A Gentlewoman's Dalliance Read Online Free PDF

to her body in an enticing way, almost as much a caress as Leonard’s—or Benedict’s—fingers might have been.
    Studying her toes in her new satin slippers, Mary sat quiescent, drinking in the air of erotic speculation as the men consumed their whiskey. Two sets of eyes—one warm and brown, one cool and blue—seemed to emit rays of desire that swept over her through the silk. Rays that gathered at the tips of her breasts and at her groin.
    â€œMight we begin?” she inquired after a little while, when she could bear the wait no longer. Her fingers were tingling with the desire to touch herself, and both her nipples and the pit of her belly ached and ached. Her lust was new, like an electrical force, yet so familiar.
    â€œYou’re very eager, madam.” Setting his glass aside, Benedict seemed to have regained the self-possession that she’d shaken. He was taking charge now, the specialist again, composed and level. “I’m not sure I’ve ever known a woman so lacking in control of her carnal appetites.”
    Well, that’s a white lie, sir, if you’ve ever had cause to service the whims of either Arabella Southern or Prudence Enderby!
    Nevertheless, Mary nodded, her breathing shallow.
    â€œWe’d better do something about it in that case, then, hadn’t we? Don’t you agree, Leonard?” the dark young man observed to Mary’s husband.
    Leonard met his glance, his brown eyes bright and eager. As luminous, Mary guessed, as her own eyes were.
    â€œKindly assume an appropriate position, Mrs. Brigstock.” Benedict rose from the chesterfield where he’d been sitting, and even though he didn’t precisely go through the pantomime of flexing his fingers in readiness, he nevertheless ran the side of his thumb against his palm as if assessing its hardness.
    â€œOf course,” Mary replied, suppressing her grin, and her triumph. With a showmanlike panache, she flipped her sash unfastened, and slid her arms out of her robe as she rose, too. As the garment slithered free of her body and pooled in a whisper at her ankles, she drew in a breath.
    As did Benedict and Leonard, both men gasping.
    Apart from her navy satin corset, her slippers, and her stockings and her baby-blue froufrou garters, Mary was naked.
    â€œBravo, my dear, bravo!” cried Leonard, his eyes popped wide. She hadn’t warned him of her plan, but Mary could see from the way her husband licked his lips—as if she were a prime beefsteak dressed with his favorite Hollandaise—that he approved.
    â€œMagnificent, Mrs. Brigstock,” concurred their companion, an unmistakable glow in his eyes, too.
    See, young man. You can still be surprised, for all your expertise and experience. We middle-aged matrons can have fire in our bellies, too.
    â€œI see your exhibitionistic tendencies exceed even my anticipation, madam,” the specialist went on as Mary walked boldly toward the desk, head up, chest out, hips swaying in as alluring a lilt as she could manage. Perhaps she did look a tad absurd, slinking about like an odalisque when she was a long-married woman and mother of a well-grown son, but the sensation was so much fun that she didn’t care.
    Pausing with her fleece just touching the burled mahogany edge of the desk, she half turned toward her admirers, reached up to pull out the few carefully placed pins that maintained her coiffure and shook her hair free over her shoulders. Leonard loved the gleam and swish of her thick, wavy, dark brown tresses, and she didn’t see why Benedict Holcombe shouldn’t have a chance to admire them, too.
    Then, a naked goddess who paid only lip service to her role as a submissive, she assumed her pose, her body draped across the blotter and the desk, her rounded bottom neatly framed by the bands of her garters and her corset.
    Take a good look, gentlemen . Shifting her thighs a little, she teased them with the view,