Tom had let out a soft whistle, low enough to not be heard over the orgasmic cries of the ladies. He immediately began disrobing and Kit knew he was not alone in hoping that the lustful activities would soon extend to them both. He slowly stroked himself as he watched them both reach completion, eyes widening at the hungry and enthusiastic way Violet sucked on Alice’s admittedly delicious pussy.
When he and Tom had made themselves known, the girls had giggled and beckoned them over, rising to their knees. Kit had had his share of whores on the Peninsula, but he had never seen a sight as beautiful as his red-headed wife alongside the blonde Alice, their generous tits bouncing, their skin gleaming in the morning light as they knelt side-by-side on the carpet. He went to stand before Violet and watched her lick all up and down his cock before she took as much of him down as she could manage and began bobbing her head. Tom stood right next to him, his cock slightly longer but not quite as thick. Alice was sucking on him in her customary eager way, twisting her hand on the lower part of his shaft and moaning in enjoyment.
Suddenly Tom let out a “Oh Christ!” and he and Violet turned to see Alice swallow his rod all the way to the hilt, a slight bulge in her throat, her nose buried in the black hairs at the base of his cock. Kit’s own member twitched as Violet popped off of him, using her hand to stroke him as she exclaimed.
“Oh my! Alice, how are you doing that?”
There followed a very amusing interlude where Alice attempted to instruct Violet on the mysteries of how to push past her instinct to gag. Violet attempted it several times, but on the last try came off coughing and gasping. “Darling, don’t hurt yourself!” Kit soothed. “Rome wasn’t conquered in a day, Vi, we can take it slow.”
“‘E’s right, ma’am, I couldn’t do it right away neither,” Alice said, laying a comforting hand on Violet’s back.
Violet pouted and Alice suddenly piped up. “Oh ma’am, I’ve an idea! ‘Ere, try it on Tom’s prick! ‘E’s not quite as thick, it might be easier.” She held out Tom’s member as if it was hers to give out freely and Kit felt a surge of love and lust for his wife when she shifted over without hesitation and stuffed Tom’s cock in her mouth.
“Fuuuuck,” Tom breathed and Violet looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Quite,” said Kit. He knew Tom had fantasized about Violet; during those sessions in Kit’s study when they were meant to be discussing estate business, they had often discussed how they might engage the two girls in a foursome. He watched his friend’s daydream come true as Violet worked Tom’s rigid shaft over with her mouth and tongue, sucking and licking with enthusiasm. Kit stroked himself until Alice came over, batting his hand away.
“Just so, ma’am, nice and easy,” she said, again demonstrating and describing the process, this time on an appreciative Kit.
“Any other ladies needing lessons? I’d be happy to offer mine and Tom’s services any time we’re needed,” Kit joked.
“Oh hush,” said Alice, but just at that moment, Violet made a gurgling sound and Tom slid all the way in, his balls resting against her chin. The feeling of her tight throat squeezing his shaft was obviously too much for him.
“Christ, yes!” he grunted, clenching his jaw as he came, pumping his hot seed down Violet’s working passage. His eyes were locked on hers and Kit was pleased to see the ardent fire returned in her green irises. Kit hoped this meant that Violet was not averse to Tom and Alice joining them in their bedtime activities in the future.
Tom pulled out of Violet’s mouth and staggered to the chaise where he collapsed on the forgotten garments that Alice had laid there. Violet turned to Kit, licking her lips. “Your turn?” she said. “That is, if you don’t mind, Alice.” She turned a questioning look to the maid.
“Oh no, ma’am! You’ll want to try it again, I’m sure!” She graciously made way for her mistress who, to Kit’s intense pleasure, turned out to be a very fast learner.
********
That afternoon, Juliet and Peter were having a picnic. The grounds of Blackburn Cottage were extensive, and on their rides, the pair had found a clearing in the Home Wood to the north of the property that had a small, babbling brook running next to it. Bracken and ferns surrounded the grassy clearing, and the trees gave a dappled, welcoming shade from the hot, July sunshine. It was, in short, the perfect place for a picnic. Peter had been a little disappointed when Juliet slipped out of his bed so early this morning, but he now assumed she had been conferring with the housekeeper, Mrs. Fitch, about the particulars of the picnic.
They had sat down and started unpacking the large wicker hamper that the cook had prepared for them. There were pies and cakes, meats and cheeses, bunches of grapes, a bottle of wine, and a jug of barley water.
“What a spread!” said Peter, rubbing his hands together. He had taken off his coat and was just in his shirt and waistcoat. His long legs extended in front of him, encased in the buckskin breeches that did very little to hide the musculature of his legs. Juliet was in a pale green, sprigged muslin. She had removed her bonnet and was arranging the plates on the blanket. Peter thought perhaps they could play wood sprite and satyr later. He had a very pleasant memory of them cavorting in that very clearing just a few days before, and he was anxious to repeat it.
He was just about to take a healthy bite of a steak and kidney pie when Juliet said, “I hope you don’t mind, Peter, but I invited another guest to our picnic today.” She spoke calmly but he noticed that her hands shook a little.
Setting his pie down, and hiding his disappointment at the impossibility of the very enjoyable interlude he had pictured in the privacy of the clearing, he said, “Ah, yes? Are the Captain and Lady Violet coming as well?”
“No,” said Juliet. She was looking down at the blanket and Peter had the distressing thought that she might be avoiding his eyes. “I have invited Mr. Clifford.”
The man himself came into view then, whistling a jaunty tune. Peter’s stomach tightened at seeing his long-ago lover stride into the clearing. Robert was wearing a navy blue coat with brass buttons, his cravat tied neatly and intricately in crisp, white folds. Although he was a slight man, he did not in the least look like a weak dandy, his own skin-tight nankeen breeches showing off the strength in his legs. His shoulders were strong despite his short stature, and he had no need for any extra padding as some weak fribbles on the town did. He did not wear the shining Hessian boots he sported last night, but instead wore brown riding boots more suited for a tramp in the countryside.
“Here you are!” he said brightly before taking up a spot on the large blanket. “I was not sure if I would be able to find my way, but Juliet’s instructions were very clear, thank you, my dear.”
“Of course,” she murmured. “Won’t you have some wine?”
The next half hour was spent in a somewhat tense atmosphere as they ate their luncheon, although Robert did his best to lighten it, several times winning reluctant smiles from his two companions after an amusing anecdote. He had been just as lively and charming a companion three years ago in Portugal. So young, so eager. But Peter thought he detected a bit of weariness in Robert now, a jadedness that had not been there before.
Finally, Juliet looked up from clearing the dishes away and stowing everything but the wine back into the large wicker basket. She cleared her throat and the two men looked at her expectantly.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I have set up this meeting.” She smoothed her already smooth hair back from her face, a gesture that Peter recognized as a sign of unrest. Her voice quavered a little as she said. “I have been thinking quite a lot about the position in which we find ourselves. Robert, I’m not sure how much you heard yesterday afternoon in the sitting room, but–” and here she reached out to take Peter’s hand, “I love Peter. He has asked me to be his wife, and I would like nothing better.”
Robert said nothing, his strange, light gray eyes betraying no emotion. He had a strong jaw, and conveyed a coiled strength. Peter always thought he had the movement of a cat stalking his prey. A memory flashed through his mind of a younger, naked Robert, lounging in his bed and his cock twitched, despite the fraught ambiance.
“However,” Juliet continued, her voice taking on more strength and firmness, “I am afraid that our match will not be looked upon favorably by my father and he would not consent. I have been thinking, Robert, about your offer. And I have wondered if we could not all three come to an agreement?”
Peter began to have an inkling of what Juliet might propose and he hid a smile. Robert, on the other hand, continued to give nothing away with his expression. His hand by his side, however, was in a tight fist, the whites of his knuckles showing.
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