young lady of quality. He would have known that from her clothing if he had bothered to look as it hung from the tree branch.

'At your service m'lady,' he offered, doffing his bonnet as a mark of respect as he bowed. She smiled.

'Who, may I ask, are you sir?' she enquired.

'Malcom of Aardfar, m'lady, I have business with the laird and was on my way there when I stopped to water my horse.' She nodded, but said nothing, giving him time to add, 'a fortuitous meeting indeed, just in time to save you from the water kelpies,' he chanced a joke to gauge her reaction. A slight smile, the corners of her mouth barely turning up, but he knew she was amused.

'Indeed sir... if I believed in such creatures as water kelpies. The women of the house used to tell me dreadful, frightening stories of such creatures when I was but a child,' she explained. 'I was more concerned with my predicament than with mythical water demons.' He raised an eyebrow. She had sounded quite concerned just moments ago, but he let it pass by.

'I am returning home and will be your guide if you care to accompany me,' she offered. 'Just in case meet a water Kelpie, you understand,' she joked.

'I would be delighted and honoured to be your escort m'lady,' he agreed. She bent down and retrieved a small wooden case from under one of the bushes, while he untethered the horse, leading it by the reins. When she saw him looking at the box she explained.

'I came out this morning to make some sketches, drawings. The scenery here is so beautiful I am determined to paint a picture of it.' He nodded, but again said nothing. 'After the walk from the castle and drawing for some time, I thought I would take to the waters for a swim, it being such a lovely warm morning. I had no thoughts of being discovered, after all, most of the men are away with my father. Imagine my surprise and horror when I heard the sound of a horse's hooves along the riverbank. You gave me quite a fright sir,' she concluded.

'Even more than the kelpies,' he teased her. She laughed; it was a lovely girlish sound. 'Indeed sir,' she replied.

He had been taking stock of her as they walked, saying little but looking and admiring her appearance. She was of middling height, around five foot five or six, her figure slim and girlish. Her dark hair, which would normally have been, 'dressed,' and pinned up in some fashion lay loosely and damply across her shoulders. Obviously wet from her swimming but drying now in the sunlight. Her face was a delight, soft skinned and pale, for ladies like her rarely ventured out in strong sunlight. Only the lower classes sported suntans from working outdoors in those distant times.

Her eyes, despite her dark hair colouring were blue, her nose small and straight, her mouth was beautiful, full, soft lips, and a determined little chin. She was a great beauty and would have been as lovely as any of the great ladies he had seen in the salons of Paris, London, or Rome. He estimated her age at perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Her intelligence he gauged from her speech, her vocabulary, her use of words. She was a clever one he suspected, but just how clever he would suspend judgement until further acquaintance.

As they approached the castle, he noted that the gates lay open, there were no guards or retainers to be seen. There was some activity in the inner courtyard, but overall, it presented a tranquil scene. It was only when they passed through the open gates that an attractive woman, who looked to be in her thirties, a servant of some sort hurriedly came to meet them.

'Lady Caroline, your mother is asking for you, please make yourself respectable and attend her as soon as possible,' she said. Caroline turned to him.

'I thank you for keeping me safe sir,' she smiled, inclining her head a little in acknowledgement, 'perhaps we shall meet again,' and with that she hurried through the main entrance of the inner castle. The servant turned to Malcolm.

'How may I help you sir?' she enquired, looking him up and down, trying to gauge his social standing.

'I have business with the Laird, but it seems I have chosen my time badly,' he said. 'I have heard that he has business elsewhere at the moment and is not at home.' Business elsewhere, was a polite way of saying that he was out, armed, and dangerous and imposing his will on some hapless neighbour by force of arms. Just then a groom came and took the horse away, and satisfied that she was being cared for, fed and watered he relinquished his hold on the reins.

'Indeed sir, he is elsewhere as you have said, but is expected home very soon, in the next day or two perhaps. I shall inform her ladyship that you are here. In the meantime, would you care for some refreshments, something to drink? It is a warm day, have you come far?' He explained that he had stayed overnight in a village a good few miles away, so not too far to travel this morning. She nodded as she listened to his reply and invited him into the castle, leading him to a room on the ground floor.

'Wait here sir, and I shall inform my lady of your arrival,' and she turned and left him, leaving the door open. He sat down and waited, his mind going back to Mairi as he daydreamed of the previous evening's encounter, his mood was relaxed.

He was broken out of his daydream, by the sound of clacking heels outside in the hallway and barely had time to recover his composure, standing up hastily, preparing himself to meet, the lady of the house. She swept into the room, flanked by two female attendants, and came to a halt no more than three feet from him. She looked at him, he looked at her, nothing was said.

His first reaction was surprise, which he hid by the simple expedient of sweeping his hat off and bowing. She was younger than he expected, given that her daughter lady Caroline was a fully grown young woman. She looked to be in her thirties, but quickly re-assessing he thought perhaps early forties at the most, but whatever her age, she was a fine-looking woman.

'You have something for me?' she said curtly.

'I have business with your husband m'lady, but I hear he is far from home. I have a dispatch for him. I am authorised to pass it to you if he is not available or is indisposed,' he said.

'Who are you sir? Who is this dispatch from?' she demanded. He looked at her, then looked at one attendant, then the other. The lady's eyebrows lifted, she understood, and turned to the two women.

'You may leave us,' she said, giving them a wave of dismissal, 'and close the door as you leave.' She immediately understood this business was not for prying ears, and servant's kitchen gossip.

'I am Malcolm of Aardfar, newly come from Rome,' he announced, introducing himself, bowing a little less deeply this time. He retrieved a package from his satchel, unwrapped the outer protective cloth, and handed her the cream-coloured inner package, with red wax seal on it. 'From the Cardinal's own hand,' he explained. She looked at him, then looked at the seal, her eyes opening a little wider with recognition at the embossed seal.

'Indeed, do you know if he is expecting a reply?' she asked, adding, 'which I presume you would take back to him?' He nodded.

'Yes, m'lady, although I have no knowledge of the contents of his letter, but I am at your service until you decide whether a reply is necessary. If you would be so kind as to avail me of your hospitality until such times as the matter becomes clearer.' She nodded.

'Of course you must stay, I will have the housekeeper prepare a room for you immediately,' she decided.

'I need nothing grand m'lady, just somewhere to lay my head at night,' he stated. 'I am happy to dine with the servants and be no burden or imposition to your household.' She looked at him, a hint of amusement on her lovely face.

'Nonsense sir, you are the Cardinals emissary, and as such you shall be an honoured guest at our table,' she informed him. 'We are isolated here and have few visitors, I'm sure your company may well be entertaining and enlightening, in the meantime the housekeeper, Mrs McDonald will see to your needs,' and with that she turned and swept out of the room as she had entered. She left the door open, and he sat down again.

A few minutes later the same servant who had taken charge when he first arrived at the castle knocked on the open door to get his attention.

'I am Mrs McDonald sir, the housekeeper,' she said, introducing herself. 'I am instructed to give you a room, and see to your needs,' she announced, a faint but friendly smile on her face. He couldn't help but smile in return, thinking she could see to his needs very well, but probably not in the way she was thinking.

'Lead on then Mrs McDonald,' he replied, and followed her out into the main hallway, then through a further door into an even grander hall, where a grand staircase led to the upper levels of the castle.

'I must say Mrs McDonald that I am much impressed by the interior of the castle,' he declared. 'It's not the usual cramped rooms and ancient, winding, defensive tower stairs I was expecting.'

'The old Laird had it rebuilt between 1715 and 1720 sir. He added this new part to make it more like a comfortable home rather than the defensive, functional castle it once was,' she explained. 'He travelled widely in foreign parts I believe, France, Italy, and such like, long before my time, and came home with these new ideas he saw while there.'

At the top of the staircase, she turned left and led him along a corridor with doors on either side. Stopping outside the second door on the left, she selected a key from the bunch of keys hanging at her waist and unlocked the door, pushing it open and standing aside to allow him to enter, which he did.

It was a spacious, open room, dominated by a four-poster bed, a large wardrobe for clothes, a chest of drawers, and two comfortable looking armchairs at either side of the imposing marble fireplace.

Mrs McDonald, or Jean as she was known to her friends and family was suddenly conscious that she was here, alone in a bedroom with a man she did not even know. He was speaking now and she looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. He was a handsome devil she was thinking to herself, a fine figure of a man, and for the first time in years she felt a stirring within herself.

'Yes, this is very suitable Mrs McDonald,' he said, and sitting on the edge of the bed, as if testing it for comfort, he looked directly into her eyes for the first time, and she returned his gaze, looking into his dark eyes which seemed to sink into her soul. She felt something strange inside, she really should look away she told herself, but she didn't, couldn't, surprising herself by how bold she was. She felt a thrill of excitement pass through her, legs suddenly weak, and she felt herself trembling, a tightness in her chest and a heat between her legs, a strange insistent heat, a pulse, down there. She was confused, desperately trying to look away, but it was as if her will was being sucked out of her.

'Are you alright Mrs McDonald?' he asked her, knowing full well what was happening to her and she nodded. 'You look a little flushed, perhaps you should come and sit down,' he suggested patting the bedcover beside him. She nodded again, and unthinkingly did as he suggested, sitting close beside him and not quite understanding why she did it.

'You really are a very handsome woman Mrs McDonald,' he told her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat, trying to breathe more easily, but everything seemed wrong, out of control, she felt out of control. She felt herself smiling at his words. Nobody had said such things to her for such a long time, not since her late husband passed away years before, and now this man, this stranger's words were exciting her more than she could understand. He reached up with his right hand and caressed her left cheek feeling the softness of her skin, and instead of pulling away as she knew she should have, she leaned into his touch and sighed, a deep contented sigh as if welcoming his caress.

'Such lovely soft skin,' he murmured in her ear, his hand sliding down over her cheek, onto her neck, lingering a moment, making her shiver with excitement. Slipping lower down under the hem of her bodice onto the soft skin of her breast, fondling her breast, squeezing her nipple gently. She moaned at the pleasure of his touch, and then he leaned forward, crossing the few inches between his face and hers and kissed her.

Despite her shock, and the insistent, nagging thought that this was somehow wrong, she felt her insides melt as his lips caressed hers, and then she kissed him back, returning his kisses with equal fervour. She seemed to lose time as their kissing continued, lost in a haze of bliss. Feeling his hand under her skirt, on her bare legs, jolted her out of her dreamlike state.

'Please sir, wait... wait please,' she begged. 'I mustn't... I can't let you... can't... let you... do this.... Please... have a care sir... for my reputation.' Her legs, despite her protests felt incredibly weak, and as his hand slipped inevitably higher, try as she might she was overcome by a strange, debilitating lethargy and couldn't close her legs fast enough to lock him out. His hand found her opening, soft, warm, and wet, so wet that she presented no obstacle at all. His fingers slipped unhindered through her pubic hair and pussy lips, sinking deep inside her sex.

'Oh my god... oh my god,' she moaned as her hips instinctively flexed her cunt harder against his invading fingers betraying her last shreds of common sense. 'Please sir,' she whispered, a last plea, but the feelings deep inside her pussy, radiating out through her body and brain were too powerful, robbing her of any further resistance, and she opened her legs helplessly welcoming his probing touch.

Although a widow, and despite her few short years of marriage, Jean had never felt or experienced anything like the feelings and emotions that were wracking her fine body now. She was still comparatively young, and although in her mind she had shut down the possibility of another husband and sexual fulfilment years before, putting it firmly to the back of her mind, her body was now proving to be needy and responsive. She had never known the depth of sensations that this man was awakening within her.

Through the mist of pleasure, she was dimly aware of him poised above her, between her open legs, smiling down at her, and then she felt it. A delicious, strength sapping stretching of her sex, something pushing, slipping effortlessly inside her. Far from being distressed she welcomed it, wanted it more than anything she'd ever wanted before, until at last she felt an unaccustomed but satisfying fulness within her.

Malcom once again felt that powerful, euphoric feeling of triumph as her sex opened before his cock, and he felt himself sliding unopposed into the warm, slippery, depths of her tight hole. Could there be a better feeling, he thought than the sensation of a woman's warm and wet sheath enclosing a man's cock in its loving embrace. If there was even one, he had yet to experience it. This Mrs McDonald, the housekeeper, was no exception. She felt sublime as her vaginal muscles gripped and clenched around his considerable length and girth. He pulled back slightly then slid back home, making her moan quietly.

He felt her legs come up, wrapping themselves around his body, knowing she was fully engaged now as he began to fuck her, slowly and methodically, wringing every last bit of sensation out of her pussy. Not just for his own enjoyment, but for hers too. He was no selfish lover, this was for her, even more than it was for himself in his own mind. First and foremost, he wanted her to experience the full range of pleasure possible from their union. Whispering endearments in her ears, telling her she was beautiful, how wonderful she felt, all adding to her enjoyment and excitement, building her higher and higher.

Jean was lost in her own world, a feeling like no other she had ever felt before, and all emanating from between her legs. Each thrust of his cock gave her more mind sapping pleasure, she could hear herself making little whimpering and mewling sounds, almost helpless to form words, so strong were the pleasures growing ever stronger in her core.

She wanted more, desperate for... for something, she didn't know what, but she instinctively reacted to the repeated filling and emptying of her womanly hole, thrusting herself against his manhood, the feeling growing stronger with every sweet invasion and retreat. She thrust herself faster, desperately seeking it, faster still, feeling him pumping into her opening, his hard power bringing her closer, pushing her over the edge, and then a glorious wave of utmost pleasure lifted her, then higher still.

The ever-building pressure, the ultimate pleasure released within her in wave after wave. She cried out in wonder, again, again, and yet again and then she was over the peak, sliding slowly and pleasurably back down as the tremors of ecstasy slowly faded. Not exactly gone, but leaving her with a feeling of euphoria, a strange happiness, a sense of accomplishment.

So many feelings and emotions were crowding into her consciousness, leaving her slightly confused, but above all... happy. He kissed her again, his cock slipping from her, leaving her with a sense of loss, and then it no longer mattered as he took her in his arms and just held her for long moments. She felt safe, content to lie there with him, never wanting this feeling to end, but end it must she realised as reality intruded eventually.

'Let me up please sir,' she said quietly. 'I will be missed, and I have much work to do. I can stay no longer,' and she raised herself, staggering a little as she stood, her legs still feeling remarkably weak, but soon under control again. Her skirt fell from around her waist back to her ankles again, and apart from her white linen cap being slightly askew, and a flush of excitement on her cheeks, nobody would know she had just been fucked to levels of sexual pleasure she had never felt before.

He stood up and took her in his arms once more, she felt his member, still stiff, hard as could be, and took it in her hand feeling along his length.

'I'm sorry sir, I must leave you this... this way,' she said, sounding regretful as she stroked his hardness.

'Never worry Mrs McDonald,' he assured her quietly, 'as long as you are happy, are you happy?' She nodded, looking up at him from under her long eyelashes.

'I am sir,' she confirmed, a small, embarrassed smile on her face 'never happier. I have never felt such things before, never,' she repeated quietly. 'My name is Jean sir,' she said shyly, her natural modesty reasserting itself. 'There's no need to call me Mrs McDonald when we're together after... well.... after this,' and she looked at the bed where she had recently lain, half naked, legs open enjoying and being enjoyed. He kissed her once more, a light affectionate kiss and she turned and walked to the door, pausing only to straighten her cap in the mirror. She opened the door, looked back, smiled at him, and then she was gone.

He watched her leave knowing she would be back at the first possible opportunity. He lay back down on the bed telling himself that he needed a rest. After all, he had spent half the night awake and fucking the lovely Mairi, and he had just fucked Mrs McDonald... Jean, the housekeeper. There were plenty of other holes to be filled in this castle he thought, amused by his own crudity, and although Jean was a lovely woman, and he would continue to fuck and enjoy her whenever the chance arose, he had loftier ambitions.

Lady Elizabeth might, on the face of it, be on a much higher social strata than he could ever hope to aspire to, but he had learned many years before that when a needy cunt wanted a hard cock, class barriers often became very fluid no matter how noble, or wealthy. Given his, 'gift,' virtually no woman was safe if he set his sights on her, and that's what he had come here to do. Once she looked into his eyes and held his gaze, she was his, and he intended to make her his tonight. There seemed no point in waiting any longer, after all, her husband may well be home tomorrow, and the opportunity lost. While he was thinking these pleasant thoughts he slowly drifted off to sleep.

He woke bit by bit, and then suddenly with a start as he realised someone was fondling his cock. He opened his eyes and saw Mrs McDonald, smiling down at him. He laughed.

'Mrs McDonald,' he said with a sigh of relief, but she corrected him.

'Jean,' she insisted, smiling. He watched her gently fondling bring him to full hardness. She let go and stepped back from the bed.

Her ladyship has sent me,' she began, 'to inform you that she desires your company at the supper table.'

'When? Now?' he asked and she confirmed that was what was required. 'Her ladyship expects everyone to attend on her as soon as possible. It would be prudent to do as she expects sir,' she advised.

'And is there anything else her ladyship may desire?' he said, teasing her. She looked at his stiff cock, and reaching for it held it for just a moment.

'I'm sure her ladyship may get a great deal of satisfaction if this this was her object of desire,' she joked. She let go allowing him to get dressed as quickly as possible.

'What my lady wants, my lady usually gets,' she informed him. 'If perchance she desires you, it would be best to let her think you are equally enthusiastic.'

'You would not be jealous, my bonnie Jean?' he asked her. She shook her head.

'I would prefer it otherwise, but I am just a servant. She is a fine lady, and you are a gentleman of rank. I have no right to be jealous,' she finished.

'Would you still share my bed in my remaining time here?' he asked her. She thought about it for a moment, taking her time as he finished washing and dressing.

'Yes,' she said, her voice almost a whisper. 'I want to feel like that again, it... it was like nothing I'd ever felt before,' and she blushed at her own honesty, her boldness. He came closer and took her in his arms, kissing her again.

'Then you shall Jean, you shall lie in my arms and bed as often as we may contrive it,' she smiled. 'Now, lead me to her ladyship's supper table.' She led him out of the room and downstairs to where her ladyship awaited his company.

'Since there are only three to supper tonight, her lady ship has ordered it served in the library,' Jean informed him. 'It will be a more comfortable and intimate setting,' and she stopped in front of a dark oak door, knocked lightly and entered.

'Your guest my lady' she announced and stepped back as her ladyship looked up and smiled at Malcolm, who smiled in return.

'Ah, there you are Aardfar,' she acknowledged. He smiled at her again and inclined his head in what passed for an acknowledgement of her rank, and at Lady Caroline too who was also present. 'Please be seated, here at my right side where we may converse at ease,' she said and he sat where she directed.

'Perfect,' he thought, she was no more than two feet away from him, more than close enough to exert the force of his personality upon her. He turned towards her and smiled at her again.

'Please m'lady,' he said, 'call me Malcolm if you will. I fear "Aardfar," is rather too formal.' She nodded and smiled again. She was much taken with this Malcolm of Aardfar, she decided, and was in fact a little disturbed by his closeness. Her heart was beating faster than normal, and she found herself smiling at him more than was decent for a married lady.

'Very well, then you must call me Elizabeth,' she replied. Malcolm was rather taken aback at the informality of her offer.

'M'lady, you do me far too much honour,' he said and bowed his head to her again, 'but if that is your wish I accept. Indeed, I am most grateful.' As she looked into his eyes, she felt a stirring, a little something she hadn't felt for quite some time. He was a handsome fellow, and for someone who had no wealth, no land, and little breeding, she found him strangely intriguing.

'You may call me Caroline if you wish... Malcolm,' said Lady Caroline from across the table, smiling at him. Malcolm smiled at her but allowed himself only a glance into her eyes. He couldn't afford to have this young woman fall under his spell. Her mother was his target, his priority.

The table Malcolm noted was well provided with salmon, venison, and various side dishes. They ate and spoke as they dined, all making for a very pleasant meal. When the last course was done, two servants cleared away the used dishes, and as Malcolm watched a silver bowl containing water was placed before Lady Elizabeth. Their glasses were filled with claret and Lady Elizabeth held her glass aloft.

'A toast,' she announced, 'to the king,' and as she said it, she passed the glass symbolically over the bowl of water. Malcolm was well aware of the significance of what she did. She was proposing a toast to the king, 'over the water,' the exiled King James in France, rather than the Hanoverian King George in London. It could be seen as an act of treason, punishable by death, but she knew she was amongst friends here with no danger of any repercussions.

'To the king,' Malcom and Lady Caroline intoned together, drinking their claret. After a moment or two Elizabeth suggested they rise from the table and sit at the more comfortable armchairs beside the fireplace. Malcom immediately rose and positioned himself behind Elizabeth's chair, and as she rose, he pulled it back allowing her an easier exit from the table. She thanked him, and he hurriedly did the same for Caroline who also thanked him most graciously. With both ladies seated on a comfortable looking couch Malcolm sat opposite them on an armchair.

'I believe you are widely travelled Malcolm,' Elizabeth said, 'will you regale us with some stories of your travels, of the different countries you have visited. Perhaps if you have a keen eye, you will inform us of the latest lady's fashion in these countries.' He laughed.

'I can tell you of these countries, France, Italy, the great cities, Paris and Rome, the Vatican, London, and even Spain, but I know little of lady's dresses.' They seemed a little disappointed, but Malcolm was a natural raconteur and soon had them spellbound with his stories of the great European cities he had visited, and the people he had known there. He seemed to have an endless fund of funny stories and soon had them laughing at the strangeness of the foreign cities and their inhabitants.

After an hour or so of this, Lady Caroline pleaded tiredness and withdrew for the night leaving Malcolm with Elizabeth.

'Would you care to play a hand or two of cards Malcolm?' Elizabeth asked, for the night was still comparatively young, and card games were a popular way of passing the time. When he agreed, she rang a small brass bell to summon a servant who was asked to set up the card table with two opposing chairs and bring the cards.

'What stakes shall we play for?' Elizabeth asked, as they sat down opposite each other, for it was common to play for money at the card table. As she said it, she looked up into his dark eyes. He has beautiful eyes, she thought, and the nameless stirring she had felt a little earlier grew more powerful, and now she knew, now she had a name for it. She tried to ignore it, but it was past the ignoring stage now

'Stakes?' Malcolm asked. 'I have little or no money Lady Elizabeth. I cannot afford to lose at cards.'

'What shall we play then?' she asked, once again losing herself momentarily in his eyes, and she closed her own for a moment trying to shake off this thing she was feeling.

'Piquet?' he suggested. 'All the other common card games are for four people or more, and we are but two, so Piquet would be most suitable.' Opening her eyes again, she agreed and started to deal the cards.

'Forfeits?' she suggested and Malcolm's eyebrows lifted in query. 'Since we have no monetary stakes for added interest, perhaps a game with forfeits may add some amusement,' she suggested.

'Forfeits?' he echoed. 'I fear there is little I could forfeit that would give you any measure of gain m'lady.' She laughed and shook her head.

So be it then,' she smiled, 'then I will be the one to forfeit if I lose, let us play,' and they began to play. Malcolm lost the first game. He hadn't played for a while, but began to concentrate, and this time he was the winner. She looked at him across the table, her heart racing now, butterflies in her stomach and chest,

'You've won, you must ask of me a forfeit Malcolm,' she urged, laying down her losing hand, and looking at him across the table. He looked into her eyes, and her heart lurched. He put down his cards too, the game forgotten. They sat for quite some time gazing at each other, the atmosphere tense. He noticed her hands were trembling, and she noticed he was studying her face, her eyes, her mouth, and it was her mouth he kept returning to. She knew what he was going to say before he said it.

He stood up and walked round to her side of the table and taking his courage and both her hands in his, he helped her to her feet. He could feel her trembling now, hear her breathing, out of control and knew what it signified.

'What shall my forfeit be then?' she asked, her voice husky with her arousal.

'Would my lady permit a kiss perhaps?' he said quietly trying not to break the spell. She nodded her head, very slightly.

'Gladly,' she whispered, and he moved closer, taking her in his arms and she melted into his embrace.

'Perhaps if we sat back on the couch again, we may take this to a more comfortable conclusion,' he said, and all she could do was nod in agreement. They sat on the couch, side by side, and Malcolm took her in his arms again. She came willingly, no resistance, and Malcolm caressed her beautiful face with his right hand and let his lips gently touch her gorgeous mouth. She moaned, somewhere deep down in her throat as he eased her lips apart and kissed her deeply and passionately.

Their kiss went on for some time leaving her breathless, wanting more when their lips parted. She could feel a pulse of desire, stronger than any she had ever known, down there at her centre, and was aware of a wetness she hadn't felt for a long while oozing from between her legs.

She was aware that Malcolm was somehow different from other men, he had an aura about him, something that overwhelmed her deeply, physically, on a more primitive sexual level. She could no more think of resisting him than ceasing to eat or drink. She knew she wanted him inside her sex, so when he stopped and lifted her dress and petticoats, she surprised herself even more by helping him. She pulled the voluminous folds and layers of fabric higher still, exposing herself like some harlot as she thought of it, yet desperate to be touched and seen by him.

He took his time, lightly caressing the insides of her long, slim thighs. She felt every subtle touch and caress, aware that he was kindling a flame of need so powerful in her exposed quim that all she could think of was the throb of her sex. She could smell herself, the primitive musk that oozed from her cunt, an aroma that somehow spoke of humidity and wetness permeating the air.

'Oh, please sir,' she whimpered desperate now in her need, but Malcolm was kneeling on the floor, between her outspread knees, studying her sex as if he had never seen a woman there before. He caressed her thighs, as close to her centre as it was possible to be without touching what she was desperate for him to touch, directing every shred of her attention and expectations to her pussy. Even in the diminished, subtle light from the candles and the warm glowing light of the fire she knew everything she had was clearly exposed to his gaze.

'Mmm, there is much dew in my lady's valley,' he remarked, his face drawing closer, and closer still, 'and such a beautiful valley I have never seen before.' She thought she would die of shame when she realised he was sniffing her intimate aroma, and yet she felt herself lift her hips, helplessly offering herself to him, and then he did something she had never dreamed of in her wildest dreams, he kissed and licked her cunt.

Horrified at his audacity, yet she gave herself up to the exquisite pleasure she felt as his tongue delved between her generous nether lips before sweeping higher finding her clitoris. The pleasure was all too much, and she closed her eyes feeling wave after wave of ecstasy erupt from her sex. It swept through her body, over and over like an uncontrolled fire as her overwrought senses responded in the most natural way.

Gradually the firestorm of pleasure between her legs subsided, and she opened her eyes looking down on his handsome smiling face.

'You are a wicked young man,' she said quietly and breathlessly, 'and have used me most shamelessly sir.' She laughed, and then, 'We cannot continue here, servants have ears, and we may be discovered. Let us take this to the privacy of my bedroom if you wish it so.' It was almost a question which he quickly answered.

'A wise move my lady,' he agreed, not wishing to blacken her reputation or fuel any servant's gossip. They had been quite daring enough for one evening already, and now with the first flames of their passion dampened they could afford to be a little more discrete.

Malcolm left her there to make arrangements with the servants and made his way upstairs to his bedroom. Lady Elizabeth rang her little brass bell to summon a servant and announced that she was ready to retire for the evening. She made her way upstairs, followed by her personal maid who helped her disrobe and get ready for bed.

'Shall I extinguish the candles m'lady?' her maid asked and was told no. Elizabeth would read for a little while before sleeping she was told, and so the maid withdrew, the end of a long, tiring day for her, grateful that she could now retire to bed as well.

Malcolm, watching unseen from the safety of the darkened corridor of the left wing looked along towards the opposite corridor at the right wing of the house. He had been told earlier that the family occupied the right wing and placed himself so he could see which door the servant came from. Eventually he saw her leave and disappear down the back stairway to the servant's quarters.

He waited a few more moment to let things settle, then made his way quietly to the appropriate bedroom and quietly opened the door without knocking. He stepped inside and locked the door behind him, seeing her sitting up in bed in the candlelight. She looked lovely, her long fair hair now settled about her shoulders. She smiled, and pulled back the bedcovers as he approached, inviting him into her bed. He smiled at her too as he undressed, and within seconds stood naked before her.

'Oh, my sir your, "little soldier," is standing most stiffly to attention, paying me great honour, and indeed has grown into a mighty warrior,' she laughed, as she pulled her nightgown over her head exposing her breasts to his delighted gaze.

'Come sir, join me in bed' she said, obviously aroused once more, and Malcolm needed no other encouragement.

Under the covers she came into his arms, her body all soft, naked skin, and they kissed and caressed, his hand stroking her breasts for the first time. They had looked beautiful, perfect, in the candlelight and now they felt as good as they had looked. Her nipples were hard and erect, and she moaned softly as his fingers and lips latched on to them squeezing and sucking, his teeth gently nibbling on the sensitive little erections.

Her hand immediately caught and stroked the length of his cock, a gentle featherlight touch, stroking, growing firmer as she became more excited. She relinquished her hold a moment or so later, turning over on her back and spreading her legs.

'I am yours Malcolm, I am ready,' she whispered, and he moved over between those long legs of hers, poised just above her, his cock just making contact with her opening.

'It seems my lady is surrendering the gates of her citadel to my little soldier,' he joked using her own words of just a few moments before. They both laughed.

'Indeed, they are wide open sir,' she whispered, 'you may enter and ravage me at your will,' and reaching down she rubbed him between her pussy lips and pushed herself up as he lowered himself down. A few strokes saw him slide as far as possible until he was completely seated, his whole length filling her passage of greatest pleasure.

'Oh, my god Malcolm,' she gasped as her hips began to move hungrily, 'your mighty battering ram is most welcome.

Malcolm could hardly believe his great good fortune, with his cock deeply embedded in the hot, wet, cunt of such a great lady as Elizabeth. To all intents and purposes, although highly educated, fluent in Greek, Latin, French, and Italian, polite and well-mannered in all the social graces of the times, he was still nothing more than a 'commoner,' he had no aristocratic pedigree whatsoever.

Yet, here he was, his cock up to the hilt in her brimming, wet, overflowing cunt as she thrust herself eagerly onto his cock. He remembered, as if he needed reminding, that a wet hole makes no social distinctions when a hard cock is at work between her legs.

He felt her speeding up a little as she began to lose even more control, and he sped up too, matching her pace, and then he took control, faster still, fucking her relentlessly, reaming her soft, wet pussy, bringing her almost forgotten pleasures, growing stronger with every stroke, feeling her pussy cling to his length, sucking and closing around him on the outstroke, and giving way, caressing him tightly with each advance.

She was gasping and moaning, her legs wrapped around him, pulling him tighter, thrusting herself more frantically now as she felt the first tremulous warnings of her orgasm.

'Oh, my god... 'tis wonderous...' she whimpered as he began to fuck her a little harder. It was almost there... almost there, and then like a river in flood she felt it. The spasm of pleasure burning the nerve endings between her legs, the release of pressure, wracking her body again and again, powerful, unlike any other pleasure, again and yet again, making her a mindless slave to his cock and her own cunt.

She heard him groan and a flood of warmth, deep inside her made her return to full action again as she tried to give him back some of the pleasure he had already given her. Fucking his cock until she felt him soften and knew he was done. Gradually her movements slowed down and quietly faded, leaving a happy, smouldering glow between her legs.

He held her in his arms, as they recovered from their happy exertions, quieter now. She felt some of his seed slowly leaking from her but ignored it.

'I hope you don't think too badly of me Malcolm?' she whispered as she snuggled against his chest.

'Never Elizabeth,' he reassured her, 'you are a wonderful woman, and I count myself honoured beyond anything I've ever known to be lying here in your arms, in your bed.'

'You don't think I'm a dirty whore... a... a... wanton strumpet for cuckolding my husband, and breaking my wedding vows then?' she asked quietly.

'Sometimes a woman must take her pleasures where she can,' he said. 'Be assured, I have no bad thoughts of you whatsoever. You are a treasure, to be coddled and cosseted, not shamed or reviled.' Hearing his words and taking comfort from them, she held him just that bit tighter.

'Thank you,' she whispered. 'You have taught me much this evening,' she said.

'How so, Elizabeth?' he asked, adding, 'you are a married woman. I would have thought I had nothing to teach you about the art of love.' He felt her shake her head in the semi darkness of the room.

'A woman is at the mercy of her husband when it comes to marital relations,' she confided. 'Quite often he will take his pleasure and leave the woman wanting... unfulfilled. They have little thought of how their wives feel, as long as the wife performs her duty and satisfies her husband.'

'I could not do that Elizabeth,' he commiserated, 'they must be unthinking brutes and fools, for there is no greater pleasure for me than to make my lover happy and satisfied.' She sat up, propping herself on one elbow and looked down on him smiling.

'You are the rare exception Malcolm,' she replied softly, 'believe me. When you kissed me... down there,' and she sounded embarrassed, 'I thought, what kind of vile, depraved creature would do such a thing... I had never even heard of such a thing, far less experienced it.' Malcolm laughed, a quiet little laugh.

'I quickly learned it was born of love, a tender, loving gesture, almost a worship of my sex,' she admitted, her voice breaking with emotion. 'I have no words to describe how wonderful it felt, and how beautiful it made me feel that you were willing to do that for me, to show me that level of affection.' She lay down again and came into his arms once more.

'Have you always made love in the same way?' he asked her, 'lying on your back.'

'Yes,' she said, and he felt her body stiffen with anticipation as she gave him her full attention. 'Is there some other way... Malcom,' she pleaded... tell me... please, tell me?' He nodded.

'Indeed, there is my love,' he told her, 'would you like me to show you another way?'

'Will it feel as good as your mouth on my quim?' she asked. He kissed her.

'Perhaps, but I can assure you it will certainly be different.' He looked under the bedcovers observing her hand fondling his manhood and smiled. 'You have by your manipulations succeeded in making my member hard again,' he said happily, 'so I judge now is the time to put it to the test.'

'Yes... oh my god... yes Malcolm, you can be my tutor, and I shall be your most eager student,' she said enthusiastically.

Malcolm slipped out of bed, and standing by the edge invited her to come to him, which she did with some alacrity, and standing naked on the floor beside him she came into his arms. He kissed her and fingered her pussy a little, before turning her around in his arms feeling her marvellous tits from behind making her gasp with delight, and then he pushed her forward. She felt his cock between her arse cheeks and pushed back, not realising it was an inadvertent precursor on her part to what was about to happen.

'Now Elizabeth, do as I ask, and you shall soon learn something new and wonderful.' She looked back over her shoulder at him, smiled and nodded, complete trust in her eyes. 'Kneel on the edge of the bed,' he instructed, and one after the other she lifted her knees, and now with her kneeling, he felt her breasts and kissed her neck and shoulders making her shiver.

'Bend over Elizabeth,' he whispered in her ear with one hand on her stomach and the other between her shoulder blades pushing, she did as he asked until she was on all fours. 'All the way down now my love until you head is resting on your forearms,' and once again, she compliantly did as he asked.

'Oh, my lord, this feels rather strange... and rather depraved,' she laughed a little uncertainly until she felt his fingers split her pussy lips open and gently rub her clitoris. She pushed back, eager for more, and then he replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock, rubbing his swollen manhood up and down between her gaping cunt lips. His knob was soon glittering with her secretions and then he pushed his cock in between her love lips. They stretched, her pussy clinging to his cock, giving way before the pressure, opening wetly, and she felt him enter her, back and forth, two, three times, feeling him sink inside her until he was firmly embedded to the hilt in her depths.

'Oooh... Malcolm,' she shuddered, 'that feels as if... oh my god... as if you are... even deeper than... before,' she moaned and then he began to move within her, fucking her gently, his cock slipping back and forth so easily in her abundant wetness. His hands were everywhere it seemed to her, as he caressed and stroked her bottom, her flanks, her back, even under her body to her breasts, all adding untold little exciting additions to her sensory overload.

'Oh... dear god sir,' she groaned under her breath, 'are you... are you sure... the devil did not... send you... to corrupt me?' she laughed, then moaned some more as her nerve endings sparked in response to his cock rifling her hole.

'I'm sure,' he answered her, 'this is an act of love... not corruption... I think you understand that now... do you not my lady?' She nodded and groaned out her response.

'Indeed sir, how could something this good... this good... be wrong?' It was the last intelligible words she said for quite some time as the rising pleasures interrupted her thoughts on the most basic, primitive level.

She pushed back hard against his intruding cock as he fucked her, with her actively fucking him too, and then taking a handful of the bedcovers, she crammed it against her mouth to muffle the sounds of her rising ecstasy. Her orgasm flowed through her, emanating from between her legs in powerful, mind searing waves of pleasure, again and again, and then again. So powerful, she stopped fucking him for a moment, just feeling his cock plunging over and over, receiving his member helplessly as she knelt there, open legged, her juices trickling down the inside of her thighs.

As the feelings seemed to wane, she frantically began to push back again desperate for this feeling to never end, but gradually and inevitably, the pulses of pleasure receded like the tide going out until she knew it was over. He held onto her hips, her pelvic bones, allowing her no escape, but not moving within her now, just immersed and filling her well satisfied hole.

He let her go a few moments later, and she slipped of the end of his stiff cock, and collapsed face down on the bed. He took a look, a moment to study her fine slim body, the shape of her arse, her legs, still wide apart, and her weeping sex peeking and glittering through her pubic hair. He rejoiced in his mind; she was proving to be a great lover. He knew this night may be the only night they ever had and he was determined to leave her with unforgettable memories.

He helped her crawl up the bed and then slipped back into bed with her. Once more she came into his arms, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

'My god Malcolm,' she eventually said, her voice almost a whisper. 'I know you haven't been sent by the devil, that was only a jest, but I am under no illusion, you have most certainly corrupted me.' She kissed him. 'How can I go back to the arms of my husband knowing he is but a pale shadow of the lover you are? How can I get him to do these wonderful things to me... with me, without him knowing there has been another man between his wife's legs?' Malcolm had no reply to these questions for he knew he would soon be leaving here when her husband returned, but for now his cock was still hard, and she was still soft and warm beside him, so he turned to her, kissed her and felt her breasts and nipples again.

'Mmm,' she moaned, 'I love you touching me... like that... and I loved doing it like that. It was so different. I felt like I was losing myself and it felt good to let go,' she laughed. 'I no longer felt like a lady of the realm, I felt like a helpless, rutting, bitch in heat, and I loved it,' she confessed.

'Perhaps you felt like that because we were doing it like the "beasts of the field," like a stallion and mare, or a dog and bitch,' he explained. 'It is the most natural way to do it, but it is just another way of pleasuring each other as you have found.' As he spoke, her hand had inevitably reached down and began fondling his cock again.

'Tell me Elizabeth,' he began, 'are you a horsewoman, do you ride?' and he felt her nod.

'Yes, I occasionally ride out to take the air, especially in the summertime when the weather is pleasant,' she replied. In response he pulled back the bedcovers and watched her elegant hand stroke his cock.

'You want my cock again,' he said, and she nodded eagerly. 'Then raise yourself my lady and mount your stallion. I shall take you for a ride you will not soon forget,' he promised. She raised herself, getting to her knees, her eyes open wide looking at him in wonder.

'What now? What would you have me do sir?' she asked, although she had some inkling, a wonderful suspicion which he confirmed immediately.

'Kneel astride me like you would ride a horse,' and she immediately did as he instructed. 'Then hold my cock and introduce it into your quim. Lower yourself onto my cock as best you may, and you can ride me over the hills and far away.'

Elizabeth lifted one leg over his body, aware that she was displaying herself to him again, giving herself a little thrill at the wickedness of it all. Now she was astride him, she reached down and took his cock in her hand and shuffled forward a little bit until he was right underneath her. She looked down and rubbed his swollen member against herself. It felt wonderful and then as she held it, she let herself sink a bit lower and felt him split her lips apart and slide just inside her sex.

'Oh my god... what depravity now sir?' she gulped, yet laughing with delight as she felt his cock slip and slide deeper, filling her until she reached bottom where her pussy hair and his intermingled.

'There now Lady Elizabeth,' he announced, 'you have another position to add to your knowledge.' He grinned up at her as she settled herself, adjusting her position slightly to find the best most comfortable one.

'Oh my god... so simple... so easy... why did I never think of this before?' she smiled down on him. 'I feel full to bursting,' she gasped, lifting herself a little, then down again impaling her beautiful cunt on his hardness.

'Lean forward, place your hand here on my shoulder bones,' and once again she did as he suggested. 'Now you can ride me, and you m'lady are in charge of how fast or slow you ride, you can do it as hard or as gently as you wish, use me for your own pleasure. Do not think of me, think only of what is between your legs and deep inside your quim, take your pleasure from my member, do not wait for me to give it to you my lady,' he encouraged her, and so she began to move above him.

Slowly at first, tentatively, exploring the sensations in her pussy. This was all new to her, and she was a little self-conscious watching him watching her, until he reached up and cupped her breasts, squeezing and massaging them, pulling on her nipples in a milking motion, varying the pressure. She liked it when he did it hard, almost painfully.

'Oh yes sir, a little harder if you please,' she implored him, knowing herself more fully now, gaining confidence with every thrust of her hips. She felt so powerful, fucking like this, using his cock for her pleasure, taking that pleasure into herself, for herself, using his cock as he had used her cunt.

'Oh, my sweet lady,' he groaned, 'you are giving us both such joy.' His words struck home, exciting her even more, and then he began to thrust up in the soft, wet, morass between her legs and it was enough to tip her over that high precipice of pleasure, and she came. Feeling it coming, wracking her fine body, once, twice, three times and more, again and again until it felt like everything was pouring up through that sensitive orifice between her legs. It came suddenly and stayed for too short a time, then went slowly, slowly bringing her down, leaving her happy and euphoric.

She collapsed forward, lying on his chest, where he felt her heart throbbing against his skin. He wrapped his arms around her, clasping her tightly, and without pulling out of her he threw himself to one side turning her over completely until she lay beneath him, looking up at him, her eyes wide, and then he began to fuck her again. Her eyelids fluttered and closed.

'Oh, my god,' she breathed as he rammed his cock into her. He worked her pussy methodically, making sure he missed no remote nook or cranny within her, reaming out her feminine delight, piling thrill upon thrill. With her heightened awareness and sensitivity, it wasn't long before she felt that now familiar feeling arising. He was going to make her feel that wonderous pleasure and release again, she thought.

Malcolm was determined that he could make her come one more time tonight. He had held back as long as possible, knowing that coming for a second time always took him ages. He could stay hard while a woman came three or four times, more than long enough to satisfy any woman, but he also knew that if he kept going, he would come again eventually too, and now that, 'second coming,' was almost upon him.

First, lady Elizabeth began to thrust herself harder and faster against his plunging cock and he knew it was a matter of moments before she came.

'Oh, dear god... oh shit... I'm dying,' she moaned, then, 'harder... ride me... fuck me... please... don't stop... oh please god... don't stop.'

Stopping was the last thing on his mind, especially when he felt her cunt clench and ripple, her internal muscles spasming, clamping down on his length, knowing she was coming. She became quite frantic, pushing against him, thrusting herself unashamedly, trying to extract every tremor and quiver of delight from his cock, and then she heard him groan quietly in her ear, and that same warm familiar flood again within her quim. Knowing he was coming too galvanised her to work her hips faster and come even harder, trying feverishly to wring all the pleasure she could from this long night of passion and lovemaking.

When at last it was over and their love making ground to a halt, they both lay there, unmoving. Malcolm still supporting himself with his knees and elbows so and not to crush his lady. She was exhausted, slightly sore, but it was a good soreness, she mused to herself. After a minute or so, with no words spoken or necessary, Malcom pulled out and withdrew what was left of his dwindling hardness, then rolled over to one side dismounting. She came into his arms, with both of them on their sides, looking into each other's eyes, both smiling. They kissed, affectionately rather than passionately, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

'Elizabeth?' he whispered, 'what ails you lass?' She shook her head and smiled through the tears.

'Nothing Malcolm,' she answered honestly. 'I'm so happy, yet so sad, knowing this can never be more than it is this night.' He hugged her tighter still.

'Perhaps, but it has been a glorious night my sweetness, has it not?' he said and she nodded. More tears, more smiles. Her hands came up, one on either side of his face, holding him between her hands, touching him lovingly.

'Just let me look at you, let me commit your face to sweet memory. It will have to last a lifetime, to stay with me for the rest of my life. I will never forget you, never forget this night as long as I live. I wish it were otherwise, but it is not my dear Malcolm,' and she kissed him again, kissing him as if her life depended on it, as if burning the memory, the softness of his lips into her own lips and her soul.

They fell asleep shortly after, both exhausted by their prolonged love making. Malcolm awoke a few hours later, aware of a lightness in the sky. The servents would be up and about, preparing for their day soon, if not already active, he realised and so he slipped out of bed and dressed. Kissing her tenderly on the brow, he left her asleep and opened the bedroom door. He looked out, the house was still in semi-darkness, all was quiet. He closed the door behind him and walked silently back to his own room. Tomorrow was another day.