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“True, but if I appear in a similar state of crumpled attire, we shall give ourselves away.”
“Indeed. Put your clothes on the hooks, so they don’t crease.”
He kissed her firmly on the mouth and proceeded to undress. Taking his coat, footman’s wig, shoes, and trousers off, he proceeded to untie his neckerchief and shirtsleeves. These he hung carefully to maintain appearances.
Naked, he moved back to the floor, his body a silhouette in the darkened room. The heavy timber, thick floor rug and racks full of clothes dampened the noise, protecting them further from discovery.
Jane lifted her skirt towards her thigh, as Mister Foote touched her skin. His warm hand on her knee sent pulses through her veins, making her quiver. He slid his palm upwards to the juncture of her thighs and she nearly passed out from the intimacy of it.
Mister Foote stopped the trajectory and gave her leg a gentle squeeze, “You can open your eyes, I won’t hurt you.”
“It’s… it’s not about that. I merely,” overcome with self-consciousness, she bit her bottom lip, the confessed, “I don’t know what all these sensations mean. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
He kissed her firmly on the lips, then created a trail of kisses down her chin, neck, and chest, then on top of each curved breast. His had rode up inside her skirt again and he cradled one buttock in his hand.
A gasp flew out.
“You are in control,” Mister Foote said, “My Lady.”
“Oh drat. That’s the problem.” Jane said as she raised her leg a little to give him better access. “I have no idea what I should be doing. I have never felt more out of control. Should I be enjoying this so much? It feels wrong.”
“I confess this feels delightful, and you are a respectable widow, how can it be wrong?”
“Please!” she cried, “this cannot be respectable.”
“Come here,” he rolled onto his back and pulled her fully-clothed body over his naked one. “Sit on me and you’ll soon work out how it’s done.”
With that, he rested his hands behind his head, leaving his supine body completely at her mercy.
Heat roared through Jane at how brazen this experience was becoming. Well, it needed to be done. A pang of something soft and wistful wormed into her heart at the sight of Mr Foote’s accepting nature and acquiescence. He gave himself so completely and willingly.
Jane wriggled, hitching her skirts up again. The darkness helped hide how furiously she must be blushing, judging by the heat stealing over her entire body. Soon she straddled him, shifting her body over his to explore the shape and scope of him. There was something hot and solid between her legs, and she sat on it. Wild and wicked sensations rode through her, as she pushed herself against him.
“Is this right?”
A staggered “Nearly,” was the reply.
“What am I doing wrong?”
“You’ll… work it… out.”
If felt good, but not quite good enough. As she moved herself back and forth, a warm reaction sent her muscles pulsing with need. She had her very sex rubbing against his. A warm slick developed, helping the process. Back and forth she moved, rubbing and pressing down, until she rode further up and reached the end of his cock. She pressed back over it, moving herself a little this way and that. It was making her body shudder with need, but there was still something out of reach. She placed a hand under her skirts and held his cock in place while she rode over it. As she pressed back, she found a new place that needed something more. Adjusting herself, she arched her back and wriggled around some more.
Mister Foote shuddered our a soft ‘Yessss,’ but he still didn’t help.
Some more wriggling and slipping and sliding had Jane’s breaths coming in shallow waves. Something else urgent built inside her, as she slid up and down him again. It wasn’t quite right though, and her willing partner seemed utterly unwilling to help at all. His hands were still firmly behind his head. She slipped her hand underneath her skirts to angle things more to her liking, pushing the tip of his cock against the heat of her sex.
She pressed down.
“Oh heavens!” she gasped as she moved all the way down.
Mister Foote shuddered and bucked underneath her, muttering, “You’re a natural.”
Chapter Five.
Lord and Lady Jardine were waiting in the sitting room. So were the three daughters. Jane must learn their names soon. She could not keep referring to each as ‘Miss Jardine’, as only the eldest turned when she said that.
Two footmen stood to attention each side of the dining room door. One of them was Mr Foote, and Jane took extra care not to look at either of them, for fear of giving away her… quite bewildering… secret.
