Read Hot Buttered Strumpet Online
Authors: Mina Dorian
Tags: #Historical - Victorian England/ Ménage à Trois/ Multiple Partners
A Total-E-Bound Publication
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Hot Buttered Strumpet
ISBN # 978-0-85715-585-6
©Copyright Mina Dorian 2011
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright June 2011
Edited by S.F. Swift
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank,
Ruston
Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.
This story has been rated
Total-e-melting.
HOT BUTTERED STRUMPET
Mina Dorian
Dedication
To T., for many a well-aimed and thoroughly needed kick in the butt.
Chapter One
She wasn’t, strictly speaking, his type. He usually preferred petite blondes with perky tits. This woman was too tall, too lush. Hell, there was too much of her in all directions. When she walked through the bar, heads turned and mouths opened, which was probably an advantage in her line of work.
Wren
Delahaye
stared at the barmaid as she deftly served her customers. This wasn’t one of the small, private beer-houses that had sprung up all over town after the 1830 Beer Act almost a decade ago. The taproom of the public house on London’s seedy waterfront was large and more than half the tables were taken, even so late on a blustery autumn evening.
The barmaid wove her way among the tables, expertly avoiding groping hands and pinching fingers while keeping the men hooked with her lovely smiles. And she truly was a sight—wild reddish curls framed her round, lightly freckled face like a halo. Her bright green skirt that matched the emerald colour of her eyes swished around her legs at every step. Her ample breasts threatened to burst out of her corset when she leaned over to serve a customer another tankard of ale, the tops of her rosy nipples clearly visible through her white linen blouse. When she walked, her hips swayed from side to side like tidal waves.
Those broad, womanly hips weren’t half bad, actually. Wren wondered about the barmaid’s pussy. Would she be a redhead down there as well? The thought of spreading her creamy thighs made his cock stir.
His brothers, both already foxed to the gills, followed the direction of his gaze. They had come to this part of town, slumming as it were, for want of something better to do on a boring Wednesday evening. However, no one had contested the right of three well-dressed gentlemen to be here, although they had certainly been ready to knock the breath out of anyone who tried, just for a little sport. As sons of an army officer who had been rewarded with a peerage for his services at Waterloo, they hadn’t been gentlemen long enough to forget how to fight dirty.
In the absence of a good brawl there really was something to be said for the entertainment the stunning barmaid offered. As she made her way across the room towards them, Robert’s mouth fell open, a tiny rivulet of dribble running down his clean-shaven chin making him, for once, look like a complete idiot. Thomas jumped from his chair, toppling the piece of furniture over backwards in the process, and yelled, “
Oy
, you!
Cumoverhere
!” much too loudly since the woman was already passing their table.
Wren tried to pull his older brother back down. Thomas could be a real pain in the arse when he was drunk. Like right now. Ignoring Wren’s hand on his arm, the tall man took an unsteady step forward and caught the red-haired barmaid’s wrist in a painful-looking grip, steadying himself by holding on to the edge of the table with the other hand.
“
Wannahavagudtime
?” he garbled, leering at her tits.
She looked at him with a cool gaze from narrowed green eyes that seemed to question
Thomas‘ ability
to give anyone a good time, drunk or sober.
Wren decided to rescue her, although she didn’t really look like she needed rescuing. “Don’t listen to him, he’s drunk,” he said, smiling at her apologetically.
“I can see that,” she answered in a low, husky voice that went straight to his groin. “And I don’t do drunks.” She brushed off
Thomas‘ hand
, dismissing the tall man completely as she took in Wren’s appearance with a slow, appreciative glance.
God, Wren thought, why couldn’t the society misses his mother kept dragging him to meet be more like this?
The woman smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with hidden emerald fire. “What about you, sir? Would you like to offer me a good time, too?”
He swallowed hard, a little shocked by her directness. Usually wenches were attracted by Robert’s angelic looks or
Thomas‘ easy
banter, ignoring him unless he made the first move. He got his fair share of women, sure enough, but he usually had to approach them himself, if he wanted some. His hardening cock interrupted his line of thought, informing him that, indeed, he did want some. Preferably right now. It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to work this out and he began to nod quite vigorously then managed a choked, “That would be nice.”
I sound like a complete fool.
But the woman smiled again and leaned over him to whisper in his ear. “I finish work at two. Take a room upstairs and leave your door open for me.” Her breathy voice tickled his ear and her position offered him an unobstructed view of her ample breasts and pert, pink nipples. He almost came then and there. He closed his eyes for a moment to get his rampant erection under control. When he opened them again, he saw her walking back towards the bar, her glorious hips swaying with every step she took.
* * * *
Wren lay on the large bed in a sparsely furnished but surprisingly tidy room above the bar. A fire was dying down in the hearth and the room was comfortably warm. There was a candle on the washstand across the room and two more were burning on low tables on each side of the bed, so the room was light enough. He had decided to leave the candles lit so he could see what she looked like without all those skirts on. Wren wasn’t much in favour of women’s fashionable clothes. In his opinion, they concealed far too much.
The anticipation was almost killing him. He had briefly contemplated jacking off but had decided against it. He wanted to come inside her at least twice tonight, taking first her mouth then her pussy and maybe the back entrance later, if he could muster the stamina. Those lush hips surely had him hooked on her arse.
Wren sighed. He had heard a church clock strike two a while ago and the noises from downstairs were fading as the last patrons left the bar and staggered home. He felt as if he had been lying here for hours on end, but it couldn’t have been more than one. He had wanted to send the drunken Thomas off with Robert, but he hadn’t been sure if they would make it home safely. So he had taken a second room for the two of them to sleep off the cask of ale they seemed to have shared earlier. Then he had taken a walk outside, trying unsuccessfully to get his uncomfortably hard erection under control. When he got to his room a little later, he poured water into the bowl on the washstand and cleaned his hands, face and cock. He wanted to make a good impression on her. Even barmaids must prefer to suck clean cocks.
As he lay on the bed, he listened for footsteps on the stairs but didn’t hear anything. He began to wonder if the wench had merely been trying to make some money from having him let a room. After all, why should she want to share his bed?
Just when he was becoming impatient enough to get up and go downstairs in search of her, he heard the door open quietly and a reddish shock of hair appeared in the crack. She looked straight at him, then smiled and opened the door wider. She bent at the waist to pick up something she had obviously set down outside the door before peeking in. When she entered the room he saw that it was a tray covered with a rough blue cloth. She set the tray on the low bedside table and uncovered a tankard of ale, a few slices of coarse brown bread, some cheese and a small dish containing butter as well as two apples and half a cucumber.
Wren’s stomach growled and she giggled. “Thought you might be hungry after all the waiting, sir,” she said, smiling at him.
She sat on the side of the bed, spread butter on a slice of bread, put some cheese on top and handed it to him. Wren took a large bite and realised that the bread was quite good, as was the cheese. He smiled back at the wench. She nodded and buttered another slice of bread, which she ate with relish.
It was strange, just sitting with her, sharing a meal in silent companionship. Somehow more intimate than fucking her would have been. Wren chewed on his bread, contemplating the woman. She looked younger than she had downstairs, certainly younger than
his own
thirty-two, and more vulnerable. Wren realised that she had been putting on a show for the sake of the customers in the bar.
He liked her better with her guard down. He wanted to know more about her, but he’d feel strange blurting out questions. So he continued to eat in silence, enjoying the moment of closeness.
After eating two more slices of bread and an apple each he was
done,
and it appeared she was also. She handed him the tankard of ale. He drank, then gave it back to her and leant back against the headboard of the big bed. When she set the tankard on the table, he patted the mattress next to him. “Come and join me,” he said.
She smiled, and crawled across the bed towards him on all fours, her lush breasts spilling over the top of her corset. His cock reacted instantly, straining against his breeches. She smiled a wicked little smile. “Would you like to feed me some dessert, sir?” she asked innocently.
Wren’s brain went blank, but his cock must have nodded his assent because she reached for the fastening of his breeches, deftly unbuttoning him to set his shaft free.
She crept closer and took him into her
mouth,
licking around the top with a quick, soft tongue, then took him deeper until the head of his cock hit her throat. Her mouth was warm and wet against his rigid flesh and, when she swallowed, the movement of her throat drew Wren’s groan. He closed his eyes in delight, unable to think of anything but the pleasure she was giving him. Her low moans sent delightful vibrations through his shaft, and he realised she was enjoying herself too.
The woman began to move her mouth up and down in a slow, maddening rhythm that would drive him over the edge all too quickly. Her teeth grazed the sensitive head of his cock and his eyes flew open.
She was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Her full red lips were closed tightly around him and her rosy cheeks sucked inward to create the perfect amount of pressure as she roved up and down his erect shaft. The combined pleasure of feeling her and seeing his cock disappear into her mouth then appear again swollen and slick with saliva almost made him come. She didn’t take her eyes off his face nor her mouth from his cock, but her eyes sparkled with mischievous pleasure when she popped her breasts entirely out of her strained corset and began to play with her hot pink nipples. Damn, she was good at this!
Wren groaned, wanting to close his eyes again in bliss, but unable to take them off her for even a second. She pulled on her nipples. They grew tight and she closed her eyes, moaning with pleasure.
When she took one hand from her breast to caress his balls and roll them around in their soft pouch, Wren couldn’t take it any more. He came long and hard, spurting hot semen into her mouth while she sucked and swallowed him down. His cock jerked as spasm after glorious spasm shook him and she moaned around him again.
He spent into her mouth for what felt like ages, feeling her throat working as she swallowed it all, licking every last drop from his shaft. She continued to suck and lick him greedily like a bear with a sweet tooth feasting on a honeycomb. When the last spasms of his orgasm finally subsided, Wren closed his eyes and rested his head against the headboard in tired contentment.
It took him quite some time to recover from the ground-shaking orgasm she had given him. The truth
was,
when the door creaked, he had to jerk his eyes open, almost afraid she had decided to leave him when there was no more fun to be had. But she was still there, kneeling on the bed still fully-dressed, except for those glorious full breasts, which were pressed impossibly upwards by her corset. Her head was turned towards the door and he followed her gaze, only to groan in disbelief when he saw both his brothers crowding into the room.
“Decided to have a little fun just by
yourself
?” Thomas growled. And Robert gave Wren a lewd grin that told him very clearly that there was no way in hell that Wren could keep the goods all to himself.
The wench looked back at him with a tentative smile that took in his now-flaccid cock and the way his sated body slumped against the headboard like a half-empty wineskin. Then she turned back to his brothers. “Come join us, sirs. There’s enough to go around,” she said.
Robert and Thomas were on the bed and on her in less than two seconds, with Robert leaning over her to kiss and nibble at her breasts while Thomas began to untie the fastenings of her blouse and skirt with deft, no longer tipsy movements. When the garments didn’t give way quickly enough, he lifted the woman and set her on her feet before him to get a better grip on her ties. She giggled and let him, obviously enjoying the attention.
Wren realised that his brothers must have slept off their intoxication fairly well, while he was waiting for the wench. He also realised that he was about to be left out of the fun, which was, of course, not to be tolerated. He rose from the bed and pushed away
Thomas‘ eager
hands at the woman’s waist.
Thomas resisted for a moment,
then
let Wren pull down her skirts, underskirts and knickers while he helped Robert strip her out of her blouse until she stood in nothing but her white stockings and rose-coloured corset, which complemented her silky white skin to perfection. Wren’s cock stirred again at the sight of her soft, creamy thighs and the triangle of dark red curls that crowned them.
Thomas grabbed the woman at the waist and sat her on the bed to unroll her left stocking and Wren followed suit with the right one. When she tried to unlace her corset, Thomas stopped her hands. “No,” he said. “Leave it on. It looks lovely with your breasts topping it.” He stroked the underside of her breasts admiringly and a blush spread over her face and upper body.