Ella - [COMPLETE]

Chapter 7

It became a routine soon, and lost a little of it's excitement. Cecil would awake with his cock inside of her mouth, her eyes looking up at him. For the next few mornings, he would moan loudly as he ejaculated down her throat, until one morning, she let him wake up alone.

She had gone to see the servants, as they had a very important dinner that night. Thankfully, Cecil's mother was the overseeing eye in all of this, but she did request the women of the household be present at the meeting. Ella pretended to be interested, all the while imagining what Cecil would do to take care of his lust this morning.

When she found him later that day, she shyly apologized for not being there this morning, and felt her eyes move down to his crotch. She had to admit, as much as she fretted over her feelings for him, one thing she was sure about was the handsomeness of his cock. With their routine broken, she wondered if she could coax that cock inside of her again, but then, she thought, did she really want to see this waif of a man panting on top of her?

Cecil informed her that he would be travelling that day, and thus provided her a sense of freedom. She had been writhing, spending the past few days taking care of his needs, but not her own. She wondered if she could take some time to pleasure herself, but then she had a better idea.

A few hours after Cecil had departed for town, she rushed into the servant's hall, in search of the broad shouldered man who had seen her naked the morning after her wedding day. The servants all tilted their heads when she entered their hall, whispers followed her as she walked in search of him. At last, she found him tying some herbs together to dry. She had tugged the neckline of her dress a little low, and saw his eyes immediately leap to her cleavage. Just as she'd planned.

"I spilled a glass of mead upstairs," she said. "I'd like some help before the lady of the house finds out. Would you come with me?"

The servant did as he was told, and walking back to her chambers, Ella had never felt so devious. What had come over her, that she was seducing men like this? Why wasn't she content with her own husband? Something about it all empowered her, filled her with a bright, exciting energy.

When they arrived in her chambers, she shut the door, and turned to find the servant searching for the spill. She realized, in retrospect, that perhaps she hadn't actually needed to spill something, but she had, in the corner of the room, dropped a splash of mead so that she could convince him over her story.

He knelt down to examine the spill, and then realized he had nothing to scrub it with.

"Oh," she said, and rushed to bring him an old cloth.

She knelt on the ground beside him, the neckline of her dress falling even lower, and watched his eyes widened as he held his gaze there. She could feel a wetness between her legs that would soon seep into her dress. She handed him the cloth, and felt her breasts knocking against each other.

The boy was mesmerized.

"No need to look," she said. "Haven't you already seen me in my nightgown?"

"My lady," he said, turning away. His voice was deep, his body full and tall, but his face looked as though he could be young as eighteen. "I apologize."

"You are him, aren't you?" she asked. "The one who saw me on the morning of my wedding."

"Yes."

"I know a look of embarrassment when I see one," she said. "Had you ever seen a woman so undressed?"

"No, my lady."

"I still think about that morning," she said. "I sometimes daydream about what would have happened if my husband had not walked in."

He still did not look at her, scrubbing away at the spill. He was stunned, perhaps, didn't know what to say.

"What do you think might have happened?" she asked.

He became perfectly still. "My lady--"

"I sometimes think," she said, crawling off of the floor and onto the bed. "That you might have had thoughts about joining me in my marriage bed." She patted the mattress beside her. Looking down at him, her vagina throbbed with excitement. She had never felt more powerful than this, to have a man strung along so easily. "Come, sit next to me," she said.

"I can't--" he muttered.

"Why do you think that?"

He could not look at her. "If I stand, my lady, I shall reveal how much I have been thinking about that morning."

An absolute flood of wetness soaked her dress. Her plan may have really worked. It was so easy, and delicious to trick a man like this. She crossed her legs. "If you sat next to me," she said. "You might eventually feel how much I have been thinking about that morning."

She realized how young he was, when he stood, completely embarrassed of the stiffness in his tights. He was certainly not as large as Cecil, or as wide as Nikolas, but he was so excited that she already saw a wet spot down his leg.

Without words, he tackled her to the bed, hands grasping for her heavy breasts, lips kissing her neck. It was passionate, and childish, and happening all too fast. She had wanted something slow, and luxurious, not a panicked frenzy as if they were racing a ticking clock. But perhaps they were, she realized, when within seconds he had whipped his dick out of his tights and pushed her legs open. With the build up of the last few days, servicing only Cecil and keeping her own lust locked up inside, she felt her vagina opening easily, wet and eager for anything to push inside of it.

The servant had his head at her door within a mere two minutes of jumping on the bed. He thrust himself in instantly, and Ella gave a painful moan. She bit her lip. He rammed himself into her frantically, the friction between them working so fast, that Ella barely had time to register what she was experiencing. He grabbed onto her hips with his big, sturdy hands, and absolutely pounded her, rough and raw.

At first, Ella brought her hands to his chest, but she was powerless to slow him down. She could feel her breasts bouncing every which way, until one popped out of her low cut dress, in a way that she was sure looked unattractive. The muscles in her vagina were scrambling to understand the sensation of his cock and her mind went blank, unable to process anything but the sensation of his forceful fucking. The sound of him slapping against her echoed throughout the room alongside her moans which oscillated between pleasure and fear.

She had never been fucked like this, to the point where she did not know what she was feeling. How could she have gone from the most powerful one in the room, to the one bouncing up and down against the bed at his mercy. She had to admit that the powerlessness allowed her to succumb to her pleasure more easily, she felt the wetness between her legs beginning to tremble, her breasts bouncing wildly. And then she remembered something.

"You can't--" she breathed. "Oh!" He had lifted her hips to plunge deeper inside of her. "Oh, oh!" His head was touching places even Cecil had never reached. "You can't--put your seed--inside me. Oh!"

With that, his face contorted, but he pulled himself out and let his excitable penis erupt all over her dress. They both let out a sigh of relief, and then both looked down uncomfortably at the beautiful dress they had ruined. The servant shoved his cock back into his trousers as quickly as he had taken it out. He couldn't look at her, or the evidence of what they had just done on her dress.

She realized, looking up at him, that she didn't even know his name. "Thank you," she said, although she wasn't sure why she said it. "That felt wonderful."

The servant said nothing, except asked for permission to be dismissed and hurried out of the room. Ella was left startled, taking off her dress and bundling it up, setting it out of sight. She couldn't believe what had come over her, or perhaps more surprising, what had come over that servant, to grab her and thrust into her so forcefully. She wondered to herself what he was thinking, and how long he had been holding in that lust for her. He was so serious, she smiled. And yet so nervous.