Anything Else, My Lord

Edwin Mudd has recently learned that he is the heir to Marchmount House and an enormous fortune. He is met by Dame Mary, the middled-aged yet beautiful and elegant mother of the former heir; she will remain on his estate as his tenant.


Dame Mary advises him to learn to act as Lord Marchmount and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh afforded by the estate. Even though he isn't sure exactly what she means, he agrees, and she tells him she will arrange to have someone suitable sent to him.


After a short nap to recover from his journey, Edwin is awoken by Amanda, a petite yet buxom servant-girl. Amanda clearly understands what's expected of her; will Edwin be able to learn his part quickly enough to be able to learn about her parts, too?

WARNING: This 5,500-word novel features scenes of an erotic nature between a gentleman and a compliant servant, in a setting reminiscent of "Downton Abbey".

Excerpt:


"What else may I do for you, my lord?" she asked.


So--that was indeed it. And Edwin knew he wouldn't be much help to the poor thing; just as she seemed unable to speak intelligibly about what she wanted, he knew that speaking directly about the subject would be impossible for him too.


"How old are you, my dear?" he asked.


"Nineteen, sir."


"I see." Conversation again failed him; he didn't know what he ought to say now.


She clamped shut, her face squeezed into a pout in an attempt to stop weeping. Edwin leaned forward and put a hand on her elbow; the sight of the crying girl panicked him. "It's all right," he soothed her. "Shh, shh."


She moved closer, as if allowing him to grasp her arm more easily. "I just want to do as I'm meant to," she said among her sobs. "I wouldn't want to--to--"


Edwin felt a fresh rush of stimulation as she edged closer to him. He could detect a faint scent of soap, a tiny amount of heat radiating from her body. He hadn't been this close to a girl--to a woman, he corrected himself mentally--in some time.


"And tell me,” he said, his voice sounding heavy and strained, "what would Lord Marchmount have you do when you brought his tea?"


"Well, sir," she answered, "would it p'raps be better if I showed you?"


"I believe it might," he answered.


He was glad she suggested it, in fact; while he knew what sexual intercourse was, he wasn't quite certain how he might begin to procure it from her. Would he demand that she remove her clothing? Would he remove his own first? Would she need to lie on the floor, or--


She knelt in front of him and smiled, their faces almost touching now. His heart leapt as she leaned forward, placing her hands on his thighs. The delicate touch was as an electric current surging through him.


Her impish smile only broadened as her hands ran further up his legs, resting finally on the waistband of his trousers. If she were to feel any closer, she would find the growing erection therein, and he feared her doing so... and also ardently hoped that she would.


She ran her hands down, placing them on either side of his rigid shaft, and--glory!--pulled them together, putting a slight but definite pressure on him that was dizzyingly delightful.


Before he fully comprehended her actions, she had begun to loosen his flies, and once they were undone she took no time to pull his member free. There he was, all visible to her, to the world.


She gasped slightly. "You're quite large, sir," she breathed, not looking at him, her gaze fixed on the proud cock standing between them...