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Lady Rosalynne free porn video
The large wooden door closed behind her, leaving Rosalynne alone for the first time that she could remember since arriving here at Lord Vaughan’s castle. She sat on the stool, still warm from the bath that she had been given by two of the maidens, dressed in a gauzy ivory gown. Her hair was still wound in an intricate braid from the ceremony, but she noticed that the steam from the bath had caused some tendrils to fall loose, hanging in chestnut waves around her face.
She looked away from the mirror: any acknowledgment that she was still “Rosalynne” was too much to bear. From the moment that she had been more or less taken from her family, she no longer existed as the woman she had been. She was now Lady Rosalynne and what awaited her was not the life she had intended.
Her attention fell on the bed at the other end of the room. Covered in a crimson blanket embroidered with gold and white flowers, she knew she wouldn’t be spending her night in here. Her wedding gown laid across the end of the bed where the maidens had left it, unable to fit it in the small room where the other gowns she would be wearing. Deep, jewel-colored gowns with lace and beading and ribbons - a far cry from her muted pallet as a seamstress in the village. She kept herself simple, in order to bring attention to her collection in the shop.
Since Lord Vaughan's son, Lord Keaton, had been murdered two years ago, the House of Merricks had no heir and would fall to his sister, Lady Moira, who many believed had been behind the murder. Lord Vaughan's first wife, Lady Abigail had died many years ago from consumption.
The search for a new wife had been a quick one with Lady Moira becoming more and more insistent. Close friends of Lord Vaughan had studied the villagers for almost a year, looking for the right candidate. He was a bit older and did not have a temperament for a younger partner. While they fulfilled his carnal needs, they were not the type to be a Lady with whom he could control the estate. So the choice of the spinster daughter of the tailor in town was a surprise to everyone. And while Rosalynne was a true spinster, living in solitude, she did not marry after losing her betrothed years earlier.
The door opened again, this time it was Grier, one of Lord Vaughan’s men who seemed to run her life now. “Lady Rosalynne, come with me.”
Slowly, she stood up, grateful it was dark enough that you couldn’t see through her gown. She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to be more modest, but that seemed like a wasted effort at this point. She followed him down the hall. The cold stone floors were making her bare feet grow numb. As they turned the corner, they passed the door that led to Lord Vaughan’s chambers.
“Where are we going?” she asked, confused that they passed his door.
“To the end of the wing — Lord Vaughan’s chambers are off limits.”
“But I thought…”
Grier stopped and turned around. “While you are indeed his wife now, you will not be permitted in his chambers unless he has invited you. Even Lady Abigail was never permitted in there.” He turned away from her and continued down the hall, annoyed once more by one of Rosalynne’s questions. She overheard him a few days go discussing with Tobias, another one of Lord Vaughan’s men “while she may be child-bearing and somewhat beautiful, her curiosity may wear out her welcome sooner than we expected.”
At then of the wing, an open door poured light out into the hallway. She felt her body tighten, anxious of what was to come. She drew a deep breath to settle herself, let her arms fall to her sides, straightened up, and looked ahead with whatever confidence she could gather.
There were several maidens in the room, dressed in similar gowns to Rosalynne’s, but red in color. Two were attending to a bed, straightening the blankets. Another was setting a table with fruit, cheeses and several kinds of spirits. And next to the fireplace was a large, cushioned chair. She stood just inside the doorway until Grier guided her in, and closed the door behind her. No one seemed to notice she was there.
Across the room, another door opened. Two men — dressed in loose black shirts and red trousers — walked in ahead of Vaughan. He looked considerably less formal than she had ever seen him: His hair was not tied back, but rather hung down, brushing the tops of his shoulders. She noticed for the first time how much grayer his hair actually was. He was barefoot and wore similar red trousers with a golden robe loosely tied around his waist.
“Ah, Lady Rosalynne,” he exhaled, his deep voice bouncing off the stone and wooden walls. He walked to her and placed his large hands on her hips, pulling her up against him. “I hope that you are not too tired from the ceremony and celebration of today.”
She smiled, hoping her nerves didn’t show. “No, I am enjoying the quiet though.”
After considering it, Rosalynne lifted her arms and placed her hands on the tops of his shoulders as she would have done in any other similar situation. Briefly, she remembered a night several years ago with Weldon, the man she had been engaged to. It was the last time they were together before he disappeared. Her heart sank and another piece of her former self withered away.
The affectionate gesture pleased Vaughan. His smile broadened and he wrapped an arm around her waist, using his free hand to gently sweep the loose tendrils from her face. “Would you like more wine?”
“No, I am still a bit dizzy from the celebration.” She had tried to look happy during the feast after the ceremony if only to please her parents who thought this was the best outcome for their oldest daughter. Her younger sisters had been married for a while and bore children, but Rosalynne's heart belonged to only one.
One of the maidens brought a chalice over to Vaughan. He took a long drink, tilting his head back. When he finished, he extended his hand out and the maiden took it away. He broke his gaze from her eyes and began to survey her body. With the back of his hand he grazed her breast, and then the other. Her nipples began to stretch against the gown, awaken by his touch and the fear of the unknown. She gasped and drew a deep breath. This made him smile even more.
“The ceremony of today isn’t complete,” he said in a hushed tone. His arm loosened from around her waist, his hand free to brush against her backside. He rested his hand on her buttocks and then squeezed slowly. Rosalynne drew another deep breath, her hands slipping down to just below his shoulders, onto his arms. She squeezed them equally as he gripped her ass. While he was a bit older than her, she was surprised by how fit he was. She could see his chest was still muscular and he had not let his gut go like many men his age. This might not be as uncomfortable as she initially thought.
He lowered his face into her neck and nuzzled her. She could feel his warm breath, smelling of wine and other spirits from the day. Her eyes closed, slowly sinking into this moment that she didn’t think she’d be able to do earlier this evening. He grazed her neck with his bottom lip, pulling up to just below her neck. “My love, we will be together as you would expect, but not immediately.”
She reached up and placed her hand on the back of his neck, running her nails up into this thick hair, “What do I need to do for my lord?”
He pulled his face back and looked her in the eye, his hands on either side of her face. “Lay on the bed for me.”
Rosalynne smiled and walked to the bed, first sitting on the edge. She waited for Vaughan, but he sat in the chair across from the bed, slouching down in a very relaxed position. One of the maidens brought him another drink. “Corinna, Lesia, please join Lady Rosalynne.”
No longer in the relaxed haze of his initial seduction, Rosalynne scooted to the end of the bed. “My lord,” she began, but stopped as soon as Corinna and Lesia — the two maidens who had been fixing the bed when she walked in, and the same maidens who had bathed her earlier — came over.
Corinna, a tall woman with wavy black hair and hazel eyes, climbed onto the bed behind Rosalynne. Lesia, a woman with golden curls that sprung out all over her head and down into a cascade down either side of her face, knelt before Rosalynne. Lesia looked up, past Rosalynne and at Corinna, and they began to caress her. Lesia’s hands slid slowly up and down the back of Rosalynne’s legs as they dangled over the edge of the bed while Corinna began to gently knead her shoulders. She began to relax again — but that was short-lived.
Across the room, another maiden, Martina, knelt in front of Vaughan, and untied his robe. She ran her hands, first up his thighs and then onto his stomach, pushing the robe aside. As she pulled her hands back down his chest, she stopped at his waist and began to remove his trousers. Vaughan never broke his watch of Rosalynne, but his new wife was growing more and more concerned. Before she could formulate a question from all the words in her frazzled mind, she watched as Martina took Vaughan’s manhood into her hands and began to stroke him, up and down.
Finally able to say something, Rosalynne leaned forward, just as Lesia ran her hands up to Rosalynne’s knees and pulled them apart from each other. Startled, she gasped and was more taken off guard as Corinna began to run her hands down past Rosalynne’s shoulders and down over her breasts. Lesia pushed her gown up for Corinna to pull over her head, leaving Rosalynne nude on the edge of the bed. She looked over at her husband, who now was enjoying Martina licking and sucking his member, fully erect.
“Lesia,” he called from across the room, “is my lady aroused?”
Lesia ran her hand in between Rosalynne’s thighs and across her most intimate area, causing the new bride to gasp. She looked down at Lesia who began to rub the tip of her finger across Rosalynne’s most sensitive place. The strokes were gentle and in a circular motion and between that and Corinna’s kneading her breasts while kissing her neck, Rosalynne began to feel the waves of desire building inside her. As Corinna moved from one side of her neck to the other, she pulled Rosalynne’s face to hers and began to kiss her passionately. Her tongue entered Rosalynne’s confused mouth and soon they both were enjoying each other.
“My lord,” asked Lesia in between kissing the inner thighs of Lady Rosalynne, “shall I devour her?”
Growing more and more aroused himself, Vaughan found a moment to center himself. “No, I have a feeling this time we won’t be able to hold her at bay for long." A short moan escaped his lips as Martina took all of him in her mouth and began to suck. "Tell me, is she close?”
Corinna stopped kissing Rosalynne just as Lesia put her finger inside her warm, moist center. Rosalynne moaned like she had never done before, unable to control herself. Not knowing who she should look to — Corinna who had now moved to her side to suck on her breasts, or Lesia who was slowly moving her fingers in and out of her — she looked across to her new husband. “My lord,” she moaned, hoping her husband would come and enter her.
Vaughan stood up, gently moving Martina off to the side. He walked across the room slowly, his robe open and his member erect. As he grew closer, Corinna and Lesia stopped and joined Martina. As the three maidens walked to the other side of the room to join Vaughan’s men who accompanied him in the first place, Rosalynne felt the puddle beneath her. She noticed the servants began to devour each other as they had done the newlyweds just recently. One of the men took Lesia's hand and began to lick the fingers that had been inside Rosalynne. He caught her eye and smiled, enjoying her taste from Lesia's fingers.
Finally, Vaughan reached the edge of the bed, which was high enough that he was able to reach around Rosalynne’s waist and pull her to the edge. “I wanted to taste you, but I’ll save that for later. I don’t think either one of us can wait much longer.”
Before she could agree with him, he guided his member inside of her core in one, smooth, steady thrust until he was fully inside her. Rosalynne moaned again, gripping the blanket beneath her and arching her back. Vaughan waited until she opened her eyes before he began to slide in and out of her — at first completely so that each time he entered her, he felt her tighten around him and she grew wetter. “Yes my Rosalynne, I feel the waves building inside you. Tell me how I feel inside you.”
Her grip on the bed grew tighter and her eyes flew open to see her husband pumping away at her core. “My lord, your member fills me and with each thrust I get closer.” She took a moment to catch her breath and then looked him in the eye, “Tell me am I bringing you to the edge as well? You’ve remained hard and your pace is slowly, oh, my lord, oh…”
Vaughan pulled out of Rosalynne and pushed her up to the middle of the bed and crawled up, kneeling before her. He lifted her at the waist and guided his member back inside to the warm, wet embrace of his bride’s core and as he began thrusting again, he searched for her most sensitive area with his fingers and began to stroke it as Lesia did before. He watched Rosalynne arch and twist in front of him, the intensity becoming too much for her to manage. “Come, Lady Rosalynne,” he said in a near growl.
Unable to fight and hope that she could reach the climax with him at the same time — as she had done with Waldon years before — she released. The final wave washed over her, sending her body into a tremor like she had never felt before. She reached out and grabbed Vaughan’s wrists in the final throws, hoping to anchor her somehow. After a few moments of calm, she collected herself enough to look at her husband, who was still sliding in and out, but not at the pace as he had before.
“My lord, how do I give you that same euphoria?” She gently released his wrists and propped herself up on her elbows. “What can his lady do?”
He pulled completely out of her and gently turned her over onto her stomach. He pulled her back towards him by her hips and guided his member back inside of her. The sensation reignited Rosalynne, causing her to moan his actual name. He brought the rest of her body up so that her back was against his chest, wet with perspiration. Instinctively, she began to bounce up and down on his member and he held her breasts in his hands while he kissed her from the middle of her spine all the way up to the base of her skull.
“Tighter,” he moaned, and she obliged, focusing her efforts to please her husband rather than to reach euphoria again. For a moment, Rosalynne worried that she would never have a night like this again — that he would prefer the services of the maidens over her, that she would never enter his chambers down the hall, and that if she were not to be impregnated tonight, it would be a task rather than this blissful experience. She was determined for that not to happen.
“Vaughan, fill me.” She reached back and placed her hands on his hips and began to grind herself against him, hoping a new sensation would bring him over the edge. “Does this please you?”
Gently he bit down on her shoulder, almost playfully, completely out of character. “Rosalynne, lie down on your stomach.”
She did as she was asked, disconnecting momentarily from Vaughan. She pulled a pillow underneath her torso, which he pulled further underneath her hips and then, laying on top of her, he one more time entered her, with such a forceful thrust, she cried out his name in one long moan, “Vaughan.”
His member was throbbing and he knew that he was close. With every forceful thrust, he grew closer, and on the fifth one, he felt release. Jolt after jolt he filled Rosalynne, moaning himself, and once he was spent, he collapsed fully onto his wife. They lied there silent, each trying to catch their breath and return to earth. Once they centered themselves, Vaughan rolled off of her and noticed that they were alone in the room. He looked over at her and brushed the hair out of her face. She had drifted off to sleep.
This room was not where he wanted to spend the rest of this night. He rolled off the bed and tied his robe shut, making his way to the door. Outside, the two male servants were standing there. He waved them in and quietly instructed them to carry Lady Rosalynne back to his chambers. As they gently gathered her in a blanket and carried her to his room, he collected her gown and a challice of wine, which he drank on his way back.
Vaughan covered his wife underneath the emerald green blanket on his bed. He removed his robe and climbed in next to her as nude. Gently he caressed her body and wanted to awake her for more relations.
While this marriage was to bore an heir to the House of Merricks, Vaughan realized that he may have found more in the older seamstress from the village.
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