I kept my appointment two days later. We were sitting in her conservatory during the afternoon. The sun was out this day making the glass shine and the flowers quite radiant. I was about to bite into a biscuit when my hostess asked me, “So, which of the girls do you plan to bed?”
I spilled my tea and biscuit all over my vest. She was up and laughing as she helped my wipe off my vest. “Lady Warren,” I gasped. “What sort of question is that?”
“An honest one, Lord Northam. Simply an honest one,” she replied. “Come come, Lord Northam. I have been watching. Here you are, having lived most your life in America, just in from the country and dressed in the latest fashions of London. You seem so conventional, yet I perceive that you subtly disapprove, no, I should say, you make sport of the conventional.”
“You seem to have watched me closely, Lady Warren, and I have not noticed your eye on me,” I said.
“Ah, you would have soon or later. I am simply hurrying the inevitable. For you would seek guidance sooner or later on breaching the walls of innocence in society,” she said.
“Innocence?” I asked. “Does such really exist?”
She laughed, “You see, that is why I noticed you. You know the real question to ask. Perhaps I should have said the walls protecting virginity?”
“I have noticed that such seem to be guarded most jealously here in London, at least, among society,” I said.
“Was it not so in America?” Lady Warren asked.
“More in the saying than the practice,” I answered.
“Ah, an accomplished broacher of walls, I would guess,” she said.
I let that pass still uncertain of the Lady’s intent. “And what is your interest? You have no marriageable daughters.”
“Tis true. My own are long married and settled into stuffy respectability,” she said sadly. “More’s the pity. My interest is now for its own sake. I love watching the chase and experiencing the battle vicariously. I remember it well, but a girl can only experience such a battle a few times,” she said.
“Not just once?” I asked.
“No, no. Two, three maybe even four times if the girl is sufficiently creative and talented,” Lady Warren said laughing. She turned serious. “I think your first conquest should be the young Lady Sussex.”
I laughed, for the girl was beautiful. Seventeen, she had lustrous black hair and green eyes, her skin was pale and looked flawless as the finest Carrara marble. Her breasts were full, and her waist narrow. All eyes followed her when she came into a room. Her father, Lord Sussex, had married a Greek princess and the girl had an exotic cast from the marriage of Greek and Saxon.
“Lady Warren, while your idea has merit, her father jealousy guards her as if she were the Suez Canal and he the commanding general,” I said.
“Ah, true. But no father guards his daughter against others of the fair sex. Why Lady Sussex even now comes to my house for tea several times a week. We converse on the most surprising subjects. One would never think that a lady of such qualities is overcome with the most degrading passion, just as a strumpet in Whitechapel. Or perhaps you would believe it, a broacher of such young maidens, eh." she said smiling at me most pointedly. "Of course, I have been guiding her to realize that all of us feel these passions and how best to, shall we say, scratch the itch while keeping the appearance of virtue, appearance being more essential than fact.”
“Hm, yes," I said. "I have read a French playwright who said, 'It is no sin to sin in secret.' Let me guess. You have already spoken to Lady Sussex about me,” I said. She nodded, a subtle smile on her face. “And the dear girl has shown some interest in meeting me.”
“Lord Northam, you are a rugged good-looking man, not too old, not too young, acceptable in society, though probably not as a marriage partner for the lady, so she need not worry that she is obstructing any possible alliance in her future. And last, dear sir, I know you are practiced in the art, though I have not told the girl this. After all, young girls want a man of some experience, but they do not wish to be just one more notch on the bedpost. They want to be special. In short, you are perfect,” she said.
I was stunned. The woman had pegged me almost exactly. All she was unaware of was my power residing in the ring, at least, I prayed she was unaware of it.
She caught me off guard with her next question as I pondered if she knew of the ring.
“Would you join me for tea tomorrow at two? Lady Sussex will be dropping by at three so that no one will notice the coincidence of your arrival,” she said.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I blurted out.
She laughed gaily. “Oh good. I see I have surprised you with my efficiency,” she said.
“Indeed, my Lady. Well, seeing how you have done such good work, I would hate to put it all to naught. Two it is,” I said.
“Partners,” she said. “And please, call me Vivian. I think we should be on a first name basis, partners as we are.”
I nodded. “Vivian, please call me Jeremy.”
She stood and led me to the front, “Tomorrow, my dear Jeremy.” I took her hand before departing, my head a bit in a whirl. Lady Sussex. What a prize catch she would be. I must admit that my thoughts for the rest of the day and into the next morning were almost entirely of the beautiful Lady Sussex and the surprising Lady Vivian Warren.
I arrived the next day punctually. The servant saw me upstairs to Lady Warren’s boudoir. “My dear, Vivian, unconventional indeed. Tea in the boudoir?”
“Tea, oh yes, tea. I almost forgot we were to have tea,” she said. “Come have a seat and let us talk of Lady Sussex,” she said pointing to a table by the window. She told me of the Lady, her preferences and dreams about men. It seems the Lady had taken Vivian into her confidence because her own mother had such rigid views that she would not even discuss the facts of life with the girl, something which was becoming ever more common in the modern era. And a terrible thing it is that mothers leave their daughters so ignorant when they should be equipping the girl with every knowledge of sex and men. They leave the poor girl defenseless. And so I was prepared to conquer the lady by her confidant.
At three, the Lady was escorted up. I stood aside as Vivian welcomed her. When the girl saw me, she blanched. “Vivian,” she said quite nonplussed.
“Oh piffle, my dear. Come, meet Lord Northam. Jeremy, Lady Sussex. Annie, Jeremy Lord Northam.”
She took my hand, “Lord Northam.”
“Please, call me Jeremy since we are both friends to Vivian,” I said.
“Uh, yes. Please call me Annie as well,” she said, obviously uncomfortable.
Acting as though everything were perfectly normal, Vivian led us to the table which had been set with three places and tea with various biscuits and cakes. “Come, let us have some tea.”
“I’ve never had tea in a boudoir before,” Annie said.
“There is a first time for everything,” Vivian told her, causing the girl to blush by the implication. Vivian served us, then turned to me, “Jeremy, I do love that suit. Perfect for afternoon tea.”
“Ah, I’ll shall pass on the compliment. You see, I go to my tailor and say to him, ‘Sir, I am attending a concert in the country. What should I wear?’ The good man knows everything he has ever made for me. He tells me wear the brown tweed but you’ll need country boots and sends me down the street with specific instructions. So you see, I have expert advice.”
Vivian and Annie laughed. Vivian said to her, “You see, my dear girl. That is why men marry. They need a woman to take care of them. That is what you need experience in, taking care of a man’s needs.” The girl blushed most fetchingly and nearly dropped her tea.
Suddenly, Vivian stood. “Oh dear me, I have forgotten something. Please, excuse me for a moment.” She hurried to the door.
Realizing she would be alone in a boudoir with a man, Annie called out, “But Vivian, when will you return?”
“Oh, do not worry... at the proper time. Everything must appear proper.” She gave the girl a look heavy with meaning and was out the door.
The poor girl was squirming on her chair. I knew I could seduce her, for Vivian had prepared the field for reaping. But that would entail much cajolery and undoubtedly leave the girl uncomfortable for part of the journey. I took pity and used the power of the ring to allay her worries. “Annie, it is obvious why we are here. I would like very much to teach you what you desire to know. Do not trouble yourself. Vivian is right that all women feel these desires. Come, and we will make love as a man and woman should, joyously and happily.” The ring glowed and I felt my will leap to the girl.
Annie relaxed immediately and smiled. She set her tea down. “Jeremy, it appears that we are both pawns of Vivian.”
“No, I think not. Vivian simply is bringing two people together who desire the same thing, each other. I want you, my beautiful Annie.”
She was out of her chair and came into my arms. We kissed. She was not much experienced, but passionate. I had broken the wall restraining her passion and it poured forth. I led her to the bed, still kissing. Soon, clothes were flying. My God, but she was flawless, better than a painting of a Venus by the Masters. Naked, I took her back into my arms and we kissed. I laid her on the bed and proceeded to show her all I had learned of the Arts of Venus.
Annie experienced all I had to know, from passionate kisses over her body, to French love until she was quaking, and finally taking her fully with my staff hard into her. She gave as good as she got, meeting my thrusts, moaning and begging me for more. It was soon apparent that the girl had a true and deep passion for pleasure. Sweaty with our long coupling, I could hold back no longer and spent into the girl filling her with my seed.
We were lying in the bed, both sated, when Vivian swept into the room. Annie tried to cover herself but we were lying on the covers. “Oh, quit it girl. I’ve raised girls and boys. Relax Annie.” She took her by the hand and led her to the bath, “Come on, I’ll help you clean up.”
I followed, still naked myself, wondering how assured Vivian really was. She was helping Annie with a bidet, a French contraption for women. “You might be sore for a day or two. After that, you’ll not feel pain.”
“There was little pain, Vivian,” Annie said as she washed her private area.
“Good, Jeremy did his task well,” she said smiling. She took up a wet towel and began to wash my manhood.
Annie covered her mouth, “Vivian!”
“Be still. I told you I had a husband of many years and raised boys. I’ve washed many a cock. They are wondrous when they stand to do their duty and the rest of the time,” she let it go and it drooped, all used up as it was, “They just hang there,” causing both ladies to howl in laughter at my surprised face. She ran me out of the bath and told me to dress. She helped Annie dress and fix her hair so that all signs of her activities were eradicated.
When Annie came from the bath, she was the picture of girlish innocence. “Thank you, Jeremy. I enjoyed our time together.”
“As I did, Annie. The pleasure was all mine.”
“Off with you girl, before mama suspects something. You’ll have other opportunities,” Vivian told her with a smile. Annie blushed, then looked at me with a certain hunger in her eyes. I knew this was not the last time I should enjoy her perfect body.
When Vivian returned, she closed the door to her boudoir behind her. “Now, Sir. You will repay my efforts.”
“And you require?”
Vivian came into my arms, “Performance,” she breathlessly said.
“Then why did you have me dress?” I asked.
“Annie should not guess about us. It would taint her enjoyment. Now, I would require your services,” she said.
“Ah, Dear Vivian. You could have had such by asking. You’ve no need to demand it as payment,” I said.
“But I am old,” she said with a trace of sadness in her voice. Age is tragedy in a woman.
“You do not know me as well as you might think, then. My first love was a woman older than I, and most of my most cherished lovers have been mature women. They are the best for they add to the sum of the pleasures rather than the man being responsible for both. I like a woman of experience,” I said. “But my dear, you find me as you said, just hanging.”
“Piffle. Don’t be hurt by my teasing, dear Jeremy. I have ways of arousing any man’s interests.” She led me to the bed and once again clothes were strewn about the room. She was right about her abilities to arouse even the apparently dead. Vivian was a master of the French arts. We both enjoyed her efforts.
Copyright Rod O'Steele © 2007