A New Man of the House (Downton Abbey MMF bisex menage erotica)

Edwin Mudd has recently learned that he is the heir to Marchmount House and an enormous fortune. He arrives to take possession of the house and is met by Dame Mary, the middled-aged yet beautiful and elegant mother of the former heir; she will remain on his estate as his tenant.

He must contend with Dame Mary, the distant relative who he has just displaced as the owner of the household; and a coterie of willing servants who, according to Dame Mary's instructions, Edwin can enjoy having as his sexual playthings.

But amid the debauchery, Edwin discovers that there may be something more worthwhile than merely penetrating all of his servants in every conceivable way...

This book is a collection of four previously-published stories: "Anything Else, My Lord"; "Sweet Dreams, My Lord"; "Whatever You Desire, My Lord"; and "I Will, My Lord".

Note: This erotic interlude features explicit scenes sex and debauchery intended for 18+ audiences.


Excerpt:

"What else may I do for you, my lord?" she asked.

So--that was indeed it. And Edwin knew he wouldn't be much help to the poor thing; just as she seemed unable to speak intelligibly about what she wanted, he knew that speaking directly about the subject would be impossible for him too.

"How old are you, my dear?" he asked.

"Nineteen, sir."

"I see." Conversation again failed him; he didn't know what he ought to say now.

She clamped shut, her face squeezed into a pout in an attempt to stop weeping. Edwin leaned forward and put a hand on her elbow; he didn't want to be improper, but the sight of the crying girl panicked him. "It's all right," he soothed her. "Shh, shh."

She moved closer, as if allowing him to grasp her arm more easily. "I just want to do as I'm meant to," she said among her sobs. "I wouldn't want to--to--"

Edwin felt a fresh rush of stimulation as she edged closer to him. He could detect a faint scent of soap, a tiny amount of heat radiating from her body. He hadn't been this close to a girl--to a woman, he corrected himself mentally--in some time.

"And tell me,” he said, his voice sounding heavy and strained in his ear, "what would Lord Marchmount have you do when you brought his tea?"

"Well, sir," she answered, and her tears seemed instantly to dry up. "Would it p'raps be better if I showed you?"

"I believe it might," he answered.

He was glad she suggested it, in fact; while he knew what sexual intercourse was, he wasn't quite certain how he might begin to procure it from her. Would he demand that she remove her clothing? Would he remove his own first? Would she need to lie on the floor, or--

She knelt in front of him and smiled, their faces almost touching now. His heart leapt as she leaned forward, placing her hands on his thighs. The delicate touch was as an electric current surging through him.

Her impish smile only broadened as her hands ran further up his legs, resting finally on the waistband of his trousers. If she were to feel any closer, she would find the growing erection therein, and he feared her doing so... and also ardently hoped that she would.

She ran her hands down, placing them on either side of his rigid shaft, and--glory!--pulled them together, putting a slight but definite pressure on him that was dizzyingly delightful.

Before he fully comprehended her actions, she had begun to loosen his flies, and once they were undone she took no time to pull his member free of both undergarments and trousers. There he was, all visible to her, to the world.

She gasped slightly. "You're quite large, sir," she breathed, not looking at him, her gaze fixed on the proud cock standing between them...