A smoke filled room in 1813.

“And how is the ‘Ice Maiden,” Rigsby enquired as I joined him at the fireside in my club.

“Still frozen I’ll wager.” Malden laughed.

“Damn it man I told you in confidence,” I snapped as my marital woes were laid bare for all and sundry to laugh at. Four weeks wed and she was still virgo intacto with no hint of thawing toward me.

“Force the issue you fool,” Malden opined drunkenly.

“I should,” Grimshaw added.

“Damn you all, I have to live with her afterward remember,” I explained. “She would not forgive me easily,”

“So Hansen,” Malden bellowed so loudly that people passing in the street might have heard,
“Remind us how your new, and may I say exquisitely proportioned, dear lady wife contrived to remain virgo intacto fully one calendar month after your wedding day?”

“She pushes me away,” I said, “She loves another and only wed me at her mother’s insistence.”

“As you married her at your mother’s insistence,” he reminded me.

“But she,” I struggled for words, “Inflames my passion, I wish to smother her in kisses and take her to heaven while she wishes me to leave her alone.”

“Tis awkward I agree,” Grimshaw agreed, “She being low born of a Blacksmith turned engineer turned mine owner, while you being high born and completely devoid of funds.”

“And he a big ugly brute likely to punch your lights out if you hurt his Princess,” Malden added unnecessarily.

“So how far have you proceeded?” Rigsby enquired.

“Kiss on the cheek at the altar is about it,” I admitted, “I’m doing my damnedest to be faithful but there are limits.”

It was a sad affair, her father with oodles of moolah wanted a title for his daughter and I due to inherit father’s title, and our family in dire need of cash. The thing was though I thought she was beautiful and witty in her own way. However she thought I was a “Weasle faced layabout,” among other choice phrases and “Hell will freeze before I lay for you!” She was fresh from finishing school when we wed, one moment she would behave like a Queen, the next like a fishwife. It was frustrating.

“She loved a lad from the Village,” I explained, “Gave her heart to him, hid her feeling for me till we were wed to appease her father and now spends her days abed and nights reading texts of racy tales she acquires from Monsieur L’Ebay.”

“Want’s the blacksmith, big strong artless fellow, well versed in taking virgins?” Grimshaw enquired.

Malden perked up, “I know the fellah, my horse threw an off fore and the chap refixed it, big brute, hung like a stallion, you could see through his britches.”

“Wears short trousers to inflame the wenches,” I agreed.

“Well Hansen outgunned there two fold I’ll wager,” Malden laughed, “For your manhood would disgrace a stoat.”

He alluded to the drunken session with a lady of the night on my wedding eve “Stags” party when my attempt to copulate was doomed to failure by my members refusal to reach his full potential, though I own I have barely nine inches at best.

Grimshaw looked thoughtful, “I think I have it, give her what she thinks she wants, fourteen inches of rock solid muscle rammed in her tender parts will be agonisingly unbearable for a first timer.”

“And your point is?” I demanded.

“Let him have her,” Grimshaw grinned, “Let him open the gates to heaven and when she screams in agony rush him and cast him out leaving her open, ready and willing for your modest member.”

“Not ideal as things go gentleman,” I admitted, “But I own with you coves in attendance that may very well work.”

We set to and planned every detail. It took a week. Grimshaw seduced Maisey our housemaid and took her into his confidence so much that she took messages supposedly from the Blacksmith to my dear wife and messages back supposedly from my wife until the messages became genuine. I arranged to spend the weekend away while Mother and Father took the air at Bognor Regis, and we lit the “corded fuse” so to speak and awaited events.

We hid in the great barn away from the Village on the way to the big house after I supposedly left for London. We had provisions, claret meat pies and two buxom wenches ordered from the bordello to arrive after midnight should we need to spend the night there.

“Barney,” for that was the Blacksmith’s name hurried from his work around eight of the clock as the sun set in the early August sky, he passed not fifty yards from us and hurried on his quest.

We followed some quarter hour later, quietly in the falling dusk.

Through the servants entrance, up the back stairs in stockinged feet till we were positioned.

I spied into my bedroom through a spy hole on the green bedroom wall. They were cuddling already. She in her night gown, he bared to the waist. His muscled torso rippling with animal power.

“Oh my dear Barney,” I heard her simper.

“Oh Miss Eliza,” he replied. “My loins are afire for thee,” not exactly Keats or Shakespeasre but she was too drunk on his manliness to care.

“Will you take me to heaven, my love?” she pleaded.

“Ah that I shall if you do but say the word,” he replied as his hands roughly pulled her nightdress off her shoulders revealing her delectable mounds.

“And the Master?” he asked.

“That weasel faced fop,” she sneered, “Why he is so perfumed and dandified he could pass for a Harlot himself, I don’t doubt he bugs his so called friends and they bugs him back down that dashed club he near lives at.”

“So ye be pure then Eliza?” Barney asked.

“Saved for you my darling,” she simpered.

I fumed, weasel faced fop indeed, perfumed? would she have preferred me to stink of horse dung like the danged blacksmith.

He ducked his lips to her teats and suckled like a baby. He kissed the bone on her shoulder and then he opened the front of her nightdress to reveal her mound.

He kissed her mouth as a bony muscular finger slipped gently into the top of the groove leading to her womb. I saw it ease oh so slowly within her and heard her whimper as his finger nail rent her maidenhead. The long bony finger began to pleasure her.

She moaned with pleasure. He undid his trews and slipped them down. The brute wore naught beneath the breeches and his mighty trunk swung lewdly.

“Oh Barney, My lord!” she gasped as he grasped his monster with one hand and grasped her firmly around her waist with his other arm. He moved her bodily upon the bed and spread her legs wide.

I tensed in my hide and prepared to give the signal. The screws in the door bolt hasp were already loosed and held only with stale bread in the treadings and my friends were poised ready.

His monster invaded her, not gently but with less grace than a Boar mounting a Sow.

“Agghhhh it hurts, it is too much!” she pleaded.

“You’ll like it soon enough, all the wenches likes Barney’s Big One,” he laughed as he tried to force his member ever deeper inside her.

“No dear god please no!” she wailed.

“Desist!” I bellowed, the word we had devised to initiate our invasion.

Crash! The door flew inwards and Barney fell sideways in evident horror.

I extricated myself and rushed to the bedroom.

Barney was standing in a corner. Naked. His member drooping as he stood fists clenched ready to fight all comers.

Eliza sat on the bed, her face pallid, her countenance one of entire shock.

“Get out you oaf!” Malden shouted,

“And hide your prong,” Rigsby suggested.

“Go on, go!” I added.

“Sorry Master,” Barney cringed as he grabbed his trews and rushed from the room.

“Wait in the scullery, I shall deal with you later,” I ordered.

I strode to embrace Eliza, “My dear, thank the lord I found you.”

“I am so sorry,” she blubbed.

“He is a brute, he knows no better,” I explained, “You have been brought up a gentlewoman to live among Gentlefolk, you can not set that aside and rut with low borns.” I added, “Why low born wenches would have consorted for years by your age and have caverns readily able to swallow the blacksmiths girth and more.”

I kissed her forehead. “You my love deserve the utmost tenderness.” I kissed her neck. “Kindness not animal passion,” I kneaded her left mound, “Love.”

The door shut behind my friends as I stripped off my shirt and breeches and returned to kiss her belly and her mound. “And now with your permission I shall consummate our love.”

I grasped my member with my left hand, he was reassuringly firm, so I oh so gently eased him into her groove and between her sweet pink woman’s lips.

He slid oh so sweetly within her now moistened chasm. Pleasantly firm yet nicely yielding it afforded a delightful sensation so much so that all thoughts of seduction flew away and I proceeded to pleasure myself with no consideration for her what so ever.

“Oh husband, you are driving me mad,” she whispered, “Kiss me, suckle my teats, use me, take me, love me!”

My member was now sheathed entirely and my loins ground upon her mound till she cried out in pleasure and ecstasy. And then my moment came. My seed burst forth.

“Sooth me husband, sooth me with your milk!” she wailed and then it was over.

“I have been so foolish.” she said as my ardour subsided and I rolled from her, “I thought he was my true love, can you forgive me?”

“Perhaps,” I agreed, “But the disgrace, I shall have to divorce you but perhaps you could become my whore?”

“I’m not a complete fool,” she snapped, “But I dare say I could bring myself to accommodate your needs, as long as you can sate mine.”

“Er, well, yes no harm done,” I agreed, “What say you we go and rescue Barney?”

“Rescue?” she demanded, “I should not care in the slightest if he were beaten to a pulp.”

“Worse than that,” I ventured, “When young Maisey and Cook have had their way!”

She looked horrified, as well she might. Downstairs, Barney was cornered in the scullery as my so called friends taunted him. Already he had carried Maisey the entire length of the downstairs passage, carried her upon his prong with her legs wrapped around his waist and now as I brought my beloved to se him so he was rutting deep in Cooks cavernous cunt.

“You slimy deceitful malodorous oaf! she cried and she whacked him firmly on a bare buttock which did naught but force him deeper into Cook to her evident delight, “Ohhhhh” she wailed, and she disappeared, only to return directly with a pail of cold water which thrown over the pair had not the slightest effect upon their animalistic copulation.

“It was all lies my dear,” I explained carefully as I held Eliza’s hand in mine, “He had no regard for you what so ever.”

“And you? Don’t pretend you married me for love,” she challenged.

“In truth you are correct,” I agreed. “A dowry for the family and a wench the equal of any I should find in any Bordello and available to myself alone each and every night.”

She smiled at me. “And do you know if I close my eyes tightly so as not to regard your weasel face I find your attentions to be tolerably pleasant.”

“And do you desire any attention directly?” I enquired.

“Oh no, I do believe I can wait until we reach the bedroom!” she replied.