Chapter 4
To be fair, it wasn’t the first time a man had offered his wife to Dick Stone. But this was most certainly the first time a husband had offered him his own former fiancée.
“You wish to engage my services,” said Edward, hoping to get the question of money squared away. He had no doubt that Phily was a fine ride, but he was a man of business now and needed to pay for his lodgings.
“Indeed,” said the duke, tucking himself back into his trousers with a satisfied flourish. “My darling Phily has gotten herself into something of a mess. She’s been playing deep, and upon further examination, it seems she has done so because she is bored.”
He lowered into a chair; His Grace was nothing if not graceful.
“I have not been fucking her enough. It is a struggle at my advanced age,” he said, only the faintest lines showing around his eyes when he smiled.
Dratted man. He didn’t even have the decency to age like a mortal.
“Therefore, I’d like to engage your services to play her deep.
Should breeding occur, all the better. I know another pregnancy will occupy her somewhat and keep her from the Faro tables. ”
For her part in this play, Phily pouted. Whether it was at the hiring of Dick Stone, the prospect of another pregnancy, or her husband’s attempts to take cards out of her hands, Edward couldn’t fathom.
“You agree to this?” asked Edward of Phily, still finding this a ludicrous turn of events.
“Oh, Edward, you do not know how I suffer!” whined Phily, weeping into an oversized lace handkerchief she’d somehow summoned out of thin air. It was all so theatrical that he looked closer at her until she moved the cloth aside and sent him a delighted wink.
God in heaven, these two were a matched pair.
For his part, the duke sat back with immense satisfaction, seemingly aware of exactly what his wife got up to right before his eyes. Which was reassuring, since to miss the signs would point to an alarming senility in one of the foremost members of the House of Lords.
“But I must accept my lord husband’s demands,” she sighed, “as I have, after all, accrued considerable debts through my gambling. Do with me as you will!” She threw her arms wide, and Edward stifled a laugh.
“Well, there you have it,” said the duke, slapping his thighs. “One breeding to be conducted immediately. What do you say to a figure of—” and named a sum that would pay for both his lodgings and Tencendor’s for the next month. All in all, a fair deal.
It was handled most elegantly, as expected from one of the finest families in the land. Until it came time for the breeding to begin.
Phily had adjourned to an inner chamber, where a lady’s maid assisted her with getting undressed. Edward took a seat opposite the duke, waiting for him to depart. Which he did not do.
Now, it wasn’t unheard of for a husband to observe or even take part in a breeding, but given their history, Edward hadn’t accepted the job with the possibility of his watching in mind.
The duke clearly intended to watch. He’d crossed his legs, taken a pinch of snuff, and scribbled a few notes in his commonplace book. It seemed Dick Stone was to have an audience.
When Phily emerged from her inner sanctum wearing nothing but a sheer dressing gown, Edward set aside any doubts he might have had about his ability to get — and stay — hard.
The woman who had been a diamond of the first water had blossomed into a lush beauty with all the curves to demonstrate she’d birthed every one of those babies in the Duke’s nursery.
Edward’s fingers longed to press into her rounded hips and cradle the place she’d carried her children.
If she’d been tempting in her youth, she was verging on the divine now.
“Very nice, my dear,” said the duke to his wife, clearly just as taken with her. “But you are in a good deal of trouble and should prepare yourself for punishment, not show off the wares. I suppose that’s expected of a slut. On the chaise; hands and knees.”
Phily let the fine garment slip to the floor, revealing her nude body to both men before she arrayed herself on the chaise nearest to Edward, her arse up and at a perfect height for a quick rogering.
Well, if she had to be so agreeable, he’d just have to stick his cock in her.
“She bends right over like an école novice,” said the duke with some pride. “Wouldn’t know she’s a duchess from that view, would you?”
Edward made his way to where Philadelphia awaited his attentions. He surveyed her pert arse, pulled her cheeks apart to survey her little holes from the back, and ran a finger down her crack to test her wetness. She was most certainly ready for him, based on his observations.
“Give her cunt a slap,” suggested the duke from his chair as if recommending that he try the Brussels sprouts. “Right on the lips. Loves it, my girl does.”
Edward wasn’t in the habit of delivering slaps while engaging in the noble act of breeding those in need, but he found it hard to resist when Phily wiggled her arse as if she’d enjoy nothing more.
When his hand made contact, she squealed and spread her legs further to him. Edward also wasn’t in the habit of listening to men call their wives names, but Her Grace seemed to revel in every instance of being called — and acting like — a slut.
While not new to either the breeding business or rogering ladies, Edward struggled with his falls, such was the wealth of eroticism displayed before him. When he got his cock free, he didn’t wait to set it at the entrance of Phily’s hole.
And then he watched her push back and swallow his shaft into her hungry little cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” he rasped, watching her suck him in, her little puss stretching to take every bit of his staff.
Phily was gracious enough to wail like he was sporting a club of gargantuan proportions. (He was most certainly not; part of Dick Stone’s appeal to the upper classes was the respectability of his dress, manners, and cock dimensions.)
“Shove it in her,” said the duke, relaxed in his chair and arms loose despite the provocative sight of his young wife being rogered by another man.
While a less elevated gentleman, say, might have his cock out or exhibit some reaction to the proceedings, the duke conducted himself with an icy hauteur.
It was almost as if he were detached from the sight before him. Detached from his wife.
Edward looked down at Phily’s unmarked back and sweet little arse cheeks, absorbing his thrusts so well. She didn’t seem sad, precisely. Why, she was as merry and clever as ever.
And then he recalled her, in a moment of unguarded babbling after she’d consumed a good deal of champagne, detailing her study of mathematics. More specifically, probabilities.
The sort of probabilities that would give a lady a considerable advantage when playing cards. And wagering money.
He squinted at Phily, wondering what she was up to, then cast a glance at her husband, who regarded their coupling with the same expression one might see at a museum before a landscape.
Her Grace gave his cock a squeeze, then looked back at Edward, sending him a wink.
Edward’s cock grew harder, signaling that he’d stumbled on some truth. He set his fingers to her nub and rubbed without finesse, sensing that this interlude would soon be at its end.
The Duchess of Chevaliermont was purposely losing at cards. Purposely losing so she’d have to endure a so-called punishment of being fucked by Dick Stone.
His shaft jerked within her tight clasp, and he loosed his sack, pouring his spend into the woman who — in another life — would have been his wife.