Craving Absolution Part 2

I explained that due to a drought of intimacy I had been reduced to imagining matters of love

Catch up

Part One: Male POV by Cousin Pons can be read here…

Part One: Female POV by May More can be read here…

Part Two: Male POV by Cousin Pons can be read here…

Settling into the comfort of my chamber, I wondered what had possessed me to speak out to Vouvray in such a fanciful way.

I knew he did not possess the authority to hear a confession but what I desired was the closeness such overt, honest admission would surely bring. My body and mind ached for proper companionship. It is unbearable to be blighted with an aged husband. He cannot provide the particular intimacies for which all young women yearn. Alas, the mere thought of his touch chilled my bones.

After straightening my gown and with a quick pinch of my cheeks I entered Vouvray’s room without the courtesy of knocking, hastening to establish a familiarity between us from the first.

As we engaged in conversation I was immediately assured by the natural ease that arose between us.

‘I trust your room is to your liking?’ His voice held a genuine concern.

Sipping my wine any reservations were cast aside, so throwing caution to the wind -

‘It will serve me well… As will you, I hope.’

I swooned slightly, surprised by my brazen delivery. My bosom rose in tandem with the increased respiration.

Noticing, he busied himself by drawing the damask curtains.

Continuing, I explained that due to a drought of intimacy I had been reduced to imagining matters of love, leading me to partake of lusty pleasure from my own fair hand.

Vouvray’s glance at me was a mixture of desire and confusion. He stoked the fire as I demonstrated, over my clothes, the depths of depravity to which I had sunk, and why I needed absolution.

The explicit conversation that ensued led me to caress my breasts to emphasise my immorality.

Eyeing me fixedly, with sincerity lacing his every word he assured me, ‘It is only natural Milady. This is not sinning. This is pleasure.’

I felt moisture tease my plump thighs as he placed his mouth on the nape of my neck. There was no hesitation now; we made short work of my robes until I stood in the glow of the fire in simply my chemise, stockings and stays. My heart palpitated as he loosened the ties, causing my full breasts to topple conveniently into his strong hands. Enthusiastically fondling them before turning his attention to removing a few of his own garments, such as a very gaily coloured waistcoat. Then he pushed me gently back onto the sheets, an urgency underlying his manner. Not without knowledge of carnal practices, I provocatively inched up my shift until my sex was before his eyes. Tickling it with his tongue, he momentarily afforded me tinctures of pleasure. Wanton, I pushed my fleshy slit firmly against his mouth and he took full advantage to please me.

We abandoned our remaining garments. I sat on the edge of the bed in anticipation, feigning to avert my gaze, but the sight of his substantial, upstanding manhood did not disappoint. The mere promise of it threw me onto all fours. Spreading myself open I requested immediate intrusion. I could wait no longer. I needed physical absolution aplenty.

Such pleasure was mine, I gave him license to make good use of our romp. The bed shook and only stopped when he dismounted and filled my mouth with his instrument. My supple lips massaged and preened until it was as stiff as wood again.

Finally, when his time came, he anointed my breasts with his fluid and proceeded to absolve me completely. Already inflamed, the centre of my senses required only a little stroking before I brought on that critical ecstasy — writhing and whimpering beneath my own hand.

Whispering,

‘Thank you, my lord, for your unction and your absolution,’

I fell into a deep slumber, drained by the outcome of the evening.

This tale is linked to the Wicked Wednesday meme.

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