FicWad

NOVELLA TWO

Diego and Dougless

CHAPTER ONE
Spring 1750
Savannah, The Colonies

I had just finished having my maid tend my nails when I heard a knock at the door. Going to answer, I opened the portal and saw a runner I knew carried missives to earn coin.

He handed me a sealed envelope. “I’s told to wait and take your reply back.”
I accepted the thing, wondering when last the grubby urchin’s hands had seen soap and water, broke the wax bearing some family crest and withdrew folded parchment and turned away to read.

Miss Shaw,
If you have no prior arrangements, I would very much like to call this evening. I am Roth Garrett’s cousin and he will vouch for me.
Respectfully,
Don Diego de Gamboa

Interesting. He wrote in a bold hand. Doubtless the familial traits of confidence and audacity lived in him. I had long since gotten over my feelings for Roth. However, because of his warlike wife, I kept clear. This Gamboa certainly came from a good family and no doubt he could afford me. I would meet him and decide.

“I require a moment to pen a response,” I told the boy. I walked into my morning room to my desk, seated myself and replied upon a sheet of my scented stationary.

Don Diego,
You may call upon me tomorrow evening at eight, that we might discuss the nature of our association.
Regards,
Dougless Shaw

I sealed the thing in a light blue parchment envelope, lit a candle I kept for this purpose, melted dark blue wax in a silver spoon, then dribbled the rather thick stuff onto the envelope where flap met body and pressed my seal – a single rose - into it. I blew on the stamped wax to cool it as I returned to hand it to the boy. “The man who sent you shall pay for the return,” I told him.

“Already did,” he replied and loped away.

A true gentleman, this Gamboa. Depending upon his manner in person, he might do nicely.

#

The following evening, I dressed in a modest gown for staying in, had Sara, my maid, help my put up my hair in a simple style, did no more than powder my nose and dab my custom mixed scent behind my ears and on my wrists. I knew my beauty more than enough to impress.

At the precise, appointed time, Sara answered the door and I readied myself. I waited to receive him in my small, very intimate parlor. Lit candles and lamps created warm light. Seated in a small lady’s chair, I prepared my mind, putting myself into the proper frame, assuming my ‘stage’ presence.

In a few moments, I heard booted footfalls, then the door opened and I saw him. He seemed to fill up the doorway, head nearly brushing the top, shoulders nearly spanning the width.

“May I?” His very deep voice carried a light Spanish accent.

“Of course.” I rose to greet him. “Good evening, I am Dougless Shaw.”

He took my proffered hand, bending to press a kiss to my knuckles. “Diego Gamboa. It is my honor to make your acquaintance.”

He straightened, releasing my hand. I noted his sharp, clean handsome features and dark coloring. His brown hair seemed very dark, his skin brown with a coppery undertone and the brown of his eyes shone very bright. Potent male hunger burned there. I suffered a feminine reaction and squelched it.

“May I call you by your given name?” I went to the sideboard I kept in here laden with many libations.

“It would please me.”

“Then, you must do the same.” I looked back at him over my shoulder. “What may I offer you to drink, Diego? I have a very fine Madeira.”

“Brandy, if you have it.”

I poured us each a small snifter, handed one to him, letting my fingers brush his as I did. “Are you visiting Mr. Garrett and his family for long?”

His gaze moved over me with a particularly predatory gleam. “If I so choose.”

I smiled. “If you find the bounty of Savannah generous you might remain with us a while?”

“Most assuredly.”

“Our city is filled with delights.” I tapped my glass to his. “To enjoying new things.” I held his gaze as we sipped our drinks.

He then set his brandy upon the sideboard. “If I might make so bold, I wish to inquire after your decision, Dougless. Will you accept me?”

I liked his directness. “With delight, sir. Have you anything particular you enjoy?”

His voice lowered and the change of tone caused a curl of arousal in my pelvis. “I know I shall enjoy you.”

Assessing him, I placed my brandy next to his and took his hand. “Come with me.” I led him upstairs to my suite. It waited, scented, stocked and lit by several lamps, their wicks trimmed, sconces made of amber glass to diffuse light.

I locked the door behind us. Diego removed his boots and disarmed himself. I kept a table just for this purpose. He laid out his sword and pistols there. I turned my back, “Will you unlace me?”

Diego came quickly to assist. I studied him. He struck me as very gallant and generous. I imagined he indulged his lovers. It would benefit me to indulge him. Therefore, I let him strip me to my shift and pantilettes then turned and shoved him back to the bed. He complied, letting me push him back onto it.


CHAPTER TWO

I tried to ignore how he looked lying on my bed. The sight made me a little weak and that I could not afford. I got onto it with him, remaining upright on my knees. Leaning down, I pushed up his shirt and helped him out of it. I had to stifle a little gasp. So much muscle under dark skin. Scars marked him, telling the story of a dangerous lifestyle. Big powerful men like him did not often pass through my door.

I pressed my lips to his shoulder, touching his skin with my tongue. He smelled of clean, healthy, vital male and just a trace of some expensive cologne that reminded me of the ocean. My hands moved of their own accord, becoming greedy in their exploration of his hard body. He groaned low in his throat and the sound went directly to my cunt.

A bad sign.

His hands moved over my head, loosening my hair and pulling free the pins. I heard them hit the carpet on the other side of the bed. Urging me upward, he murmured, “Kiss me.”

“You know that is expensive.”

“I left a hundred pounds in gold with your maid.”

If his body had not excited me, the mention of a hundred pounds gold would have done the job. I went up to him, his hands shifting me to lie atop him. The mouth-wateringly large ridge of his erection pressed into my belly. I teased him first, tracing his lips with my fingers and tongue. He gave himself over to me and I knew I correctly judged him, and what he would find novel.

My hair slowly uncoiled and tumbled down around us. I kissed the corners of his mouth, his eyes and chin, before he growled, curved one big hand around my nape and fairly ravished my mouth with his own. Forbidden carnal delight burst in me. I squashed it ruthlessly. Concentrating on stroking his chest and face, I then moved lower to open his breeches. The hot, aggressive cock that pushed into my grasp rendered me wet and wanting.

I nibbled and licked my way to his erection, then took him into my mouth without preliminaries. He roared and his entire body vibrated. He tasted so good and smelled so clean and masculine, I knew the receptive lubricant drenched my pantilettes.

The first rule my mentor instilled? Make every man feel as if he is the only man in the world. So, I risked breeching the rule about opening yourself to a particular male, and allowed myself to moan as I drew upon him, almost artless in my greed. He spoke in rapid, hushed Spanish and held my hair back to watch what I did.

He surprised me by pulling from my mouth and reversing our positions. His weight braced above me, he finished stripping me bare then set about having every bit of me with his hot mouth. I allowed myself to react naturally, to shake and shudder. When he lowered his head between my thighs I suffered a moment’s fear. What if I said something during climax? In some way compromised my professionalism?

He took the matter from my hands. Giving my cunt a brief, very adoring kiss, he said, “Forgive me, I have been at sea.” Then, he loomed above me, spreading my thighs and entering me in a swift, knifing thrust.

I cried out and shoved my hips up at him. He stretched me and the pain/pleasure drove me mad with lust. Too many polite, middle-aged and less than energetic men had frequented my bed these past years. As he began to batter away at me, I clutched at him, inciting him verbally to further sexual violence. He obliged me, releasing gentlemanly restraint and fucking the life from me. I climaxed. He held still for a moment, then resumed. I heard myself begging him to cease, even as I clawed his wide, tapering back and bit his chest.

He began to make telltale noises of impending orgasm. I clamped down with my internal muscles, determined to give him a climax worth a hundred pounds gold in itself. He circled his pelvis against mine, grinding lightly over my clitoris and I shattered.

He withdrew and his very hot semen spurted over my belly and breasts.

I blinked to clear the spots from my vision. Recovering my poise, I told him, “There are clean drying cloths by the basin.”

He went at once to return with one wet and one dry. I experienced an odd moment as he tended. It made me think of Roth. Not emotionally, more in the capacity of how the men in that family held to a different code than most. They possessed a distinct nobility and generosity that set them apart.

In a curious mix of sensual aftermath and business, he spoke. “I wonder if you would favor me with a set evening appointment?”

Recovering my financial skills and wits, I replied, “It would require an additional hundred in retainer and non-refundable fifty in good faith.” I lifted my head to better spread out the wealth of my hair and arched my back a little. His bright eyes moved over my breasts as intended.

“Done.”

“Deliver it here by noon tomorrow and you may count upon your eight o’clock, and unrushed visitation.”

He dressed and armed himself. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

On instinct, I taunted, “Mayhaps you mean fucking me again?”

He smiled and I gave thanks I had not stood upright. A successful courtesan could not continue lucrative trade if she fainted at a man’s wide, white smile. “Aye.”

I donned a sheer dressing gown and walked downstairs with him to the front door. “Goodnight, sir.”

He paused, taking his hat from the rack and placing it upon his fine head. “Diego.”

My turn to smile as I opened the door and stepped back to pull it wide. “I know your name, sir.”


CHAPTER THREE

Madame Collette D’Aubigne had taught me the art of making a living as a courtesan. One thing she had highly stressed and I used it with much success. She said to me, “It is what you do for a man out of bed that makes him a slave to you. Spoil him, cater to him and he will want you always.”

I thought of this as I poured handfuls of water over Samuel’s back. He rarely spent more than a half an hour in sex. Yet, he often stayed two hours, luxuriating in the pampering I lavished and making use of my sympathetic ear. I did not feel badly when neglected and often ignored husbands sought pleasure and companionship from me. They happily met my rates for service and most all sent a steady stream of monetary gifts, flowers, jewelry and wine. If their wives but treated them with the same attention as I, they would receive the benefits instead. However, I heard the same tale of a cold distant wife from most all.

I soaped his back and chest and rinsed him. Samuel loved having me tend him thusly and his enjoyment made me smile. So simple a thing, and yet so precious to him. I dried him when he stepped from the tub, then I aided him in dressing, fussing over him as I did.

“Must you leave so soon? I wish you could lunch with me.” Devices such as this worked for me because they did not originate in entire artifice. A middle-aged man who owned several businesses, Samuel kept abreast of local politics and it behooved me to do the same. He made a charming and interesting dining companion. I did favor his company.

He kissed my cheek and held me to him. I guessed his height must not quite exceed mine by a hand’s span. “My life was so bare before you, Dougless.” Releasing me, he said, “I wish I could just spend the rest of the day with you. However, duty calls.”

“I understand, of course.” Thinking ahead, I said, “You must breakfast with me on Monday. I shall have cook prepare the ham and egg dish you favor.” The key in this sort of thing hinged upon making the association seem social, rather than financial. No man liked to think his attentions tolerated only in exchange for his coin.

“I look forward to it.”

#

In the afternoon, Sara helped me to bathe then massaged me with a very light oil bearing my custom scent. I dressed in a sheer nightrail and left my hair loose to dry. I had a lovely balcony that ran the entire upstairs at the back of my house. Trees along the lawn’s border prevented casual prying eyes. A spyglass and determination might pierce the leafy veil to steal my privacy, if one became so determined. If so resolved an individual lurked, I seriously doubted.

I only dared sit outdoors a few moments for fear of pinking my white skin. I protected my complexion with religious fervor. All aspects of my beauty acted as the footing for my vocation. I had to exercise much caution.

A sudden memory of my new client’s dark body ambushed me and I flushed.

I needed to cultivate some manner of callous against my attraction. The outrageous sum of money I requested from him had arrived via a liveried footman an hour before the stipulated time. I did not doubt he would appear with equal punctuality this evening, and I had to get my mind in the appropriate place to perform.

#

I dressed in a creation made especially for me. It amounted to a half corset with short, sheer sleeves and a skirt of less transparent gauze, all in a shade of light blue shot with white ribbon. I brushed my hair and left it loose. At a quarter ‘til, I poured a single brandy and walked downstairs.

I only employed Sara, my personal maid, a woman who cleaned and helped in the kitchen, and my cook, a temperamental Frenchman, fulltime. All three knew my occupation and had become accomplished at invisibility. The maids, laundresses, footmen and gardeners arrived at nine in the morning and departed at four in the afternoon. I enjoyed my lifestyle and the freedom it offered.

The clock in the foyer began chiming the hour and I heard a rapping. I went to admit him, keeping behind the portal as he stepped inside. The scent of him struck me a blow.

Schooling myself, I greeted, “Good evening, sir.”

He closed the door, plucked the snifter from my hand to set upon the table, and hauled me into his arms. “I vow to hear my name on your lips before this night is done.”

I could not resist stretching up to wrap my arms around his neck as he kissed me with great passion and hunger. Desire blazed through my body and I wanted him at once.

He lifted his head, gaze and hands running over me. “I have thought of naught else save you.”

“Let us go above stairs.” I fought to quell my trembling.

He swung me up into his arms at once and I held my breath as he ascended the stairs two at a time. Kicking the door closed behind us, he bent and turned the key. He placed me upon the bed, disarmed and stripped himself in a trice. My mouth watered and my belly fluttered at the sight of him. His manner became more patient. He came over me to kiss me, slow and deep, his tongue making love to mine.

Colored lights danced behind my closed eyelids and I could do naught save hold him to me and whimper.


CHAPTER FOUR
I had to regroup my wits and take control of this situation in all haste. He needed reminding this arrangement had come into place for me to pleasure him. Not the other way around. Summoning my training, I pushed at his shoulders and he let me topple him. His strong arms brought me along, keeping me pressed to him.

I extricated myself by degrees and got from the bed. His bright eyes tracked me as I fetched my rolling chest of toys. “What have you there?”

“Playthings.” I looked at him, taunted lightly, “Have you an adventurous spirit or nay?”
“Beyond a doubt I am adventurous.”

“Let us explore that, shall we?” I opened the chest. I selected an ermine mitt first. I climbed into the bed again and bid him turn onto his belly. His back side proved equally beautiful: wide shoulders, back deeply cleft by brawn and tapering to narrow hips and a appealing, round bottom. I slipped on the mitt and swept my hand over him.
He groaned. “What is that?”

“Ermine,” I smiled. Men never failed to respond to it. After I had treated every bit of him I could reach, I had him turn over and I used the fur glove on his chest and belly, then his erection. He rumbled and growled. My stomach quivered hearing it. I leaned down and swirled my tongue around his hard nipples as I smoothed the mitt down his legs. His aggressive cock bucked.

I replaced the mitt in the chest and withdrew a specialized toy. Made of lovely red glass, the thing possessed the basic shape of a cone with a handle at the widest end for the convenience of the wielder. I slicked it with a very carefully mixed blend of oils created by the merchant for just this purpose.

Before he could inquire about it, I caught his erection in my left hand and lowered my head to take him into my mouth. His breath hissed from him. I slid the crest of him to the back of my throat, milking and massaging him with the muscles there. He cradled my head in his big hands. I released him, slowly urged his legs up, bringing his feet closer to his body as his knees bent, and adjusting them wider.

I found surprise worked best with this technique. I drew hard upon him and slowly pulled back, using my tongue on his throbbing cock as I pushed the tip of the toy into his anus.

“Dios Mio!” he roared and his entire body flexed. I squeezed his heavy ballocks, lavished much suction and friction upon his erection and eased the plaything up into him by slow degrees, knowing it stretched him as it went deeper. He erupted in my mouth in a matter of moments. I swallowed his sweet semen, withdrawing the smooth slick glass instrument.

I rose, went to clean the toy in the basin, then returned it to the chest as he laid there, wide chest lifting and lowering as his lungs labored. From my sideboard, I took a glass and decanter and poured him a restorative brandy, glowing in the aftermath of my triumph. Perching on the bed’s edge, I said, “May I offer refreshment?”

“You may offer it. I question my ability to sit upright and partake.”

I reached over to stroke his wide, muscular thigh. “Let me help you recline against the bolsters.” I bent, set the glass in the floor and arranged the pillows and he turned and rather collapsed onto them. Then, I handed him the brandy and continued to pet him.

He sipped brandy, gazing at me from under heavy lids and thick eyelashes. “You have not climaxed.”

“Your pleasure is mine,” I replied, savoring the shift in the power balance. I had arrived upon familiar ground now and learned my lust for him did respond to schooling. “Have you dined? It will only want a moment or two to arrange a cold supper.”

“I have not dined.”
I scooted closer and leaned to drop a kiss upon his jaw. He smelled so good. “Enjoy your brandy, darling. I shall return in a trice.” I went down to the kitchen. Cook kept an ice safe filled with impromptu components for such occasions. I quickly arranged chunks of cheese and cold duck breast, thinly sliced beef rolled with mustard and chopped egg, from the cold safe, and then added fresh bread. Grabbing napkins from the counter, I returned to my client.

Much of my vocation amounted to acting as a hostess, and the best had tutored me. I entered the room bearing the oversized plate of tempting offerings and placed it upon the bed within easy reach.

He swallowed some of the remaining brandy. “I wish to discuss exclusivity, Dougless.”

This subject did not surprise me. I went about lighting more lamps, giving him a grand display of my body in the flattering illumination and revealing garment. “Do you intend to make a home here, sir?”

“Might I request you cease calling me ‘sir’,” he said quietly, “and address me by my goddamn name?”

Grinning to myself, I replied, “Whatever pleases you, Diego.” I could almost hear his white teeth grind in thwarted male will.

“Again, I would like to negotiate exclusive rights.”

Opening the balcony doors to admit the pleasant breeze, I repeated, “Do you intend to make a home here?”

His gentlemanly manner slipped. “Why the fuck do you ask this?”

I walked to the bed, noting he had finished the brandy, but had not touched his food. “I must continue living here after you depart. It would not make for a beneficial future if I temporarily ceased socializing with my current associates.”

“If I paid you double?”
Not tempted in the slightest, I responded, “Let us cease talk of finances in favor of more pleasant topics. Did you taste the duck?”

I saw the rebellion in him. Yet, he seemed to think better and ate a piece of the chilled fowl. He chewed and swallowed. “It is exceptional.”

“Your enjoyment becomes my own,” I told him. “You need only request and I shall provide.” Except what you wish most, I added to myself, mightily amused at his expense. Fetching him a second brandy, I seated myself close and stroked him, even fed him from my fingers and dropped kisses over his too attractive chest.

After he finished eating, I realized he intended to have me.

I said, “I have so enjoyed my evening with you. It would be my privilege to walk you to the door.”

He surged up from the bed, dressing himself. “My appointment stands?”

“I would have it no other way,” I answered, all silky indulgence as I internally mocked him.

“Do not trouble yourself to see me out.” His tone embodied polite sophistication. “I look forward to tomorrow eve.”

I inclined my head. “As do I.”

He buckled on his weapons, bowed and departed.

I waited for some time then fell back upon the bed to laugh, thinking, “I win.”