"Ye'll not be too rough an' hungry, will ye, Captain Alan?" she asked in a soft voice. "Mean t'say… ''
"I've simple, normal tastes, if that's your question," he assured her, feeling warm enough to undo his cuffs and slide out of his silk shirt. "Nor am I a brute. Mind though… it has been a long time. But, we have 'til dawn, or a little later, I'm assured. I doubt we'll go through the whole dozen. But… ya never can tell, am I inspired?" he said with a grin. "And you are inspiring."
They sipped at their champagne, he faster than she, and set his empty glass on the night-stand. He turned back, and she was waving her empty at him with a bolder grin of her own.
"Should I snuff some candles?" she asked as she slid down in the bed, sweeping her long hair to one side.
Only three single candles barely illuminated the small room; it was all amber and gently flickering shadows. Now they were silent, he could hear what was going on in the other cubicles; the rhythmic thud of mattresses and the squeaking of slats or ropes, urgent grunts, moans, and throaty soft laughter.
"Not right now," Lewrie said, sliding over to hold her close, to kiss her throat, her shoulders, and nuzzle below and behind of her ears. He moved up to her forehead, her cheeks, and her chin, testing whether she was the sort of whore who'd kiss for real, or turn her head away to feign passion. His lips found hers, and they were very soft and sweet as she allowed him… then, after a few light, teasing kisses, parted her lips and met him, measure for measure.
His free hand gently slid under her chemise to roam over her hip, and trail spider-soft down her thigh, then back up slowly, roving over the back of her leg 'til he could cup a firm, baby-bottom-soft buttock and stroke a circle; expanding wider to her waist. Tess shifted beside him, parting her thighs wide enough for him to put a leg between them, and feather his fingers from her waist to her belly, then down to her fluff. Her arms were round him, her kisses more urgent, and the musk of her breath intensifying. She slid a hand down to her waist-sash and undid the loose knot so he could tickle his hand up her back, above her waist, cross her rib cage, and slide the chemise up even higher.
"Let's have this off, sweetness," he growled, helping her lift it free over her head, and she flung it away, with no care for where it landed, then flung her arms round his neck, beginning to moan kittenish as he buried his face against her neck and hair.
"Oh, Captain Alan! Uhmm! Oh, yes, ooh!" Tess whispered, her fingers in his thick hair. "Ah, that's darlin'!"
It was such a sham, almost enough to put him off for a moment, yet he was determined, almost challenged, to take her beyond the play-acting, before the night was done. One last open-mouthed bout of kisses, and he slid down her body to her breasts.
Not all that large, yet soft and milky, and delightfully scented. His tongue rimmed her puffy pink areolae and nipples, smiling to himself as they went taut as he licked, flicked, and assayed a shuddery play-nip that made her moan a tad more authentically.
Lower down, bestowing attention on her sides, her ribs, and she went onto her back, slim thighs parted further to make room for him when he got to her stomach, her belly, her navel, and Tess's hips were slowly rolling and beginning to push up to him.
"Ooh, ooh, ah!" Tess uttered as he gained the deliciously soft tops of her inner thighs, and she lifted her knees, shifting again and widening her legs as his hot breath stirred her corn-silk-fine patch of fluff, kissing her belly above it, and feeling her stomach shudder.
If that ain't real, then it's one hell of a trick! he thought.
To the seat of pleasure at last, tongue and lips on her cleft, and she smelt so clean, for a moment, before the musk arose, as Tess went from dryness to dampness, then to slickness as he pressed his face to her.
There'd been a courtesan in his teens, then a Chinese whore in Canton, who had titteringly instructed him in how to pay attention to "the little man in the boat"… not just a brief visit, but a lengthy stay,… and the result he could conjure with what the Chinese girl had called "the hummingbird." And damned if he would go anywhere else 'til he'd lit a proper fire… an honest fire.
It seemed to be working, for Tess's fingers clawed in his hair, at his scalp, her hips jouncing up in time with his tongue, panting in rhythm, and mewling soft yelps and urgent whines.
"Oh, oh, oh Jesus, Joseph an' Mary, oh God, m'dear, uhm!" she whimpered, her hands now clamped round his head, knees almost to her chest, shoving him into her groin. "Oh, God in Heaven, ye bastard…! Yes, yes, yess! Ahhhaa!" she wailed, arching her back, "Ah, ye darlin' man, oh Jaysus!" She froze of a sudden, loins pressed upward hard and her thighs gripping his head, her arms flung outside the blankets, to grip the pillows and the edge of the mattress, to claw the sheets. A moment more stiffness, and she collapsed with a shudder, croaking from a dry throat, gasping for air as he swarmed up her to take her in his arms, shift to lie on his side and stroke her all over.
"My dear," Tess said with a shaky laugh once she'd gotten her breath back. "My God, but where'd ye learn that 'un? I never… ''
"I told ye the Navy'd see ye right, dear Tess," he chuckled.
"Faith, if ye haven't. Whush!" She fanned herself with the bed covers. "But… isn't it time ye fetched one o' yer cundums an' had ye're own pleasure?" she whispered, beaming with fun.
"I do believe you're right, sweet 'un," Lewrie heartily agreed, Before he could turn over to fetch one, though, Tess swarmed over him to the drawer of the night-stand and pulled one out.
"Your turn," Tess whispered, a playful leer on her face for a moment. "My turn," she added, tossing back the covers and slipping down to his erection to tie the cundum on… but not before her lips tasted him, licked, and surrounded its top, her mouth and breath hot and wet and maddening!
" 'Tis a fearful big thing ye own, Captain Alan," Tess said as she rolled away, opening herself to him. "But I do believe I'll manage… d'ye start out gentle."
In the candlelight, her eyes shone with mischief, and her mouth pouted so very prettily, her lips slightly apart. "Now, sir?"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As the bells of London chimed the hour of one in the morning, a very pleased, and smug, Alan Lewrie allowed himself to imagine that he was not yet that old; that he did main-well for a fellow who'd reached his thirty-eighth year. His birthday had occurred a week before, to no particular notice from anyone else, friend or family.
"Hmm," he purred into Tess's hair as she lay half atop him, one slim thigh between his, and her belly sticky-damp against him. "Mmm!" was her matching purr as he stroked her back and kissed her cheek.
"Ye're feelin' sleepy yet, darlin'?" Tess asked, her head upon his chest.
"Is that a wish, Tess?" he asked, chuckling.
"Faith, it is not," she answered, propping her chin on him, to peer drowsily sweet into his eyes, with that fetching wee, shy grin of hers breaking out on her face. "I was only wond'rin' do ye feel a wee bit peckish. Should I ring for somethin' t'eat?"
"Besides your sweet self?" he teased.
"Sweet Jesus," she said, laughing softly, "sure and ye'll be th' end o' me,… an' starve me into th' bargain."
"Sounds good. I am hungry," Lewrie decided. "What might they have?"
"Well, each ev'nin', there's an invitation supper," Tess said, rolling away to grope at the foot of the bed for her heavy robe. "For the regular customers. More o' what they call a buffet than anythin' else… tonight was ham, roast beef, an' goose, an' there's sure t'be plenty left… enough for sandwiches."
"Aye, ring for something," Lewrie told her. "We might not need another whole bottle, but… we could stay awake long enough to finish one. Another bloody guinea."
"Sure t'be part of a bottle left by others, in the parlour," she speculated as she quickly dressed, and hopped out of bed to search for her shoes. "Be back in a tick."