Lady Elsa Takes a Lover Read Free

drawing room, focusing the majority of my energy on
her. After a bit, I started to relax and found myself able to include George in
the conversation without becoming terribly frazzled.
    As
for him, he seemed remarkably relaxed for someone who had only just committed a
scandalous act. He leaned back comfortably against the sofa as if he were in
his own home. There was, however, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and more
often than not, he appeared to be holding back a smile.
    After
another hour or so had passed, Caroline mentioned that the two of them ought to
be making their way back to the manor house so they would arrive before
nightfall. I cannot express how saddened I was by the thought of them departing
so soon.
    “I
do hope you will come to call again soon,” I said as I escorted the pair of
them to the door. “I have enjoyed your visit so very much.”
    “I
would be delighted to,” said Caroline with a smile. “Perhaps we can arrange to
return in the following week?”
    “That
would be lovely,” I said with a bow of the head.
    “I’ll
see to it that we do,” said George, flashing that cheeky smile of his at me.
“Thank you for a delightful afternoon, Elsa.”
    “The
pleasure was mine, George.”
    I
nearly burst out in laughter at that, for no one could have imagined how true
that statement was.
    Oh,
the pleasure I enjoyed as I rocked my hips and rubbed my slick nether regions
against his manhood…
    And
without any further ado, Caroline and George departed the manor house, leaving
me all on my own. I was saddened to see them go, but I looked forward to seeing
them again.
    How
fortunate I felt to have welcomed the two of them into my home! Not only did
their company serve as a remedy for my crushing loneliness, but for the first
time in so many months, I felt a spark igniting inside of me.
    Feeling
terribly sensual and lovely, I made my way directly upstairs to my bedchambers,
whereupon I promptly shed each and every layer of clothing that I had on. I
then got into bed to caress my bosoms and fondle my slippery folds as I thought
of George’s cheeky smile, his penetrating gaze, his muscular thighs and of
course the glorious rock hard wonder that nestled between his thighs.

 
    * * * *

 
    Later
that evening, I was sitting in the drawing room, reading Flaubert’s daring
novel, Madame Bovary , when I heard a
tapping on the glass panel of the French doors. It was late; it was nearly half
past ten, and I had been meaning to retire to my bedchambers soon, but the
novel had me engrossed. And it was a good thing it did.
    I
whipped my head around, half expecting to find a scoundrel or some other
unsavory type, but to my relief, my surprise and indeed to my delight, I found
George Chatham staring back at me.
    Madame Bovary fell to the floor as I scrambled up off the sofa and hurried over to
open the French doors.
    “George!”
I exclaimed. “What in Heaven’s name are you doing here?”
    “I
thought perhaps you might want to finish what we started,” he said with a grin.
    I
wasn’t sure how to respond. It all seemed terribly surreal to me, as if I had
imagined the events unfolding. Because, to be quite honest, I’d been hoping
that such a thing would occur. Up until I became engrossed in Flaubert’s
engaging tale, I had been unable to think of anything but George and the
passionate moments we shared earlier that day.
    “Is
your mother aware that you’ve come to call again?” I asked.
    I
haven’t the faintest idea why I asked such a question, but nonetheless, that is
what I said.
    “Are
you mad?” he said with a laugh. “Of course I did not inform my mother of my
plans to return to Hollingsworth Manor, to tear off every stitch of your
clothing and to roger you six ways to Sunday.”
    Unable
to think of a single, solitary way to respond to such a remark, I simply stood
there, gaping back at him.
    “May
I come in?” he asked.
    “Oh,
yes, of course.” I stepped aside, ashamed of having forgotten