Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)“For the last time, no James!”
Lady Beaumont roared across the fine oak table, the surface freshly polished by the household staff reflecting the light of a large crackling fire. Across the table stood her husband. His posture couldn’t have been more of a contrast to her indignant defiance. He was crouched over the edge of the table, as though he were about to dart around the side of it and playfully chase her down. He gave her a playful grin from beneath his fine salt-and-pepper moustache.
“Come on Joan, just one go before tonight! You know how I get after a half a bottle of port.”
“I’m not going to reduce myself to your base desires, James.”
“But Joan--”
“And I’m not letting you place it in my ass.”
“Joan, it’ll just be a moment or two. Just lie back on the table and--”
“James, we eat here!”
Lady Joan Beaumont sighed in frustration, running a hand through her greying auburn hair. She and the Earl had been married for twenty years now. They had met at a philosophy club at Cambridge, and she had quickly fallen in love with the young heir to the Earldom. Even all these years later, she could remember how he would recite Chaucer and Dunn by heart when they walked together in the moonlight. The two had whiled away many afternoons on classical literature and discussions on poets and prophets alike. But after the two married, it became clear their intellectual conversations were not the only thing the Earl was intent on. At first it hadn’t been so bad. Simply lying on their marriage bed and letting him thrust into her was no great taxing experience, even if she would rather the two doing something else together, but over the years his demands of her had grown more frequent, and bizarre.
Lady Beaumont let a sigh escape her. She couldn’t stay mad at her husband. She supposed she had driven him to this behavior. How long had it been since she allowed him to take her? It had been several months at lea...no, years. Maybe she was a terrible wife.
Well, that settled the matter. She couldn’t let her husband go ignored any longer.
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“...Yes, thank you. Our butler should see the two delivered to the manor. We’ll be waiting for them.”
Lady Beaumont slid her cell phone into her purse before turning to her husband. She was dressed in a plain grey business suit and skirt, a dour contrast to the elegant marble stairs behind her, or the fine portraits along with walls. Her husband on the other hand looked as dapper as the day they had met. Pleated pants, silk shirt and cravat, and a velvet smoking jacket. Even a monocle sat perched in his left eye as he leaned on his umbrella.
“Now the two new maids should be arriving in a few moments. Renauld is driving them here in the Rolls Royce. I’ll stay to give them the tour of the manor, but I really must go after--my plane leaves in an hour.”
She shot a sideline glance to the man. Though this had seemed an excellent idea last night, she now found herself having second thoughts. Leaving her husband alone, to have his way with two young maids was enough to make her pause. But the anticipation and hunger in her eyes gave her a strange sense of reassurance. She wanted her husband happy, but she could live with never seeing that expression again.
The sound of the grand double doors opening drew their eyes. Joan found her breath catch in her throat. Earl Beaumont simply smiled. They were here.
Lady Beaumont roared across the fine oak table, the surface freshly polished by the household staff reflecting the light of a large crackling fire. Across the table stood her husband. His posture couldn’t have been more of a contrast to her indignant defiance. He was crouched over the edge of the table, as though he were about to dart around the side of it and playfully chase her down. He gave her a playful grin from beneath his fine salt-and-pepper moustache.
“Come on Joan, just one go before tonight! You know how I get after a half a bottle of port.”
“I’m not going to reduce myself to your base desires, James.”
“But Joan--”
“And I’m not letting you place it in my ass.”
“Joan, it’ll just be a moment or two. Just lie back on the table and--”
“James, we eat here!”
Lady Joan Beaumont sighed in frustration, running a hand through her greying auburn hair. She and the Earl had been married for twenty years now. They had met at a philosophy club at Cambridge, and she had quickly fallen in love with the young heir to the Earldom. Even all these years later, she could remember how he would recite Chaucer and Dunn by heart when they walked together in the moonlight. The two had whiled away many afternoons on classical literature and discussions on poets and prophets alike. But after the two married, it became clear their intellectual conversations were not the only thing the Earl was intent on. At first it hadn’t been so bad. Simply lying on their marriage bed and letting him thrust into her was no great taxing experience, even if she would rather the two doing something else together, but over the years his demands of her had grown more frequent, and bizarre.
Lady Beaumont let a sigh escape her. She couldn’t stay mad at her husband. She supposed she had driven him to this behavior. How long had it been since she allowed him to take her? It had been several months at lea...no, years. Maybe she was a terrible wife.
Well, that settled the matter. She couldn’t let her husband go ignored any longer.
----------------------------------------
“...Yes, thank you. Our butler should see the two delivered to the manor. We’ll be waiting for them.”
Lady Beaumont slid her cell phone into her purse before turning to her husband. She was dressed in a plain grey business suit and skirt, a dour contrast to the elegant marble stairs behind her, or the fine portraits along with walls. Her husband on the other hand looked as dapper as the day they had met. Pleated pants, silk shirt and cravat, and a velvet smoking jacket. Even a monocle sat perched in his left eye as he leaned on his umbrella.
“Now the two new maids should be arriving in a few moments. Renauld is driving them here in the Rolls Royce. I’ll stay to give them the tour of the manor, but I really must go after--my plane leaves in an hour.”
She shot a sideline glance to the man. Though this had seemed an excellent idea last night, she now found herself having second thoughts. Leaving her husband alone, to have his way with two young maids was enough to make her pause. But the anticipation and hunger in her eyes gave her a strange sense of reassurance. She wanted her husband happy, but she could live with never seeing that expression again.
The sound of the grand double doors opening drew their eyes. Joan found her breath catch in her throat. Earl Beaumont simply smiled. They were here.
