The scullery bath at Hoxton Hall
After a night of debauchery at fellow dinosaur expedition member Lord James Hoxton's Hampshire home, journalist Edmund Molloy is in reflective mood, having seen his sweetheart, Daisy, perform intimate acts upon his best friend that very morning. With the other gentlemen riding to Winchester for lunch and the ladies installed in a women only harem, Molloy, at something of a loss in the large house, accepts the offer from a cheeky maid, Ruby, to watch her and the other maids take a bath in the scullery.
Maids' bath time in the scullery was easily as entertaining as I had imagined. Ruby took me through the kitchen to the scullery. A large, cylindrical water heater was situated in the corner of the kitchen itself and a girl I didn't know was filling a large white enamel jug with hot water from it. The scullery itself was tiled in white and blue decorated tiles and the bath sat at the far side, opposite the door to the kitchen which was up a couple of steps.
My fears that the other maids might resent my presence were soon allayed as I was asked to sit on an old wooden chair some six feet from the tub. It had claw feet and the white enamel was painted with a pale blue design on the side. The girls treated me like a visiting potentate and Jenny rushed out to get me a cushion to make me more comfortable. The girl I had not met before was introduced as Ethel, the scullery maid, She was, needless to say, pretty as well and had a fetching gap between her top two front teeth. It was a little imperfection in an otherwise comely visage that I warmed too immediately. Ruby, the maid from Ulster, acted very much as my hostess and ensured that I was given a nice cup of tea while Ethel and Jenny filled the bath.
Eventually it became time for the girls to disrobe and, entertainingly they undressed each other rather than themselves. They turned from me when they removed their underthings so that I was presented with four very pert posteriors and the laughing faces of the girls looking over their shoulders at me. Ethel, sadly, kept her clothes on.
I spent the next ten minutes watching the four maids, stood in the bathtub, washing each other. I even did a sketch or two in my notebook, although it was a challenge capturing the sinuous action, which had me amused and aroused simultaneously. They girls were well trained in performance arts, as every move seemed designed to excite the interests of a male viewer, rather than being anything close to how women wash themselves in reality. The two girls who had previously worked at the Babylon Exploration Society, Ingrid and Madeleine, were especially skilled at washing each other in as arousing a manner as possible; all slow breast soaping, bottom caressing and slick hands between each other’s legs. The English girls Ruby and Jenny weren’t quite so intimate with each other but they certainly displayed themselves to me very fetchingly. Ruby’s lovely auburn moss was covered in white lather like frosting on a ginger cake. Jenny, the possessor of a fine, heart shaped posterior, ensured that she kept her lovely bottom pointed towards me as much as possible. At one point she dropped the soap (deliberately, I am certain) and bent down to pick it up; 'inadvertently' thrusting her peachy arse at me and revealing her fig, nestling underneath her fine cheeks.
The bathtub itself was much larger than you would normally find in a house or hotel, particularly in width. The four girls standing in it had plenty of space.
“I wish I had asked Mr Smaile to take your photograph in your lovely, soapy state!” I said, as I watched Ingrid, who was stood behind Madeleine, slide her soapy hand between the other girl's thighs and part her feminine folds. Madeleine turned her head and kissed the other maid on the lips. No wonder Lord Hoxton enjoyed this ritual so much!
“That would have been fun!” said Ruby.
“We would have right steamed his lens up, though!” said Jenny.
“Now Mr Molloy! Off with your clothes!” said Ruby. I hesitated as the scullery maid, Ethel, had appeared with another large jug of hot water for the bath asm although there was a pipe for the drain beneath it, there were no taps.
“Come on Mr Molloy, clothes off!” said Jenny.
“I need to wait until Ethel has left!” I said as she emptied her jug in the bath.
“Why do you think I came in at this exact moment?” laughed Ethel.
“Exactly!” said another older attractive woman coming through the door from the kitchen. She hadn't been there when I had passed through earlier.
“Cook, Mr Molloy isn’t playing fair! He’s seen us naked! Now it’s our turn!” said Ruby.
“Well Mr Molloy is a special guest of his Lordship and may do as he chooses, although he doesn’t look like the sort of man who would be happy to disappoint six pretty girls!” said Cook. She was not what I was expecting but then I might have known Hoxton wouldn’t employ a fat, middle aged woman. Yes, she was carrying more weight than the others but she looked very fine, with her dark curly hair, full lips, strong nose and flashing brown eyes. She had something of the gypsy about her.
“I wouldn’t want to disappoint six beautiful girls,” I said, removing my jacket.
“Right Ethel! We are still dry so let’s help Mr Molloy off with his togs, eh? We do all enjoy your stories about the dinosaur expedition, Mr Molloy!” said Cook.
“I am glad to hear it!” I said, as Ethel and Cook got me down to my drawers in record time. My previous escapade with Sutton had given me a confidence and daring I did not have before. The sight of Daisy gamahuching Britten that morning, without asking so much as a by your leave, had me relishing some sort of light revenge, such as gambolling with these slippery lovelies.
“I do the last bit!” said Ruby, climbing out of the bath.
“What lovely muscles!” said Cook,. squeezing my shoulders. “A positive Adonis!”
“If I had to eat your superb cooking all the time I would have great trouble staying in shape, Cook!” I said.
“You are a flatterer, sir!” she said, smiling.
“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true. If it is true it is just fact!” I replied.
“It’s nice to be appreciated...oh my goodness!” said Cook as Ruby pulled my drawers down to my ankles. “Ethel, help me out of my clothes!”
We could not, of course get seven of us into the bath, even standing and there was a lot of jumping in and out. Ethel was persuaded to remove her clothes too, eventually, revealing a surprisingly splendid figure, although she had to periodically jump out to fetch more hot water. I managed to stay flaccid for about a minute, I suppose, before all the naked female flesh and bodily contact had its inevitable effect. “Mr Molloy you really have been blessed. That is the nicest one I have ever seen!” said Cook.
“And Cook has seen a few, ain’t you?” said Jenny.
“You cheeky girl!” said Cook slapping the maid’s lovely behind.
“Ow!” she squealed. “ Mr Molloy you need to kiss it better!” I was sat in the bath at this point with Ingrid wedged in behind me, her knees under my armpits. Jenny was outside standing on the wet flagstones but she came up to the bath and stuck her bottom out at me. I kissed it and she squealed again.
“I need a kiss!” said Ingrid, leaning over my shoulder.
“Et moi!” said Madeleine. The next few minutes were a blur of wriggling girls and kissing. Ruby was sitting astride my thighs and Madeleine was crammed in behind her. Cook, Ethel and Jenny were soaping me from outside the tub. I felt several hands stroke my manhood, ‘accidentally’.
“Give the poor man room!” said Cook her massive bubbies dangling close to my cheek. Ingrid climbed out from behind me and I was able to lean back. Cook reached down and took me in hand, unashamedly pumping me. Ruby batted her hand away and started to soap my erection.
“Ruby did draw the lot,” said Jenny to Cook.
“To do what?” asked Cook, rubbing my chest with her slightly chubby hand.
“To wash his prick!” said Jenny. Madeleine jumped out the bath for a better view and put her arm around Ingrid’s waist. I now had five girls kneeling or sitting around the ends or the side of the bath, all staring at my manhood.
“What’s it feel like?” asked Ethel, watching Ruby rubbing soap into my manhood.
“Ethel’s never touched one,” said Jenny. "Have you Ethel? Never even seen one until now!" The scullery maid shook her head slightly while keeping her eyes fixed on my manhood, like a falcon tracking a pigeon.
“Do feel free, Ethel!” I said, thinking that this experience was even surpassing anything the Babylon Exploration Society had offered. To take Britten’s point, these were independent women not people who were being paid to provide services.
“May, I really, sir?” asked Ethel. I nodded. Ethel reached into the bath as if reaching for a poisonous creature. She looked up at me wanting affirmation. I nodded and smiled.
“It won’t bite. It’s not a snake!” I reassured her.
“Actually, it really is!” said Cook. Ethel’s rather calloused fingers reached under the bath water and touched me just below my knob. She squealed and jumped back, laughing.
“Oh it’s right queer!” she said. “How funny to possess such a think hanging in front of you!”
“It’s not hanging now.” said Jenny. “It’s all big, stiff and...”
“Curved. So lovely and curved! I wonder what it feels like?” asked Ruby. She wriggled forward until her skinny thighs were astride my hips. She took hold of my length and held me upright, pressing my knob against her coarse ginger fleece. She started to move her hips, so that I rubbed against her curls. She looked at me, winked, and started to lift her hips, pressing my cock head against her feminine parts.
“Ruby, no!” ordered Cook. "It's not appropriate! Not at all! You don't have his Lordship's permission!"
"Bugger that!" said Ruby, guiding me to her entrance.
“Go on, Ruby! Take him!” encouraged Jenny.
“Yes, do!” said Ethel, staring in stupefaction. I felt myself starting to slip into Ruby’s hot entrance as she lowered herself onto me.
“Ooooh!” sighed Ruby.
“Is good?” asked Ingrid. Madeleine, who was standing level with my chest, started to stroke her parts.
“So good! So bloody good!” said Ruby, as I slid part way into her. "Christ! What a knob!"
“Ruby! Stop cursing!” said Cook, nevertheless leaning forward to get a better view. One of her erect nipples brushed my shoulder.
“Ah, the mystery of the disappearing staff has been solved!” came a voice from the kitchen. The girls all turned around to face the door and as I looked between them I saw Lady Hoxton, standing in the doorway, dressed in a cream peignoir. Ruby jumped out of the bath like a leaping salmon and the girls all started grabbing their clothes.
“Sorry your ladyship!” said Cook. “You could have rung for us. No need to come down here!” I knew that many owners of large houses never visited the kitchens. It was just not done.
“We were just having some fun!” said Jenny, pulling her drawers over her wet body.
“I am sure you were but we have eleven guests and twenty two prostitutes to look after!” said Lady Hoxton.
“I thought we had twelve guests,” said Cook, drying her impressive bosom with a thin towel.
“I am including Caroline with the whores!” said Lady Hoxton. “Now, Ethel, get some more hot water, as I am going to replace Mr Molloy in the bath. Lord James insisted on taking me fully dressed and I perspired quite heavily, so I would like to bathe and change before lunch. Madeleine you may undress me. Ingrid you can fetch my blue day dress and underthings. The white stockings I think and the blue and white striped corset cover.
“Yes your Ladyship,” said the two maids, curtseying, still naked.
“Well Cook, it’s not like you to frolic with the guests!” said Lady Hoxton as Madeleine removed her peignoir for her, to reveal elaborate lacy underthings.
“No your Ladyship. So sorry your ladyship.” aaid Cook.
“Well, all the other guests were busy or out and Mr Molloy was wandering the corridors like a lost soul, so he was,” said Ruby.
“I see, so naturally you all thought that the best thing to do to occupy him would be to strip naked and wash yourselves in front of him,” said Lady Hoxton “and then get him into the bath too?”
“That was just how it was, indeed!” said Ruby.
“And how did you find Mr Molloy?” asked Lady Hoxton.
“Curved!” said Ethel, the gap toothed scullery maid. Cook jammed her elbow into the girl’s ribs.
“Curved?” asked Lady Hoxton.
“Like a banana! Only bigger!” said Jenny.
“Much bigger!” said Ruby.
“Well, well, Mr Molloy, you interest me increasingly. However, I intend to have my bath free of bananas and other distractions, so you may retire until I need my back washing, at which point I will invite you to return! Ruby you are a very naughty girl. No doubt Sutton will have to beat you again. Perhaps all of you!”
“As we was having a bath anyway we thought he might like to join us, your Ladyship, that’s all,3 said a terrified looking Ruby, "It was all my fault. Punish me not the others!”
“Firstly, Ruby, it is we were having a bath not we was. Plural dear. One maid was having a bath. Five maids and a Cook, who really should know better, were having a bath. Secondly, you should not bring guests down to the servants’ area. Thirdly, I was looking for Mr Molloy who has agreed to draw me. I spent some time seeking him out which was a waste of drawing time!” said Lady Hoxton as Madeleine removed her corset for her.
“Very sorry, milady!” said Ruby eyes downcast, as she did up her white blouse.
“I could draw you here, Lady Hoxton, if I had my materials,” I said. I had just begun to really enjoy maid’s bath time too. Fortunately, the shock of Lady Hoxton’s unexpected appearance had caused my erection to subside.
“Right Mr Molloy, you may fetch your drawing things now. I will avert my eyes while you get out of the bath and dress yourself!” said Lady Hoxton.
“I don’t mind you seeing me naked, Lady Hoxton!” I said standing up in the bath, although she had turned away from me.
“You do not appear to object to any woman seeing you naked, Mr Molloy, that is apparent!” I dried myself, although the towels were all quite wet, causing me to struggle somewhat to put my clothes back on. Ethel drained the bath and started to refill it with large jugs of water. Jenny assisted her.
“I am decent,Lady Hoxton!” I said once I had my trousers and shirt on. She turned back to look at me as Ethel brushed past me with another jug of hot water.
“I hope none of you girls relieved yourself in the bath!” said Lady Hoxton. “I know what James is like!”
“No, milady,” said Jenny. “We didn’t know if Mr Molloy would like that!” Ruby helpfully knelt and tied my shoelaces for me.
“Thank you Ruby!” I said.
“Thank you sir!” said Ruby. I hoped that Lady Hoxton had not been aware that I was actually penetrating the maid’s cunny when she entered the scullery. I looked at Lady Hoxton, standing there in her camisole and drawers, expectantly.
“I am not removing the remainder of my clothes until you leave, Mr Molloy. I am not as easy a conquest as these girls are!”
“Of course not, Lady Hoxton.” I said.
“Now do come along Ruby, stop staring at Mr Molloy like an adoring puppy! We need more water in here!” she said. “Help Ethel! You too Jenny! You may wait outside in the kitchen, Mr Molloy. Do not peer through the glass!” The white door between the kitchen and the scullery had windows in the top half. I stepped into the kitchen while Ruby closed the door leaving Madeleine to undress Lady Hoxton. I knew it just wasn’t really done to spend time in the kitchen. As a boy, I had always enjoyed being in our kitchen at home with cook, however, and even after the age when I was no longer expected to eat with cook I could often be found down there enjoying the smells.
“Why don’t you sit here and have a nice sherry while you wait!” said Cook, already reaching for two glasses.
“I think I might!” I said, listening to the sound of rolling water from next door as Lady Hoxton settled into the partly filled bath.
“Do you have any plan for this evening sir?” asked Cook, taking a large swig of sherry.
“Plan? What sort of plan?” I asked.
“You know! Bag all the blondes. Score half a dozen. Get sucked off by all the titled ladies. That sort of thing! Many of his Lordship's guests have such a target.” she said, emptying her glass and pouring another.
“Bagging the Cook!” I joked.
“Oh alright, you talked me into it!” she said unbuttoning the first few buttons of her blouse.
“It was a joke, Cook. Lovely though you are!” I added, hastily.
“I know, sir. Got to keep your ammunition for later, eh?” she said.
“Something like that!” I agreed. “What sort of food are you preparing for tonight?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Turkish food! Pieces of meat grilled on skewers. Flat bread. Stuffed vine leaves. Olives.”
“How exotic! Where did you learn to cook those?”
“My family is from Greece. The Turks stole all their recipes from Greece. Stole everything from Greece!”
"What is your name, Cook?” I asked. Trying not to look at her cleavage as she had not done up the buttons of her blouse
“Marianna.”
“Well, I am very much looking forward to trying your delicacies later, lovely Marianna!”
“If only, sir!” I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. How much bolder I was these days. All my fear and nervousness around women had disappeared thanks to the amazing discovery that, at least, some of them had as well developed sexual desires as men. It was a revelation. We chatted about the food some more until Ruby came through the door from the scullery.
“Lady Hoxton is ready for her back wash Mr Molloy, so she is,” she said.
“If you will excuse me, Cook!” I said, standing up. When I re-entered the scullery Lady Hoxton was leaning forward in the bath, her arms across her breasts, presenting her long, lean back. Her skin was surprisingly tanned. An even, dark honey colour that could only have been acquired by bathing naked in the sun.
“Ah, Mr Molloy are you ready to give me a good hard scrub!”
“Why, are you particularly dirty?” I asked, removing my jacket and rolling up my shirtsleeves.
“Need you ask?” she said laughing. She handed me the sponge and some soap and I caught a brief profile view of her breasts which were conical in shape with very long nipples.
“No peeking, Mr Molloy!” she scolded.
“I am sorry I am not used to modest women!” I said.
“Oh I am not a modest woman! I just do not believe that you should open all your Christmas presents at once!” she replied.
“I always enjoy the anticipation of Christmas giving!” I said, soaping my hands.
“But do you enjoy giving more than receiving?”
“Indeed I do!” I said and placed my soapy hands on her prominent shoulder blades.
“Well, well, Mr Molloy! Straight to my bare skin without so much as the modest barrier of a sponge! You are a very forward young man, aren't you?”
“I am not overly fond of such barriers!” I said.
“If you disdain barriers you must be very sure of your discipline and know when to disengage.”
“A variety of techniques is called for depending on the object of the activity!” I said, sliding my hands down her narrow back, which had a deep cleft and well developed musculature either side of it. My thumbs slid into her dimples and then slid under the surface of the water to the curve of her posterior. My fingers caressed her haunches.
“Mr Molloy it seems you are forgetting the precise delineation of your object this morning!” She looked over her shoulder at me and gave me a wicked smile.
“I do find it difficult sometimes to comprehend exactly where the boundaries might be!” I said, sliding my hands up her sides and under her arms.
“That is quite apparent, Mr Molloy!” I tickled the sides of her breasts with my fingertips.
“And now to scrub away all your filth!” I said dunking the sponge in the water.
“That would take more muscle power than even you have!” she said. I started to rub her back and decided that she would probably enjoy rather more pressure than I would use on Edith or Daisy.
“How is that?” I asked rubbing the sponge across her lower back.
“Very invigorating indeed, Mr Molloy. You do seem to know what a lady requires!”
“Yes, indeed and I think you might require the backs of your legs washing!” I said.
“I think you might be stretching the definition of back somewhat!”
“I enjoy stretching a beautiful lady!” I said.
“You enjoy stretching their legs in particular? Apart, I would imagine.” “
"I like to see women flexing their muscles. As an artist who has studied human anatomy, I appreciate a finely toned musculature!”
“Likewise, Mr Molloy. Likewise!” She stood up, unexpectedly and water noisily cascaded down her lower body into the tub. Her legs were even more toned than Lady Crozier’s, with the backs of her thighs bellied with muscle and her calves firm and well defined.
“You have exceptionally well developed legs, Lady Hoxton!” I said in genuine admiration. I ran my hand down the back of a glistening thigh.
“Mr Molloy you are a very bold gentleman indeed but I should have guessed that, as you are one of James’ friends!”
“I am more by way of being a colleague,” I said, soaping her thighs. My fingers strayed around to the front of her legs.
“Mr Molloy, you are entering an area that is not included in the service requested!”
“It’s a delineation issue again, I fear!” I said, soaping her knees.
“It’s a bloody try on, that is what it is!” I slid my hand up the inside of her right thigh. She slightly parted her legs.
“It is a sensory delight, that is what it is. I do not think I have ever seen such a fine pair of legs in art or life.”
“Oh!” she gasped, as my index finger brushed her tailbone.
“That, Mr Molloy, to use a phrase that you will comprehend, is well beyond the Pale!” I sponged her soapy legs with water to rinse the lather away.
“You are done!” I said.
“No, that will come later!” she said, looking over her shoulder again.
“You are a splendid woman, Lady Hoxton!” I said and kissed her bottom quickly.
“And you are a very assertive young man indeed, Mr Molloy. I hope you can back up your flirtatious talk with action!”
“I will put you on my dance card!” I said.
“You are a cheeky bugger! Now leave me alone and give your blood time to redistribute itself!” she reached over and squeezed my groin to discover, of course, that I was as stiff as a pole. “Well, well! Perhaps now is the time to fetch your drawing materials,” she said. “Ask the maids for more hot water, I will wallow and consider my next move.”
I set off upstairs and resisted the urge to run, so as to get back to Lady Hoxton as fast as possible. What would Lord Hoxton think of me washing her back and then drawing her naked? He may well be furious but then he had been in intimate contact with Daisy. For all I knew they may have even fucked, after I went to bed the previous night. I wouldn’t put it past Daisy and she said she intended to do as much. I should ask Edith, I thought. I picked up my portfolio from the bedroom but removed the drawings I had already done from it as I did not wish for them to get damp. On the way back I passed the Turkish Salon. I looked up and down the corridor to ensure I was alone and then put my eye to the keyhole but I could see nothing. The key must have been in the lock. I listened intently, expecting to hear the inane chatter of women but there was silence. Then I heard a gasp. Then a moan. Something sexual was taking place inside but I could not work out what. Frigging? Gamahuching? I heard steps from around the corner and sprung away from the door. I resumed walking back towards the stairs down to the kitchen, trying to assume an air of innocence. Sally Sutton appeared from around the corner. She smiled at me but walked past me.
“No good comes of men who listen at doors!” she said. I turned back to look at her, feeling my blush coming on. She was looking at me “I thought so!” she said She turned and walked on, past the Turkish Salon. There was a loud ecstatic cry from inside. I knew it was Daisy. My heart leapt. At least there were no men in there. I hurried back down to the kitchen. Ethel was just emerging from the scullery with an empty jug.
“Just topping up the water, sir. Her Ladyship says you are to go in immediately!” There was no sign of Cook or any of the other maids. Even though the door was open I knocked, just in case.
“Come in Mr Molloy!” called Lady Hoxton. I stepped into the scullery but this time she made no attempt to cover her bosom. I tried not to look at her conical bubbies. As I had observed earlier, her body was not what I would have expected of a woman her age. I could really see no difference between her and Edith or Lady Caroline and they were over fifteen years younger. In many ways she looked younger, physically. Possibly only her neck, eyes, and forehead showed any real sign of ageing. Ethel reappeared with another large jug of hot water. “Keep them coming dear!” she said. She looked directly at me and wrinkled her forehead. “I have come to a decision, Mr Molloy!” she said, as I stood back a respectful seven or eight feet from the bath.
“About your drawing, Lady Hoxton?” I asked.
“No. I am quite clear on that. No it is about my bath. I think it would be considerably enhanced if you removed your clothes once more and joined me in it!”
“Really?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
“But what about Lord Hoxton?” I asked.
“Firstly, he is in Winchester. Secondly, he essentially left that whore Caroline’s bed and took me, rather forcefully, while his cock still reeked of her foetid juices and Thirdly..." She paused.
“Thirdly?” I prompted.
“Thirdly, it is none of his business and entirely my business who I bathe with. Now get undressed, there’s a good boy!”
“If you insist,” I said.
“I would hope that I still retain enough desirability that you should not feel forced but should welcome the experience, Mr Molloy!”
“You have desirability indeed, Lady Hoxton. But I may not be able to control how my body reacts to such desirability,” I said.
“Do not concern yourself with my reaction to your becoming erect, Mr Molloy. I would be disappointed if you did not!”
“But earlier,” I began, thinking of the way she had averted her gaze when I stepped out of the bath.
“Earlier was earlier and now is now!” she said. “A lady has the prerogative of being able to change her mind on a whim! Now hurry up!” I started to remove my tie. After a few seconds Ethel came into the room with another jug of hot water, which she poured carefully down by Lady Hoxton’s feet.
“Is Mr Molloy getting undressed again, Milady?” asked Ethel. “May I watch?”
“No. You will continue to fetch hot water until the cold water I drained out is replaced. Honestly, James gives you girls too much leeway!” Ethel frowned and left the room. I knelt down to remove my shoes and socks and by the time Ethel returned with the next jug of water I was down to my drawers. “Well it seems your timing is perfect, Ethel. Come along then Mr Molloy. Don’t be shy! You are keeping two women waiting!”
“Three!” said Cook from the doorway.
“I am not shy!” I said, pushing my drawers down over my hips. “Good God alive and no wonder!” said Lady Hoxton. The thought of entering the bath with Lady Hoxton had me at full tumescence. I did as Lord Hoxton had once advised and thrust my hips assertively forward. “Bugger me!” said Cook.
“You will have to wait your turn, cook!” said Lady Hoxton. “Come along Ethel! More water!” I climbed into the bath. Unlike Mrs Challenor’s at home and the ones in the hotel the lack of taps made it equally comfortable to sit at either end. “How old are you, Mr Molloy?”
“I do think, Lady Hoxton, that given we are sitting naked together in a bath you may call me Edmund!” She laughed. I recalled what Edith had said to me when I was in the bath with her, which seemed so very long ago. I smiled to myself. “And I am twenty three!”
“Twenty three. Good Lord. I’m old enough to be your grandmother! I had thought that you might be at least thirty. You look older. It must be a hard life digging peat from the bogs, I suppose. Ages you prematurely. You were lucky to escape from Ireland!”
“It’s been interesting in London, especially the last month or so!” I said. “I have never dug any peat in my life!” I added. No-one in England seemed to have any idea that living in Dublin did not involve bogs.
“Ah, the dinosaur expedition preparations! Yes, that must have been interesting.”
“Well, actually, it’s more to do with the women, if I may be frank,” I said.
“I do think, Edmund, that given we are sitting naked together in a bath you may be as frank as you like! Now tell me your story! Not your life story again. About the women!” I told her, in as delicate a way as I could, how my romantic fortunes had changed since Agnes had performed her ‘intimate act’ upon me. Ethel interrupted us several times with more hot water. Cook had been ordered away but kept glancing through the door as she busied herself in the adjoining kitchen. “Ethel dear if you are having such trouble keeping your balance that you have to support yourself on Mr Molloy’s muscular shoulder when you pour the water then perhaps we should get you to a doctor!” said Lady Hoxton.
“There is nothing wrong with me balance, Milady, I just like holding on to his body. It’s lovely!” said Ethel, giving me a gap-toothed smile, which at least meant that she had momentarily stopped looking at my manhood.
“Well, full marks for honesty!”
“Milady, may I ask Mr Molloy a question, please?”
“I suppose so. Just be quick, dear!”
“Mr Molloy, sir. When your thing gets all big and stiff like that can you control it?”
“Ethel! What a personal question!" laughed Lady Hoxton. However, you will soon learn that men’s pricks control them not the other way around!”
“How does that work? Do you have to suck them?” asked Ethel still staring at my member.
“You can do. Or just take hold of them and caress them like this!” said Lady Hoxton, taking hold of me and starting to stroke me. “If you add verbal stimulus too such as ‘Mr Molloy, have you ever done it in the bath, as I really think I’d like you sliding up inside me right this moment?’ then that helps,” she said, rubbing my member more firmly, “See, it is starting to swell again very nicely. Oh my goodness, there it goes!” She let go of me briefly and watched as I reached full tumescence. “It’s so curved!”
“Are they not all like that, Milady”
“Few are as nice as Mr Molloy’s!”
“Sir, can I touch it again?”
“Of course, Ethel!” I said, feeling like a laboratory experiment.
“Just a quick squeeze Ethel," said Lady Hoxton. "How old are you, girl?”
“Sixteen, Milady.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” said Lady Hoxton, wryly.
“That is good, Ethel!” I said as she clasped me, more firmly this time
“Ooh so nice!” said Ethel putting her fingers around me and pumping me gently. “Just lovely!”
“Right, now run along, girl, and close the door as we do not wish to be disturbed. No peeking either! Do you hear me, Cook?” Ethel smiled at me, scooted out of the scullery and closed the door. “Well, I think we can safely say that you made that young girl’s day! What I fail to understand and what I fail to understand of James’ behaviour as well, is why two such attractive men feel the need to go with prostitutes when you are well able to attract women for intimate activity with no problem whatsoever!” My explanation included the ‘nice women didn’t do it’ argument, the ‘my first time’ argument, the ‘joy of different body types and even races’, the ‘some men like unusual behaviour they could not ask their wives to indulge in’ argument (‘Ah, yes that would be James,’ she laughed) and several others I struggled to put into comprehensible form. “Your prick does your thinking for you, in other words!” said Lady Hoxton, still stroking it. “Just as I told Ethel! Sorry, I am teasing! What is your prick thinking at the moment?” she asked.
“What do you want it to think, Lady Hoxton? It is, perhaps, thinking at this moment that any further activity with the stepmother and lover of his host may be a very poor idea indeed!”
“James isn’t my lover. We do it once a year for old times’ sake. He was not in the country on our anniversary last summer and I have not seen him since. It is a peculiar tradition I admit. I probably should have given it up years ago. I am not short of virile masculine companionship in France, I should add!”
“I am not surprised. You are a beguiling and lovely woman indeed!” I said.
“You do posses the Irish blarney, Edmund, even if your peat cutting skills are not as developed as they should be. This however,” she said rubbing my member with a few rapid strokes, “has developed very well indeed! So, have you ever done it in a bath?”
“Not actually in a bath, no!” I said but she was already climbing on top of me. There was not room for her to get comfortably astride me, given she was rather larger than Ruby, so she sat on my groin with her legs stretched out in front of her. She put her weight on one buttock and placed me inside her. She wriggled on me a bit and I tried pushing up but it was not an ideal position.
“This bath is not as large as it might be!" she said. I had thought it very large indeed. My bath in France can easily accommodate three adults, not just one man and a few skinny housemaids. Getting leverage is proving difficult!” she said, pulling off me. “I will kneel and you will take me from behind. You may kiss and caress me as much as you desire! I am not a prostitute! You may also spend inside me. I am well past childbearing age.” She turned around and grabbed hold of the end of the bath. It was much easier once we were both on our knees. I guided myself up into her heat. I kissed her neck and shoulders and played with her breasts as I thrust away. The bath water sloshed about and started to go over the edges as we increased our pace. She was a noisy partner, crying out and gasping. I felt that we were being watched and I looked towards the door to see Cook looking back at me. She blew me a kiss and kept watching, although the window was getting quite steamed up. “Any time you like, Edmund, you will wait all morning for my paroxysm!” This did not take me long and I soon began to empty my ballocks inside her. Afterwards, she lay on top of me, face up, her legs splayed wantonly over the sides of the bath.. I carried on caressing her breasts, belly, hips and moss. I slid my fingers into her soft cleft. “Just as you seek the adventure of a new body at Madame Nathalie’s so I like to occasionally take a lusty young man hours after I have first met him. It confirms my desirability. Sad but true. I dread the day when I will be politely rejected.”
“That is not going to happen for some time!” I said, slipping a finger inside her.
“But eventually,” she said. She twisted around and kissed me on the lips. “Now out you get and time for a quick sketch of me in the bath. Monsieur Bonnard posed me standing up with a towel but the temperature here is not quite as convivial as it is by the Mediterranean! He did not, of course, have me first!” I climbed out of the bath, dried myself and opened my portfolio. I started to put my drawers on but she forbade it. I was half expecting my paper to be soggy but it was perfectly dry. I decided to use charcoal and had her kneel up in the bath. After fifteen minutes I showed her the sketch. She was very pleased and asked if she could keep it. I wondered if I should give up journalism and make a living doing portraits. Naked portraits of women of a certain age. A little artistic licence could take them back, visually, to their glory days, I thought, although Lady Hoxton needed no artifice. Madeleine came in with Lady Hoxton’s clothes. She helped her dress while I dressed too. Ethel came in to empty and clean the bath. She and Madeleine admired my drawing as did Cook, who came in to have a look as well. “Did you enjoy watching us Cook?” asked Lady Hoxton as Madeleine helped her on with her day dress.
“Very much, Milady!” she answered. “Still very athletic, aren’t you Milady?”
“Cook, you are quite the cheekiest woman in a house full of cheeky servants!” said Lady Hoxton. “I always suspect that if James breaks his rule about forgoing relationships, to put it politely, with the staff then it would most likely be with you!”
“The way to a man’s heart is not just through his prong, Milady!” She rubbed her stomach.
“Yes, the ability to produce sublime fruitcake does give you a distinct advantage, I shouldn’t wonder!” said Lady Hoxton. “No doubt you are looking forward to tonight’s debauchery!”
“Very much, milady. Always enjoy watching people at it!” said Cook.
“Myself, as well, Cook. Right, Madeleine, now I am respectable we need to attend to my hair which is not. Back to work, Cook. Luncheon for the ladies soon!” I followed her up the stairs to the main house with Madeleine following behind us. “Thank you, Edmund, for my drawing. You must do some more of me. Thank you for the other activity to. I do believe that you are felicitous of the lady’s enjoyment, unlike James, which I appreciated. He does just see women as a collection of walking orifices. You, I think, enjoy the whole woman.”
“If the woman is not enjoying it then I am not either!” I said, as we paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“An attitude which will serve you in good stead!” she smiled. There was a loud ecstatic cry from behind the Turkish Salon door down the corridor. “Well someone else is enjoying themselves too, although I cannot really understand the appeal of woman to woman relations. It is becoming rather fashionable in France. Something linked to female emancipation, I think. I much prefer this!” she patted me on the groin. “I would not wish to give you an exaggerated idea of your own worth, Mr Molloy, but yours is the most impressive I have ever seen!”
“It really is,” sighed Madeleine. I started to blush, of course.
“Ow!” she squealed. “ Mr Molloy you need to kiss it better!” I was sat in the bath at this point with Ingrid wedged in behind me, her knees under my armpits. Jenny was outside standing on the wet flagstones but she came up to the bath and stuck her bottom out at me. I kissed it and she squealed again.
“I need a kiss!” said Ingrid, leaning over my shoulder.
“Et moi!” said Madeleine. The next few minutes were a blur of wriggling girls and kissing. Ruby was sitting astride my thighs and Madeleine was crammed in behind her. Cook, Ethel and Jenny were soaping me from outside the tub. I felt several hands stroke my manhood, ‘accidentally’.
“Give the poor man room!” said Cook her massive bubbies dangling close to my cheek. Ingrid climbed out from behind me and I was able to lean back. Cook reached down and took me in hand, unashamedly pumping me. Ruby batted her hand away and started to soap my erection.
“Ruby did draw the lot,” said Jenny to Cook.
“To do what?” asked Cook, rubbing my chest with her slightly chubby hand.
“To wash his prick!” said Jenny. Madeleine jumped out the bath for a better view and put her arm around Ingrid’s waist. I now had five girls kneeling or sitting around the ends or the side of the bath, all staring at my manhood.
“What’s it feel like?” asked Ethel, watching Ruby rubbing soap into my manhood.
“Ethel’s never touched one,” said Jenny. "Have you Ethel? Never even seen one until now!" The scullery maid shook her head slightly while keeping her eyes fixed on my manhood, like a falcon tracking a pigeon.
“Do feel free, Ethel!” I said, thinking that this experience was even surpassing anything the Babylon Exploration Society had offered. To take Britten’s point, these were independent women not people who were being paid to provide services.
“May, I really, sir?” asked Ethel. I nodded. Ethel reached into the bath as if reaching for a poisonous creature. She looked up at me wanting affirmation. I nodded and smiled.
“It won’t bite. It’s not a snake!” I reassured her.
“Actually, it really is!” said Cook. Ethel’s rather calloused fingers reached under the bath water and touched me just below my knob. She squealed and jumped back, laughing.
“Oh it’s right queer!” she said. “How funny to possess such a think hanging in front of you!”
“It’s not hanging now.” said Jenny. “It’s all big, stiff and...”
“Curved. So lovely and curved! I wonder what it feels like?” asked Ruby. She wriggled forward until her skinny thighs were astride my hips. She took hold of my length and held me upright, pressing my knob against her coarse ginger fleece. She started to move her hips, so that I rubbed against her curls. She looked at me, winked, and started to lift her hips, pressing my cock head against her feminine parts.
“Ruby, no!” ordered Cook. "It's not appropriate! Not at all! You don't have his Lordship's permission!"
"Bugger that!" said Ruby, guiding me to her entrance.
“Go on, Ruby! Take him!” encouraged Jenny.
“Yes, do!” said Ethel, staring in stupefaction. I felt myself starting to slip into Ruby’s hot entrance as she lowered herself onto me.
“Ooooh!” sighed Ruby.
“Is good?” asked Ingrid. Madeleine, who was standing level with my chest, started to stroke her parts.
“So good! So bloody good!” said Ruby, as I slid part way into her. "Christ! What a knob!"
“Ruby! Stop cursing!” said Cook, nevertheless leaning forward to get a better view. One of her erect nipples brushed my shoulder.
“Ah, the mystery of the disappearing staff has been solved!” came a voice from the kitchen. The girls all turned around to face the door and as I looked between them I saw Lady Hoxton, standing in the doorway, dressed in a cream peignoir. Ruby jumped out of the bath like a leaping salmon and the girls all started grabbing their clothes.
“Sorry your ladyship!” said Cook. “You could have rung for us. No need to come down here!” I knew that many owners of large houses never visited the kitchens. It was just not done.
“We were just having some fun!” said Jenny, pulling her drawers over her wet body.
“I am sure you were but we have eleven guests and twenty two prostitutes to look after!” said Lady Hoxton.
“I thought we had twelve guests,” said Cook, drying her impressive bosom with a thin towel.
“I am including Caroline with the whores!” said Lady Hoxton. “Now, Ethel, get some more hot water, as I am going to replace Mr Molloy in the bath. Lord James insisted on taking me fully dressed and I perspired quite heavily, so I would like to bathe and change before lunch. Madeleine you may undress me. Ingrid you can fetch my blue day dress and underthings. The white stockings I think and the blue and white striped corset cover.
“Yes your Ladyship,” said the two maids, curtseying, still naked.
“Well Cook, it’s not like you to frolic with the guests!” said Lady Hoxton as Madeleine removed her peignoir for her, to reveal elaborate lacy underthings.
“No your Ladyship. So sorry your ladyship.” aaid Cook.
“Well, all the other guests were busy or out and Mr Molloy was wandering the corridors like a lost soul, so he was,” said Ruby.
“I see, so naturally you all thought that the best thing to do to occupy him would be to strip naked and wash yourselves in front of him,” said Lady Hoxton “and then get him into the bath too?”
“That was just how it was, indeed!” said Ruby.
“And how did you find Mr Molloy?” asked Lady Hoxton.
“Curved!” said Ethel, the gap toothed scullery maid. Cook jammed her elbow into the girl’s ribs.
“Curved?” asked Lady Hoxton.
“Like a banana! Only bigger!” said Jenny.
“Much bigger!” said Ruby.
“Well, well, Mr Molloy, you interest me increasingly. However, I intend to have my bath free of bananas and other distractions, so you may retire until I need my back washing, at which point I will invite you to return! Ruby you are a very naughty girl. No doubt Sutton will have to beat you again. Perhaps all of you!”
“As we was having a bath anyway we thought he might like to join us, your Ladyship, that’s all,3 said a terrified looking Ruby, "It was all my fault. Punish me not the others!”
“Firstly, Ruby, it is we were having a bath not we was. Plural dear. One maid was having a bath. Five maids and a Cook, who really should know better, were having a bath. Secondly, you should not bring guests down to the servants’ area. Thirdly, I was looking for Mr Molloy who has agreed to draw me. I spent some time seeking him out which was a waste of drawing time!” said Lady Hoxton as Madeleine removed her corset for her.
“Very sorry, milady!” said Ruby eyes downcast, as she did up her white blouse.
“I could draw you here, Lady Hoxton, if I had my materials,” I said. I had just begun to really enjoy maid’s bath time too. Fortunately, the shock of Lady Hoxton’s unexpected appearance had caused my erection to subside.
“Right Mr Molloy, you may fetch your drawing things now. I will avert my eyes while you get out of the bath and dress yourself!” said Lady Hoxton.
“I don’t mind you seeing me naked, Lady Hoxton!” I said standing up in the bath, although she had turned away from me.
“You do not appear to object to any woman seeing you naked, Mr Molloy, that is apparent!” I dried myself, although the towels were all quite wet, causing me to struggle somewhat to put my clothes back on. Ethel drained the bath and started to refill it with large jugs of water. Jenny assisted her.
“I am decent,Lady Hoxton!” I said once I had my trousers and shirt on. She turned back to look at me as Ethel brushed past me with another jug of hot water.
“I hope none of you girls relieved yourself in the bath!” said Lady Hoxton. “I know what James is like!”
“No, milady,” said Jenny. “We didn’t know if Mr Molloy would like that!” Ruby helpfully knelt and tied my shoelaces for me.
“Thank you Ruby!” I said.
“Thank you sir!” said Ruby. I hoped that Lady Hoxton had not been aware that I was actually penetrating the maid’s cunny when she entered the scullery. I looked at Lady Hoxton, standing there in her camisole and drawers, expectantly.
“I am not removing the remainder of my clothes until you leave, Mr Molloy. I am not as easy a conquest as these girls are!”
“Of course not, Lady Hoxton.” I said.
“Now do come along Ruby, stop staring at Mr Molloy like an adoring puppy! We need more water in here!” she said. “Help Ethel! You too Jenny! You may wait outside in the kitchen, Mr Molloy. Do not peer through the glass!” The white door between the kitchen and the scullery had windows in the top half. I stepped into the kitchen while Ruby closed the door leaving Madeleine to undress Lady Hoxton. I knew it just wasn’t really done to spend time in the kitchen. As a boy, I had always enjoyed being in our kitchen at home with cook, however, and even after the age when I was no longer expected to eat with cook I could often be found down there enjoying the smells.
“Why don’t you sit here and have a nice sherry while you wait!” said Cook, already reaching for two glasses.
“I think I might!” I said, listening to the sound of rolling water from next door as Lady Hoxton settled into the partly filled bath.
“Do you have any plan for this evening sir?” asked Cook, taking a large swig of sherry.
“Plan? What sort of plan?” I asked.
“You know! Bag all the blondes. Score half a dozen. Get sucked off by all the titled ladies. That sort of thing! Many of his Lordship's guests have such a target.” she said, emptying her glass and pouring another.
“Bagging the Cook!” I joked.
“Oh alright, you talked me into it!” she said unbuttoning the first few buttons of her blouse.
“It was a joke, Cook. Lovely though you are!” I added, hastily.
“I know, sir. Got to keep your ammunition for later, eh?” she said.
“Something like that!” I agreed. “What sort of food are you preparing for tonight?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Turkish food! Pieces of meat grilled on skewers. Flat bread. Stuffed vine leaves. Olives.”
“How exotic! Where did you learn to cook those?”
“My family is from Greece. The Turks stole all their recipes from Greece. Stole everything from Greece!”
"What is your name, Cook?” I asked. Trying not to look at her cleavage as she had not done up the buttons of her blouse
“Marianna.”
“Well, I am very much looking forward to trying your delicacies later, lovely Marianna!”
“If only, sir!” I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. How much bolder I was these days. All my fear and nervousness around women had disappeared thanks to the amazing discovery that, at least, some of them had as well developed sexual desires as men. It was a revelation. We chatted about the food some more until Ruby came through the door from the scullery.
“Lady Hoxton is ready for her back wash Mr Molloy, so she is,” she said.
“If you will excuse me, Cook!” I said, standing up. When I re-entered the scullery Lady Hoxton was leaning forward in the bath, her arms across her breasts, presenting her long, lean back. Her skin was surprisingly tanned. An even, dark honey colour that could only have been acquired by bathing naked in the sun.
“Ah, Mr Molloy are you ready to give me a good hard scrub!”
“Why, are you particularly dirty?” I asked, removing my jacket and rolling up my shirtsleeves.
“Need you ask?” she said laughing. She handed me the sponge and some soap and I caught a brief profile view of her breasts which were conical in shape with very long nipples.
“No peeking, Mr Molloy!” she scolded.
“I am sorry I am not used to modest women!” I said.
“Oh I am not a modest woman! I just do not believe that you should open all your Christmas presents at once!” she replied.
“I always enjoy the anticipation of Christmas giving!” I said, soaping my hands.
“But do you enjoy giving more than receiving?”
“Indeed I do!” I said and placed my soapy hands on her prominent shoulder blades.
“Well, well, Mr Molloy! Straight to my bare skin without so much as the modest barrier of a sponge! You are a very forward young man, aren't you?”
“I am not overly fond of such barriers!” I said.
“If you disdain barriers you must be very sure of your discipline and know when to disengage.”
“A variety of techniques is called for depending on the object of the activity!” I said, sliding my hands down her narrow back, which had a deep cleft and well developed musculature either side of it. My thumbs slid into her dimples and then slid under the surface of the water to the curve of her posterior. My fingers caressed her haunches.
“Mr Molloy it seems you are forgetting the precise delineation of your object this morning!” She looked over her shoulder at me and gave me a wicked smile.
“I do find it difficult sometimes to comprehend exactly where the boundaries might be!” I said, sliding my hands up her sides and under her arms.
“That is quite apparent, Mr Molloy!” I tickled the sides of her breasts with my fingertips.
“And now to scrub away all your filth!” I said dunking the sponge in the water.
“That would take more muscle power than even you have!” she said. I started to rub her back and decided that she would probably enjoy rather more pressure than I would use on Edith or Daisy.
“How is that?” I asked rubbing the sponge across her lower back.
“Very invigorating indeed, Mr Molloy. You do seem to know what a lady requires!”
“Yes, indeed and I think you might require the backs of your legs washing!” I said.
“I think you might be stretching the definition of back somewhat!”
“I enjoy stretching a beautiful lady!” I said.
“You enjoy stretching their legs in particular? Apart, I would imagine.” “
"I like to see women flexing their muscles. As an artist who has studied human anatomy, I appreciate a finely toned musculature!”
“Likewise, Mr Molloy. Likewise!” She stood up, unexpectedly and water noisily cascaded down her lower body into the tub. Her legs were even more toned than Lady Crozier’s, with the backs of her thighs bellied with muscle and her calves firm and well defined.
“You have exceptionally well developed legs, Lady Hoxton!” I said in genuine admiration. I ran my hand down the back of a glistening thigh.
“Mr Molloy you are a very bold gentleman indeed but I should have guessed that, as you are one of James’ friends!”
“I am more by way of being a colleague,” I said, soaping her thighs. My fingers strayed around to the front of her legs.
“Mr Molloy, you are entering an area that is not included in the service requested!”
“It’s a delineation issue again, I fear!” I said, soaping her knees.
“It’s a bloody try on, that is what it is!” I slid my hand up the inside of her right thigh. She slightly parted her legs.
“It is a sensory delight, that is what it is. I do not think I have ever seen such a fine pair of legs in art or life.”
“Oh!” she gasped, as my index finger brushed her tailbone.
“That, Mr Molloy, to use a phrase that you will comprehend, is well beyond the Pale!” I sponged her soapy legs with water to rinse the lather away.
“You are done!” I said.
“No, that will come later!” she said, looking over her shoulder again.
“You are a splendid woman, Lady Hoxton!” I said and kissed her bottom quickly.
“And you are a very assertive young man indeed, Mr Molloy. I hope you can back up your flirtatious talk with action!”
“I will put you on my dance card!” I said.
“You are a cheeky bugger! Now leave me alone and give your blood time to redistribute itself!” she reached over and squeezed my groin to discover, of course, that I was as stiff as a pole. “Well, well! Perhaps now is the time to fetch your drawing materials,” she said. “Ask the maids for more hot water, I will wallow and consider my next move.”
I set off upstairs and resisted the urge to run, so as to get back to Lady Hoxton as fast as possible. What would Lord Hoxton think of me washing her back and then drawing her naked? He may well be furious but then he had been in intimate contact with Daisy. For all I knew they may have even fucked, after I went to bed the previous night. I wouldn’t put it past Daisy and she said she intended to do as much. I should ask Edith, I thought. I picked up my portfolio from the bedroom but removed the drawings I had already done from it as I did not wish for them to get damp. On the way back I passed the Turkish Salon. I looked up and down the corridor to ensure I was alone and then put my eye to the keyhole but I could see nothing. The key must have been in the lock. I listened intently, expecting to hear the inane chatter of women but there was silence. Then I heard a gasp. Then a moan. Something sexual was taking place inside but I could not work out what. Frigging? Gamahuching? I heard steps from around the corner and sprung away from the door. I resumed walking back towards the stairs down to the kitchen, trying to assume an air of innocence. Sally Sutton appeared from around the corner. She smiled at me but walked past me.
“No good comes of men who listen at doors!” she said. I turned back to look at her, feeling my blush coming on. She was looking at me “I thought so!” she said She turned and walked on, past the Turkish Salon. There was a loud ecstatic cry from inside. I knew it was Daisy. My heart leapt. At least there were no men in there. I hurried back down to the kitchen. Ethel was just emerging from the scullery with an empty jug.
“Just topping up the water, sir. Her Ladyship says you are to go in immediately!” There was no sign of Cook or any of the other maids. Even though the door was open I knocked, just in case.
“Come in Mr Molloy!” called Lady Hoxton. I stepped into the scullery but this time she made no attempt to cover her bosom. I tried not to look at her conical bubbies. As I had observed earlier, her body was not what I would have expected of a woman her age. I could really see no difference between her and Edith or Lady Caroline and they were over fifteen years younger. In many ways she looked younger, physically. Possibly only her neck, eyes, and forehead showed any real sign of ageing. Ethel reappeared with another large jug of hot water. “Keep them coming dear!” she said. She looked directly at me and wrinkled her forehead. “I have come to a decision, Mr Molloy!” she said, as I stood back a respectful seven or eight feet from the bath.
“About your drawing, Lady Hoxton?” I asked.
“No. I am quite clear on that. No it is about my bath. I think it would be considerably enhanced if you removed your clothes once more and joined me in it!”
“Really?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
“But what about Lord Hoxton?” I asked.
“Firstly, he is in Winchester. Secondly, he essentially left that whore Caroline’s bed and took me, rather forcefully, while his cock still reeked of her foetid juices and Thirdly..." She paused.
“Thirdly?” I prompted.
“Thirdly, it is none of his business and entirely my business who I bathe with. Now get undressed, there’s a good boy!”
“If you insist,” I said.
“I would hope that I still retain enough desirability that you should not feel forced but should welcome the experience, Mr Molloy!”
“You have desirability indeed, Lady Hoxton. But I may not be able to control how my body reacts to such desirability,” I said.
“Do not concern yourself with my reaction to your becoming erect, Mr Molloy. I would be disappointed if you did not!”
“But earlier,” I began, thinking of the way she had averted her gaze when I stepped out of the bath.
“Earlier was earlier and now is now!” she said. “A lady has the prerogative of being able to change her mind on a whim! Now hurry up!” I started to remove my tie. After a few seconds Ethel came into the room with another jug of hot water, which she poured carefully down by Lady Hoxton’s feet.
“Is Mr Molloy getting undressed again, Milady?” asked Ethel. “May I watch?”
“No. You will continue to fetch hot water until the cold water I drained out is replaced. Honestly, James gives you girls too much leeway!” Ethel frowned and left the room. I knelt down to remove my shoes and socks and by the time Ethel returned with the next jug of water I was down to my drawers. “Well it seems your timing is perfect, Ethel. Come along then Mr Molloy. Don’t be shy! You are keeping two women waiting!”
“Three!” said Cook from the doorway.
“I am not shy!” I said, pushing my drawers down over my hips. “Good God alive and no wonder!” said Lady Hoxton. The thought of entering the bath with Lady Hoxton had me at full tumescence. I did as Lord Hoxton had once advised and thrust my hips assertively forward. “Bugger me!” said Cook.
“You will have to wait your turn, cook!” said Lady Hoxton. “Come along Ethel! More water!” I climbed into the bath. Unlike Mrs Challenor’s at home and the ones in the hotel the lack of taps made it equally comfortable to sit at either end. “How old are you, Mr Molloy?”
“I do think, Lady Hoxton, that given we are sitting naked together in a bath you may call me Edmund!” She laughed. I recalled what Edith had said to me when I was in the bath with her, which seemed so very long ago. I smiled to myself. “And I am twenty three!”
“Twenty three. Good Lord. I’m old enough to be your grandmother! I had thought that you might be at least thirty. You look older. It must be a hard life digging peat from the bogs, I suppose. Ages you prematurely. You were lucky to escape from Ireland!”
“It’s been interesting in London, especially the last month or so!” I said. “I have never dug any peat in my life!” I added. No-one in England seemed to have any idea that living in Dublin did not involve bogs.
“Ah, the dinosaur expedition preparations! Yes, that must have been interesting.”
“Well, actually, it’s more to do with the women, if I may be frank,” I said.
“I do think, Edmund, that given we are sitting naked together in a bath you may be as frank as you like! Now tell me your story! Not your life story again. About the women!” I told her, in as delicate a way as I could, how my romantic fortunes had changed since Agnes had performed her ‘intimate act’ upon me. Ethel interrupted us several times with more hot water. Cook had been ordered away but kept glancing through the door as she busied herself in the adjoining kitchen. “Ethel dear if you are having such trouble keeping your balance that you have to support yourself on Mr Molloy’s muscular shoulder when you pour the water then perhaps we should get you to a doctor!” said Lady Hoxton.
“There is nothing wrong with me balance, Milady, I just like holding on to his body. It’s lovely!” said Ethel, giving me a gap-toothed smile, which at least meant that she had momentarily stopped looking at my manhood.
“Well, full marks for honesty!”
“Milady, may I ask Mr Molloy a question, please?”
“I suppose so. Just be quick, dear!”
“Mr Molloy, sir. When your thing gets all big and stiff like that can you control it?”
“Ethel! What a personal question!" laughed Lady Hoxton. However, you will soon learn that men’s pricks control them not the other way around!”
“How does that work? Do you have to suck them?” asked Ethel still staring at my member.
“You can do. Or just take hold of them and caress them like this!” said Lady Hoxton, taking hold of me and starting to stroke me. “If you add verbal stimulus too such as ‘Mr Molloy, have you ever done it in the bath, as I really think I’d like you sliding up inside me right this moment?’ then that helps,” she said, rubbing my member more firmly, “See, it is starting to swell again very nicely. Oh my goodness, there it goes!” She let go of me briefly and watched as I reached full tumescence. “It’s so curved!”
“Are they not all like that, Milady”
“Few are as nice as Mr Molloy’s!”
“Sir, can I touch it again?”
“Of course, Ethel!” I said, feeling like a laboratory experiment.
“Just a quick squeeze Ethel," said Lady Hoxton. "How old are you, girl?”
“Sixteen, Milady.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” said Lady Hoxton, wryly.
“That is good, Ethel!” I said as she clasped me, more firmly this time
“Ooh so nice!” said Ethel putting her fingers around me and pumping me gently. “Just lovely!”
“Right, now run along, girl, and close the door as we do not wish to be disturbed. No peeking either! Do you hear me, Cook?” Ethel smiled at me, scooted out of the scullery and closed the door. “Well, I think we can safely say that you made that young girl’s day! What I fail to understand and what I fail to understand of James’ behaviour as well, is why two such attractive men feel the need to go with prostitutes when you are well able to attract women for intimate activity with no problem whatsoever!” My explanation included the ‘nice women didn’t do it’ argument, the ‘my first time’ argument, the ‘joy of different body types and even races’, the ‘some men like unusual behaviour they could not ask their wives to indulge in’ argument (‘Ah, yes that would be James,’ she laughed) and several others I struggled to put into comprehensible form. “Your prick does your thinking for you, in other words!” said Lady Hoxton, still stroking it. “Just as I told Ethel! Sorry, I am teasing! What is your prick thinking at the moment?” she asked.
“What do you want it to think, Lady Hoxton? It is, perhaps, thinking at this moment that any further activity with the stepmother and lover of his host may be a very poor idea indeed!”
“James isn’t my lover. We do it once a year for old times’ sake. He was not in the country on our anniversary last summer and I have not seen him since. It is a peculiar tradition I admit. I probably should have given it up years ago. I am not short of virile masculine companionship in France, I should add!”
“I am not surprised. You are a beguiling and lovely woman indeed!” I said.
“You do posses the Irish blarney, Edmund, even if your peat cutting skills are not as developed as they should be. This however,” she said rubbing my member with a few rapid strokes, “has developed very well indeed! So, have you ever done it in a bath?”
“Not actually in a bath, no!” I said but she was already climbing on top of me. There was not room for her to get comfortably astride me, given she was rather larger than Ruby, so she sat on my groin with her legs stretched out in front of her. She put her weight on one buttock and placed me inside her. She wriggled on me a bit and I tried pushing up but it was not an ideal position.
“This bath is not as large as it might be!" she said. I had thought it very large indeed. My bath in France can easily accommodate three adults, not just one man and a few skinny housemaids. Getting leverage is proving difficult!” she said, pulling off me. “I will kneel and you will take me from behind. You may kiss and caress me as much as you desire! I am not a prostitute! You may also spend inside me. I am well past childbearing age.” She turned around and grabbed hold of the end of the bath. It was much easier once we were both on our knees. I guided myself up into her heat. I kissed her neck and shoulders and played with her breasts as I thrust away. The bath water sloshed about and started to go over the edges as we increased our pace. She was a noisy partner, crying out and gasping. I felt that we were being watched and I looked towards the door to see Cook looking back at me. She blew me a kiss and kept watching, although the window was getting quite steamed up. “Any time you like, Edmund, you will wait all morning for my paroxysm!” This did not take me long and I soon began to empty my ballocks inside her. Afterwards, she lay on top of me, face up, her legs splayed wantonly over the sides of the bath.. I carried on caressing her breasts, belly, hips and moss. I slid my fingers into her soft cleft. “Just as you seek the adventure of a new body at Madame Nathalie’s so I like to occasionally take a lusty young man hours after I have first met him. It confirms my desirability. Sad but true. I dread the day when I will be politely rejected.”
“That is not going to happen for some time!” I said, slipping a finger inside her.
“But eventually,” she said. She twisted around and kissed me on the lips. “Now out you get and time for a quick sketch of me in the bath. Monsieur Bonnard posed me standing up with a towel but the temperature here is not quite as convivial as it is by the Mediterranean! He did not, of course, have me first!” I climbed out of the bath, dried myself and opened my portfolio. I started to put my drawers on but she forbade it. I was half expecting my paper to be soggy but it was perfectly dry. I decided to use charcoal and had her kneel up in the bath. After fifteen minutes I showed her the sketch. She was very pleased and asked if she could keep it. I wondered if I should give up journalism and make a living doing portraits. Naked portraits of women of a certain age. A little artistic licence could take them back, visually, to their glory days, I thought, although Lady Hoxton needed no artifice. Madeleine came in with Lady Hoxton’s clothes. She helped her dress while I dressed too. Ethel came in to empty and clean the bath. She and Madeleine admired my drawing as did Cook, who came in to have a look as well. “Did you enjoy watching us Cook?” asked Lady Hoxton as Madeleine helped her on with her day dress.
“Very much, Milady!” she answered. “Still very athletic, aren’t you Milady?”
“Cook, you are quite the cheekiest woman in a house full of cheeky servants!” said Lady Hoxton. “I always suspect that if James breaks his rule about forgoing relationships, to put it politely, with the staff then it would most likely be with you!”
“The way to a man’s heart is not just through his prong, Milady!” She rubbed her stomach.
“Yes, the ability to produce sublime fruitcake does give you a distinct advantage, I shouldn’t wonder!” said Lady Hoxton. “No doubt you are looking forward to tonight’s debauchery!”
“Very much, milady. Always enjoy watching people at it!” said Cook.
“Myself, as well, Cook. Right, Madeleine, now I am respectable we need to attend to my hair which is not. Back to work, Cook. Luncheon for the ladies soon!” I followed her up the stairs to the main house with Madeleine following behind us. “Thank you, Edmund, for my drawing. You must do some more of me. Thank you for the other activity to. I do believe that you are felicitous of the lady’s enjoyment, unlike James, which I appreciated. He does just see women as a collection of walking orifices. You, I think, enjoy the whole woman.”
“If the woman is not enjoying it then I am not either!” I said, as we paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“An attitude which will serve you in good stead!” she smiled. There was a loud ecstatic cry from behind the Turkish Salon door down the corridor. “Well someone else is enjoying themselves too, although I cannot really understand the appeal of woman to woman relations. It is becoming rather fashionable in France. Something linked to female emancipation, I think. I much prefer this!” she patted me on the groin. “I would not wish to give you an exaggerated idea of your own worth, Mr Molloy, but yours is the most impressive I have ever seen!”
“It really is,” sighed Madeleine. I started to blush, of course.
