Moonlit Rendezvous

23 June 1770

Lady Alicia Milburn smiled as she sat at her dressing table, studying her reflection in the gilded mirror.The local dressmaker had outdone herself this time, coming up with a dress, which perfectly captured the spirit of Cleopatra. Made of the finest silk, it wasn’t quite see-through, but it was close enough to turn heads.  Not that she’d chosen it to turn heads. She’d chosen it because she wanted to look attractive for her Italian lover, Count Calastro.The coming masquerade was the ideal opportunity for intimacy and she wanted to make sure he only had eyes for her.

When she was younger, Lady Milburn would have been scandalised by the thought of having a lover, but now it seemed the most natural thing in the world.  The strange thing was it was her husband who had first given her the idea, indicating she was free to do as she wished, as long as she turned a blind eye to his own infidelity, which tended to involve foppish young men.
Glancing impatiently at the clock, Lady Milburn picked up her mask — a masterpiece of silver satin and sequins in the shape of an asp’s head – and put it on. It was funny how time seemed to slow to a crawl when you wanted it to pass quickly.

The masquerade Lady Milburn was attending was being held at the Earl of Salisbury’s mansion. Arriving at the entrance, she accompanied her husband inside.She glanced across at him as they made their way to the ballroom.  His jester’s outfit was not unflattering, but he was still a long way from handsome.They had barely spoken since they left home, and as soon as they reached the throng of revellers, he made his excuses and took his leave of her.
Lady Milburn took a deep breath, savouring the atmosphere of the room, with its crystal chandeliers and bright wall hangings.  Things were relatively staid at present, but they would heat up later.  That was the thing about masks — they melted away inhibitions.  And what masks she saw, encompassing everything from classical gods to fairytale monsters!
Suddenly, Lady Milburn spotted Count Calastro. She knew it was him, because he’d told her he would be wearing a Plague Doctor costume, consisting of a leather gown, a wide brimmed hat and a pale mask with a long beaklike nose. Seeing him now, she found the ensemble a little sinister, but also oddly alluring.
Slowly, he approached.  She opened her mouth to speak to him, but he walked straight past her, pausing only to run his hand through her hair.  Staring after him, she absently mimicked this gesture and discovered a tiny roll of parchment stuck into one of her combs.  There was but a single sentence written on it – “Meet me at the lake in two hours.”
So it was Lady Milburn found herself slipping out of the house just under two hours later and hurrying to the lake, which one of the other guests had informed her was situated in a nearby copse.  As she stood gazing across the moon-dappled water, a pair of arms encircled her from behind.  Identifying Count Calastro from his garment, she snuggled into his chest, saying softly, “Good evening, my love.”
Without answering, the count began to stroke her breasts.  Feeling her pulse quicken, she turned towards him.  He raised his mask slightly and he bent to kiss her.  In that moment, everything else ceased to exist; there was only the velvety touch of her lover’s lips, fanning the flames of desire inside her.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all evening,” she told him as they parted. “Dancing’s nice, but it makes your feet ache after a while.”
Nodding sympathetically, the count led her to the edge of the lake.  Swathed in his eerie costume, he was the very embodiment of mystery. He gestured for her to be seated.  Then, as she sank down onto the grass, he removed her sandals and lowered her feet into the cool water.  Straight away the tension eased. “That feels wonderful,” she said.
Still the count didn’t speak. His silence was unusual, but added a novel dimension to the encounter. Lifting Lady Milburn’s feet out of the lake, he dried them on the edge of his gown and raised the right one to his mouth, kissing it reverently.  Lady Milburn lay back, closing her eyes, as his lips travelled up her leg to her knee. He paused to peel back her dress and petticoats, exposing the lower part of her body to the gently gusting breeze, and then turned his attention to the soft flesh of her inner thighs.  By the time his tongue pushed through the tangle of hair at the top, there was already a pool of moisture beneath her. With agonizing slowness he began to lick her swollen vagina, sending her into a fit of ecstasy.  She bit her lip as he built up speed, losing herself in the throes of orgasm.
“I want you inside me,” she said as she regained control.
Turning away from her, the count removed his mask and put it back on upside down. It was an odd thing to do, but before Lady Milburn could ask him about it, he had dropped to his knees in front of her with his head between her thighs. She let out a low gasp as she felt the mask’s long nose nuzzling into her pubic hair and realized what he had in mind.  “Please tell me you aren’t thinking of putting that thing inside me,” she said nervously, her body tensing.  “It’s enormous.”
Moving his face back a little, the count began stroking her vagina.  His touch was so tender that she found herself relaxing in spite of herself.Then, as the mask crept closer again, her heart began to race.  She opened her mouth to voice a further protest, only to close it with a reluctant sigh.If the count had made up his mind, she wasn’t going to try and talk him out of it.  She was too afraid of the consequences.  The man had a voracious appetite for sexual experimentation and had told her long ago that if she wasn’t willing to accommodate him, he would find someone else who was.  Ensuring this didn’t happen was worth a little discomfort.  Besides, he had taken her on voyages of dark discovery before and she’d always ended up enjoying herself.  Why should this time be any different?
Lady Milburn watched the enormous artificial nose approach her vagina with wide eyes.  The thought of having it inside her filled her with fear, but it was also deeply arousing.  Her breathing quickened as the cool tip touch her quivering outer lips.  The next thing she knew, it was forcing its way inside her.  Clenching her fists, she gave a loud cry of pain.  It felt as if her vagina was about to be torn apart.  She spread her legs as far as she could, ignoring the impulse to tighten her muscles.  The nose edged forward, pressing painfully against her inner passage.  She gave another loud cry, which tailed off into a frantic whimpering, but this only made the count push harder.
Deeper and deeper the nose went, stretching Lady Milburn’s aching vagina ever wider.  By the time it reached the halfway point, she was seriously considering pushing the count away.  She felt like there was a fire raging between her thighs and knew the sensation was only going to get worse.  She leant forward, preparing to plant her hands on the count’s shoulders, and then fell back again, as she thought about losing him.  She had let things get this far; she wasn’t going to back out now.

At last the nose was all the way inside her.  The count paused to let her catch her breath, before settling into a rhythmic thrusting.  Harder and faster he went, until suddenly, Lady Milburn realised the pain had faded away, replaced by a tidal wave of explosive pleasure.  Her body shuddered and she started shrieking as she was carried to a second dizzying climax, which eclipsed anything she had ever experienced.
Part of Lady Milburn wanted the count to continue what he was doing all night, but that would have meant forfeiting the delights of his manhood, so she pushed him away.”Enough,” she said. “I want your you know what.”
Nodding, the count ducked behind a tree to remove his clothes.  He did not return.

***

“You look like you enjoyed yourself,” said Lady Milburn’s husband as they made their way back to their carriage a few hours later. “I wasn’t sure if you would, what with Count Calastro out of the country.”
Lady Milburn’s eyes widened.”Out of the country?” she repeated.
“Yes,” her husband confirmed. “As I understand it, he received word this morning that his mother had been taken ill and left for Italy at once.”
Lady Milburn was stunned. If it wasn’t Count Calastro she was with tonight, who was it? She glanced over her shoulder at the stream of masked faces leaving the house.  Finding the fellow wouldn’t be easy, but she was determined to do it. He needed to finish what he’d started.  Having a lover was all very well, but having two would be even better.

©2009 Christian Carter-Stephenson

Christian Carter-Stephenson was born in 1977 in the county of Essex in the United Kingdom. He has a degree in English & Performing Arts and a postgraduate diploma in Acting. He is currently flirting with careers in both acting and writing, while engaging in more mundane jobs to stay afloat on the turbulent sea of life. His ultimate ambition is to write a story so chilling the ink in his pen freezes. Recent publication credits include stories in the following magazines: The Willows, Dark Horizons, La Fenêtre, The Literary Bone, Thirteen, Seasons in the Night, Twisted Tongue, Sinister Tales, Legend, and Ethereal Tales. For more of his work visit his website: http://www.carter-stephenson.co.uk/