Angeline's dalliances with the servants has opened her in new and exciting ways to the pleasures of the flesh she had never before dreamed of. But her new sexual needs are no longer fulfilled by a mere two servants. After her husband yet again denies her needs, she demands that someone new be brought to join in their illicit games.
Thus the gameskeeper's son, a young redhead of only eighteen years, is introduced to their party in the forest. His youthful vigor is welcome, but will he be able to satisfy Angeline's desires? And with two randy, bisexual servants involved, what else will be required of the new lad?
WARNING: This 5300-word erotic interlude is Part III of the Serving At Her Pleasure series. It includes explicit depictions of MM, MMF, and MMMF intimacy, including oral and anal sex and all sorts of other penetrations, taking place in a setting reminiscent of Downton Abbey.
Angeline looked the young man up and down. If there was one thing she had learned over the last day or two, it was that you never knew.
"Come here, Damien," Angeline said, gesturing towards him with a finger. He moved to stand before her with his diffident slouch. Not a promising start.
"Remove your shirt, please," she asked.
His skin was quite white, and had only the slightest downy hair of a teenager on it; but the muscles were evident even in this simple act. The arms, shoulders, chest were all wrapped in thick, ropy cords, belying a strength and haleness that came of much outdoor work. His hands, too, were large and looked strong. He licked his lips nervously--they were plump and full, and looked lovely and soft.
His blue eyes were on her now, and her chest suddenly tightened. She traced the line of his stomach down with her gaze, to the waistband of his tweed trousers; what lay beneath, she wondered? Firm, taut buttocks, most probably--and a long fat cock.
"Well?" she enquired, not sure how to phrase her request, her blood beginning to rush to her head. She would be less able to articulate if she did not get it out soon. "Perhaps you ought to get to work, young sir." She pulled her skirts up above her knees again.
He dropped to his knees directly, and--with a quick glance to ensure she would not protest--he placed his hands on her bare thighs. She drew them a little wider.
He fell upon her fanny like an eager dog and prised her apart immediately, separating the sensitive lips and probing deep within her. A gush of desire coursed through her and she found herself taking his head in both her hands, as though forbidding him to stop his work...