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Raconteur

Finding Grace In The Chapel, Thursday 7th Early Morning

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The feel of him. Of naked flesh to flesh. His wanting to be led instead of leading. She had not understood how powerful a thing that was until now.

"If I am indeed wanton as you say then tis right that you accept the making of me." She whispered as she sat up tucking her knees beneath her skirts bunched up to mid thigh. "And I can hardly claim ignorance yet even you must admit that my education is woefully neglected."

She had inched closer to him as she spoke until she was able to press her hands to his thighs her eyes feasting on him. She paused with the thought of doing what he had done to her but was unsure how to begin so she pushed at his legs to widen the space a bit.

"Then I shall lay claim to My Treasure and it must be surrendered   ....."

Leaning forward she kissed him her teeth nipping at his mouth as she slid her body atop his one hand raching down to act as guide. He would find her ready and eager.

If he wished for her to lead then he must offer encouragement in that direction.

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Charles smiled slowly, drinking in the sight of Grace's skirts climbing higher, exposing the pale, soft flesh of her legs. It was almost irrationally appealing. He licked his lips.

"Well, that neglect can be most easily— and pleasurably— remedied, if you desire it," he murmured, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from her bodice as she shifted closer to him. He widened his legs at her urging, content to let Grace take things in her own direction at her own pace. The anticipation was delicious, not unlike waiting to unwrap a present. His hands returned to her waist, helping to keep her balanced.

"And surrendered it is. Your treasure, and the rest of me, is entirely at your disposal."

She was getting pleasingly bolder, he noted, enjoying her nips and the friction of her moving atop him. He groaned to show his appreciation.

"I do like looking up at you like this," he told her, pressing his hips up against her. "But what do you wish to do with your treasure, now that you have claimed it, hmm? I am afire with..." he waggled an eyebrow. "Curiosity."

A hand slid to the bared skin of her thigh, stroking softly.

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It seemed as if her body knew the direction and so she just followed. Her movements were slow wanting to savor the feelings of him but soon that burning began and she wanted to increase the pace.

"Shall I remain slow and steady or wild and free ...." She whispered as her own hand joined with his inching it higher towards that place he'd already explored. "You must tell me My Lord so I shall remember."

She looked down at him her hair a cloud about her shoulders her skin flushed her desire was all to clear.

"Mmmmmmm ...... Yes  .......  Oooh ......"

Kitten like cries that soon turned to moans as she leaned forward bringing both her hands to rest on his chest which altered her positing to a new angle.

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Charles grinned, allowing Grace to draw his hand up towards that sweet little nub that was the source of so much delight. He let his fingertips flirt with it idly as he drank in her passion-disarrayed appearance. 

"You look exquisite like that," he told her, moaning as he pretended to consider her question. "All but burning with ardour... Beautiful," he trailed off into silence.

(He had rather lost the track of that thought, but that was forgivable under the circumstances, he felt.)

He rolled his hips up into her, luxuriating in the wonderfully wanton picture she made for a few moments longer (and gathering his thoughts) before answering her.

"We should draw this out, let the anticipation build and prolong our pleasure," he groaned, "but I think we are both well primed already, and I greatly desire to see you 'wild and free,' as you put it." He leaned forward to kiss her.

"Shall we gallop to the finish?"

In truth, he was glad she had asked, and even more glad to hear her moan like that. The flood was threatening to consume him, and it would have been deeply embarrassing for him to peak before she did. (He couldn't remember the last time that had happened to him sober.)

"Close," he managed to warn her, feeling the tell tale signs.

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Her laugh was a bit breathless and understandbly so as she answered him back

"If that were possible I would agree but I fear I shall soon tip the edge .....  yes! Ride like the Devil chases!"

She increased her own pace urging him on in response. She wanted then to fall from the cliff together and so her whispered pleas as she neared her peak combined with the movements had her biting her lips to keep from crying out.

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"Good," Charles just managed to hiss out in reply. He had been drawing near to the point of no return, and Grace's straightforward, uninhibited enthusiasm did not help matters. Or rather it very much did, which was the problem.

He moved faster against her, matching her own increasingly frantic movements. His breathing was harsh and ragged as the pressure welled up in his loins. He shifted slightly, seeking a better angle to bring her over the edge with him.

Perhaps it was that that did it, or the provocative sight of her bitten lip, but the dam broke. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, hips pressing up against her as his climax surged out of him.

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She tightened her internal grip matching her pace to his and his position change took her off the cliff. Her back arched and her head fell back aganist the wood of the pew. His lips aganist her neck drew her hands and they laced into his hair tugging him upwards so that her mouth could find his. She cried out her release her body bucking beneath his. That he had stayed within her and she was thus able to have him totally made this joining that much better.

That this had not been the slow and building up of their pleasures was no bother - there were times when that would be in play she knew so nothing need be said. In all Truth this was by far the most combustible union she had experienced with him!

Her breathing began to slowly regulate even tho her heart still raced and her body continued to spasm in slow little quivers underneath his. Her legs about his waist held him still and his weight was pleasurable and she wanted him to remain.

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Charles sighed contentedly, nuzzling idly at Grace as they rode out the aftermath of their coupling. This was warm comforting bliss after the frantic (not to say ecstatic) exertion that had preceded it, and he had no intention of moving or leaving Grace's embrace. Which was just as well, given the way her legs were locked around his waist.

"Mmm. Are you sated my little wanton?" he murmured, and kissed her.

"I confess I should like to remain like this a little longer. Your... vocally enthusiastic passion is powerfully attractive, but I rather enjoy this quiet intimacy as well."

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Grace smiled at his words glad of them and that he wanted to stay joined. She also knew from past experiences that he was quite able to re-kindle the fires.

"I am glad then to provide you this refuge and in all turth I too wish for it yet at the moment my right leg has gone all numb and I fear I must move  ....." A small 'oh' followed as she slowly released her grip her legs sliding onto either side of him to rest on the pews.

"Will you rub it please?"

She asked half raising herself to rest on her elbows eyes full of innocence as she looked at him. That she played with words and teased was clear.

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Charles laughed easily at Grace's play of innocence. Well, he had no objections to indulging her. (Not strictly true. He was disappointed to lose the eminently satisfying feeling of her legs wrapped around his waist, but that was a small enough thing, and likely to be compensated for to boot.)

"Such a greedy little wanton you are," he said again, sitting up to rest the ostensibly offending limb in his lap. "I truly have been a corruptive influence on you it seems. But I never could refuse a pretty face anything, and yours is more than pretty."

Starting on her calf, just above her ankle, he set to work, fingers and thumbs rubbing and caressing slowly up along her leg. He had spent an educational few days in a bathhouse in Constantinople and he could still recall some of what he had learned. Massage, erotic or otherwise, was a useful skill, and he always enjoyed those occasions he could employ what little knowledge he had of the art.

"Would you like me to kiss it better too?" he asked teasingly as he moved up to her thigh.

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"Am I? Greedy I mean. If so then you must blame yourslf My Lord as I have already said. Yet I confess ..." Here she smiled for that word was so apt for where they were. "Yet I confess that I can deny you little. And as for kissing - indeed I think that shall help greatly - no matter where tis placed."

Her eyes fluttered closed as his fingers began to press and kneed and she felt her body begin to respond and that fluttering in her tummy and she squirmed a little as he reached her thigh.

"I'll wager you learned more that just this ..... oh! ..... Your touch is like a feather on my skin so soft ..... "

She had stayed supported by her elbows the better to see and talk to him but now with her eyes closed she wanted to lie back and just give herself up. 

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"It is no bad thing, I think," Charles mused as he worked, smiling at Grace, "to be greedy for pleasure. Life is uncertain. Why not eagerly seize upon whatever delights can be found? But amateur philosophy aside, I too have a confession."

His grin widened, sharing in her amusement at the aptness of the phrasing.

"I like you greedy —" he bent to brush his lips off her calf, "— and wanton —" another kiss, higher up, "— and lusty." He pressed his lips to her inner thigh and straightened up to see what effect he was having.

He laughed softly at her words.

"Only partially skill on my part, I'm afraid," he admitted lightly, "the rest is due to some cosmetic confection my manservant prepares. I don't know what he puts in it, but I cannot complain about the results. I'm frightfully vain about my skin, you see. Please don't tell anyone."

He looked at her again, eyes closed and and beginning to squirm under his touch, and decided to indulge himself a little. He removed his hands from her thigh.

"There. The numbness should be taken care of now, yes?" he teased, his voice all faux-innocence.

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The loss of his touch and his words of finishing made her open her eyes and look to him with some bemusement.

"I am, as you say, too greedy for I have tired you and yet still want more."

She was contrite yet the small pout could not be helped as she sat up fully keeping her legs where they were with her skin uncovered unwilling to end everything all at once. He was quite capable of teasing and drawing that out and so she played along.

"If only we were in a place where you might 'rest' in comforts .... Oft times I forget that your are a Courtier. An Earl. Obligations and Duty ...."

"I am sorry that I am of so little help. What can I do ...."

Fair was Fair after all and Grace would pleasure him for as long as he allowed it yet understood that what they had already shared might well be all for this meeting. She must see herself soon back inside the Palace and another day of work. 

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Well, that little bit of cruel indulgence had backfired nicely on him, Charles reflected. Well, it was entirely just and fair that his ego be a little bruised in exchange for the teasing. He would admit as well that Grace's appealing pout was ample compensation.

And she has not moved away either...

"For a start, you might level less imprecations at my stamina. 'Tired,' indeed! When, madam, did I speak of tiredness?" he mock groused, though his performance was doubtless undermined by the grin he could not entirely suppress. "That aside, do not worry over your 'greediness' either. In truth, it pleases me greatly to know that your desires run so deep."

He leaned in to kiss her, unwilling to deny himself any longer.

"I will not stand in your way if you would seek to level the scales between us," he murmured, drawing back, "but how much longer can you stay?"

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She accepted his words happily and so then set herself to level those scales.

"No one will seek me out and I shall get a scolding so ....."

She broke off to press one hand to her forehead giving a small grimace.

"Why does my head ache of a sudden?" She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Might I lay my head down just there ..."

She was agile and changed her position so that her head was on his lap and her intentions would soon be made quite clear.

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"You may lay your head wherever you might wish," he told her, still grinning. He gestured expansively at his lap. "Make yourself comfortable."

He watched her settle herself. She suited her name, as he had told her once, and it was always a pleasure to see her in motion.

"I cannot help but wonder," he murmured, reaching down to stroke her hair, "what you mean to do now."

He had a shrewd idea, of course, but he was perfectly willing to let her proceed at her own pace. 

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Her smile was hidden from his view as her hands slowly began to touch then caress that object that had given her so much pleasure. She had once been shy and unsure and was still yet now could gage from his reactions both verbal and visual what he liked her to do.

Her breath was an added caress as was her 'mumblings' and soon she would shift positions - her hands going to each of his upper thighs for balance as she tucked her legs beneath her -  as best she could given where they lounged.

Her tongue explored in slow circles and she added the fingers of one hand to reach lower mindful to not neglect what lay there as well.

He was relaxed yet she knew his blood was heating up. As was hers. 

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Charles moaned as Grace set to work, her fingers gliding slowly over his member. It was an exquisite feeling, and enhanced by the teasing huffs of her breathing whispering over his sensitive skin.

"And you claimed my touch was soft," he half-groaned, his fingers continuing to stroke through her hair, "when your own is like satin."

He would have said more, but his tongue was stilled as Grace put her own to work and his breath caught in his throat. He shifted slightly, spreading his legs to give her more room to work. His head lolled back, eye closing.

"Merciful Christ," he managed at last, "but you have grown bold!" 

His member was rousing from its slumber, surging back to life under the slow caresses of her tongue. He groaned again.

"You have me in the palm of your hand like this," he whispered once he had recovered his breath. "But a little faster, now, please."

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She raised up taking a breath her gaze taking in his countance and she smiled then whispered as he had 

"This pleases you then ..... And this ..... My hand here the other like this ...."

She was teasing him as he had her but she would not let him 'suffer' for long. Her hands played him and as he wanted she increased the pace. 

She would take his pleasures higher if he wanted it - replacing hands with her body to guide him to her - or continue on as she was.

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Charles groaned.

"Yes Grace, the touch of your hands pleases me. As does your tongue, and your smile, and your growing boldness. In short, you please me," he managed hoarsely. "I am entirely at your mercy."

In spite of himself he could not help but press his hips up into her grasp as she sped up the pace of her teasing. He had not exaggerated by much, if at all, when he had said that she had him in the palm of her hand. It was not purely the physicality of the act, either — Grace plainly enjoyed teasing him like this, and he delighted to see it.

"Please," he murmured plaintively, unsure himself if he was pleading for her to end his pleasurable torment or prolong it.

Edited by Charles Audley

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She smiled as he pressed up into her hands and in the space of a blink she added further as she raised up, inched a bit forward, and set herself atop him one hand guiding him.

"Please indeed. Pleasure to us both ....  "

She began to move placing her knees the better to feel him deeper drawing him in tight. She met his eye as her back arched and she gave voice to her own desires. The tempo changed again as she leaned forward to kiss him adding a new dimension.

She was like some forest creature with her hair hanging about her. He would find the marks of her nails on his shoulders if he were to look later from where she had held him.

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Charles sighed gently as Grace slid down onto him, his hands moving instinctively to her thighs under her skirts. His hips rolled up again to meet her descent.

"Yess," he hissed, "only fair that... you take your pleasure of me as well."

He swallowed another groan as Grace set to in earnest. She was so beautiful like that, so ardent and animated, that... He lost track of that line of thought as she leaned forward to kiss him. He met her eagerly, only distantly aware of the feeling of her nails digging into him, altogether too engrossed in the pleasure pouring through him like a flood.

It took him no small amount of time to realise that he was being unbecomingly lazy. Belatedly he set his fingers to work, probing and caressing to bring Grace towards the edge as well.

"Close," he managed to grit out, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

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Her pace increased as she bit his lower lip perhaps in punnishment ot pleasure but it did not matter.

"As am I ... As am I .... Oh ..." She gasped as his fingers searched and found that little place and that was all she needed. Her body began to shudder and she tipped the edge. Holding him tighter if that were even possible she cried out

"Now ... Now ..."

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That was all the signal Charles required. The floodgates opened and he pressed his hips up into Grace as he peaked. His breath left him in a strangled moan and he sagged back into the pew, eye closing. He lay there, lips lazily curved into a satisfied smile.

His lower lip was starting to swell slightly and he probed gently at it with his tongue, remembering the little nip.

"You have grown bold Grace," he murmured, eye still closed. He paused for a moment before continuing, his hands moving to her hips.

"I rather like it."

He subsided with a sigh, drawing her closer to him, wanting to enjoy the afterglow for as long as they could.

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She heard his words but somehow they seemd far off as she lay aganist his chest her heart still racing and her breathing audible. 

Enclosed in his arms she followed his sigh with one of her own.

"I am pleased that You are pleased. Tis not that I have grown bold. My body seems to act of its own measure so what else can I do but follow?"

"I think you must cast a spell My Lord that makes me so and yet, well, I find it hard to object."

She grew quite then content to lie still enjoying the moment for soon they must part and she did not know when he might call for her again. 

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Charles huffed softly in amusement, bending slightly to press his lips to the top of Grace's head.

"Ah, but do you enjoy it when your body 'acts of its own measure,' as you put it?" he asked teasingly. "I know I do."

He snuggled her closer and laughed deep in his chest.

"And I have no more sorcery than you do, so I fear we must both simply own our wanton natures."

He held her for some minutes, simply drinking in the silence and her closeness, until at last he reluctantly realised that they would have to take their leave. He sighed.

"I assume you cannot linger much longer?" he asked in the likely vain hope that they had some time yet. "When can I see you again?"

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"Would I could but ..." She gave a small shrug. "I must go."

She was first to break the hold moving apart from him despite her wanting to linger. Pushing at her skirts she presented her back to him saying over her shoulder

"You must lace me up. Your skills for that no doubt equal those for untying Lord Chatham."

Arms raised to bundle her hair up to some sense of order glad for the few pins that still remained.

"I will come to your residence. But only once I have gained if the ribbon has even been missed - but it is such a thing that I can not think would not be missed so I shall assume it is."

"I hope you have no difficulties in seeing it returned. Perhaps it might be best for me to return it to Lady Mountjoy after all. I shall make myself an 'honest servant' and gain some reward  ..."

She gave a small chuckle at that thought.

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"Not quite equal, no," Charles demurred, sitting forward to lace Grace up. "I enjoy it rather less, you see, and we do best at that which we love best."

He laughed and brushed his lips off the nape of her neck, his fingers dancing nimbly over her laces despite his words.

"I hope then that it does not take long," he murmured, only for his fingers to slow at Grace's last suggestion. He hummed thoughtfully, considering.

"That may not be a bad idea," he mused. "We shall have to think on it."

He shook himself.

"But this is all academic until we can ascertain that the ribbon has been missed. We can settle on a plan then."

He finished with her bodice and leaned back.

"There. All done."

 

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"Then I shall do as you say and seek out those of the Household that I am 'friendly' with and gather what I can."

She turned round to face him with a smile as she adjusted herself better into her bodice her gaze then wandering the immediate area which had remained she thinks as it was from the start.

"Well I think we have been unobserved yet I think something should be done."

She held out her palm in a serious manner but the amusement in her eyes was clear.

"For the Poor Box - tis only fitting Lord Chatham since we were 'Blessed' with no intrusions."

"Just a few pennies or more either way God will be pleased."

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Charles swallowed a smile and reached into his pockets with a mock-gravity to match Grace's.

"There — a shilling for each of us, to be certain that God is pleased," he murmured, placing the coins in her hand. He let his fingers linger for a moment, enjoying the warmth, before reluctantly withdrawing.

"I suppose I must go," he whispered at last. "Be careful. In these things certainty is preferable to speed, and safety preferable to certainty."

Despite his words he did not leave, eye drinking in the sight of Grace.

To Hell with it.

He stepped in and kissed her.

"Now I really must go," he half panted, "before my passion overcomes my reason and I carry you off."

He laughed, made his best leg, and turned to go.

 

(OOC: Fin?)

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