“And tell me,” he persisted, “what you thought that night at the opera, when I held your hand in the dark.”
“I loved you then.” He rewarded her with another series of tongue strokes. “I even hoped that, maybe now, I wouldn’t be too young for you.”
“You still were,” he said, sucking on her until she writhed. “But now you finally aren’t. And I want you so badly. Need you.”
And then he lavished her with his tongue. Even though it was through the cloth, he knew that she could still feel the pressure and the sensation of his tongue. Her hands grew tighter on his skull, threaded as they were through his hair. His own cockstand was blazing against his falls, nearly painful and pulsing.
He felt her break open. She came against his mouth. I could die here, he thought to himself, I hope I do.
Her fingers eased and he drew back. He stood and made to return to his seat, but she caught his hand.
“I want to do the same for you.”
“We’re in the breakfast room.” He smirked. Nevertheless his blood fired at her words. He could hear its sound in his ears.
“That didn’t stop you!”
“There are some chances I’m not willing to take. And tupping you in the Breminster House breakfast room is one of them.”
“You look like you’re in pain. And you can’t go out in the hall this way. Cresley would be scandalized.”
She reached out her hand and stroked him through his breeches. He groaned and leaned into her hand. He could feel the cum escaping him in miniature spurts. His body was begging him for release.
“I can’t come in my breeches.”
“Here,” she said and unbuttoned his falls. Once he was unsheathed, she kept stroking him. Her smooth hands on his engorged cock were both balm and instigator.
And then he had a wicked idea.
He knew that her undergarments were already soaked through. And he didn’t quite fancy the idea of coming in a serviette.
“Sit back,” he said.
“What?”
“Just trust me.”
Grasping the back of her chair, he lowered himself until his cock touched her sinfully wet undergarments, slick with his own saliva and her moisture. He moved the swollen head of his member on the soaked garment, relishing in the proximity to her heat. The moisture and heat nearly sent him over the edge.
“Oh God,” Henrietta said, and he looked up at her. She was biting her lip.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” she said, her breath a whisper. He swirled the head of his cock against her and almost came again.
“I’m going to come from just this,” he said. “Do you see what you do to me? Do you see?”
“You feel so good. I love having you—there.”
As he thrust against her heat and moisture, the undergarment providing a frustrating yet somehow tantalizing barrier, she moved against him. He slid between her thighs and then back up to her core. He could feel his orgasm building in his spine.
“I’m going to come here,” he said, rubbing his cock against her core once again.
“Yes,” she panted, “I want you to.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, he was coming, his cum spilling out of him in hot waves and coating the front of her undergarment. He rubbed against her as he did so and she moaned in response. His good girl, he thought, already ready again.
Just as sense began to return to him, he heard the door open. With the reflexes honed by many years of illicit affairs, Tremberley dropped to his knees, pulling Henrietta’s skirt down with him. On the floor, he relaced his breeches as quickly as possible.
