Partners In Rhyme | Tuesday 10 pm

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth watched as Dorset’s gaze began to move downward. He’s going to do it. I’m going to win again. Yet he raised his eyes back to her face and she sighed inwardly. She was becoming increasingly curious as to whether he was aroused as well as how large he was and it took considerable determination to keep focusing on his face. If he didn’t cave soon, she might have to accede this victory to him. She would hold out for as long as she could, though.

 

The handsome Earl didn’t think much about honor, unless he was acting just like she was. Of course, he would claim that he was an exception, His arrogance and confidence was part of the reason she was so attracted to him. Like calls to like, as the saying goes. "And me," she added with a grin.  "Perhaps we're the only two honorable gentlemen in London."

 

In truth, she didn’t think that anyone always kept their word. The young Countess knew from experience that some people would promise anything in order to get their way without the slightest intention of seeing it through. She had done it a few times herself, but those she had fooled had deserved it.

 

Tonight, however, she was portraying a young idealistic gentleman who was new to court and trying to impress a double Earl who was close to the King. He would expect to be tested before being trusted. “I believe in the kind of government we have now, which seems to me to be the best parts of the two. The King does not have absolute power like the Roman dictators but he can make decisions that go against Parliament if he sees fit. The final say is his, but he cares about his subjects and so he doesn't disregard their views."   She didn't think she needed to add that he remembered what had happened to his father and if he didn't listen to his subjects, history could very well repeat itself.

 

Anne-Elisabeth flipped her hair back over her shoulders so that it covered her assets once more. Her eyes never left Dorset’s. “Whether or not the end justifies the means depends on the situation. Corruption is everywhere. I do not think that court itself is corrupt, but some of its members are.”

[Blackguard]

"So, the current form of government is best and the court is not corrupt?  That is just what a spy would say," Dorset challenged.  He gave her an accusatory look that pretended to be serious.  "And what do you think of England's Northern Secretary and his effectiveness?" he inquired as if it could be further evidence.

"And who do you favor, the French or the Dutch in their dealings with England?" he asked as it would be further proof he might employ.  "And what of the ... Test Act?" he asked more quietly as his hand reached down to his groin area and moved slightly up and down.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth shrugged. “Or a diplomat.”

 

Dorset did a good job at looking fierce. A young gentleman who was new to court might have cowered in fear before him, which would have made him look guilty of the exact crime of which he was accused. The only way to impress the Earl was to stand your ground and refuse to be intimidated. She wondered if all court newcomers faced this kind of questioning and Dorset was trying to teach her how to think on her feet, which was what a gentleman would do. He wouldn’t have any feminine wiles to employ to his advantage.

 

The young Countess assumed that Dorset knew about the murder in the palace gardens. Why else would he accuse her of spying? All unknown gentleman would be subject to such allegations now. If she was to pose as one, she would have to expect inquiries of this sort from anyone to whom she spoke. It was a valuable lesson he sought to teach her. Unfortunately, she was not as well-versed in politics as she wished to be. That would have to change if she planned on using a male disguise.

 

“I haven’t heard enough about the Northern Secretary to make an informed opinion. Ask me again after I’ve been at court for a week or two.” In truth, Anne-Elisabeth didn’t know his name or even what he did, but she was determined to remedy that ignorance as soon as possible.

 

The other questions were not as …

 

What was he doing? Playing with himself? Her gaze began to descend, but she caught herself before she moved past his nose. Her dark eyes met his again. Test Act, indeed. she thought, admiring Dorset’s creativity. However, two could play that game.

 

It took a few moments to concentrate enough to speak. He certainly knew how to distract her. “If we side with France during the war, they will learn our weaknesses and could possibly defeat us if they invade. I don’t relish living in a Catholic country. As for the Test Act … As she had seen gentlemen do quite often, she spread her legs and stretched them out before her. Anne=Elisabeth moved one hand slowly up her thigh.  “I believe it is necessary to insure that Catholics don’t thrust themselves firmly into tempting open slots.”

 

Edited December 8, 2021 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

The game was on.  He reealized that she knew it when she countered his move to Test her.  "I suppose I should give you a few more weeks to meet people," Dorset conceded.  "The Earl of Sunderland is a diplomat, you might say.  He married one of the beauties at court, the daughter of the Catholic Earl of Bristol ... a man of great renown.  Arlington was Northern Secretary not long ago, but he sold his office to Joseph Williamson, who is in the Tower for selling commissions to Catholics.  It is all a colorful tale," he offered invitingly.  "I shall be interested to hear your conclusions when you meet him."

When she stretched and made reference to thrusts, the Earl smiled.  Sex was an enjoyable act, but sex and gamesmanship were a much more potent combination.  His eyes did not waver in the direction she hoped.  He had girded himself it seemed.

Holding the remainder of his drink to his lips, he inquired "so what do we do about the Popery problem in England?"  His grip on his glass failed in that moment and his drink spilled into his lap.  "Damnation," he muttered.  "That burns like hell on my cock."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

 

Luckily for Anne-Elisabeth, Dorset’s explanation was interesting enough that the temptation to peek at his cock diminished a bit. She had never even heard of the Earl of Sunderland, but was well aware of the handsome Earl’s disdain for Arlington. I wonder if he ever got the semen stains out of his chair. Maybe they’re still in his desk as well.

 

She could understand his dislike of the Lord Chamberlain for selling his office to a Catholic sympathizer, but she surmised that his animosity went deeper than that. Not that it was any of her business. “I still stand by my statement that not everyoneat court is corrupt. At least those who are caught are thrown in the Tower.”

 

Dorset did not take her bait, but kept his eyes locked on hers. It was apparently going to take more than giving him an unimpeded view of her quim and a dose of innuendo to break his concentration. The young Countess was positive that he had a lot more practice maintaining control than she did. Was it even possible to defeat him at their little contest of will?

 

He lifted his glass, pausing before drinking to ask her what he thought they should do about the Catholic problem. Anne-Elisabeth pondered various answers, attempting to figure out what an idealistic young gentleman would say.

 

And then Dorset spilled his drink on his lap. On purpose, she was certain. Closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to keep her mind from painting images of licking it off, she regained her composure and clenched her legs back together in feigned sympathy, like any young man would. “You need to wipe it off right away!”

 

Standing up, she sauntered seductively over to her pile of clothes and picked up her silken shirt. Walking over to him, she kept her eyes averted and held it out . “Use this. It should soak up the whiskey quite well.”

 

[Blackguard]

Anne stood by her view that not every courtier was corrupt.  "You have not met enough courtiers yet," Dorset replied in droll retort.

The spilling of his drink in his lap seemed a sure tactic to have her peek.  She did not.  It seemed that she was made of stermer stuff.  Instead she went to retrieve her shirt.  Whether he glanced at her retreating form or not  was not readily apparent.

"First, a gentleman would not express alarm at another gentleman's spill.  He would likely laugh at his fellow's expense.  The last thing he would do is offer his silk shirt as a rag.  It might be different if I was a lady in distress of course," Dorset instructed.  "Another gentleman might offer to douse the burning by pouring his own drink, or water, on my cock," he laughed

"Of course, the tingling burn just makes my cock grow larger.  If you were to pour your drink on it, my growing cock might poke out your eye, so you should be careful," he taunted. 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth was annoyed at her typical feminine response to Dorset’s spilled drink. Of course a gentleman would laugh, even one new to court, as she was pretending to be. In fact, laughter might have pleased the Earl and showed that the newcomer had a sense of humor and was bold enough to find mirth at the expense of a gentleman who was held in such high esteem by most courtiers and was close to the King. From what she knew of Dorset, He would be impressed by the young man’s audacity. For all his arrogance, he seemed to be a gentleman who appreciated humor even at the cost of his own dignity, but only in certain situations. He would probably not appreciate being laughed at by a lady if he spilled a drink on his breeches at a ball.

 

“Your advice is invaluable as always.” Frowning at the silk shirt in her hand, Anne-Elisabeth walked back to the pile of clothes and put it back. Picking up her drink, she passed the sofa she had been sitting on and stood in front of him again,  keeping her eyes carefully on his face  Oh, how she wanted to look down!  It was getting more and more difficult to resist.  “As interesting as that effect might be, I promise I won’t pour my drink on your cock … unless you ask nicely”

 

She dipped one finger into her drink. “I am curious about the tingling, though.” After swirling her finger around a bit, she lifted it and drew a circle around one of her nipples. It did burn, though in a rather fascinating way. “Oooh, I see what you mean,” she breathed, dipping her finger into her glass again and then encircling her other nipple with it.

 

Sliding her finger slowly down her torso to just below her bellybutton, she tilted her head to the side. “I wonder what how it would feel if I rubbed some on my …” She caught herself just before she said ‘quim.' ( because men didn't have quims) and finished her sentence with an impish smile instead.

[Blackguard]

It appeared that Anne realized the difference in masculine banter.  With each lesson she learned, Dorset took a small amount of pride, as it established a master-student relationship.

The lady resisted the urge to lower her eyes, and he made sure that he raised his own eyes from her throat to her face as she approached, tempting his own gaze with the movement down her body.  He had been expecting as much and gave her a smile as she tempted him, not averting his gaze.

""Well then, I am asking you nicely to pour your drink on my cock," he replied as if to accept her offer.  To pour, she would need to look.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth devoured every morsel of knowledge that Dorset fed her. She truly wanted to master the art of male impersonation as it would open doors to her that were closed to ladies … if she could fool other gentlemen into thinking she was one of them. It might take years of practice and instruction, but with Dorset as her teacher, she knew that someday she would be able to realistically pose as a gentleman.

 

Though there was absolutely no possibility that she would be able to do that nude, she could still learn how to act properly when a man did something a woman would consider embarrassing. Gentlemen didn’t try to help; instead they made fun of the unfortunate fellow. How men acted in such situations had never crossed her mind before, but now that she thought of it, it made perfect sense.

 

Dorset must have an iron will, for his eyes didn’t leave her face when she teased him. That smile of his made her believe that he had expected that particular stunt. Ladies probably threw themselves at him all the time and used every trick in the book to land themselves a double Earl. Which obviously hadn’t worked. Was there anything she could do that would tempt him to look down?

 

And now he actually wanted her to pour her drink on his cock, which meant she would have to lower her gaze. Perhaps that was cheating, but Anne-Elisabeth expected him to play dirty. She would definitely do the same to him if the opportunity presented itself. So why not do as he asked? Wasn’t it time to end this game and satisfy the desire that stirred within her?

 

Her competitive spirit wouldn’t let her give in so easily. “It would be my pleasure,” she replied. “But how do I know I’ll hit your cock if I can’t look at it? What would a gentleman do if another gentleman asked him what you just asked me?”

 

Anne-Elisabeth favored him with a sultry smile. “Or am I not pretending to be a gentleman anymore?”

 

[Blackguard]

Anne was showing a steely resolve that Dorset had not expected.  She seemed aroused enough that he was certain she would throw caution to the wind and take a peek.  He had her on the horns of a dilemma and was counting on horniness to break her resolve, to no avail.

He considered her response.  It was well-played.  She did not yield and asked him if the game was to continue.  The Earl was fairly certain that this standoff could go on for hours.  Life was too short for that.  As such, he decided to answer her truthfully.

"You should have known the answer," he replied.  "It was a derivation of the last answer," he explained.  "A gentleman would tell the other gentleman to sod off and pour his own drink on his own cock," he replied with a smile.  "We rarely do anything we are asked by the other,  We far prefer ridicule."

So, let us end the lesson for the evening.  There will be more lessons in the future," he encouraged.  "So, why don't you show me how your feminine side would respond to my request.  I fear my tool needs some attention."  His smile turned wicked.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

After everything Dorset had taught her about how gentlemen reacted to each other while nude, Anne-Elisabeth was not surprised by his answer. But there was a greater lesson to be learned: while posing as a man, she should never ask another man to do something for her. Nor should she do anything that another gentleman requested of her.

 

She was glad that he announced an end to her lessons, and was thrilled that there would be more to come. Now, though, it was time to be a lady again … or a woman, at least … since what she planned to do was not the least bit ladylike. Dorset’s wicked smile encouraged her intentions.

 

“A lady usually doesn’t mind doing a gentleman’s bidding if he asks politely, so …” With a naughty grin, Anne-Elisabeth looked down and poured her glass of whiskey on his cock.

 

“A lady also feels obliged to clean up the mess she makes and allows the gentlemen to choose the method. Shall I find a towel to wipe it up with or …?” Slowly and sensually, she licked her upper lip, leaving not doubts as to the other option she was proposing.

[Blackguard]

Dorset could see that his words had the desired effect.  It reinforced his decision to end one game and start another.  Apparently he had asked politely, for Anne poured her drink as requested.  He laughed as she did so, perhaps from the coolness of the liquid striking hot turgid flesh or perhaps from the lunacy of the moment.

"It would be old school to fetch a cloth," he muttered.  "It is nearly the 18th Century, so I think it calls for more ... novel solutions."  He knew that neither of them wanted a cloth fetched.  Anne was a born performer and he expected it was likely that she would rise, or lower herself in this instance, to the occasion.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth had known what Dorset’s answer would be before she asked the question. What hot-blooded gentleman would turn down what she had just offered? Most ladies would be shocked by the very idea. If they tried it, they might enjoy it as much as she did.

 

“As you wish.” Her smile broadened as she pulled her long tresses behind her and loosely braided her hair so that it wouldn’t become soaked with spilled whiskey or get in the way. Then she knelt before him and began licking his cock with slow and sensuous sweeps of her tongue. Pausing for a moment, she smiled up at him. “This is delicious. I think I’ve discovered my favorite way to drink whiskey.”

 

[Blackguard]

Without hesitation, Anne went to work. A true libertine, Dorset noted to himself.  No pretense at propriety, she did what she enjoyed with no apologies.

The lady knew her craft.  She was no traveler just beginning her journey.  While she had little experience at pretending to be a man, it was clear that she had ample experience as a woman.  The feeling was exquisite, as both knew it would be.

"And I think I have discovered my favorite way to share a drink," he uttered with a sigh as he sat back to enjoy her ministrations.  He wondered idly whether he should pour more whiskey over his tool, but Anne seemed eager enough without refreshing the coating.  Still, she would likely add more if needed.  He soon lost those thoughts as his excitement grew.  By his groaning and movement, she would know he was approaching climax.  "I think you have a lovely head for this and I suspect you shall be rewarded imminently," he whispered.  A gentleman should give a lady a few seconds warning. 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

With the content of two drinks coating Dorset’s cock, Anne-Elisabeth didn’t need to add any more unless she wanted to become drunk. Of course, some of it had soaked into the fabric of the sofa on which he sat, but enough was left to make her task not only pleasant but flavorful. She could tell by his reactions that he was getting close to climax and appreciated his warning. 

 

One hand deftly replaced her tongue, and with one swift movement, she rose and straddled him, impaling herself upon him. Her small pert breasts bounced invitingly as she moved back and forth, up and down. Her toned inner muscles gripped his cock tightly, pulling it in as far as possible. With her hands on Dorset’s shoulders, she arched her back, her own passion rising to the point of no return.

 

[Blackguard]

The pause of oral attention, coupled with a gust of cool air, was enough to pause the coming torrent.  Yet, Anne's intention was not to torment him with unfilled release.  Rather, it was to receive his offering in another way.

Dorset was the type to avoid a release inside a lover, preferring to pull out,  It was not for pleasure, of course, but for practicality.  Too many women had claimed to be the mother of one of his babes in the hope of seeing some coin for their effort.  As a matter of artificial integrity, he liked to think that he would take reasonable steps to avoid pregnancy so that he might, in good conscience, deny paternity in each case.

In this case, he did not have the willpower to deny Anne her seat upon him.  After all, this was no fishmonger's daughter.  She was a Countess, was she not?  Surely this one deviation would not raise the risks.

So it was that the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex let loose his offering into the most welcoming of receptacles.   He drove his pelvis roughly against hers so as to accentuate the sensations that were overwhelming them in that moment.  He continued a slow grind as the ecstasy began to dissipate.  

"Well madam, if it was your intention to put a cork on the bottle, you failed miserably," he chuckled with a lazy smile.  "I fear I may have made a mess.  Yet, I suspect that I have found a worthy drinking partner."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Because most men did not pull out, Anne-Elisabeth prevented conception by taking a mixture of herbs that had not failed her since she had become sexually active. Even if she did fall pregnant, she doubted that she would know exactly which of her lovers was the father.  She was too much of a free spirit to be faithful to one man.  As abortion was often fatal, she figured she would probably go back to her estate, have the baby in secret, give it away to a couple who weren’t able to have children, and promptly forget about it. A child would just slow down her plans to rise as far as possible at court. Maybe when she had achieved her goals and was more mature, she would be ready to start a family. She hoped so, for it would be a terrible loss if her brilliance, cleverness, and wit was not passed down to a future generation.

 

The raven-haired Countess thought nothing of this now as she rode with Dorset to the pinnacle of pleasure, throwing back her head so that her long silky hair bounced against his balls. It was one of the most thrilling climaxes she had ever experienced and she wished that it would never end. He continued to grind against her as the tantalizing sensations began to subside, sending bright little aftershocks hurtling through her body.

 

A bit winded, she shifted her position so that she could lean against him and catch her breath. “Why should I wish to cork it when I can shake it up and make it explode? It is so much more satisfying that way.”

 

She adored that lazy smile of his. “I can think of nobody else I would rather share a drink with, though I believe I have drunk more than you.” She glanced at the half-empty bottle, wondering what he would do if she poured it over herself. He would most likely need some time to recover first, but unless he had other plans tonight, they had plenty of time to enjoy each other many times. “But that can be remedied easily enough.”

 

[Blackguard]

"Yes, your timing was impeccable," he commented about the decision as to corking.  "My carpet thanks you for the lack of spillage," Dorset laughed in the afterglow of the moment.  "best we stay in this position for the moment," he commented as he examined her straddle.  He pretended it was about spillage when it was more about the excitement of the position.  It was something of a comedic position as well, having her inches away seated upon his lap.

"Now how might we reach the unfinished bottle without decoupling?" he wondered aloud as he looked at the nearby bottle.  "Failing that, we could soberly discuss the onset of sobriety," he jested.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Dorset’s laughter sent a bright little thrill down Anne-Elisabeth’s spine. Did she want him again already? It seemed so. It was quite rare for a gentleman to have that effect on her but she was perfectly content to bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking until he was ready for a second round.

 

She was glad that he didn’t want her to slide from his lap right away. Sitting atop him was quite pleasant. They fit together very well, her curves sublimely conforming to his contours. This, too, was quite unusual. She and Dorset were quite alike in many ways. Everything they had done together so far … from limerick contests to christening desks to lessons in male impersonation to frolicking on his couch… was enthralling.

 

Anne-Elisabeth shifted her torso slightly backward and kissed him lightly, playfully. “It is quite a delightful position, is it not?”

 

She laughed as he presented her with their dilemma, her eyes following his to the bottle on the table. “After that drink I just enjoyed, I can’t say that sobriety sounds appealing. Let me see if I can reach it.” She extended one hand, wriggling a bit on Dorset’s lap as she strained to reach the bottle. If this failed, she had a much more adventurous idea.

 

[Blackguard]

It was just beyond her reach.  Dorset laughed.

He took to his feet with Anne still impaled, lifting her upwards.  He moved the three feet to get her above the bottle but his hands were confined from being of any use in grabbing bottles.  As for her, she was above the bottle.  If he laid her on the table, it would knock off the bottle.  If she reached down, the bottle neck could be reached, but there were no glasses within reach.  He grinned and watched how lithely she might move and what she would do with the contents of the bottle.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Her arm ached as she stretched it as far as she could. No matter how hard she tried, Anne-Elisabeth could not reach the bottle. Not even the tips of her fingers touched it.

 

Dorset laughed at her efforts. Perhaps it was fortunate that she couldn't get to it because her other idea had more appeal. However, before she could voice it, he simply did it … standing up and carrying her over to the table. It was if he had read her thoughts. Great minds truly did think alike.

 

With every step he took, her pearl rubbed against his groin, creating a delicious and exciting friction. Desire danced through her veins and she wondered if Dorset felt the same. She knew exactly what she would do with the bottle once she had it.

 

“Hold me steady,” she told him. Young and strong and flexible, Anne-Elisabeth bent sideways and slightly backwards until she was able to grasp it. Using her abs to propel herself upward again, she wrapped on arm around Dorset’s neck and triumphantly held the bottle aloft. “Success!” she exclaimed.

 

With a wicked grin, she pretended to nearly lose her grip on it, tilting it so that most of the whiskey spilled over them and between them. “Oops,” she chuckled. “Whatever shall we do now?”

[Blackguard]

As to what would follow, both of them knew it would be a long bout of sex.  There was no talking as they descended into licking the whiskey from each other.

It was only afterwards that there was time for Dorset to determine that he would need to maintain regular assignations with Anne, even after his pending marriage to Frances Cavendish.  The thought of a dour young bride made him wince in anticipation.  Frankly, he did not need her dowry anyway and was already regretting the match.  He supposed he could just send her away from court, but her family would not like that.

~ finis