Marianne leaned over and plucked some notes to toy with him. “Take it out,” she said softly.
Frederick froze, as if trying to understand if she was saying what he hoped she was saying. Then he rose from the seat without delay and opened his placket.
“That’s it,” she said, licking her lips. “Take it out for me.”
When he got himself free of his smalls, Frederick watched as his rock-hard cock came into view — with a line of drool emanating from the tip.
Marianne put her hand to the string and followed it up to the slit currently pumping out liquid in anticipation of pouring his sack into his wife. She let her fingertip rest against the small hole, playing with the opening and all that slick fluid.
“Put your hand…your hand around it,” said Frederick, desperate to feel her jerk his cock.
“Maybe you could practice those notes I taught you,” she said, flashing him a daring gaze.
“Blast the musical lesson,” he whined, still standing before his wife with his cock out. “I want you.”
“And I want you…to practice your lesson,” she said. “I promise it will be most enjoyable. Take a seat and show me what you’ve learned.”
Frederick shuffled to the seat and sank onto it, his thighs spread wide so as not to upset his aching piece. He’d be sure to get his wife back for this torture; perhaps the next time she begged to be ridden hard, he’d treat her to the softest, most respectful of thrusts.
“Now play a glissando,” she said, her manner that of a governess. Thinking about his wife as a governess only made him randier, and Frederick had to rack his brain to recall the notes he’d learned.
He plucked, and the sound wasn’t unpleasant.
“Oh, that’s good, husband,” she said, her eyes warm.
And then Marianne shuffled close and licked the head of his cock.
“Darling!” he exclaimed, his fingers grabbing at the harp strings to steady himself. It made a discordant sound, and she drew back from where she’d been so pleasurably only moments before.
“Again,” he rasped. “Please.”
“Again,” she replied, inclining her head to the harp. “Please.”
Frederick had not a whiff of musical inclination, but he plucked and played frantically as his wife anointed his cock with her mouth. Did it sound correct? Was this even music? Would his inexperienced fingers bleed? None of it mattered, not a single concern, as his ladylike wife — his duchess — teased his cockhead with her mouth.
“I think I love you, Marianne,” he said, repeating what he said often with wonder, as if it had only just occurred to him.
“Is that so?” she asked, pulling off his cock, to his great consternation.
He nodded frantically.
“Do you know what I like?”
“Me playing the harp?” he asked.
“What else?”
Frederick paused. He needed to get this right. “Chocolate in bed upon waking?”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I do enjoy that. What else?”
Frederick thought to that chase through the woods, when he’d worn a mask and taken her most brutally. Did she want that? While wearing their dinner clothes and ensconced in the drawing room? If she wanted that, he would need to prepare afuneral for his cock because it would never soften again until he was laid out to join the ancestors in the family crypt.
“Do you enjoy…being taken?” he asked. “Used roughly?”
Marianne’s breathing slowed. She licked her lips, where she no doubt tasted his cock, and crawled towards the center of the room.
On her hands and knees, she struggled with her dress to bring it up, fighting the weight of her bustle.
