“And what is that?”
“Why you of course, you dunderheaded fool.”
“But I could not continue along this path could I? Not after last time.”
“Oh Edward, you are still hurting aren’t you?”
He nodded but did not answer.
“Yes your fiancée cheated on you with a papa. I have no doubt it was a painful experience. But surely it is time to move on. She is gone. He is gone. There can be no harm in loving again.”
“But what if…”
She reached across and slapped the back of his hand. “Enough! If you love Laura, you should tell her. She would make as good a little for you as you would a papa for her.”
He stood up, allowing a small smile to cross his lips. “Your advice is as sound as always Mrs Flanders. I am in your debt.”
“Remember that next time we discuss my pay,” she replied as she returned to her needlework.
Chapter 11
It took Laura a long time to get to sleep that night. The whispering of the other women in the nursery was difficult enough to cope with, as was the occasional moan coming from the beds at the far side of the room. The fact that she was laid in an oversized cot having been tucked in by the housekeeper did not help either. Nor did her self consciousness about wearing only a nappy to bed. But worst of all were her racing thoughts. She could not stop thinking about Mr Westall. The look on his face when she’d had her hands between her legs, she would not forget that for a very long time.
It was the first time he had not looked furious with her. She had glanced up at him through half closed eyes as he stared at her core, seeing a hungry look to him, as if he wanted to ravish her there and then.
When she did finally sleep, her dreams were filled with thoughts of him. His hand slid over her posterior again, moving into her as she moaned in place. Her mouth open as he thrust himself past her lips. Tied to the doctor’s table whilst he examined her closely.
By the time she awoke she felt overwhelmed with lust. She looked around her and noticed the nursery was empty. Did I oversleep? She climbed over the side of the cot and jumped down to the floor. Where did my dress go?
“Lazybones wear no clothes,” Mrs Flanders said from the doorway. “A day spent naked should ensure you are up on time from now on. Come on, we are going on a field trip.”
“No, but I cannot. I am naked.”
“You have a nappy do you not?”
“That is hardly suitable attire for travel.”
“Listen to your inner child. It does not care about such things, only about pleasure and the present, nothing more.”
“I am not a child!”
“I beg to differ. Adults do not stamp their feet when they do not receive enough gifts from their parents. Adults do not scream and hurl abuse when they do not get their own way. Adults do not get up late. Should I go on?”
“Please Mrs Flanders. Please find me something to wear.”
“What kind of person would I be if I gave in to begging? Now come over here and have breakfast.”
She pulled out her large breast and Laura shook her head. “No, please, not again.”
“You will be spanked if you refuse.” She took a step closer to Laura. “Besides, I know you are hungry.”
She grabbed Laura’s wrist and held her in place. “I will not,” Laura said.
“You will!”
Laura felt the older woman’s hands on the back of her head, pushing her downwards. Her mouth opened without her realising and then the nipple was past her lips and she was gulping the warm fluid down, sucking at the nipple and at times allowing her tongue to slide around it in concentric circles.
Her insides tingled as she heard Mrs Flanders’ breath change, becoming more laboured as she continued to lick at her nipple. She realised she was inadvertently teasing her and felt a tiny dash of power for the first time since arriving. She moved her hand up to the other breast, testing her reaction as she squeezed I harshly. Mrs Flanders said nothing.
Deciding to see how far she could take things, she slid her hand up to the strap on Mrs Flanders’ shoulder, sliding the dress free to expose her chest in its entirety.
She began to play with the globe of flesh so recently revealed, all the while continuing to suckle. She squeezed the nipple between her fingers, her own nipples stiffening as she did so.
Mrs Flanders stroked her hair. “That’s a good little,” she said, her hand moving down to Laura’s breasts, cupping them in her hand, her palm brushing back and forth over the hardened nipples.
Her hand slid down towards Laura’s nappy but just as it began to reach inside Mr Westall’s voice reached them from downstairs. “We are waiting Mrs Flanders.”