I was reading quietly by the fireside in the study, The oil lamp shone brightly and the firelight flickered as I whiled away the time before supper one cold dark February evening. A knock at the door brought me back from tales of derring do to the present. “Come” I directed, but instead of Cook announcing supper supper it was our governess Miss Williams who entered and she was in some evident distress.

She had been with us for several years now looking after my son James and daughter Emily since my dear wife departed. Departed with Mr Wilmot the cuckold and all round scoundrel you understand not departed this mortal coil.

“My Lord, I must speak with you,” Miss Williams urged.

I looked at her. In the deep shadow cast by the oil lamp I could see that her facial bone structure was good, her bosoms bulged alluringly enough her waist seemed trim enough and her legs were both long and slender, but her straw colour hair was severely bound into a bun and her face was pale as dough completely devoid of rouge or any ornament, enough to dampen any man’s ardour

“Why of course Miss Williams,” I agreed to her request.

“It is Master James sir, I am afraid he is too grown to need a governess now.” she explained.

“Quite possibly,” I agreed, “But what am I to do about it while Emily is still a child?”

“He is a man now sir,” she said, “Eighteen Summers he should be doing manly things sir, not studying.”

“Chasing comely serving wenches!” I laughed, “Surely that is manly enough, why I heard him talking to his chum ‘Chirpy’ Allen about ravishing a maid only the other evening.”

She looked very uncomfortable.

“I apologise I am embarrassing you,” I admitted, “Is that what is troubling you? That he is interested in young women?”

She looked even more uncomfortable.

“What is it Miss Williams?” I asked gently.

“It is not only young women,” she said awkwardly.

“Oh lock your grandmothers away James is on the prowl!” I laughed, “Or are you trying to say he is a sodomite?”.

Her eyes started watering.

“Oh spit it out girl, does he cavort with men, has he made improper suggestions to you?” I demanded, “What is it?”.

“No, not suggestions,” she said without being able to look me in the eye.

“Then what?” I demanded.

“He ravished me.” she said awkwardly.

“What, touched you improperly, kissed you, what?” I demanded.

“He pushed me down and lifted my gown and,” she said falteringly.

“And what?” I queried.

“Bared me and.” she added.

“For heavens sake, did he touch you or what?” I demanded.

“He lowered his breeches and.” she stuttered.

“And?” I queried.

“His manhood, it was all swollen and purple headed, I tried to resist honestly I did but I could not and.” she stopped again.

“He rammed himself deep in your sopping willing womb?” I queried, “Are you the maid he spoke of. Were you were as he said “Gagging” for it am I right?”

“He told you?” she said in horror.

“No I heard him tell his chum the other evening, well well well,” I laughed, “So it wasn’t a serving maid.”

She shook her head, “I did not encourage him,” she pleaded.

“No and hardly a maid either, Twenty Seven years if I am not mistaken.” I surmised, “And you could not resist?”

“No sir.” she declared, “He forced himself.”

“In to your dry unwilling womb, it must have been agony,|” I taunted, “So why was the entire house not roused by your screams?”

“I didn’t want to make a fuss,” she insisted

“You always resisted my drunken advances,” I reminded her, “Locked the bedroom door, kicked me in the member a few times.”

“That was different you were drunk.” she insisted.

“And had I been sober?” I queried.

“You would have behaved with propriety,” she declared, “It was because you were drunk, you didn’t desire me, any wench would have sated your needs.”

“I fear James feels much the same way about you,” I said apologetically, “Simply a womb to spend his seed in.”

“Not just my womb, my lord.” she added.

“What else?” I demanded.

“Everything!” she said, “He possesses me, he makes me bend over and grasps my bosoms and forces himself.”

“In you back side?” I asked.

“Yes my lord,” she admitted.

“Not just once then?” I queried.

“Almost every night for a month,” she admitted.

“Ah, until you bled,” I surmised.

“But I haven’t my lord, and each morning I feel queasy, I fear.” she said pleadingly.

“Oh Lord, it does rather sound like you are with child, no wonder James disappeared for London post haste,” I sighed.

“What am I to do?” she asked.

“Well I have contacts at the whore house,” I assured her.

“No I cannot be a whore!” she exclaimed.

“Who are adept at having ladies of the night become not with child if you take my meaning,” I explained, “I fear marriage to James is not an option available to us so if the child can be lost or adopted you can quietly resume your duties as a governess for some other family some distance away.”

“And Emily?” she asked.

“Will presumably be quite safe away from your influences,” I declared.

“But safe from James?” she queried.

“Ah,” I agreed, “That could be awkward.”

I thought a moment and asked her “What do you propose?”

“If I could stay until Emily is of age,” she suggested, “And then if you could purchase me an establishment, a guest house or similar, then no one shall know, and I can say my husband died fighting the French?”

“I have only your word that this took place, you might well be still a virgin and out to bamboozle me.” I insisted.

“I assure you sir I am not!” she blustered, her cheeks reddenning.

“Then show me,” I demanded, “Rise your skirts for me as you do for James and let me see.”

“I cannot!” she declared.

“Why not, am I so repulsive?” I queried.

“No, I don’t trust you to restrain you vile lusts sir,” she insisted.

“Good god girl if you are with child it will make little enough difference if I poke you from now to Michaelmas.” I assured her. “Now up with the gown and let me see.”

“No,” she protested.

“Show me or this interview is over,” I insisted.

“Oh very well,” she agreed and she bent to lift the hem of her gown. She sat on the edge of the table. Her stockings barely came to her knees, she wore no pantaloons, just a simple petit coat or underskirt. Her thighs were creamy white and her mound covered with the finest golden down.

“I need to feel for a maiden head,” I said as I stood and moved towards her.

“No, you can see if I hold myself,” she offered and she moved to hold her womb lips aside so I might see down inside her.

“No, I cannot see,” I lied as I saw nothing but a deep, pink, moist, cavern disappearing into her innards.

“I must feel, so brace yourself.”

I reached forward and eased a finger into her slot. She shuddered delightfully as I gently pressed him in to the warm moist void. Desire built in my loins. My member was alive. One finger then Two fingers and then a thumb, she was certainly no virgin.

“One last check,” I declared and I dropped my breeches.

“Oh no not that!” she gasped as my member sprang free.

“Oh yes!” I challenged, and I stepped forward and pressed my member at her slot.

She screamed briefly as I pressed inside her.

The study door opened, Mrs Bridges my rather portly and aged cook stood there in her aprons staring incredulously “What in the good lords notion is going on?”

“Patently obvious I would have thought,” I declared, “I am giving Miss Williams an internal examination”.

“Oh thank the lord,” Mrs Bridges declared, “I just about had enough of you buggering me senseless of a night, its about time you found someone younger to poke.”

“You and her?” Miss Willams squealed.

“Only up me ass mind, no babies,” Mrs Bridges smirked, “I’ll wish you good night,” and she slammed the door behind her.

“Oh I am undone, every one will know now, she gossips like a fishwife,” Miss Williams insisted.

“Hush,” I whispered, “Live for the moment, let us enjoy the comfort Adam and Eve enjoyed, let us assuage each others needs.”

“You said you needed to check,” she reminded me but I was enjoying her delights far too much to care aboutb such details.

The oil lamp flickered, the wick needed trimmimg, but I needed no light to determine how much she needed me. Moisture was leaking from her. Her teats were so hardened I could feel them through both her gown and my clothing and then she started moaning with pleasure.

It was too much. My member exploded with pent up emotion shooting my seed deep inside her. She gasped and squealed with pleasure. It was all over too soon, far too soon.

I wiped my member on her underskirt as I withdrew, “I fear this is not the place for fornication, shall we retire to my bedroom?” I queried.

“No, I am not a whore,” she blustered.

“No I agree, I should certainly not pay for a lacklustre fornication such as that,” I opined somewhat unfairly, “I declare you are more like a bitch in heat needing a good shafting than a whore, so come to my bed and let me try to damp your fires.”

“And if I refuse?” she enquired.

“There is always the Workhouse.” I replied, “Come to bed, Katherine, it is Katherine is it not, sweet Katherine.”

“I have always strived to be a good chaste girl, this is not of my choosing,” she exclaimed rather lamely for someone so desperate for a good pounding.

With apparrent reluctance she came with me to my bed chamber. It was cold so we climbed into my big four posted bed and pulled the curtains shut to keep out the world. I slipped off my shirt and breeches and slipped shivering beneath the covers.

I heard rather than saw her disrobe and then her lithe slender body was slipping down under the covers beside me. My mind went back to my wife and my love and consideration for her. Consideration and abstention but for Friday evenings when she clearly wanted nothing more than a rampant pounding or three every evening and morning. I decided there and then that this one would not escape me so easily.

We embraced like lovers more for warmth than passion but in a moment my member responded.

I kissed her cheek, she grasped my member

“I should refuse but I am a weak and the harm is already done,” she explained as she sought out my now rock hard member and guided me into her womb once more.

“You must tell me what excites you,” I whispered, “I wish to hear you scream with ecstasy.”

I did not take many moments to realise she just needed a good solid pounding as she wrapped her legs around me and pulled me down so my chest pressed downwards onto her breasts. She wanted my mouth on hers, I don’t think she cared much who was pounding her she just needed release.

“Yes,” she said, “Kiss me. Take me. Devour me for I am on fire!”

I pulled the pin from her hair bun and cast it aside so her hair fell down, straggling across the pillows in the darkness. It felt so good. A lithe young body beneath mine, even if she bore my grand child I cared not and as my excitement reached a climax so she gasped “Sate me please sate me!” she cried and at once my seed burst forth sating her desires as she asked.

I was sated and exhausted, she went to leave. I stopped her. “This is your bed now madam,” I whispered, move your things tomorrow but for now sleep beside me.”

She was gone when I woke, I lay abed until nigh on noon well satisfied with my lot and when I did rise I sought out my Lawer Mr Ravensworth.

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That evening I was reading quietly by the fireside in the study, The oil lamp shone brightly and the firelight flickered as I whiled away the time before supper one cold dark February evening. A knock at the door brought me back from tales of derring do to the present. “Come” I directed. Miss Williams who entered and she was in some evident distress.

“My Lord, I must speak with you,” Miss Williams urged.

I looked at her and smiled in anticipation of bedding her once more. Her bosoms bulged alluringly enough and her straw colour hair was now loose around her shoulders while her face was flushed and her lips reddened.

“Why of course Miss Williams,” I agreed to her request.

“I am bleeding, it was all a horrible mistake,” she explained, “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, now come and suck my cock, for the moment. Don’t despair, we shall have you with child soon enough,” I assured her. “But first kiss me on the mouth, and we shall play at being lovers.”

She came to sit on my lap.

“Oh and incidentally my lawyer informs me that as my dear wife has now been gone Seven years and a day it seems I might reasonably divorce her and marry you if you will have me.”

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