Treymont Daniel Hunt, the sixth Earl of Wynthmere did not think that he would especially enjoy marital bliss with his fiancé, Lady Annette Dershing, whom he had taken to calling a “poor little peahen,” to himself. Who could blame him for being just a little unenthusiastic – his former mistress Lady Serena, a voluptuous woman, had only just begun to satisfy his carnal appetites when Annette was foisted upon him. His mater, confound her, knew exactly how to get under his skin and with the help of Sir Laurence, Lady Annette’s father, he found himself engaged and married within weeks. Now what was a big man with his special needs to do with a young, never been kissed virgin? Join Trey as he finds out that bigger is not always better and lush surprises are often hidden beneath plain brown wrappers.
She was standing on the small step stool he had purchased for her before their wedding, knowing she would have trouble climbing into the bed without it. She turned toward him, slowly, maybe in order to let his befuddled mind comprehend her state of undress. Because there she was – standing in the middle of the room, drapes open, sunlight flooding through the room, engulfing her already golden skin. His wife, whom he had thought demure, whom he’d actually thought a plain, unexceptional miss, was before him in all of her glory, rose-nippled, her brown hair cascading to her waist, fingers cupped around her own, above average breasts, pointing them at him as if a signal for him to begin to suckle. Big Devil reared himself forcefully and Trey nearly ran to the center of the room to meet her after slamming the door with his foot.
“By God Annette, what are you doing? The drapes are not drawn. Someone might see you,” His voice came out a rasp. He was so close that her raspberry hued nipples touched his white lawn shirt. She smiled at him mischievously and set to rubbing them against his chest, slowly, seductively, a siren that made his blood boil. She laughed.
“Then perhaps you might want to close the drapes, my Lord.” He couldn’t move. His feet were planted on the floor; he closed his eyes. The image of her rubbing his chest, circling his hard nipples with hers almost made him lose control. He had to step back. He went to the curtains to close them, trying to control his member but not having any luck. He returned, to stand near her. With the step stool, they were almost eye to eye. She leaned forward, her lips parted and kissed him, immediately moving her tongue over his bottom lips. His hands went to her hips and moved her close against the Big Devil, reveling in the smoothness of her skin, its heat, and how her tongue jousted with his. She moaned slightly. His hands went to her backside and he ground himself even more intimately to her, his mind awash with thoughts of taking her as fast as he could.
Trey picked her up and placed her on the edge of the bed. He moved forward and began to undress while he kissed her. He flung his shirt off and she began to kiss his neck and the hair on his chest. They were not the practiced kisses of a courtesan. He knew those intimately. But these inflamed him more. Despite her boldness, he sensed in her little knowledge. He would have to teach her and the thought made him hotter still. She made no move to touch him, to free him from his clothes. He stepped back, eyes on hers while he sat on the stool to remove his boots and then stood to tug down his pants. He didn’t want to frighten her but he could no longer keep his appendage stuffed inside his trousers. When he saw her eyes trapped on it, watching, he couldn’t help but be as wicked as she had been earlier. He reached down to stroke its length. Her eyes were as big as saucers.
“Have you ever seen one of these before, love?”
She shook her head, fascinated.
“Come, touch me. It will excite me more but I will try not to spend so we will have time for sport.”
Her fingers were soft as a butterfly running up and down, touching his head, retreating to his sac.
“You can touch me harder than that. Here, let me show you.” He took her small fingers in his and showed her the motion that might bring him to completion much sooner than he wanted. He let her tug on him for a few minutes more and then reached down to stop her.
“Did I hurt you?” She asked because his face had suffused to a dark red and he grimaced when she stopped pulling.
“No darling. It is very pleasing for a man to have a woman do these things. I am a fortunate husband to have a wife like you.” He saw her smile softly and he was glad that he said it. It was the truth. She was such a responsive little thing.
He climbed into bed with her then, pulling her to him, kissing her lips first. He bit her neck and sucked on her earlobes, all the while playing gently with the curls at the juncture of her legs. At first she stiffened, but her resistance melted as he continued to probe her mouth with his tongue. He moved to her breasts, first licking them delicately as one might an ice from Günter’s. But soon she’d had enough of the light caresses he gave her and she was pushing her nipples into his mouth. He couldn’t help but moan. He was on the verge of losing his seed like the greenest of school boys, so he took a last suckle, capturing one turgid nipple in between his teeth, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, before he let go. Trey could feel that she was almost ready. She was slick with nectar, as his fingers glided between her thighs, touching her little pearl. He imagined biting into a juicy peach and before he could prepare her, he found himself seeking her core, his tongue pushed inside of her. Her essence rained on his tongue. He couldn’t help himself. While he kissed and tasted her in that very special place, his hand went to himself. Even as he prayed for control, he feared he lacked it with Annette. She had invaded his very being.