Fine Silk Scarves
This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.
Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
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Professor Amos T. Wallchester rose to his feet when Lydia Wallchester entered the dining room, still bundled against the mid-February chill. Dutifully, the brunette beauty approached her husband and kissed his heavily whiskered cheek in greeting. He returned the gesture, clasping her dainty hands with his large hands. Professor Wallchester did move as if to grasp his wife about her waist and she playfully swatted at his impertinent hand.
The heels of her dainty leather boots struck the wooden floor with a sharp staccato rhythm as she strode to her chair. The table was a long dark wood table with seats for eight along the north and south of the piece. The master of the home sat at the western edge and the mistress was seated directly across from him at the eastern edge of the table. James, their manservant bowed slightly and pulled the young lady’s chair out for her. When Mrs. Wallchester had been seated, Professor Wallchester again took his seat.
Above the center of the table, the gas chandelier glittered, tiny jewels of light did dance about, reflected by the fine beveled crystals. The light cast more shadows than light but Professor Wallchester was able to see his lovely wife’s dark eyes, her slim nose and her rouged lips. Her complexion was pale, set off perfectly by her dark locks, one tendril constantly escaping her hair clip. Again, Lydia raised her gloved hand to brush the offending lock from her dark eyes.
James did take the lady’s mink wrap from about her shoulders and hung it carefully on the hat and coat stand in the corner. With a slight bow, he departed the room.
“Darling, how is the college coming on?” Lydia inquired, sipping from her wine glass.
“Tut-tut, my dear. Let us not speak of such trifling matters at the dinner table,” Professor Wallchester said, secretly pleased that his wife showed an interest in his endeavors.
“Then whatever shall we speak of?” she asked and nodded as James placed the small platter of cheese and bread before her.
“James my good man! Why is it that you serve our lady first? Am I not the master of this house,” Professor Wallchester pretended to be aggrieved.
“In truth, sir,” James said, no hint of a smile on his dour, clean-shaven face. “Her seat is much closer to the kitchen door. As I am up there in years, it is far too difficult for me to serve you first, sir.”
“Poppycock and balderdash, James,” Professor Wallchester stated even as the corners of his mouth did turn up. “You are but fifty one years of age. Hardly infirmed.”
“Yes sir, very well sir,” James said, returning to the kitchen.
For the rest of the meal, James did serve the master of the house first. It was a small game the servant and the master and mistress did play. The game had begun when the thirty seven year old master of the home did bring the eighteen year old bride into the manor. At their first meal in the Commonstead, New Jersey home, James served the lady the first course of the noontime meal to the manufactured consternation of Amos.
As they concluded dining upon the fine ham and roasted vegetables, Professor Wallchester wiped his lips with the linen napkin, then wiped his fingers clean. Placing his napkin upon the table, he rose to his feet and approached his young wife. With a smile, the young woman rose and raised a gloved hand. He took her hand into his and softly kissed her cheek.
“My darling Lydia, do come to the library; it has a fire already lighted and should be quite warmed,” Professor Wallchester bade.
“Coffee, sir?” James inquired, appearing in the doorway that led from kitchen to dining room.
“No, no, James. Not at this time,” Professor Wallchester said, leading his wife from the formal dining room to the main hallway.
The library was indeed sufficiently warmed by the crackling fire. Where the dining room was more shadow than light, the library was more light than shadow. The room was suited for its use; the studying of the large tomes arranged neatly upon the shelves that surrounded the room. The air held the smell of Professor Wallchester’s fine cigars and the smell of the fine leather and wood furnishings.
Professor Wallchester led his wife to a well stuffed horsehair settee and placed her upon the comfortable seat. He then strode to his ornate mahogany desk on the northern wall of the large room. Pausing for a moment, the stout man did look at the large wooden globe that sat upon the corner of his desk. The globe had been his Christmas gift from his beloved balıkesir escort wife upon their first Christmas together. Then, smiling, he lifted a package from the desk.
Turning, he smiled at his impatient wife. When Lydia saw the package in her husband’s hands, she smiled, her dark eyes glittering in the firelight.
“My darling, as you know, today is the fourteenth of February,” Professor Wallchester declared.
“Oh! It is! It is Saint Valentine’s Day!” Lydia cried out, clapping her gloved hands together. “Oh! Happy Valentine’s Day, my beloved husband!”
“Yes, yes, happy Valentine’s Day, my darling wife,” the man smiled, handing her the wrapped package.
Tearing the paper away and lifting the lid of the box, Lydia gasped with delight at the sight of the fine chocolates contained within. Immediately, she lifted one and placed it into her mouth, lips forming an adorable pout as she savored the rich flavors.
“Oh, thank you my darling husband,” Lydia praised, swallowing the morsel.
“And, I’ve another gift for you, my pet,” Professor Wallchester stated, retrieving a second, larger box from his desk.
“Oh! What, what is it, dear Amos?” Lydia demanded.
“Darling! My dear Lydia, to use my Christian name?” Amos smiled even as he attempted to appear cross with his impertinent wife.
“Oh. Pooh!” she declared, about to pluck another chocolate from the box seated upon her lap.
“Do open this gift,” Amos said, placing the second box to her left upon the settee.
“Very well,” Lydia said, placing the box of chocolates onto the low table directly in front of her.
She picked up the second box and tested its weight. She then carefully peeled the paper away. Again, testing the weight, Lydia then lifted the lid and gaped upon the numerous colorful silk scarves within the box.
“Oh! Darling! Scarves. So many colorful scarves! Oh! You are truly a delight, my dear Amos,” Lydia gasped, running her gloved fingertips along the neatly folded scarves of silk.
“This, my dear Lydia,” Amos said, plucking a rick black scarf from the box. “Should this go about my lady’s fair neck and shoulders? Or…”
“Or…” Lydia queried, holding her breath.
“Or perhaps about her eyes, blocking her vision,” Amos suggested in a low, sonorous whisper.
“About her eyes, oh about her eyes indeed,” Lydia whispered, shivering despite the heat from the fireplace.
So it shall be,” Amos said, walking behind the settee.
“Oh,” Lydia let out a low moan as Amos did place the scarf over her eyes, shielding her sight.
“Now, my dear, darling Lydia, this red scarf?” Amos asked, again plucking a scarf from the box. “Such a vibrant red, even more vibrant than those beautifully painted lips of yours. Shall this go about your neck and shoulders? It would certainly suit your beautifully coiffed tresses and that alabaster complexion of yours. Or should it be used to bind your delicate wrists?”
“”Wrists, oh, most assuredly the red scarf shall be used about my wrists,” Lydia groaned, her plump thighs rubbing together as she sat upon the soft, comfortable settee.
Amos removed the box from her lap and placed it upon his desk. Then he gently assisted his wife to her feet. He led her in her blindfolded state to stand close to his imposing desk.
“As you wish, my darling,” Amos whispered from behind her.
“Oh, yes, yes my love,” Lydia groaned as Amos reached around and slowly, oh so slowly unbuttoned her bodice.
He peeled the dress from her form. This left her in woolen girdle, half-skirt of wool decorated with fine needlepoint embroidery, stockings and ankle boots. For a moment, Amos cursed himself for neglecting to bring the buttonhook into his library. Then he reasoned; he rather preferred the look of his wife in stockings and highly polished ankle boots.
Bringing both hands behind her back, Amos did loop the red scarf around her wrists, binding her hands behind her back. He did take the liberty of softly kissing her right earlobe.
“Such delicate ears, my dear Lydia,” he whispered softly.
Plucking a second red scarf from the box, Amos bound her elbows together. This had the desired effect of thrusting Lydia’s well-formed bosom forward. This time, Amos reached around and ran his hand appreciatively over the exposed tops of Lydia’s breasts. Lydia sucked in a breath as Amos also gave a playful bite to her exposed right shoulder.
“This purple scarf? It is a royal color to be sure,” Amos said. This scarf. Should we place it about your bare shoulders? We should not want your shoulders exposed to a draft, would we?”
“I am not sure,” Lydia shivered, thighs clamped together.
“Or…” Amos said, softly caressing Lydia’s cheek with the delicate material.
“Or…” Lydia gasped out, shivering at the contact.
“Or… Should we perhaps bind that most bountiful bosom of yours? Bind those breasts tightly until they too become a lovely shade of purple?” Amos suggested.
“Bosom. You banaz escort should most assuredly bind my breasts,” Lydia cried out, twisting in her binds.
“But, my darling. Do remember; the sight of your bosom? It does inspire me to strike them,” Amos reminded her.
“Bosom and your strikes be damned,” Lydia cried out with a defiant pout.
“Very well. As you wish,” Amos chuckled, reaching for the stays of her girdle.
Even as the air in the room was quite warm, Amos did note that his wife’s large light brown areolae were tightly crinkled. He did note that her nipples were quite hard and protruded from her crinkled areolae. Looping the scarf around the base of her heavy breasts, Amos made sure the scarf was very snug about her breasts. To be sure, they did bulge and protrude obscenely from their binds.
“Ah, a deep navy blue scarf. Shall we place this scarf about your bare shoulders? Should we cover those beautifully bound breasts of yours? They are turning a beautiful, rich shade of pink now,” Amos said. “In fact, I do believe I shall assist with their coloring.”
Thus saying, Amos delivered an unexpected slap to Lydia’s left breast, making sure to strike her hard nipple. Lydia gasped and staggered slightly. Before she could right herself, a second slap struck her right breast.
“Oh, oh yes, yes my beloved,” Lydia gasped out, shuddering mightily as slaps rained down upon her bound, reddening breasts.
“Before I do bind you to this desk, my sweet, dutiful wife, would you perhaps desire a treat?” Amos asked, retrieving the box of chocolates.
“Yes, yes, a treat, a treat to be sure,” Lydia moaned.
Amos placed a hand on Lydia’s bare shoulder and pushed her to her knees. Lydia obediently opened her mouth for the treat.
“Now, do remember to suck the treat into your most remarkable mouth slowly,” Amos advised.
Lydia moaned happily as the chocolate entered her mouth. A moment later, she felt the tip of her husband’s manhood pressing against her pursed lips. Eagerly, she opened her mouth and welcomed the head of his rampant column of flesh. She slowly suckled his flesh, bobbing her head forward to take more of him into her mouth, then bringing her head back. With each push forward, she allowed more of him to enter her mouth, until her nose rested firmly against the scruff of stiff hairs that adorned the base of his manhood. She felt the bristle of hairs that covered his sac pressing against her chin. She held this position until the need for breath propelled her backward.
Sucking in precious air, Lydia did take a moment to enjoy, to savor the taste of her husband’s bitter essences as his excitement dribbled into her mouth. When coupled with the rich sweetness of the chocolate, the taste of her husband was quite enjoyable indeed.
“Oh! Oh, I spend!” Amos cried out a moment later and filled his wife’s sucking mouth with his seed.
Lydia gleefully swallowed her husband’s offering. She continued to suck, continued to use her soft tongue, continued to bob her head along the length of his long, thick manhood, attempting to coax more of his seed for her hungry gullet.
After catching his breath, Amos assisted Lydia in standing again. She very nearly toppled to her knees again as Amos delivered very stinging slaps to her dully aching breasts.
“My dear, your breasts are such a lovely hue of red now,” Amos chuckled, now twisting and tugging her painfully erect nipples in his two hands.
“Mmph!” Lydia grunted, unable to utter coherent words.
“Now, dear, dear Lydia, shall we? Shall we take this blue scarf? And this green scarf and bind your legs to this desk?” Amos asked, teasing her erect nipples with soft caresses with the silk scarfs.
“I, I should say so,” Lydia gasped out, thrusting her chest toward the teasing scarves.
Very well, as you wish,” Amos said and tugged her fine woolen skirt down over her luscious hips.
“Oh, oh do look upon those glorious hillocks of flesh, those bountiful globes,” Amos declared as he bared his wife’s full, round buttocks to his delighted gaze.
Her creamy skin was beautifully set off by the dark leather garters of her stockings, her dark gloves and the red scarves that bound her wrists and elbows. Her buttocks did protrude most delightfully, perched above her plump, pale thighs.
“And what is this?” Amos queried, seeing his wife’s bared sex.
“Juliette, Juliette did happen upon some tweezers,” Lydia confessed.
“And the two of you conspired to pluck out all of the hairs upon this pudendum?” Amos questioned, running his fingertips over his wife’s hairless mound.
“Yes, yes,” Lydia gasped, thrusting her crotch toward her husband’s fingers.
Amos conceded to his wife’s wishes, running his thick finger up and down along her glistening wet slit. He even delved his fingers within while using his thumb to massage her bud of pleasure. His wife did gasp and groan out loud as his fingers and thumb brought her closer and closer to bandırma escort her crisis.
“Ack! Oh! Oh Amos! Do not, do not vex me so,” she cried out when he abruptly ceased his diddling of her sex.
Without a word, Amos grasped her left leg in his powerful hand and brought her left foot to the leg of his desk. He wrapped the scarf around her dainty ankle and the sturdy leg of his rather heavy desk. Lydia did groan in tortured pleasure when he commented that the pretty emerald green scarf did make a pleasant contrast to her sheer stocking and her polished boot as he secured her right leg to the desk’s front leg. This had the effect of spreading her shapely legs wide, presenting her buttocks in a most unladylike pose.
“Oh my darling Lydia! The very sight of your well-formed posterior does inflame within myself a need, a voracious hunger,” Amos crooned, running his hands over her hillocks of flesh.
Lydia twisted her head about as she heard her husband slide open a drawer on his large desk. He had, of course, fastened the scarf about her head too securely and she was unable to see what he may have procured from his desk.
“Now, my darling wife, do bend,” Amos crooned, his firm hand pushing her shoulders forward.
Lydia gasped out when her aching, throbbing breasts rested firmly against the highly polished surface of his desk. She felt her cheeks redden as she thought of the most undignified pose she presented, bent over his desk, nude save for a few bindings.
Lydia let loose a shriek as Amos brought a wooden paddle to bear quite forcefully against her left buttock. His firm hand upon her shoulder let her know she was to endure the next swat and the next swat after with silence. The blow to her right buttock caused her to scream out, but she managed, barely, to hold the scream within her throat.
Ten blows, five to each round cheek of her posterior followed. Lydia bore the forceful swats with grunts and groans. Her body shook with the strain and she could feel her excitement, her need trickling from her sex, wetting the leather garters that held her stockings on her shapely thighs, even seeping into the silk cuffs of her sheer stockings. She whimpered, her need was quite urgent.
Lydia let out a scandalized gasp as she then heard her husband announce, “Juliette, my library if you would.”
The muffled response came from the voice pipe near the door of the library. Lydia felt her husband step up behind her awkwardly presented buttocks. She groaned and whimpered as his fingers caressed her inflamed flesh.
“Lovely. Quite lovely indeed,” Amos murmured. “Dear Lydia, you should see just how crimson your posterior has become. The paddle is truly a worthy addition to our pleasant pastime.”
“You called for me, sir?” Juliette asked, giving a soft knock at the door of the library.
“Yes, yes, Juliette, do enter. Your lady has need of your ministration,” Amos called out.
“Yes sir OH!” Juliette asked, then gasped out at seeing her mistress in such an unusual and revealing position.
“Come, be quick about it,” Amos ordered. “Do shut the door, Juliette.”
“I, sir, but…” Juliette said.
“Come, come young lady,” Amos ordered.
“Sir, yes sir,” Juliette said, standing next to her mistress and the master of the house.
“My lady’s pudendum. As of but four days prior did possess a most luxurious bed of brown curls,” Amos stated.
“Why, yes, in truth…” Juliette agreed, light brown eyes wide.
“My wife stated that it was yourself that thought to take tweezers and pluck the strands of hair that did cover her cleft,” Amos asked.
The ginger haired beauty mutely nodded her agreement. In truth, it had been herself to brandish the tweezers, it had been herself to suggest plucking the hairs that carpeted her mistress’s cleft, concealed the charms underneath. But it had been Lydia that had given her permission to proceed.
“And a lovely job you’ve done,” Amos congratulated the red headed servant. “I do believe I should reward your services. Lydia? As her mistress, do you believe fair Juliette should perhaps be given a chocolate?”
“Oh, most assuredly, dear husband,” Lydia gasped out, shifting in her position.
Lydia gasped out when she felt her husband’s fingers again at her hairless cleft. She shuddered and groaned out loud when she felt a chocolate confection forced into her inner depths.
“Oh, sir, thank you sir,” Juliette cried out happily.
Lydia squealed as she felt Juliette’s hot breath blow across her overheated sex. Lydia let out a low moan from deep within herself as Juliette used tongue and fingers to locate and remove the sweet treat Amos had thrust deeply within her sex.
“Oh dear God yes! Yes, I spend!” Lydia cried out as Juliette did suck briefly on Lydia’s bud of pleasure.
“Her bung hole, dear Juliette. Do not neglect her bung hole,” Amos ordered the obedient girl.
“The, my bug hole, Amo… Professor Wallchester?” Lydia gasped out.
“Yes, yes, the bung hole. After all, that would be the first step to ready that portal for my passage,” Amos did order.
“Mm, mm,” Juliette moaned deep within her throat as she avidly tongued her mistress’s bung hole.
“Your…passage, my husband,” Lydia groaned at the very thought of such a vulgar, vile act.