A Ducal Surprise

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoy the final installment of Cynthia's story! I already have some ideas for Pembroke's story and I'm looking forward to putting them on paper. I've categorized this in Group Sex since people seemed to have a hard time with the last installment going into Loving Wives. I've submitted a category change for that, so hopefully it will happen soon. In the meantime, happy reading!

The week after Lady Barlestone's ball passed in a blur of emotional torment and sexual delight for Cynthia, Duchess of Norland. Her husband's friends, the Dukes of Stamford and Pembroke, seemed to be everywhere she and Jeremy went, and they continued to put her in compromising positions.

During another ball, Stamford led her into Lord Wolvey's darkened study where she sucked his enormous cock while on her knees. It was as proportionately long and thick as he was tall and broad, and her pussy had flooded with moisture while she worshiped his enormous prick with her lips and tongue, imagining it stretching her tight cunt to the brink.

Then Pembroke fingered her to an orgasm in a secluded corner down a deserted hallway during a musicale, her skirts lifted while he whispered filthy encouragement in her ear. Her climax came at the same time as the symphony's, and the strains of the violins had covered her quiet gasps and moans.

Neither of the men had any compunction about touching her in public; secret brushes of their fingers against her nipples, her bum, the sensitive skin of her neck when no one else was looking. Pembroke had even cupped her under the table at a dinner party, rubbing her through her dress as she tried not to squirm. They hadn't fucked her pussy yet, but she only felt a very small sense of relief about that. After all, it didn't seem like it would be long before she would have to cross that line as well.

And every night, as soon as they arrived home, Jeremy would fuck her hard and long, making her come over and over. Sometimes, afterwards, Cynthia would turn her face into her pillow and indulge in a few tears, releasing her pent-up anxiety and remorse.

She had no one to turn to. Her mother was out of the question--Lady Linley would not only be unhelpful, she would most likely fall into strong hysterics. There was no way Cynthia could confide in her few friends, either. They were all as innocent as she had been before her marriage and would be scandalized beyond belief by her behavior.

The daughter of a lowly baronet marrying the Duke of Norland had been one of the biggest social coups of the decade, and Cynthia couldn't believe she was endangering it with her infidelity.

But she didn't know how to stop it. Every time Pembroke or Stamford ordered her to her knees, or to spread her legs, she obeyed with an increasing eagerness. Having three attractive, powerful Dukes attend to her every sexual need was irresistible. Even throughout her guilt and mortification, she couldn't help feeling a vain conceit at being so desired by the three most coveted men of the

ton

.

And the pleasure! She had never felt as full of lust before, even during those first three weeks after the wedding, when Jeremy was initiating her to all of the delights of the marriage bed. Now, Cynthia was always wet, her nipples always sensitive, her thoughts always on who would do what to her next. Her mind constantly wandered throughout the day, imagining the next nasty, debauched act, and wishing for it to come at the same time as dreading it.

The threat of discovery kept her in a constant state of arousal and fear, but she must have been successful at hiding her feelings. At any rate, Jeremy did not seem to notice her distress, for which she was enormously thankful. Theirs had not been precisely a love match, but she felt loyalty and an increasing affection for him. Her sense of wrongdoing grew as her knowledge of him grew. He was a good man; he did not deserve an unfaithful wife!

One morning over breakfast a little over a week from that night at Lady Barlestone's ball, Jeremy interrupted the guilty whirl of thoughts plaguing her mind as she mechanically ate her toast and stared out the window.

"I have some business to attend to at one of my smaller estates, Atherstone House. You will join me and we shall depart tomorrow."

"Oh! So soon, Jeremy?" Cynthia put down her toast and immediately began composing a list in her head of all the routs and balls to which they had accepted invitations. There would be a lot of disappointed hostesses in the coming week when they received Cynthia's letters of regret.

"Have Simmons pack for a week," he continued. "I don't intend to make a long stay of it, just long enough to be sure the steward understood my instructions and to see them carried out as I wish."

Atherstone House was only half a day's ride from town, but it seemed far enough away that Cynthia felt a surge of relief at being able to escape the other Dukes' attentions for a whole week.

Then Jeremy added, "Oh, and of course Stamford and Pem will be there, too. In fact, I've asked Stamford to take you there in his carriage; I won't be able to leave town until later in the morning and I'm sure you would wish for an earlier start."

A stab of anxiety lanced through Cynthia as she stammered, "There's no need to put Stamford out, Jeremy. I can easily wait for you."

"No, I've already decided," Jeremy said dismissively, returning to his newspaper. "You will go with Stamford." His note was final.

********

Cynthia sat in the large town coach across from Stamford as they bumped along the road. He had read

The Times

as they wended their way through the crowded streets of London while she had fidgeted and stared out the window, her heart beating hard in nervous anticipation. Now, as the scenery changed to rolling green hills and wide fields and they left the city behind, Stamford neatly folded the newspaper and put it away.

Cynthia watched his precise movements with trepidation, wondering what he would ask of her. It was silly to hope that he would

not

ask something of her, she thought. It was also silly to deny that she was looking forward to it, her pussy already moist and hot.

"I have been wondering something, Duchess," Stamford said as he put one booted foot over his knee and leaned back, looking ever at ease and relaxed. "Do you ever touch yourself?"

"Touch myself, sir?"

Stamford gave her a patient smile. "Let me put it another way, my dear. Have you ever put your fingers in or on your pussy and given yourself pleasure?"

Cheeks burning at his explicitness, Cynthia shook her head. "No, why would I?"

Stamford smiled. "Norland does not leave you wanting, does he? You never feel the need for more than he can provide?"

"Oh no, sir," said Cynthia. "He is most attentive in that... respect."

"Come now, Duchess. The days are long and Norland is a busy man. Tell me honestly, you've never felt an unrelieved ache?"

Cynthia pressed her lips together. How could Stamford know that there

were

times when Norland was closeted away in his study for long hours or when he was attending to his duties in Parliament, that she felt a little neglected? But even when her pussy was drenched and her nipples were straining at her bodice, she had never attempted to pleasure herself. It seemed so wrong, to want more than her husband could give her. Especially now when she was receiving so much unexpected sexual attention from two other men.

Again, she shook her head. "I've never done that." There, at least, she was innocent, despite all of her other sins in the past week. Her innocence was not to last long, however.

Stamford smiled his mischievous grin. "Then we shall have to change that, won't we? Lift your skirts, Duchess."

Cynthia obeyed readily, as she always did the three Dukes' commands. She took hold of the fabric of her skirts, and slowly slid the layers of her dress, petticoats, and chemise up and over her thighs.

"Spread your legs. Lean back on the squabs. Put your feet here." Stamford patted the space on either side of him. Cynthia had long legs, and they easily reached across the narrow space between the seats as she rested her feet where he had directed and widened her knees.

If anybody chanced to look in the carriage window right now, they would see her baring herself shockingly to a man not her husband. The thought made her pussy even wetter and she licked her lips as Stamford raked his gaze over her appreciatively.

"Such a very pretty pussy," he said. "Now use your fingers and see what it feels like."

It was a relief to slide her fingers through her needy cunt, it was so swollen and aching for touch. Cynthia marveled at the smooth feel of her folds, silky with her moisture. As she found her clit, engorged and throbbing, she let out a breathy moan. When things became a little sticky, she bit her lip and dipped her fingers into her dripping slit, coating them with more of her honey.

Stamford had placed his hand over the swell in his crotch, and he gripped himself at times through his trousers as he continued to direct her in a deep, harsh voice.

"Rub your little bud in circles. Harder, but don't come. Keep going... Now put two fingers in your pussy. Deeper. Fuck yourself, Duchess. Stop now, keep your fingers as deep inside as you can. Now curl them. Can you feel that?"

Cynthia's eyes rolled up as she found a sensitive spot on the front wall of her cunt. "Oh God!" she cried out, forgetting for a moment the coachman sitting atop the carriage box.

Her left hand was scrabbling on the seat cushion beside her as she fingered her hot pussy with her right. It all felt so good and she was trembling from the pleasure, right on the edge of coming. Stamford seemed to know that she was about to cross over the point of no return, and commanded her to stop. She trembled and panted with her fingers buried in her cunt but he ordered her not to move them.

"Oh, please, Stamford, please, I'm so close!" she begged. She could feel her skirts getting damp beneath her bum as the carriage continued to bowl along the road.

"You want to make yourself come, Duchess?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Ah, but we have many more miles to go, Duchess. Take your hand out of your pussy." At this, Cynthia whimpered, but did as she was told, reluctantly sliding her fingers out of her pulsing flesh.

For the next hour, Stamford extended the blissful torture. He made her suck her juices off her fingers, unbutton her traveling costume and play with her nipples, then frig herself again. Her petticoats became soaked beneath her and a fine sheen of sweat covered her body as the Duke played with her pleasure like an expert musician, conducting each one of her movements just as a maestro conducts an orchestra.

Finally, Cynthia couldn't take it any more and began furiously rubbing her clit, knowing she was seconds away from coming. But Stamford was too quick for her, leaning forward and shackling her wrists at her sides with his hands in a lightning fast movement.

"Naughty, naughty girl," he said, grinning all the while. "Just for that, I'm not going to fuck you after all."

Cynthia nearly sobbed in frustration at the revelation that he was indeed planning on fucking her with his huge cock. She ineffectually struggled against his iron hold. "No, please, I want it. Stamford, please, I want you to fuck me with your giant cock!" she begged.

"No, Duchess, you've lost that opportunity," he said, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Now you have to make me come using just your mouth, seeing as you're not to be trusted with the full use of your hands. If you can satisfy me, then perhaps I'll let you come, too."

Throughout the carriage ride, Stamford had been massaging his thick bulge over his trousers, denying Cynthia the added pleasure of seeing his delicious cock. Now, he released it from its confines and she salivated at the sight of it, hard as a rock and dripping precum, the round head as shiny and enticing as a candied apple. Each time she saw his huge member, she was struck anew by its girth and length, matching his own massive stature. More than anything, she wanted to feel that enormous cock stretching her tight pussy, but for now, she would take what she could get.

Taking hold of her wrists again, Stamford pulled Cynthia to her knees before him, placing her hands against the seat on either side of his hips where her feet had been just a few moments ago. "Get to work, Duchess," he said gruffly, his eyes gleaming down at her.

With a desperate moan, Cynthia took his giant cock in her mouth, stretching her jaw wide to accommodate his size. She licked and sucked, relishing the taste of him on her tongue. After so much time playing with her pussy without release, she had passed into a state of pure lust. She wanted all of her holes filled, but would settle for just one. Groaning, she worked her lips hungrily all over Stamford's cock as he sighed in pleasure. After she had soaked it with her tongue, she began bobbing up and down on it, giving it long pulls with each upstroke.

"Suck it harder, just like that. Fuck, your mouth is amazing! It won't be long now if you keep that up, Duchess."

Cynthia had been so caught up in her own body's responses that she only just now realized that Stamford's pleasure had been delayed with hers, and that he must also be on the edge of release. The thought that he was close made her suck his cock even harder, wanting the taste of his seed to coat her tongue. She gurgled as she attempted to swallow his rod down her throat, but the fat, blunt head of it was just too big.

Stamford appreciated her effort anyway. "Ah, fuck, Duchess, I'm going to come. Yes, that's it, yes!" His grip on her wrists tightened as he thrust upwards with a roar, his cock swelling in her mouth before the dam burst and cum rushed over her tongue and down her throat. Cynthia worked to swallow every last drop, moaning in appreciation. She had grown to love the taste of cum over the past month, and she shifted her hips restlessly on her heels, trying in vain to find friction for her aching pussy as his seed pumped into her mouth.

At last, Stamford's grip on her wrists loosened slightly and his head fell back against the squabs. He sighed with deep appreciation. "Bloody hell, Duchess. That was amazing."

After she had licked every last trace of cum off his softening rod, Cynthia tugged at her wrists. "Oh, please Stamford, you said I could come now. Please let me come!" Her pussy was even hotter and wetter after having his delectable cock in her mouth, and she was vibrating with need.

Lifting his head, Stamford smiled down at her, enjoying her stark longing. "All right, darling. For being such a good girl, you won't have to just use your fingers. I'm going to make you come with my tongue." The words were like a balm to her deprived body.

He hoisted Cynthia easily back onto the opposite seat and set about fulfilling his promise. As soon as he spread her lips open, flattened his tongue against her clit, and plunged two fingers into her swollen flesh, she came instantly with a cry of relief.

"Yes, yes!" she gasped, her hips shifting obscenely. "More, Stamford, more!" Searching for something to hold onto, she reached up and grabbed the backrest cushions where they met the rear window of the carriage, sinking her fingers into the sumptuous fabric that lined the coach's interior.

This time, it was Stamford who obeyed the Duchess's orders, continuing to thrust his fingers in and out of her sopping pussy as he worked her bud with his tongue and lips. Cynthia moaned and whimpered and panted as the pleasure grew again. Another blazing orgasm rolled through her as her toes pointed and her legs shook.

"Oh yes, oh yes!" was her whispered litany as Stamford sucked her tender pussy. It felt like she would never be able to have enough of this drowning bliss. The lush strokes of his tongue, the feel of his fingers rubbing against those wonderfully sensitive spots in her pussy were like heaven.

"I can't wait to fuck this tight little pussy," Stamford said, his words gusting against her heated flesh as he continued to pump his fingers in and out. "I'm going to pound you so hard when I do, Duchess. Would you like that?"

The thought of finally having Stamford's giant cock in her cunt made Cynthia's eyes roll up as she came again, her whole body trembling, muscles spasming. Her pussy clenched on Stamford's fingers and she bit her lip, whimpering at the wave of bliss. It was as if all of the orgasms that had been denied her were coming at once, and her chest heaved at the effort.

"I think I'd like to fuck you while Pem fucks your arse. I think you'd love having two cocks in you at the same time, Duchess." Stamford's voice was a growl as he continued wringing overwhelming pleasure from Cynthia's body.

The words only faintly registered and Cynthia groaned as yet another orgasm burst over her, and it seemed as if it never ended, one orgasm blending into another as she shook on the carriage seat. "Oh my God!" she gasped, her head rolling from side to side on the squabs, her tired body racked with shivers. "No more, no more!"

"Oh no, Duchess. You asked for this and you're going to take it."

It was several long, torturous minutes more before Stamfard finally stopped playing with her pussy. Cynthia had passed into another plane of consciousness by that point as jolt after jolt of almost unendurable pleasure had run through her body, her mind floating through a foggy cloud of overwhelming sensation. Slowly, she wafted down, coming back to herself to find that she was cradled in Stamford's arms, her dress and skirts righted.

"What a delight you are, Duchess," he said warmly, smiling down at her as she blinked up.

Cynthia felt as if all of her limbs were made of jelly as she turned her face into his broad chest, rubbing her cheek against the fine wool of his coat. "Oh, Stamford," she breathed.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "You have been such a good girl on this carriage ride, my dear. Pem and I have thought of a surprise for you, and I think you've earned it now."

"What is it?" she asked sleepily.

"You'll find out soon enough. Go to sleep now. We still have another two hours before we reach Atherstone House."

With a contented sigh, Cynthia let herself slip into a deep slumber.

********

Cynthia stood at the door to Stamford's guest chambers, her heart pounding. It was the day after the carriage ride and Stamford was behind her, slipping a silken blindfold over her eyes and tying it tightly against her chignon. The last thing she saw was Pembroke's sly smile as he watched the proceedings, his shoulder leaning against the door frame.

"Oh dear," she said as the darkness descended. "Is this really necessary?"

"Definitely," said Pembroke, his voice laced with humor and satisfaction. "Surprises are always better this way."

It was midafternoon, and they were alone in the house. Jeremy had announced that morning over breakfast that he would need to walk to the home farm with his steward in the afternoon. Accordingly, after partaking of a hearty luncheon, he had strode out of the house, the awkward, young man who was his steward running after him like a puppy.

Stamford and Pembroke had immediately shared a look over the dining table that made a shiver go down Cynthia's spine. She still remembered Stamford's suggestion during that blissful carriage ride, of him and Pembroke taking her at the same time. Was that the surprise Stamford had mentioned? She had thought of little else since then, especially after Jeremy fucked her asshole last night while his fingers were buried in her pussy. She had felt full to the brink when it was just his cock and fingers. It was hard to imagine taking anything more.