Annabel breathed in deeply and enjoyed the luxury. These
first deep breaths of the day were always especially wonderful as they came
before the ordeal of being laced into the whaleboned corsets demanded by
fashion. In a moment, she knew, Sarah her maid would enter with her morning tea
and the ritual of preparing a well-born young lady to face the new day would
begin. But for now…
She stretched luxuriously and
immediately came fully awake. She was naked. Her legs, her belly, her breasts
and back were all in unaccustomed contact with cool, crisp linen instead of her
heavy nightdress. It felt so good! And she felt different inside, emotionally
she felt a deep, relaxed sensation; physically she felt suppler and more lithe
than ever before. She gave another pleasurable twist and arch of her back and
her hand touched warm skin beside her. She sat bolt upright forgetting that she
was naked and letting the bedclothes fall away. On the pillow beside her was
the tousle haired head of a man.
Suddenly everything swam into focus
and Annabel relaxed somewhat.
Had this been London, she would have
been in serious trouble. She had committed two cardinal sins; she had lost her
virginity and lost it to a married man. In extremis a young lady of breeding
might allow her back passage to be penetrated as a method of avoiding pregnancy
whilst retaining the young man’s interest, but – and here Annabel allowed
herself a complacent smile – she hadn’t gone down that route. Memories of the
previous evening and night engulfed her as she stared down at the sleeping man
beside her. She smiled again and one hand gently stroked her nipple, sending
delicious sparks of pleasure shooting through her.
The previous night she had attended
her first ball on the island of St Kelmo and she had been well and truly
initiated into the ranks of island womanhood. To hell with London, she thought,
out here married men were fair game.
Annabel, daughter of a wealthy London banker had been
sent out to the colonies of the West Indies by her parents in order to distance
her from the attentions of several young men; attentions that she was showing
alarming signs of giving in to.
The Right Honourable Percy Warbreck
had come a-visiting to their house in Mayfair one afternoon when Annabel had
managed to convince her mother’s maid, while her mother was out, that she would
be safely alone until tea time and that she too could go out shopping.
It had taken them weeks to organise an
almost empty house and both knew exactly what they wanted. Annabel let him in
and took him straight into the library. There was a feverish skirmish between
their bodies, between lips and tongues, hungry, desperate and questing. Percy
tasted and smelled of cigars and whisky, his hands roved everywhere, delving
into her blouse where she had carefully left a couple of buttons undone and for
the first time Annabel felt a hand other than her own touch the sensitive flesh
of a nipple. A shiver of the most all-consuming lust swept through her as she
pressed against his hard body. And then, greatly daring she had drawn a hand
back from embracing him and run it down his jacket until it was squeezed
between their bodies and her fingers could trace the outline of something hard
and long and thick! So that was it! That was the mysterious object which had
haunted long nights of fretful sleeplessness. It was supposed to fit inside her
and yet it felt so enormous; could she accommodate it? And would it hurt? She
was going to find out.
Percy broke away flushed and excited.
He brought out from a pocket a jar of grease and brandished it.
“Just let me feel around you a bit
more, Annabel old girl and then we’ll gallop Sir Thomas up the dirt track. Not
ideal but it’ll give you an idea of what the real thing will be like!”
Annabel felt that it could have been
handled in a slightly less coarse manner but she was feeling reckless and
excited and she couldn’t get the feel of that hardened rod of maleness out of
her mind. She hurriedly unbuttoned her blouse completely as he came towards
her. Her corset thrust the mounds of her breasts eagerly towards him as he
advanced, his hands scooped them out, his skin feeling harsh and rough on the
smooth pallor of her breasts. He found her nipples and was fascinated by them –
or rather by the effect of them on her – he stroked them and made her sigh, he
squeezed them just a little and made her gasp, he pulled them and made her
jump. Then he bent his head and she felt his teeth just nip at them, bright
spears of something that was almost pain but wasn’t quite, leaped through her
body and seemed to focus on her lower belly where they caused strange heating
and melting sensations.
Abruptly Percy finished with her
nipples and stood up.
“Right, over you go, my girl and let’s
have the back door open!”