Forbidden Love

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He walked into the finely decorated room and rotated his shoulders trying to loosen the tension of the day. It was just before supper, about six o clock in the evening and he was trying to prepare himself for the guests that were about to arrive. The formal dinner had been scheduled for about two weeks and anyone who was anyone would be there. Edmond could hear the china and the silverware clinging as the servants were setting the table.

The smell of warm bread filled the air and it brought him back to his childhood and his mother's homemade bread fresh out of the brick oven. It was a much simpler time, he didn't have the responsibilities and the financial strain he felt building in his shoulders every day. Those shoulders bore a heavy burden of many things including an arranged marriage he never exactly fit into and a son he could never seem to connect with.

A knock at the bedroom door startled him back into this world. "Come in!" he grumbled expecting to see his wife stroll in. He was very relieved as a beautiful red-haired maid opened the door.

"The misses would like to know how long it will be before you are ready to come down." the pretty young girl probed as she stood in the doorway with the sunlight bouncing off the streaks of dust in the air around her like stars floating in the heavens.

He replied somewhat hesitantly, "Tell her I will be down directly after my bath." And he continued, "Please see that Isabelle is instructed to draw my bath."

"Yes Sir," she nodded, "I will see that your request is delivered personally.." She nodded, turned, and started out the door, his eyes following her and watching her tight little ass sway as she exited into the hallway before disappearing down the stairs.

Starting to undress as he awaited word that his bath was ready, he stared at himself in an oval mirror encased in mahogany wood. Looking deep into his own eyes he allowed himself to again drift back to the simple life of childhood.

Oh how much he missed climbing trees and catching frogs, the feel of that cold spring water on his legs as he splashed around. He could almost hear the birds singing and squirrels arguing in the oak trees of the forest.

He got so deep in his daydream that he didn't hear me walk into the room.
I was young then, only nineteen years old, and lived a very quiet life in his home. I felt very unnoticed by him, but I noticed him. I noticed the way his eyes snarled at his wife when her back was turned, I noticed the way he looked at handsome men when he thought no one was watching. The way he smelled after his bath or after he came home from an afternoon hike, you know the smell, it was his cologne with just the right splash of musk.

I wasn't expecting to find him in the nude and could feel my temperature rising, and my heart climbing just as quickly. Slowly and quietly I moved towards him, knowing both his eyes were closed and he was expecting Isabelle to come up and draw his bath.

He certainly wouldn't expect to see me standing in the doorway looking at his broad shoulders or the way his torso narrowed before the swell of his ass. I just wanted to reach out and touch him, I wanted to feel his skin on my hands, and wanted him to hold me. I needed him to embrace me and comfort me. I wanted him to know how I felt about him. I respected him, I trusted him, I loved him, but mostly I lusted for him.

After just a few more minutes of watching this fantasy, I did it, I convinced myself that it would be ok to touch him. I laid my hands on his shoulders and started to rub them with strong secure hands yet my touch was so gentle. I could feel him loosen up after a few minutes like he knew who was there and was expecting my touch all along.

I felt flush with excitement and could see the redness in my cheeks through the mirror to the left of his broad shoulders. He was taller than I, by a handful of inches so I knew he was unable to see who was behind him.

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