Thinking about how he had unveiled Lulu's breasts just naturally made him think of what had happened after that ... and the next day ... and he found himself impossibly stiff.
He didn't masturbate, though. Instead, he thought about the other woman in his memory.
Lola.
He could see her better in his mind's eye now. He knew he had kissed her lips and could feel that they had been lovers, though he couldn't remember that part yet. But even so, he knew already that he had never felt for Lola what he already felt for Lulu.
He smiled at the similarity between their names. That was the only similarity. He was absolutely sure of that. He couldn't articulate it, but he felt nothing for Lola. He felt
everything
for Lulu. Her acceptance of him was like stumbling upon a huge bag of gold or diamonds, something so eye-popping that the finder just couldn't believe it. He still had a hard time accepting that it was real.
He thought about her response during the day that followed what could only be called a night of torrid lovemaking. Everything about it had been precious. She had welcomed him, bare, into her inner depths ... had wailed her joy as he came to completion in her. That alone was a precious gift for any woman to give her lover.
His reverie was broken as he suddenly wondered if she was protected. He hoped so. The last thing he needed to do was complicate her life with an unplanned pregnancy. It was only natural to take that thought further and look, interestedly, at his inner reactions to that possibility. He was almost shocked to find that he'd almost demand to marry her if that happened. He was shocked by that both because he somehow knew he had resisted the idea of marriage thus far in his life and because he somehow knew she would resist his proposal, should he make it.
"This is crazy," he said aloud. "I've only known her a couple of months!"
He felt foolish for talking to an empty room. He could not deny that he felt more strongly for this amazing woman than he'd ever felt for any woman in his life. Even though he couldn't remember how he'd felt about any other woman, he knew it couldn't have been like how he felt about Lulu. It would be impossible to forget something like that, that had its seat deep in his soul.
He looked back at the screen. Where to go from here?
Quigley suddenly stood, one foot on either side of the duchess, who lay panting on the thick carpet. Her nipples were now dark red, rather than pink, because he had sucked at them for half an hour. She had continued to plead for him to stop, but her chest had arched up more than once.
"You may go," he said, stepping aside. He did not help her up.
"What?" She looked at him askance.
"I have never raped a woman," he said. "Not really. Oh, they've complained at my attentions, but, in the end, they were women and I was a man, and we did what came naturally to both of us."
"You're not going to ravish me?" She was obviously confused.
"I'll ravish you," he said, smiling. "But not yet. Do not wear a chemise under your dress again."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because each time I call you here I'm going to expose those lovely breasts and do what I did today. I don't want the chemise in the way."
She either shuddered or shivered, and seemed to realize the breasts under discussion were currently bare. She pulled her dress to cover them and sat up.
"You're toying with me," she accused.
"Most assuredly," he said.
"What will you do now?" she asked, warily.
"Mistress Constance has watched her mother being a woman," he said. "She watched a number of times and has begun to show curiosity about how her mother has reacted during that activity."
"But you promised Lady Tinsley you'd leave her daughter alone!"
Quigley wasn't surprised that the women talked together. It would have been only normal for them to confide in this woman.
"If the girl seeks me out ... if she is in heat ... why should I resist?" His lips made a very small smile. "Particularly when I have been inflamed by your considerable charms?" he added.
"You'd abuse a child because I resist you?" she asked, incredulous.
"She is no child, Duchess Clayworth. She is as much a woman as you are and her needs are the same as yours shall be someday soon."
"You mock me!" she yipped.
"I know women," he said simply. "You have no idea what the joys of the flesh are like. You have eschewed them these many years. There will come a time when you will regret that. It is simple truth."
"You mustn't ruin her!" insisted the Duchess of Fellborough.
"My sword is long and hard and demands to be sheathed in flesh," he said, rubbing the bulge at the front of his pantaloons.
"Take her mother again, if you must rut like a beast!" insisted the duchess. "She is already dismayed and cannot be dishonored more than you already have."
Quigley looked at the woman still sitting on the carpet, who didn't understand yet that Quigley planned on impregnating the Lady Tinsley before he returned her to civilization. Her daughter too, if possible. He put sorrow plainly on his face.
"You have no idea, do you?"
"What?" she asked.
"How you affect men," he explained. "Men, to you, are only laborers, business partners, or servants. You don't see them as male. Let me assure you, they recognize your femininity. You have driven many a man mad, I think. I feel it myself. It is only that I refuse to force you that has kept your honor intact this day. I must be compensated for such restraint and a willing young virgin will suffice, I think."
"You attempt to blackmail me!" she protested. "You blame me for the ruination of a poor girl!"
"Bare your breasts for me, Henrietta," he said calmly. "Bare them voluntarily and let me kiss them without resisting, and I will leave her alone."
"How can I do that?" she moaned. "You know I loathe you ... loathe your touch ... loathe your very presence."
"Tis but a small sacrifice to preserve the honor of ... that poor girl, as you name her."
Kris changed the tape, and reviewed what he'd written. The duchess had submitted ... eventually ... angrily. Quigley had refused to touch her and had continued to ruminate, out loud, about how delicious it would be to have a young virgin, until, in a state of total surrender, the woman in front of him had pulled her arms from the dress, leaving her entire upper torso bare. She had said a single word, softly, pleading: "Please."
She had been a shivering mass of almost hysteria when his lips finally left her turgid, over-stimulated nipples and drifted up her chest and across her chin. She had turned her head only once and then, with a sob, had not only let him kiss her, but had kissed him back. He had left it at only one long kiss as she trembled in his arms, her lips hungry against his, and had then made her redress, demanding that she straighten her clothing so no one could tell it had been awry.
She was obviously confused and distressed, as she was torn by relief that her ordeal was over, at least for the present, and the conflicting desire she felt to stay there and see what might happen next. She knew she would be called back to this room and that she would have to endure this again. She was appalled that something in her looked forward to that next meeting. As she left the cabin, rushing in a less than ladylike gait, she convinced herself that she was just proud she had saved Mistress Constance's virginity. She was so flustered that, when his hand slapped her behind as she left, she didn't even complain.
She might not have felt so good about it had she seen the feral smile on Quigley's lips as he watched her go.
"Not bad," said Kris to the empty room. "Not half bad, if I do say so myself."
He wanted to masturbate now, but resisted. He would save it for Lulu. He already knew that if he went home after work and continued to write, that boner would fuel the sex in his story. He also knew he'd have to go see Lulu the next afternoon. He decided he'd go when it was about time for Ambrose's nap.
"Hi!" Lulu's smile was both wide and genuine. "I was hoping you'd come over this afternoon."
Today she had on a red T shirt, with a rainbow from one breast to the other, a little monkey on it. The first thing Kris thought of was that she was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and that he had monkeying around on his mind.
"I couldn't have stayed away if I tried," he said, a little nervously. Things were going fast. It was too soon to think of words like "love," but he was thinking about them anyway.
"Did you write?" she asked, stepping back.
"I did," he said, interested that she would ask that question first. It must have showed, because she addressed what he was thinking.
"Hank gave me your message. Is any of it about me?"
She was like a kid in a candy store.
"It was all about you," he sighed. "I think I'm smitten with you."
"Good!" she said, clapping her hands.
His worries and fears fled. If they hadn't then, they would have when she kissed him.
"I wanna see!" she said, as she pulled away and licked her lips. "If you did well, I have a treat for you."
He handed her the flash drive. He tried to remember if his prick had softened since he'd left work and was hard again, or if thinking about her had kept it hard the whole time. He decided it was hard again, because he remembered it being soft after he'd slept.
He loitered around, standing behind her while she pulled up the new material and started reading, until she turned and pushed him gently, right on the lump in the front of his pants.
"Go play with Ambrose or something. I get nervous when someone reads over my shoulder." She gave him a little squeeze and he bent over.
"You're killing me, here," he moaned.
"I'll bring you back to life later," she said. "Now, go on. I have work to do."
He found Ambrose watching Veggie Tales on TV and settled in to watch with him. What had taken him hours and hours to write, she read over in thirty minutes. He knew she was done when she came in and plopped down on his lap. She leaned to put her lips right by his ear.
"I need nipple love right now," she whispered. "And it's all your fault."
"You're amazing," he sighed, reaching to cup one end of the rainbow on her chest.
"You have to wait," she said, kissing him.
"Ewwwww, Mom!" came Ambrose's plaintive cry. "You're kissing Kris!"
"And I'm gonna kiss you, too, you little goober!" she yipped, pushing against Kris' chest and bouncing up.
Ambrose pretended to be terrified and got up to run, but she caught him and he giggled as she "ate" his neck and rained kisses all over his face and head. She tickled him, too, and jumped as Kris slapped her on the ass again.
"Leave the poor child alone!" he ordered.
"It's okay," said Ambrose happily. "She acts like this a lot. I'm used to it." Lulu stood up and Ambrose cocked his head at her. "I never saw you kiss anybody else. Is Kris special? You always tell me I'm special when you kiss me."
"He
is
special!" said Lulu.
"Good. I like him," said the little boy. Then, as if nothing at all had happened, he plopped back down on the floor to continue watching cartoons.
Lulu stood, her eyes on Kris. She was rubbing her butt where he'd spanked her.
"Ow," she said softly.
"You had it coming, terrorizing a poor little boy like that."
She turned around and bent over, backing up and wagging her butt at him.
"You hurt me. Kiss it better."
"Here?" He grinned, leaning down.
"No," she said.
She danced out of the room, looking over her shoulder at him. He followed and she went straight to her bedroom. By the time he got there he was astonished to see her on the bed, on her hands and knees, with her olive green cargo pants and red panties down around her knees. He could actually see the outline of his hand print on her right cheek and felt bad, just for an instant, that he'd spanked her that hard. Then she waved her naked butt at him.
"Hurry. We can't leave him out there alone for long."
"You want me to kiss it." He said it with a flat voice.
"You hurt it. Kiss it better," she said, over her shoulder.
He couldn't believe it was happening. She was so casual about her sexuality, even when there was the threat that they might be discovered. Just then she let her head down on the bedspread and let her belly sag so that her sex was in plain sight. It inflamed him. He went to her and first kissed, then licked the handprint. It was inevitable that his tongue strayed from there and she moaned as his tongue flicked at her. She didn't see him loosening his own pants and freeing his manhood.
