One Final Night Read Online Free Page B

place, in through the servants’ quarters and up the secret staircase to the guest wing. I shouldn’t have gone there when I knew a certain other might well be present. However, in this case jealousy had made me impatient of waiting and I needed my fix of him. It was not a great day to pick, as it turned out. A local church was holding a gathering on his lawns and there were people milling about in the sunshine down below. His presence was not required but he would always want to show his support for such things.
    I was instructed to stay hidden in one of the guest bedrooms and not move under any circumstances. I could see him down there, out where the stalls were being set up, laughing with the locals, occasionally looking up to pick me out at my window. It was nearly an hour before he came to me. I was wearing a loose skirt and one of the low-cut tops that he favoured, but he barely gave it notice.
    ‘There is a bird nesting in the creeper below this window,’ he said, as if that had anything to do with my being there or my needs. He led me over and lifted the sash. ‘Look out and see. You need only lean out a little.’
    I wasn’t interested in birds but he wasn’t to be denied, so I shrugged with indifference and leant out into the sunshine. I couldn’t see the bird.
    ‘If you reach down you will feel the nest,’ he told me.
    I didn’t want to feel it, but he bid me again “reach down”. I did as instructed and he immediately brought the sash down upon me, so that it was across my shoulders, trapping me against the window frame with my head and arms out in the open air. I gave a little squeal but caught it, suddenly aware that all those down below would be attracted to the noise. Then my skirt was up my back and my underwear down and he was feasting, ravishing me with his mouth while I squirmed and tried in vain to lift the weight that held me there.
    When I was slick enough he entered me and gave me the usual furious pumping that characterised any of our public displays. The slant here was obvious: I had to restrain my joy for fear of attracting all eyes up toward me. It might not be immediately obvious what was going on, especially as he had not stripped me bare first, so although I was threatening to spill out of my top, I was at least half decent for the moment. He could see out perfectly, and watch as more enquiring glances came my way, but even as those below shielded their eyes for a better view, the reflection on the window pane would obliterate any sight of him behind me. At best they would just about make out a shape, and then maybe they could analyse my behaviour and put two and two together. Have you any idea what it is like to be taken hard from behind while pretending to 30 or more onlookers that you are inordinately interested in a Virginia creeper?
    It was quite clever, really. I had to admire his ingenuity; the deed being done covertly, but me right out there on display, my odd behaviour drawing ever more stares, trying desperately to pretend I was not being fucked, while the mere thought of it was lessening my self-control. When my climax came I drew blood, I bit my lip so hard. Then the window came up and he slipped me back inside, as if nothing had happened. But what did those poor churchgoers think had just happened? I mean, what else could have been happening? Perhaps they thought I was the family madwoman, getting trapped in an attempt to escape the quarters they locked me in. That might have explained the odd range of noises and facial expressions I was making.
    While for him this bizarre fetish was possibly all about spontaneity and sharing, I found the humiliation of being publically used as tantalizing as the actual dirtiness of doing it. Even though I felt rudeness mushrooming inside me on a daily basis, I would still certainly never have instigated such an episode. I had to be made . He said there was another element too, the factor of my looks.
    ‘Because you are so delicious,