Laundry Tales 06 Nude Maiden
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Laundry Tales 09: Nude Fiancé free porn video
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Copyright jeanne_d_artois July 2011
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary, the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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The laundry of my ancestors’ house is now my workshop. I’m a potter and good enough at my trade to make a reasonable living from it.
The main attraction of the laundry room was Martha, the resident ghost. I was aware of her from an early age. I would sit on the scrubbed table and ask Martha to tell me a story. She always did. When I became an adult, she told me about incidents in her life at the Hall. Each time I become Martha and experience the events exactly as she had. This is one of those stories.
I had just loaded my latest work in the furnace, poured myself a glass of chilled Rosé and sat down, when I heard Martha’s voice in my head.
‘Ready for another of my tales?’
Of course I was. I rarely refuse when Martha offers me a story. She only speaks to me when I’m in a receptive mood.
‘This story is from the mid-19th Century. It was high summer and the family had come down from London for August, bringing several friends. One of their friends was Elaine, a distant cousin. Jerome, a closer relation and a younger son, was also staying. He had just finished his degree and was deciding what to do with his life. His eldest brother Henry would inherit the title and estates.
The next eldest, Archibald, had become a minister in the Church of England and was in charge of a Parish church that was in the family’s gift. Jerome didn’t like the idea of joining the Army, a traditional role for a younger son. All he had decided was that he liked Elaine, but how could he support her? He hadn’t been able to seek Elaine’s father’s formal permission to pay his addresses because he couldn’t answer the obvious question: ‘What are your prospects?’
Elaine was irritated. She wanted Jerome. But she wanted the Jerome who could make up his mind, could DO something, and the Jerome who would approach her father to demand her hand in marriage. She had tried hinting, encouraging, cajoling, persuading, but Jerome couldn’t see how he could support the two of them.’
‘That summer was as hot as this one. You are lucky. Elaine had to wear the appropriate dress for a genteel mid-Victorian woman. Even with her widest crinoline and lightest day dress she would be wearing far more than you are now.’
I sipped some more wine. I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing a clay-stained baggy T-shirt over a loose seersucker skirt. My legs and feet were bare. As I looked I felt myself turning into Elaine. As usual when I’m listening to one of Martha’s tales, shortly after she started talking in my head I became the heroine of the story and experienced it as if I was that person. Now I had become Elaine. I could still faintly hear Martha’s voice but I was in character as Elaine. I knew what Elaine knew. I wanted what Elaine wanted.
As her, my legs were cool inside loose cotton pantaloons. My feet were hot in buttoned ankle boots. My waist and torso were constricted inside a laced corset. My arms and shoulders were bare and protected from the sun by a parasol resting against my shoulder.
As I walked towards the lake my crinoline swayed allowing a slight breeze to caress my legs. I liked that. My hand swung my crinoline back and forth, more than would be decorous, but there was no one else around. As I passed a hedge, there was Jerome. I dropped my skirt quickly.
Without saying a word, Jerome kissed my hand and continued to hold it. I gently removed it from his grasp and tucked it into his crooked elbow. I led him towards the lake. Jerome would never dictate where I should go or what I should do. How could he? He had no rights over me and he was too diffident, or too shy, to insist on anything.
My parasol was protecting me from the mid-morning sun as we walked alongside the lake. Inwardly I was seething with frustration at Jerome’s lack of direction. Outwardly, we were making polite conversation about the weather.
‘It might be unbearably hot this afternoon,’ I said.
‘I’m sure it will be,’ Jerome replied. ‘Look at the labourer in the field over there. He’s wearing nothing above his waist except a straw hat. I’m sure he is cooler than either of us.’
‘Perhaps he is. But we couldn’t wear so little. It isn’t done.’
‘Isn’t it? Perhaps not for ladies, nor for gentlemen when in mixed company, but if I were alone I might strip right off and bathe in the lake.’
‘That sounds nice,’ I replied as brightly as I could in the increasing heat. ‘Why don’t you?’
‘I couldn’t! Not with you here.’ Jerome replied.
‘And I couldn’t either. The only way ladies are allowed to bathe is at the coast using a bathing machine and professional dippers. Even then we wear so many clothes that swimming is almost impossible.’
‘Can you swim?’ Jerome asked with more animation than he had shown for days.
I considered what to reply. If I admitted that I could he might think me hoydenish and unladylike. If I said that I couldn’t, I’d be lying. When I was a child we often spent the summer months at a family house in Cornwall. My nurse was a fisherman’s daughter who thought that everyone should learn to swim. She taught me to swim from our private beach. I could swim in calm water and in rough seas — nude. If there was likely to be anyone around I would wear a light cotton chemise over pantaloons but when wet they were almost as revealing as bare skin. I had been wearing only the chemise when swum in the lake last summer, very early in the morning when only the housemaids were stirring.
‘A little,’ I decided was an acceptable compromise, not wholly true but not a complete lie. ‘Can you swim, Jerome?’
‘Yes. We used to swim in the river when I was at the University. It was colder than it would be in that lake but I could swim a reasonable distance.’
‘What are you going to do about it?’ I asked.
‘About what?’
‘Swimming.’
‘This afternoon, when everyone else is lying down complaining about the heat, I’m going to come to the lake and swim.’
‘You are?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m told that parts of the lake are dangerous because of the water plants.’
I didn’t say that I’d had difficulties last year with the water lilies tangling my legs. I pointed.
‘Those water lilies, for example. I think they have very extensive roots and aren’t always visible at the surface.’
‘I’m sure I’ll manage, Elaine.’
Would he? Swimming in a flowing river is very different from a static lake where plants grow vigorously.
‘How will you dry yourself?’
‘That’s easy. I asked one of the maids for some extra towels.’
We had reached the end of the lake where a rustic bridge crossed the stream that feeds the lake. The stream tumbled over a tiny waterfall into the lake. We stood on the bridge and watched it. I wanted to shed my clothes and sit under that waterfall, but I couldn’t.
‘When will you be swimming?’ I asked, trying to divert myself from that inviting cascade.
‘About five o’clock, I think. Why? Will you be joining me?’ Jerome laughed as if that was an impossibility.
I smiled. I wanted to swim too.
‘Why so late? Won’t people be moving around then?’
‘I’d like it to be earlier, Elaine, but I’m meeting my Uncle Jonas at the railway station at two-thirty. He wants to see me before he goes back to Leeds.’
‘Uncle Jonas? Who’s he? You haven’t mentioned an Uncle Jonas before, have you?’
‘Probably not. He was the black sheep of the family. He went into trade and married a citizen’s daughter. He’s asked to see me particul
arly. I don’t know why but I’m intrigued. Why should the black sheep want to see me and not my father or one of my elder brothers? It’s a mystery. His letter was enclosed in a letter to Henry. Henry was asked to ensure that I received it without the knowledge of my father. Henry did just that. He too would like meet and to know more about Uncle Jonas.
Jonas is quite specific about the time. He has to catch a train to Leeds that leaves at four o’clock by Railway Time. I know that’s a few minutes different from local time, but whether earlier or later, I’ve no idea. I’ll be at the railway station at two o’clock just to be sure.’
‘Is he rich? Has he any sons? Or daughters?’
Jerome laughed again.
‘It’s no use asking me! I have no idea. Uncle Jonas was barely mentioned in the family. I’m sure that my father would not approve of me meeting Uncle Jonas. Apart from Henry knowing I had a letter, you are the only person who knows. Now you know I’m actually meeting Uncle Jonas in secret. Henry doesn’t know that.’
I hugged the thought to myself that Jerome had trusted me, and only me, with his secret. What could his Uncle Jonas want? Then I realised something else. Jerome had taken a decision for himself with no prompting and no consultation with anyone. He was defying his family’s implied disapproval. Perhaps there was some hope for him after all.
I squeezed Jerome’s arm.
‘You have to tell me about your secret meeting. Can we meet this afternoon after Uncle Jonas has gone?’
‘Of course, but I would like to swim.’
Jerome looked longingly at the cool water of the lake. We were at the edge under a willow tree, invisible to anyone else. It was the place I had swum from last year.
‘You can meet me, here, at half-past four, and then swim. Here.’
I emphasised the ‘here’. I knew this part of the lake was free of water lilies.
‘As long as you don’t peek, Elaine.’
‘Jerome! Would I do such an unladylike thing?’ I protested.
Of course, I might. I might also swim, myself, after Jerome had gone. I wanted to make sure that he was safe. I wasn’t confident that his swimming abilities were as good as he thought.
We walked slowly back to the house. The morning was getting warmer. By this afternoon it would be intolerably hot, dressed as I was. The family would be resting in darkened rooms until the evening meal.
No one except me noticed when Jerome took a horse from the stables and rode to the railway station. I was waiting for him when he returned the horse.
‘Elaine! Are you so desperate to hear what Uncle Jonas said?’
‘Perhaps. But the stables are the coolest part of the estate, except by the lake.’
‘I have to change. I’ll be at the lake in ten minutes. Will you be there?’
‘Yes, Jerome. I’ll be there.’
Jerome seemed excited. I had already changed. Instead of my crinoline I was wearing an old round dress that I normally wore only when my hair was being cut. I had taken off my corset and my boots. If I wanted to swim, I could undo a few buttons and wriggle out of that dress in seconds. I was wearing absolutely nothing underneath — but Jerome hadn’t noticed.
My maid had been horrified that I intended to leave my room dressed so lightly. She was prepared to dress my hair on my return especially if I had been swimming but her disapproval was apparent.
The grass seemed cooler to my bare feet. They were completely hidden by my long skirts. I felt much cooler without the restricting tight-laced corset even though the afternoon sun was beating down.
Behind the willow tree I had concealed some towels. I sat down with my back against the tree trunk. As I heard Jerome approach I hurriedly tucked my bare feet under my dress.
He sat down beside me. Before I could protest, he had picked me up, dumped me on his lap and kissed me. My arms flapped as he kissed me again. As I began to enjoy his kisses my arms encircled his head. I kissed him back. Eventually we stopped and I rested my head against Jerome’s shoulder.
‘Was Uncle Jonas the bringer of good news?’ I asked. Jerome had changed so much in a couple of hours.
‘Yes. But my family won’t like it.’
‘They won’t? But you will?’
‘Yes, and yes. He owns several cotton mills and needs a manager — me. Not to run the mills. He has experts for that. But to look after his interests and manage his finances.’
‘Why you, Jerome?’
‘He had been following my work at university. Apparently he knows some of the dons and they had been pleased with me, particularly with my understanding of mathematics and finance. Uncle Jonas wants to travel with his wife but his interests, and his businesses, need someone to watch over them. He thinks that I’m the only one of his extended family who is suitable.’
‘He has no children?’
‘No. His wife miscarried badly with their first. She cannot conceive again. She had been weak for some years but has now recovered her strength so she wants Jonas to show her parts of Europe he has talked about but she has never seen. If I’m successful after about six months, they’ll start travelling next Spring.’
‘I’m sure you will be. Will Uncle Jonas be paying you?’
‘That’s the good part. While I’m learning he’ll pay me five thousand a year…’
‘Five thousand pounds?’
‘No, Elaine. Guineas!’
Jerome laughed.
‘My allowance from my father is one thousand pounds a year. I couldn’t marry you on that.’
He kissed me again.
‘But now, I can ask your father. I hope you won’t object?’
My kiss answered him.
Much later when we stopped kissing I had a thought.
‘Jerome. Before you ask my father, shouldn’t you tell yours about working for Uncle Jonas?’
‘Yes. Although he couldn’t stop me. I’m over twenty-one. He could cease my allowance. That’s all he could do. I suppose he could disown me and cut me out of his will, but I wouldn’t get much anyway. Most of the property is entailed and will go to Henry. I’ll just tell my father I’m going to work for his brother. Father can do what he likes. He might not approve but…’
My kiss ended his sentence. Jerome’s father might not approve but I liked Jerome deciding for himself.
We walked towards the lake. Jerome had suggested that I wait for him while he went swimming but not peek. I agreed. He didn’t notice that I had only agreed to wait for him. I hadn’t answered his request for me not to peek.
I saw that Jerome was wearing the so-called university costume, a small triangular slip of material tied at that side of his waist. I approved of his physique. I knew that he had taken part in many sports at university but his fashionable clothes had concealed his considerable muscular development.
I soon stopped peeking and became worried. He was heading for the water lilies. I threw off my dress and hidden by bushes I crept as close to the water’s edge as I could without Jerome seeing me.
As I expected, he got his feet tangled. At first he seemed surprised but then he was in obvious trouble. Before he had started to shout for help I was in the water and heading for him. I reached him as his head dipped below the surface. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled his head back to rest between my breasts.
‘Relax, Jerome!’ I ordered. ‘Just lay back while I sort you out.’
He nodded weakly. I made sure that his head was above the water as I dived down to untangle his legs. I had to surface twice before his legs were free.
I pulled his head back between my breasts and set off towards the bank. Gradually his legs began to kick to help our progress. Once I had grounded my back in the shallows I stood up and helped him to stand. I put his arm around my shoulders as we walked to his pile of towels.
I dried him. He dried me. His manhood acknowledged me very satisfactorily. That salute convinced me that Jerome was recovering from his ordeal.
‘Thank you, Elaine. I would have drowned except for you.’
‘You would have. You wouldn’t have been in been in danger if you had listened to me.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. How can I repay you?’
‘A kiss would be nice…’
His kiss was satisfactory but Jerome needs practice. I tried to show him how to kiss better. He pulled away suddenly.
‘Elaine! This is improper! You’re naked! So am I! Anything might happen!’
I looked down at his impressive manhood.
‘I suppose it might. It might, Jerome — if we were engaged. It would, if we were married…’
‘But we’re not. We’re neither. I haven’t…’
I stopped his words with another kiss, more demure than my last one. I sighed.
‘I suppose we had better get dressed. That’s a shame. I had wanted a real swim.’
Jerome looked at me. He really looked, from toes to my hair. I blushed.
‘You could. I’ll wait for you and warn if anyone comes.’
‘You would?’
I kissed him again, turned and dashed back into the lake. As I swam I watched Jerome getting dressed. He was having difficulty as he was watching my body instead of concentrating on dressing. Perhaps I shouldn’t have swum on my back so much, displaying my breasts, my legs and what is between them? I had seen all of Jerome. Now he was seeing all of me.
When I emerged, Jerome was there, eager to wrap me in a towel and dry my body. Drying and dressing took a long time with interruptions for kissing and cuddling. Eventually I was almost decent but his clothes were nearly as wet as if he had been swimming in them.
We made our way back to the house, separating before anyone could see us. My maid fussed over my hair, insisting on washing it because she considered it unfit for company.
That evening Jerome and I pretended that nothing had happened, that we hadn’t seen each other completely naked, nor had we pressed our naked bodies together. We behaved as polite people do in company.
Late on the next day Jerome left to go to London. The train service meant that he would be there in time for dinner. He would tell his father that he had accepted Uncle Jonas’ offer and would start working for him next month. Jerome had asked me to wait for a month or two before I could expect him to approach my father. After all, he might not be very good at the work Uncle Jonas wanted him to do. I agreed to wait, but I wanted Jerome, now.
I left to go home early on the following day. Every week Jerome wrote to me. Every week I wrote to him. After a few weeks his letters became less enthusiastic, less passionate. I didn’t think I could ask him why in a letter, so I persuaded my mother to take us to the London house. From there I could get to see Jerome in person even if it had to be clandestinely.
It didn’t have to be in secret. Jerome called at our house within days of our arrival. As distant members of the same family we didn’t stand on ceremony. My mother left us alone together as soon as the polite interchanges had been completed, you know, ‘how’s great-uncle Fred’s gout?’ and so on.
I moved to kiss him. He recoiled.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘Why no kiss?’
He took my hand and led me to a settee. He sat me down and remained standing. He raised his hand, signalling me for silence while he spoke.
‘Archibald saw us at the lake. He wrote to my father, in elliptical terms, suggesting that I was consorting with a ‘loose woman’ as Archibald put it. My father was already displeased with me for accepting Uncle Jonas’ offer and nearly threatened to disinherit me. The money wouldn’t matter. Uncle Jonas has offered me a permanent position. But I don’t want to upset my father too much. Except for his distaste for Uncle Jonas, which has a cause in ancient family history, I love my father.’
I nearly said something but Jerome raised his hand again.
‘I would have dismissed Archibald’s letter except that he said that he saw you naked in the lake three days later with another man…’
That was too much.
‘That’s impossible!’ I retorted. ‘I swum in the lake that one day, the first time to save you from drowning, which you might remember, but we all left the morning after you did. I was in London three days later, in fact I was in London twelve hours after you were. You can ask my mother, or father, when we left and I haven’t been back.’
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