Candice my wife? My lover?

In 1784 a husband and wife have a domestic altercation


“Yes Candice I only married you for your money,” I admitted once again as my dear neurotic wife of some ten months laid into me once more with a barrage of unfair accusations.

“Whore chaser!” she opined, “I should never have married you!”

I sighed, I agreed, ours was the union from hell. She married me for my title. I married her for her dowry.

We conjoined as is proper to consummate the union and had subesequently repeated the act on several occasions.

“You want a whore not a wife!” she opined.

“Absolutely,” I agreed and I went back to my book work.

“Ohhhh!” she exclaimed and she went away to my great relied.

I finally finished working at eleven o’clock.

I thought of Candice alone in her cold lonely bed, I thought I should apologise.

I went up. I knocked. “Shhhh,” a voice inside commanded, “Quiet.”

She had a lover, I threw the door wide and there in the candlelight Candice lay upon the bed, her legs wide spread as her maid manhandled one of the largest candles I ever set eyes upon which protruded lewdly from Candice’s quim.

“Dear god Candice,” I sighed, “What is the meaning of this.”

“She made me do it sir,” Mary, the maid insisted.

“Indeed,” I queried, “Run along I shall be along to ravish you presently.”

The maid ran from my sight.

“Don’t look at me in that accusing manner,” Candice insisted.

“I am quite frankly amazed,” I declared, “Ten months married and this is my first sight of your quim.”

“Well you blow the candles out,” she exclaimed.

“To protect your modesty.” I averred.

“To disguise your paltry manhood,” she challenged.

“Paltry compared to that monster perhaps,” I agreed.

“At least it is hard,” she snapped.

“Woman there is no deficiency in my manhood I assure you!” I insisted.

She laughed. I dropped my breeches and kicked away my brogues.

“Ch-Charles,” she gasped, “Why it’s.”

“Magnificent?” I queried as I threw off my shirt and overshirt.

“Hard,” she admitted.

“So cast that candle aside and submit!” I insisted.

“Charles,” she protested, “Are you inebriated? what has come over you.”

“A realisation that I have no regard for you what so ever!” I snapped.

She remained immobile so I took the candle from her and kneeling between her parted creamy thighs I rammed my cock into her moistened quim forcing it deep inside her.

“Take that you whore!” I cursed as my whole length speared mercilessly into her with no consideration whatever. “And that,” I thrust again, and again, and again.

“Charles what has roused you so?” Candice demanded.

“Silence woman, let me fuck you,” I demanded.

“You just need a whore, oh very well,” she agreed, “Fuck away sir. Have no tenderness. No sweet kisses. No love. Just fuck me like some common whore in a back alley.”

The thought of Candice naked in a back alley was just too much for me.