Lady Waverly's Lovers

Part 1

By

USA Today Bestseller

Jess Michaels

Part 1

Copyright © Jesse Petersen, 2015

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Dear Readers:

Please enjoy this collection of very erotic historical tales. Lady Waverly and her naughty guests are not related to any other stories in the Jess Michaels universe. They are closer to erotica than my usual erotic romances. They are simply very spicy exploits that I hope will warm you on these increasingly cold winter nights.

Happy Reading!

Jess Michaels

June 13, 1812

The time of year that thrills me like no other is upon us again. The time that Christopher and I host our annual country escape. The weeks leading up to the event are always the best of times for me. Choosing our guests. Picturing the entanglements they will find during the short time they are ‘joined’ with us, so to speak. Doing these things brings me to a level of arousal that even Christopher can barely slake.

This afternoon, I read over our final lists of guests. How I throbbed as I looked at those names. Pictured the lords and ladies who would be with us by tomorrow at this time. I could scarce contain myself. I lifted my skirts, letting my hands stroke over my thighs as I fantasized about the upcoming events.

In London we have our pleasures, of course. There are many to be found in a city that masquerades as proper, but is really full of sin and debauchery. But what we do there is nothing like the freedom of our yearly soiree. In London, one must be wary of whom one propositions. One must be aware of the eyes that are always watching, waiting to judge and destroy if they find the right ammunition. But for this one short time a year, all that fades away. Leaving only those who we carefully pick to join us.

My eyes seek the list again. Lord Osgood’s name is there, who likes to watch, who likes to take in public. When I picture his broad chest, his big hands… I cannot help but push my skirts up even higher and am greeted by a blast of heat coming off my wet pussy. Would he watch as my husband took me? Or would he want to have me over a chair in my dining room as the evening’s entertainment for our hungry guests?

Then there is Quintin Uppington. A well respected man in society, but few know his secret. That he prefers not only the company of women in his well-used bed, but men, as well. I admit that the idea titillates me. And I have the perfect plan to sample both his tastes at once. My clit throbs as I imagine the forbidden pleasures to be found there.

Little Diana Davinport will join our group for the first time this year. Though she is seemingly innocent and very much unfulfilled by her husband, my conversations with her have revealed a curious and passionate nature behind her innocent blonde hair and wide blue eyes. I know she has had at least one affair since her marriage and I have a feeling that our party will awaken the wanton in her even further. Christopher will much enjoy assisting in that awakening and I hope to watch it all, unfettered, from the secret observatory in our bed chamber. Her initial resistance, his sleek seduction will be a thing to behold, I am certain.

Christopher’s breath stirs my neck and his hand is suddenly covering mine as I let my fingers finally dance across my suddenly aching clit.

“Preparing for our guests, I see,” he whispers, his tongue so hot and wet against my ear. He presses down on my hand, pushing my fingertips into my hot, clenching pussy and making me moan out loud at the delicate invasion. “Will you give me a preview of what is to…” His eyes sparkle as he strokes over my slit, smoothing my folds away to bear me to our combined touch. “
Come
.”

I smile. I cannot help it as I look up at my handsome husband. I will play for a short while and I will watch as he does the same. But after it is over, I will wake every morning in his arms.

“With pleasure, Lord Waverly,” I murmur as I reach up to stroke the hard cock that is pushing against his breeches just inches from my face. Seeing that rigid outline makes my body grow even wetter. I hear the faint pop of my fingers as I pull them from my pussy. They shine in the sunlight as I unfastened his trousers and pull them around his hips.

His thick, hard cock springs free and Christopher lets out a harsh moan.

“So tell me, my love,” I whisper as I wrap my hand around his shaft and stroke him from base to head. “You have seen my list of guests. But have you invited a few surprises for me?”

Since we began this gathering three years ago, Christopher has always included at least one guest that is an utter surprise to me. A guest that desires something I have never given before. Or one that he knows will pleasure me. He tells me it is his gift to me. And I invariably anticipate that gift with the patience of a child on her birthday morn. This year is no different.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans as I dart my tongue out to taste the swollen head of his cock. The salty tang of his pre-cum makes my clit tingle with expectation and I know he is aching to feel my throat constrict around his girth. But I won’t give him that. Not yet.

“Christopher,” I press, looking up at him through a hooded gaze. “Did you prepare any surprises for me?”

“Yes Minx,” he growls as he threads his fingers into my hair. Pins clatter to the floor below, but I don’t care about their loss. I shove a few black curls away from my eyes with my free hand as he guides my mouth toward him. “There will be many wonderful surprises for you. But do not think you will tempt them from me with that wicked mouth of yours. Now suck me.”

I smile as I wrap my lips around his cock, feeling his hardness stretch my lips. Christopher has never been selfish about letting me have my pleasure. I have had the cocks of many men inside me, filling me. I have found pleasure in every encounter I have shared. But no man’s cock is like my husband’s. No man’s cock makes me come with just the thought of it filling me. Only his.

He pushes himself in deep until the head of him taps my throat. Until my lips are tickled by the crisp curls of hair at his base. Leisurely, I guide my tongue around the girth of him, rubbing the throbbing blue vein that is bulging on the underside of his delicious erection. His fingers clench and his head dips back against his shoulders as he grinds out my name between clenched teeth.

“Great God, Eve!”

I withdraw as slowly as he entered me, sucking him as inch after inch leaves my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the mushroom head of his cock and more of his pre-cum leaks against my tongue, a telling sign of how much he wants to come. How much pleasure I am giving him with these torturous movements.

The taste of him, the heady musk of his desire, the feel of him filling my mouth arouses me already, but as I take him in deep again, one hand moves away from my hair and glides down the apex of my body. With a flick of his wrist, he opens the buttons that run along the low neckline of my silken pink morning gown. His fingers delve past the gaping fabric and he finds a swollen nipple. His rough fingertips swirl over the sensitive flesh, plucking, stroking until a steady throb of thick, wet need courses between my thighs. I press them together, magnifying the ache as my mouth moves in earnest over his cock, taking him all the way in, withdrawing nearly his entire length.

His breath is coming in shallow bursts, but he continues to torment me. Skillful, he manages to wrest the gown away from my shoulders and shove it away. I wear no chemise beneath the gown, so I am nude from the waist up. His eyes speak volumes about his support of my lack of undergarments, as does the way his already steely erection seems to grow and harden in my mouth. He continues his torment of my breasts, moving from one to the other. And by the way his dark, emerald stare holds mine, I know he is fully aware of what these touches are doing to me. The way the shock of pleasure when he tugs at my nipple goes all the way to my clit.

I moan against his cock and the vibration makes him curse again.

“Fuck Eve, oh fuck.”

But he takes my brazen hint and lets his hand dip lower, twisting slightly to reach my thighs. My skirt is still pushed around my hips, so he has easy access to my aching core. He smiles as his fingers find the slick heat that is already rolling down my inner thighs.

“My naughty girl,” he practically purrs as he uses two fingers to part my folds.

The touch of his skin against my pussy is nearly enough to have me cream already, but I tense and try to wait. I want more. More pleasure. I want to prolong the sensation. I know if I can, then the orgasm that will follow will be even more earth shattering.

He is aware of the same. After three years of marriage, he knows all the secrets of my body. His fingers dart around my clit, rather than stroke it. He teases my flesh, letting just the tip of his fingers fill me, then exit, leaving my cunt clenching at emptiness and making me moan against his cock.

“You’ll make me come,” he warns, his voice husky and low and his breath quickening with each stroke.

His fingers delve inside my body even deeper this time and he crooks his index finger, stroking the mass of nerves that is hidden within my silky channel. Pleasure threatens to explode inside me and I groan again.

I know he’s going to come by the way his hips jolt his cock even farther into my throat, by the way his hand tightens in my hair. “Yes, Eve!” he gasps as his cock begins to pump wildly.

I take every drop of him deep into my throat, sucking as he pours himself into me. And he doesn’t ignore my needs, either. He crooks his finger again, then adds another as he comes, spreading me, filling me. My hips lift of their own accord, my clit tingles and he must sense it, for he covers it with his thumb and grinds against it in a slow circle.

The pleasure is too focused. Too much. I swallow the last drop of his seed and pull away from him, letting out a cry as the pleasure spirals into a white inferno and my body begins to shake uncontrollably. My hips buck as my orgasm goes on and on. And everything is suddenly focused on the quickening pace of his fingers.

He tilts my head up with the hand that is still in my hair, forcing me to look into his intense eyes. Making me see how much he loves to make me lose control. Making me see that I am at his utter mercy.

He slows the careful stroke of his thick fingers and my tremors begin to subside until they are little more than the occasional tremble. As he withdraws, I sag back on the chair, my head lolling. I watch as he lifts his fingers to his lips and sucks the juices of my release away. My body clenches a final time at that provocative sight.

“Oh yes, my darling,” he purrs as he leans down to kiss me before he pulls his breeches back up over his hips. “I do love our country party.”

Then he walks out, leaving me shattered by the intensity of the pleasure and anticipating the pleasures to come in the days ahead.

The pleasures I will document here. Every night. As I do each year.