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   Right Uther Pendragon nogardnePrethU@gmail.com Mf hist 1st oral



   "Are we agreed, then?" Lord Charles Graham asked.  "You'll be mine."

   "Yes," Bessie answered.

   "I swear I'll do right by you.  While you are with me, I provide for all
your needs.  Afterwards, I'll set you up in your own shop.  I'll provide
for any children." He wanted these assurances to be clear.  She seemed
willing enough now, but might worry later.  He'd send his instructions to
his man of business in the morning.

   "Yes, milord." She'd already said 'yes' once.  She trusted him, and his
proposition was the most romantic event in her young life.

   "Then come here." He kissed her thoroughly.  His hands caressed her back
before pulling her against him.  The soft breasts pleased him, as did the
firm belly against his member.

   Bessie thought that this was the time.  She had agreed; she shouldn't
worry.  But she did worry.  They said that the first time hurt.  He turned
her around, pressed his front against her back, and held her breasts.  The
peaks ached like they did when they were too cold, but his hands were warm
-- indeed, they were hot.  Lord Charles kissed her neck while one hand
passed across her belly to the joining of her thighs.  Suddenly, the idea
of his entering her body seemed less frightening and more exciting.

   "Now, dearest Bessie, 'tis time for you to enjoy one of the pleasures of
being mine." He tugged the bell pull twice.  Both Mary and James came into
the sitting room.  They had climbed the back stairs in less than two
minutes.  "Mary, prepare a bath for Bessie here." Mary led her upstairs to
his dressing room.  He knew that the tub was already prepared.  "James."

   "Yes, milord."

   "My robe is already in my room?"

   "Yes, milord."

   "Then prepare me for bed." They went up together, and James did as he
was bid.  He put the clothes in a wardrobe and helped him on with the robe.
After turning the blanket and sheet onto the left-hand side of the bed and
laying the bolster over them, he left.  Since there was no bath involved in
his preparations, Charles knew that Bessie would take much longer.  He
waited in a chair, reading the recently-published "Don Juan." The fire was
high and warmed the entire room.  He did not need the blankets to warm him.
The book seemed, despite the coyness of its language, somehow appropriate.

   Bessie had never enjoyed so large a tub as the one she saw.  Mary helped
her undress as no one had in the past decade.  The water was hot, the soap
turned to creamy suds.

   "There is more hot water on the hob, Miss, when you want it," Mary said
when Bessie was lying back in the tub with only her head above water.

   "No, thank you.  I've never had so hot a bath."

   "Well, Miss, it is there." She handed her a washcloth for her face. 
When Bessie handed it back and rose to wash her body, Mary handed her
another cloth.  Both of them looked like they had been cut from a bolt of
linen rather than cut from a piece of ruined cotton clothing.  When she
stepped out of the tub, Mary dried her.  She handed her an
expensive-looking nightgown when she reached for her clothes.  "These will
be washed before morning, Miss," she said.  "Milord is expecting you in
there." Mary pointed at a door.  Bessie opened the door.  She'd never seen
so many candles burning except in a church.  Lord Charles rose and put down
his book.

   "You look even lovelier like that," he said.  Bessie blushed.  The
nightgown left the tops of her breasts uncovered and was thin enough to
reveal the rest of her shape.  "Come here." When she did, he kissed her
again.  His hands roamed her back and buttocks.  When he licked her lips,
she opened them in surprise.  His tongue entered her mouth.  When her
tongue met it, she felt a stirring in her loins.  "Come." He led her in
front of the fire.  He turned her to face it and stood behind her.  He
kissed the side of her neck while his hands cupped her breasts.  "Are you
too warm?" he asked.  In truth, between the fire and the caresses, she was
beginning to sweat.

   "Yes, milord."

   "Charles.  When we are alone in this room, you are to call me
'Charles'." He lifted the nightgown at her shoulders.

   "Milord!"

   "But you said that you were warm." He kept lifting it.  She had said
that she was his; she raised her arms to let it come off.  "You are truly
beautiful." He turned her in his arms and kissed her once more.  When his
mouth left hers, it continued to her face, her neck, her breasts.

   Charles was finding his new acquisition quite delightful.  Her bath had
left her smelling attractive.  Her shape was everything he'd guessed from
her clothes.  She hadn't turned into a doxie now that the bargain was
sealed.  He didn't want temporary monopoly on a doxie; he wanted total
possession of a pure girl.  She'd go with other men when he was done with
her, and why not?  But he would share her with not even a memory while she
was his.

   Bessie had agreed to this with her eyes open.  It meant pain once, but
she had known pain.  It meant eating for the next year, eating for the rest
of her life if he kept those promises.  Had he thrown her down on the couch
after she had agreed, she would have closed her eyes and opened her legs.
This teasing, this kissing, this stripping her in the light of all those
candles, was producing a real anxiety.  She knew how the evening would end.
She no longer had any idea what would come in between.  Even so, the kisses
were exciting.  Being asked to call him 'Charles,' being waited upon by a
maidservant, these opened up exciting possibilities just as his kisses and
possessive hands raised a different kind of excitement.

   Charles moved back slightly without breaking the kiss.  He passed his
hand down her front.  He caressed her throat, stroked her breast and
tweaked the nipple, appreciated the firm belly, played with the hair on her
mound.  He touched both thighs momentarily before he reached her lower
lips. He rubbed the outer ones together before parting them.  He stroked
the inner ones once before parting those.  His finger entered her far
enough to feel her hymen.  It was intact, as he had expected.  She would
truly be his.  As he removed his finger, he passed it over her little
nubbin.  She gasped.

   "My lord!"

   "Charles.  I want to hear you call me Charles."

   "Charles." She could not think what to say to him after that.  He didn't
wait for her to continue.

   "Don't you think it is time for us to go to bed?"

   "Yes, Charles." Whenever he suggested it was the right time.

   "You will take the right-hand side." He led her around the bed to the
part which had been stripped to a sheet.

   Bessie sank down into the feather bed.  She appreciated the linen sheet
which appeared to never have been darned.  When Charles pushed her down,
she lay on a soft pillow.  Soon he was kissing her again.  The kisses soon
left her mouth.  They trailed to her ear, her neck, her breasts.  That was
all pleasantly exciting.  When they trailed lower, however, Bessie grew
nervous.  The tongue digging into her navel tickled, but the trail of
kisses went even lower.

   When Charles reached the hair on Bessie's groin, he knelt on the bed. 
He walked on his knees until he was between her legs.  She looked worried,
but not resistant.  Good!  But her acceptance was not enough.  The price of
acceptance was three pence.  He wanted her enthusiasm.  He began kissing
her thighs.  As he approached the mons veneris, Bessie must have realized
his destination.

   "No, milord.  That is not right." Kissing a woman there!  A lord kissing
a woman there!  Being kissed there!"

   "Au contraire, Bessie." Damn!  The girl's parents were farm laborers. 
She probably didn't know even that much French.  "Just the opposite,
Bessie. That kiss is right.  For one thing, it's my right.  You said that
you belonged to me, didn't you?"

   "Yes, milord. . .  Charles."

   "Then I can kiss any part of my possession that I choose to.  Right?"

   "But. . . ."

   Having won the argument, Charles returned to her thigh.  The kisses
began a little closer to the knee than they had ended.  Soon enough,
though, he got a whiff of her aroma.  She might argue, but she had been
aroused.  He proceeded towards his goal.

   When Lord Charles kissed the very top of her thigh, so intimately that
his cheek was pressed against her parts, Bessie held her breath.  First his
fingers parted her lower lips; then his tongue crept between them.  She
knew that was wrong; but when she'd consented to be his, she'd consented to
his doing with her what he willed.  Obeying him, for that matter obeying a
lord, was right.

   Charles enjoyed the taste of her arousal as he licked her inner lips
apart.  Then, he lapped up the juices there with his tongue going higher in
her groove at every lick.  This was his, he exulted.  Soon, he'd be basting
his member in these juices.  Bessie's thighs against his shoulders felt
more relaxed now.

   Bessie's worries that this kiss was wrong were being rapidly displaced
the realization that the feelings were so right.  When she felt his tongue
on some other location down there, the thrill was electric.  She moaned.

   "Oh!"

   Charles smiled.  He'd achieved the effect he wanted.  He licked her lips
twice more, always ending at her nubbin.  Then he straightened until he was
kneeling above her.  "Hand me that bolster from your left." With the
bolster in his right hand, he lifted her clear from the bed with his left
arm under her knees.  After checking that the linen pad would be on top, he
shifted the bolster under her sweet bum and lowered her onto it.  Now, her
coign was raised to welcome him -- first his mouth.  He left her knees well
bent, and returned to kissing her thighs.  By this time, her aroma alone
was enough to arouse him.

   Bessie knew where Lord Charles's mouth was headed this time, and the
bolster had raised his target to prominence.  She was still somewhat
embarrassed, but she was more eager for those delightful sensations to
begin again.  Then, they did; and she reveled in her feelings.

   Charles doffed the robe.  Then he slipped one hand and then the other
under her thighs and around the bolster.  Soon he had a breast in each
hand. His tongue played with the nubbin while his thumbs played with her
nipples.  He could feel her tense in his arms.

   Bessie was feeling sensations from her breasts and her center.  The
warmth flowed back and forth.  Then it all concentrated in her center,
right under Lord Charles's mouth.  Something down there was drawing tighter
and tighter.  When it broke, it sent fire shooting through her.  She
groaned.

   "Gahh!"

   When Charles heard that sound and felt Bessie's spasm beneath his mouth,
he sucked on her nubbin and pinched each nipple.  He pulled back as her
motions almost threw him off.  He pulled his arms back from under her legs
to move up in the bed over her.  His left arm braced on the edge of the
bed, his right hand fitted his member to her entrance.

   Bessie was still glorying in the aftereffects of the pleasure.  It had
sent her spiraling into the sky, and she stll saw stars when she heard Lord
Charles talking to her from an inch above her face.

   "Taste yourself," he said as he adjusted his posture for a straight
thrust.  He kissed her and licked her tongue.  "You see, dear Bessie, that
the kiss is your right as much as it is mine.  If a woman. . . ." He drove
himself forward, not stopping until he was buried in her center.

   "Ow!" Bessie exclaimed.  It hurt, and she had stopped worrying minutes
ago.  But Lord Charles was staring into her eyes, continuing his discourse.

   ". . .  must gather honey from thorns, she should taste the honey before
she feels the thorn." Charles gloried in the feel of Bessie's warm
tightness all around him.  She was his!  He watched her face relax from the
first shock at the pain that had caused her yelp.  "That pain will never
happen again." Bessie knew that.  Everybody said that the first time hurt.
And, to tell the truth, it hadn't been all that bad; she'd had switchings
far more painful; and they'd lasted much longer, too.  Then she felt him
move out and in again.  That brought a little twinge, like the shadow of
the first pain.  It also brought back some of the excitement that she had
felt during the kiss.  His hands were warm on her breasts, and that warmth
spread to the rest of her body.

   Charles felt Bessie's firm young breasts fill his hands while her tight
pussy gripped his member as it slid back and forth.  The feelings were
exquisite, and he slowed his pace to savor them.  The look on Bessie's face
had gone from pain to a semblance of pleasure.  Then her expression turned
inward as though she were contemplating a deep problem.  He hoped it was
himself she was considering, for he was certainly in her depths.  Great as
the pleasure he received from his slow stroking though Bessie's warm
slickness, his arousal would not permit its continuance.  He sped his pace,
rushing towards his release.

   Bessie was soaring on her own feelings when she felt Lord Charles
pumping faster and faster within her.  Somehow, this increase in speed took
her over some fence.  She felt the fire shoot through her again.

   Charles felt Bessie clutch around his member as it made one of its final
strokes.  That grasp took him over the top.  He thrust deeply and pulsed
out his seed into her matrix.  Her last two clutchings milked him dry.  He
dropped onto her softness.

   Bessie held Lord Charles in her arms as they both gasped for breath.  He
lay on her body as another part of him escaped her grasp.  Finally, he
raised himself and spoke.

   "I'll get to my own side, now." Charles moved off Bessie and burrowed
under sheet and blankets.  He tossed the sheet over her.  "You may push the
bolster off that side of the bed if lying on it is uncomfortable.  We don't
need it any longer." James could collect it in the morning.  The blood on
the cover and the pad would be a trophy to remind him of this night.

   Bessie discarded the bolster.  She drew the covers over her.  They were
hardly needed in so warm a room.  She was happy she'd accepted the offer.
She'd expected the pain; it was a small price to pay for a full stomach and
a warm roof over her head for as long as the bargain would last.  The
pleasure had been unexpected.  She was content -- sleepy but content.

   Charles turned on his side facing her.  He knew that the hot fire would
burn down soon -- all the sooner for the present heat.  His back, towards
the fireplace, would cool last.  Bessie, cooling first, would have no other
source of warmth but cuddling with him.  After his recent climax, he
content to wait for that cuddle.  This had been a good evening, and it
augured well for the evenings in their future.

   The end Right Uther Pendragon nogardnePrethU@gmail.com

   My thanks to Denny for editing this.

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