Page 71 of Duchess Material

“No, I won’t. You’re five years younger than me. That’s not exactly a child. What does it involve? What is your test?”

“It involves your face,” Lucy said, unexpectedly kissing him again.

Kissing was fine. He could do with kissing. Winston was still confused about what was going on. Lucy could get so self-conscious about the strangest things. Winston wanted to lean her back on the couch. He started to move that way when Lucy pushed him back.

“I want you to go down on me.”

Finally! It had taken literal months before she’d allowed him this. It was the strangest thing. Winston could have had Lucy six ways from Sunday. He’d made he squirt in the middle of a busy house in the afternoon. They’d gone at it all over the house here. Yet, she always stopped him from doing this. And how was it a litmus test? Had previous lovers been bad at it? To his knowledge, Lucy hadn’t been with many people. He known her a long time.

“Sure, sure,” Winston agreed, nearly jumping to pin her back on the couch. He ripped off her jeans and knickers like a man possessed and then she stopped him.

“Not here,” Lucy said.

Winston looked up at her, “Huh?”

“The dogs. They’re right there and I—”

“They don’t matter, Lucy. They are always around—”

“Not all five of them and this feels so… private.”

Winston gave her a look.

She fired back. “Really? You’re protesting moving the party upstairs?”

“I am right here. And I’m a lazy man.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because it has been months and I haven’t been able to do this.”

“Do you want to?”

“If you could feel how hard I was right now, you’d be aware of how much I do want to, Lucy.”

One of the dogs whined. Winston acquiesced. Boner or no, the party had to move upstairs. Lucy hopped up. She was now wearing only a bra and racing up the stairs. Winston followed until she ducked into what was still technically “her” room. Winston threw her back on the bed and drowned in her pussy. It was now a quest to prove how good he was at this, so she’d want to do it again. Wait, was that the test?

Lucy was in her head at first. He could tell. The usually loud woman wasn’t. Winston usually got something back, but he was undaunted. He tried something else and felt her hips tilt into him. He heard and then, looking up briefly, saw her grab the bedspread. Okay, it was working. Slowly, she wound up. She pulled on his hair, she moaned loudly as ever, and she swore.

“There! I swear to fucking God if you move an inch!” Lucy panted.

Her legs braced. He was not moving.

“Oh my… fuck! God! Shit!” Lucy screamed. A dog whined outside the door. It was probably Frida thinking her favourite person was murdered.

Lucy writhed for a bit. Winston kissed her on the inside of her thigh as she came down. He climbed back up, lying next to her as she caught her breath.

“You didn’t have to stop. We could—”

Winston shook his head.

“What? Was it awful?” Lucy panicked.

“Was what awful? Was I awful?” Winston asked.

“No, no… just me… it?”

“Your pussy?” Winston snickered. “Was it awful? Your pussy? Can you say it?”

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