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“My turn for a little fun,” he said playfully. Sitting astride her belly, but without putting any weight on her, he bent and kissed her rouged lips. “Open your mouth wider.” He leant forward, lifting his body up. Dropping his flap front down, he released his thick cock and touched the head of it to her lips.
With a groan of delight, he let his cock slip into her mouth, as far as her soft palate. “Suck it sweetly, my dearest, and I will fill your belly with my fire.”
Alice writhed beneath, knees drawn up to his back, her hands gripping his firm thighs. Each dip and rise of his cock in her mouth, she drew her cheeks in and sucked him hard. Her tongue curled about his tip, her teeth bared painlessly against his shaft. Finding a rhythm to their joining, Edmund felt his balls ache with the need to deliver and he withdrew, grasped his shaft and with a few brisk jerks of his hand, spurted out on her tongue.
To his delight, Alice swallowed his hot milk with no display of disgust, instead she licked her lips and sighed, eyes drooping. Covering her with a blanket, he lay next to her warm, smooth skin and kissed her into a state of sleep. Lying back, staring up at the canopy above his head, he was consumed with a glowing sense of satisfaction. Bar the silly rumour mongering, and the unfortunate incident over Miss Fanshawe, Alice had been the queen of the dance. Her beauty had been noticed by many, and in private, Edmund had received many compliments.
With a grin on his face, a proud Edmund joined his wife in a deep dreamless sleep.
* * *
A week later, Alice received a reply to her letter to Caroline Fanshawe. The lady, with tactful courtesy, thanked Alice for her kind words and assured Mrs Seymour she didn’t hold any acrimony towards Alice. She had been well aware of the rumours about her correspondence and always chose to ignore it, hence her departure from the Assembly Rooms. She invited Alice to visit her and her brother, Frederick, and take tea with them.
‘Any friend of dear Edmund’s will always be ours too.’
The statement moved Alice. Edmund, pleased with the birth of a new friendship, urged her to go.
“She is a respected lady. This gossip will never deter her true friends. In the absence of your mother, Miss Fanshawe will be a good companion and chaperone in my absence.”
Alice smiled and picked up her ink pen, dipping into the inkwell, she fashioned a suitable reply of acceptance, while her husband beamed with approval.
Chapter Eight
“No.”
A simple one-word answer and Alice’s shoulders slumped upon hearing it. She wasn’t surprised by her husband’s refusal to host the visit of three of her friends, so rather than blurt out disgruntled words of discontent, which would elicit nothing more than a frown, she sighed and continued to thread her needle. She could not help wonder what chance she had at hosting a ball if he wouldn’t allow her to invite her friends to stay.
Edmund returned to reading his Manchester Gazette.
Alice waited a suitable passage of time punctuated by the swinging pendulum of the mantelpiece carriage clock.
“May I invite Ann Parris? On her own, she is quite meek.” Alice paused in her stitching. She would have preferred Lucy, but it was impossible to invite one sister without the other and together they were a boisterous pair. Ann, although somewhat subdued in nature, had a greater intellect in conversation.
“Miss Parris,” Edmund lowered his paper. “Tall.”
“Yes, and a little clumsy too, I might add, but kind and thoughtful. She has no sisters and three younger brothers, who do occupy much of her parents’ time. I believe the rod is not spared in the Parris household,” added Alice with a mischievous smile.
“I should imagine it is not,” concurred Edmund with a faint hint of amusement.
Alice paused in her crewelwork. “Do you think a time will come when the rod is spared in this house?” She didn’t look at Edmund.
“It has b
een spared this past week, has it not? Since the dance, I’ve no call to even mention the need to spank you,” remarked Edmund.
The welts from the nettles had vanished quickly, leaving her only the memory of their application. How she had been bent over and had her buttock cheeks spread wide apart by his firm fingers. The dreadful stings, which had accompanied the sweep of the leaves, prickled and burnt. The astonishing act of discipline, conducted in a confined space, left an indelible imprint on her mind. The raw emotions remained too. The shame of her punishment she did not wish to dwell upon. However, other more buried sentiments lingered too. She recollected his tender attentions afterwards, his keenness to have her and how his finger entered her tight hole, sending her into a place of bliss. She tried hard not to blush at the reminiscence.
She re-focused on the conversation. “I do not believe you have had any cause to use it, sir,” said Alice softly. “Though, I have on occasion wondered if I should find a reason for you to use it.” Her skin flushed with colour at the temerity of her own words. Why she yearned for the attention of his firm hand on her bared bottom, she could not fathom. Just sitting opposite her husband, in close proximity, made her skin tingle with anticipation. It did so most evenings they spent together.
Alice glanced up at Edmund, expecting to see a face of disapproval or even disgust. She saw neither; the faint expression of mirth remained fixed on his face.
“I do hope you will not fall back to your old ways, Mrs Seymour, after such a period of improvement,” he said sharply.
“It certainly is not my intention, Mr Seymour,” said Alice sheepishly. “I do think I might stumble upon occasion. Rather like an unsteady horse or faltering toddler. Then, might you pick me up and set me straight again? In a fashion of your pleasing, naturally.”
“My dear, as I have said before, you are a strange creature. If you wish me to spank you, why not simply ask?” Edmund chuckled.
Alice felt the rush of hot blood to her features. “I… would find it difficult to speak those words if you were not expecting them.”
