Chapter 30
Alfred
Dear Henry,
I will not pretend that I am anything but completely lost.
Indeed, I understand if we have reached the end of our friendship. I do not want to harm you by our association.
Because not only have I exited our club—but I have done the necessary act many times over.
Further, I did not take your last post script to heart.
We were caught. And now that there is no need for subterfuge, I am living with her.
I needn’t say, of course, that we are unmarried.
If you cannot write me, I will not be affronted. The bonds of friendship can only extend so far. I only wanted to write you so that you may hear it from me.
Your friend,
Alfred
After informing Henry of what happened and knowing he will tell the others, I have no further concerns.
Certainly, I cannot write the same to my father—I will have to wait for him. And in truth I am not eager to hasten his discovery of my public disgrace.
Then I send word to Mr. Peabody to carry out my duties. He replies with a quick affirmative in response.
And then I promptly forget about the outside world.
Instead, I spend the next days completely immersed in Annabelle.
We see no one.
The servants are told to leave us alone.
No visitors come.
Outside, the tale of our illicit relationship must be spreading.
But I cannot care.
Because the truth is that we revel. There is no other word for it.
We dine and sup and fuck and walk in the gardens.
I lose myself in her.
One afternoon, in the chill air of late fall, we sit under a massive tree in the gardens. With the auburn leaves strewn all around, we cling to each other for warmth.
We have had each other constantly, but I want more. I always do.
And I have kept my promise to her. The one I made after our encounter in the study. I have been careful. I have withdrawn and not spent inside of her. I want to protect her.
We have been lounging on a blanket for an hour, doing nothing but talking and laughing and lying close.
Her pile of erotic books lies beside us—my green book among them.
We have been looking over them together and pointing out the passages and images that we like.
My green book is a rather tame affair next to some of the ones that she owns.
Still she has been very curious what passages I find most arousing.
She laughs when she sees where the book opens most readily.
As she laughs at one such discovery, I have the sudden urge to weep.
And I know the reason. Over these past few days, for the first time in my life, when I have felt desire, I haven’t needed to feel fear as well. With Annabelle I can express my urges—I can find satiation and, in fact, joy. I needn’t dread the pain to come when I feel the quickening of lust.
“Mmm, my love,” I say, my mouth at her ear. “I want you again.”
“Do you?” she says in her characteristic cool manner. But I know now that she is not as indifferent as she sounds.
“That is why you brought me out here, is it not?”
Thus far, we have done nothing more than lie close and admire the way the branches hang above us.
She checks the little watch she keeps in her pocket and then puts it away, even though I am not aware of any restriction on her time today.
She kisses me, letting our tongues play together, and my body surges and hardens.
She undoes the placket of my trousers as she kisses me. She begins to stroke my cock with her hand and soon I am gasping.
From the sweet simplicity of her touch, tears prickle behind my eyes.
Then without speaking she pushes me back, rises above me, straddles me, and takes me inside of her.
My cock is buried in her wet heat. The contrast between that warm intimacy and the cold world around us, so chilly and beautiful, soothes and riles my senses.
If anyone happened upon us right now, they would know they saw two lovers, but they might not know that I am buried inside of her.
“How fast do you think I can make you come, Alfred?” she asks.
A wicked grin plays across her face.
I groan in return.
“Are you intent upon embarrassing me? Does it delight you to reduce me to nothing?”
“Perhaps,” she says, riding me in a smooth rhythm.
I cry out at the sensation.
“Your cock is perfect, you know.”
It might be her first truly ardent statement to me. I swell inside of her. I obtain that impossible hardness that threatens my spend.
Then she says my name over and over and over again as she moves up and down on me. Her beautiful pussy clenches tighter and drives me nearer to my release.
“I want—" I say between gasps and nearly completely overwhelmed, “—to give you—to please you—"
“You are—” she says. “This is what pleases me.”
She tips forward, placing both of her arms on my chest. She rises up so that her core tantalizes just the head of my cock.
Then holding that position, she moves up and down so that my cock moves in and out of her entrance, lavishing particular attention on that most sensitive part of my anatomy.
The sensation is exquisite and incredibly intense and within moments I can take no more.
“Oh God, Annabelle. I can’t—I must withdraw—”
I try and move her off of me, but she bears down instead—and it is too late.
I come. My spend releases with force, filling her as if all of me were desperate to reach further into her, to claim more of her. I finish with another cry, everything obliterated but the feel of her.
She moves off me then.
And then she pulls the watch from her pocket again.
“A minute and a half,” she says with a laugh. “Well, it is not bad. I suppose I could do better.”
“You timed me,” I say, indignation flooding me.
“It was a little challenge to myself. To see how quickly I could make you spend.”
I feel a little humiliated—and yet very aroused.
“Does that delight you? How easily you can master me?”
“Yes,” she says. “It does.”
“I spent inside of you, Annabelle. I broke my word.”
I am anxious she will be cross with me.
Instead she merely shrugs.
“Do not worry.”
I find her stance on this matter perplexing. She claims not to want a child. And yet we are doubtlessly tempting fate.
But I have made my feelings clear.
“Very well,” I say, shaking off my confusion and taking the little silver watch from her hand.
“Now that you have set your record, I should also try my own hand,” I say, smirking at the plan that has unfurled within my mind.
“You are attempting to beat my time?” she says, her voice all cool challenge. “Pray, I don’t think that will be possible. First, because I cannot be beaten. Second, because with what tool will you now try to vanquish me?”
“Oh, I think you know, madam,” I say, moving up her skirts with my hands.
“But you just came inside of me, Alfred.”
“And so?”
“Many men do not care to taste a woman after they have spent in her.”
I had not considered that. But the idea does not repulse me. The idea that I would taste myself on her gratifies me greatly.
“I have no such concern,” I say, pushing her back gently and bringing her skirts over her knees.
“Alfred, are you really—”
I place my mouth close to her core.
“Let us see if I can break your record. It is only sporting of you to let me try.”
And then I put my mouth to her clit and slip two fingers into her channel.
She gives a little gasp. Then with ferocity, I tongue her, hardly moving my fingers but using them to create a pressure, a firmness, I know she likes.
After about thirty seconds of such attention—I count in my head—she is tight around my fingers. Her body is tense beneath me, and I delight in the prospect that I will beat her at this little game. I continue my efforts and she begins to moan and pant and swear.
“You will not beat me,” she says, even as I feel that she is close.
I realize that she is trying to fight off her own spend.
I can’t suppress a chuckle.
“Annabelle,” I purr. “Just give in.”
I resume my ministrations, stroking and licking and fucking her with my fingers. Soon she cannot stop her nearing spend, no more than I can stop my amusement at her stubbornness.
“Fuck,” she says. “No, I won’t.”
But she comes anyway, crying out raggedly. Her quim convulses on my tongue.
I check the watch lying on the blanket.
“A minute and twenty seconds,” I say. “Upon my honor, I beat you.”
She snatches up the watch and looks at it.
“It isn’t fair,” she snaps. “I was already—closer from having you inside of me.”
“I can make the same complaint,” I tease. “For I am always aroused when I am with you. Any time that you make me spend indecently quickly, it is because I’ve already been tantalized to extremity by your presence.”
“It is not the same,” she says with a huff.
I draw her to me and kiss her on the temple.
“Don’t be cross,” I murmur. “Perhaps we will have to conduct the experiment a few more times to see who is truly the master in this matter. I am willing to repeat it as often as you like.”
A week ago it would have been impossible to be this familiar, this carefree, with her. It would have been incomprehensible that I wouldn’t have shrunk back at any sign of her displeasure. But our recent intimacy has changed everything. Even as she pouts, I know it is not serious.
“I challenge you,” I continue, “to a best of three. Or let’s make it five. So that we may really determine the winner.”
“Very well,” she sniffs. “But do not think you will beat me on every occasion. I will go second next time and then you can see how you fare under such circumstances.”
“I welcome the challenge,” I say, turning her head to me a little roughly and kissing her deeply.
When she returns my kiss, I feel that I have won something very precious indeed.