There was a distinct air of expectancy that even the most concentrated fog could not dispel as you arrived at the manor house gates. The night lantern gave the misty darkness a sombre glow. You slipped from your horse and tied the reins in a half hitch next to the gatehouse. You stared up at the heavy grey stone and pushed at the large oak door of the main building. As you stepped across the threshold, you sensed that faint fragrance. It making you start, reacting with your instinctive nervousness.
You stood, intelligently alert, trying to ascertain subconsciously, each of the intriguing subtleties with the aromas that flowed around you. They cajoled you in and beckoned you forward inexorably until you first glimpsed his shadow. You stood silently in the darkness - watching him. The eyes seemed narrowed, perhaps even closed to you, as he turned and walked away. The scent faded and your nostrils flared, reminiscent of the panting filly you had ridden so hard to arrive here on time. You sought to inhale the fading richness of that musky scent. The hairs on the nape of your neck rose the waft of that perfume sent feathery touches up and down your spine, finally spurring you to follow.
The heavy scent hung relentlessly in the still air. It led you teasingly up the stairway towards the faint strains of mellifluous jazz, that floated in the air, giving a warm accompaniment to that exotic perfume. When you finally placed your hand on the doorhandle and turned it, pushing the heavy wood slowly open, the mellow tone of a saxophone announced your arrival. The faint breeze dispelled the perfume for an instant, causing candles dotted around the room to flicker and watching eyes to blink in owlish greeting. Your eyes adjusted to the velvet darkness. You could make out his form, seated in a large chair. His powerful limbs rested on the arms of the chair. His hands were poised on the soft reddish curls of a young woman crouched at his knee. The girl's form was hardly visible, save for the barely discernible outline of her shoulder and breast. Her face was obscured by the fall of light red-blonde hair. The warm lips, gave off a faint roseate glow, even in the dim light of the little candles.
"We've been waiting for you," the young woman murmured, her voice low and husky. The sound of her voice sent shivers up and down your spine. Your throat was suddenly dry, and the well-fitted riding bodice that you wore felt very tight and constricting around her breasts.
"Who are you?" You managed to utter in a whisper after swallowing several times.
"I am my Master's," the young woman responded, letting a melodic burst of laughter mingle with the sultry tones of the jazz, both blowing towards her like a gentle breeze from across the room.
"You should know this." As the girl spoke, you could see the faint light of the candle reflected in green eyes.
"Ahhhhhh - you are well matched, Milord," you smiled refering to both the word play and the dilating pupils. It was almost hypnotic the way your brown eyes locked on the green pupils of the girl and then of the man. You focused steadily on each of them in turn, as they seemed to grow catlike until they filled the entire spectrum of your thoughts. You dared not move, fearing that the spell would be broken, and that you would find herself standing alone in an empty room, deprived of that exotic sensuality for ever.
"I want you to do something for us," the red head continued. You could only nod your head, struck silent by the wicked entente at the centre of the room.
"I want you to slowly take off your clothes, right there where you are, where we can see everything," the sultry voice continued. It caressed you, flowing over you like the sand stirring on a warm, deserted and sunlit beach. It impelled you. Without taking your eyes from the redhead's, you began to unhook your cloak, pulling the loosened ties off. As you let it slip from your shoulders, the cool air in the room washed over your flushed skin. You glanced over towards the chair and the man who sat in it. There was no response from him, except that you could sense the muscles of his chest and arms tightening, giving them a chiseled look in the dim light. The cloak dropped to the floor, instantly forgotten.
"Now the boots," the reclining submissive requested. You could hear the faint rustle of silk as the girl shifted her legs slightly on the carpet. There was no other furniture in the room , so you were forced to reach out and brace yourself against the door frame as you loosened and removed first one, then the other riding boot. When you stood in stockinged feet and gazed at the shadowy pair again, you drew a sharp breath. The man's left hand was languorously caressing the contours of the girl's right breast: little feather-like touches - first one place, then another. The faintly pink nipple reacted almost immediately, swelling until it stood up from the breast in arousal. He rolled the hard flesh gently back and forth between his finger and thumb, tearing a low gasp from the girl's throat with the intensity of the sensation.
Your pulse raced, causing your own nipples to swell almost painfully in the lacy confines of her bodice and stays, making you want to discard these garments as quickly as you could.
"Don't stop," the girl whispered. "We want to see you. I want you to make them hard for us."
Even as she spoke, you began to loosen the stays and slip the straps of the bodice from your shoulders. The extra room created by the loosened clothing caused your nipples to swell even more. They felt as if they were on fire from the hot blood racing to them and coursing through the rest of your body. You heard a further exhalation forced from the redhead, gazing intently up at you, while her Master's fingers stroked and caressed the girl's breast with greater intensity, letting the entire globe swell visibly. You slowly began to push your riding skirt and the slips, that protected your flesh from the rough denim, down over your buttocks and the fully moistened lips of your sex. After a moment of struggle the clothing fell free in a heap around your ankles. You stepped forward a pace to stand naked, save for your stockings. You blushed feeling painfully exposed to their critical gaze.
"Very lascivious. Very exotic." the approval came at last, running like a gleaming molten thread, down the walls, across the floor to rest at your feet. You shivered and stared across at the figures by the chair, watching as they changed position. You could now see the girl's legs as they lay spread open, and the outline of both breasts showed the puckered aureoles and hardened nipples. You watched the man move both hands to her nipples and savagely twist and squeeze them, causing the girl to cry out sharply. In response to a muffled growl from the man, the girl's left hand dropped down to the inky darkness between her legs. You could just make out the top edge of her the shaven lips glistening in the candlelight. Your own labia thickened as blood rushed to feed your mounting excitement. You jumped as you heard the slick wet sound of the girl's hand teasing moisture from between her legs, but you could hardly see anything. Neither the man's nor the girl's faces were yet visible.
"Come here, please!" the girl instructed, a mixture of clipped command and pleading request, her right forefinger pointing straight at you. You approached the couple. You could smell the girl's arousal now, as well as hear the sound of the wetness amplify as the redhead caressed herself more rapidly. You knelt down next to the girl and reached out a hand to touch her ankle, pausing and drawing back when the girl shivered. Milord shook his head slowly and both he and you looked at the girl as if she were fragile glass, shimmering in an intensity of feeling. The man began to stroke the girl's head, letting strands of hair slip through his fingers. Each time his hand slipped over that head, a look of pleasure suffused the girl's face, rocking you to the core.
"You wish to touch and kiss, my pet?" a deeper voice startled you out of her reverie.
"If it would give you both pleasure?" she responded shyly, before you could open your mouth and before you could realise that the question was addressed to the girl and not to you. You would have leant forward to feel the soft pale skin of the girl beneath the silken garment that was more off than on now. A glance from him held you back. He nodded approving your demure hesitation and permitting the manor house pet turned to apply gentle pressure to the delicate flesh. You envied the sang-froid with which she caressed the calf, the knee and, then, the almost white inner thigh. She looked up at her Master and watched him smile broadly. She looked at you contemplatively and finally reached over to squeeze and palpitate your breasts. The rhythm of her strokes slowly accelerated, until they matched the rapid pulsing in her own throat, constricted as it was by a white collar.
The manor house pet was purring as she feverishly ran her tongue over lips and teeth, her breathing ragged and shallow. The entire world, became concentrated in the new triumvirate at the centre of the room. The sound of the pet's breathing, the little gasps, the liquid sound of manipulation, hands moving as if in slow motion on the warmth of her breasts, distilled time and space into a single moment in space. You felt as if they were connected by an invisible thread. Suddenly the pet's entire body was convulsed in a muscular spasm so intense that it appeared excruciatingly painful, yet, paradoxically intensely pleasurable. His hand held the pet's shoulder in a titan's grip, leashing her to him as she floated away into sub space.
You felt her excitement peak and, unconstrained by warning looks fron the Master, reached out to join your hand in the pet's. You too wanted to float on to that special preserved locus of delight. Hearing the pet take a shuddering breath, you could see her thighs straining as she lifted her hips from the carpet. His gloved hands, one at her breast torturing the nipple, the other holding her shoulder seemed to fade as you and the red-haired woman infected one another with your feverish pleasures. You both shook as you rode the crest of the pet's orgasm together. Your needs fed hers. Her requirements fed yours, prolonging the flooding of your thighs. As your bodies gave up, nerves beyond feeling, utterly satiated as laboured breathing filled the room, he was with you again, taking you both into his warm embrace.
After several eternities, the breathing slowed and they became aware of each other again. The manor house pet moved until she once again rested against her Master's knee, the light from the candle flickering across the sheen of perspiration on her body. She extended her right hand towards you, beckoning. You lay down next to the pet and felt a hand on your shoulder and another on your naked belly. You knew not whose hand was whose and you cared not. All that you knew was that you had taken a step forward and was at one with them, that expectancy having given rise to an air of expectancy that you would never wish to dispel.
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