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The Mistress continued. ‘Do not be alarmed, you are both to leave and together. Do you remember that splendid occasion of Lady Chatterton’s wedding?’ I nodded, mute with anxiety. ‘It is my intention to replicate it for you, for Maria has asked for your hand and I have agreed. Do not cry, silly girl, this is an occasion of deep happiness.’ Tears were running freely down my cheeks, tears of unalloyed joy. ‘Your joint fortune is more than adequate for you to live in comfort in the abode of your choosing. You will together find such an abode during a visit to Dorsetshire that Maria has decided will be your place of residence. There you will have a small household which I shall supply and I shall occasionally send some of our guests to visit you, that they might enjoy the country air, recuperate from their travails and enjoy the pleasures that we offer here but in a more remote setting. And thus it was that at the age of 39 I moved from Mistress Pickles's house with my lover and took. I slowly kissed her sexy full lips, light sensitive touches that slowly turned more urgent, passionate, teasing her tongue with mine. My hands gently touched her outer thighs moving slowly up and down until they made their way to her sensitive inner thighs which she parted slightly. My fingers teased the skin, small circles as my hand moved higher, a finger trailing along that part where the leg meets her crotch until my hand brushed against her pussy making her gasp. I told her to feel me, to discover, to explore which she did. Her touch was not experienced but gentle, arousing, hungry. The fact that she was experiencing all this for the first time was incredibly exciting, intoxicating. I wanted her to feel aroused...very aroused. I wanted to make her body to ache with desire, I wanted her to feel a sexual hunger, a need. I wanted her to relax and feel highly sexed, to feel that burn, that ache inside her. I wanted her body and mind to feel things she had only imagined about. For it.
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