“Are we quite alone?” he said. “My wife . . .”

“Yes, the mistress has gone out,” Miranda said. “And I am not sure she would mind us attending to your needs. We took care of hers two hours ago. I must say that Mrs. Welland enjoys attention to her forbidden door.”

Anne giggled. Newland wondered at this. His May was at times a more passionate woman than he gave her credit for, though not nearly as passionate as Ellen . . . or was she? But the feeling of Anne’s mouth on his shaft soon made these thoughts flee from his brain. It was nice to have passion without obligation.

Newland was still groggy for having fallen asleep in the day, but with the pleasure the servants were giving him, he felt himself rising to their affection. But just as easily as he had forced the thoughts of the other women out of his mind, they reappeared. He thought of the Countess again and how satisfying her touch was, and with that, he was determined to play with the maids, and if need be, fantasize about the woman who impassioned him the greatest.

Miranda removed her hand from herself and brought it to Newland’s lips. He opened his mouth and let her glide her fingers inside, so that he could taste the cream she had readied for him. The perfumed scent of her passion, one he had come to know well over the years of her devotion to him, had the immediate effect of further arousing him.

Anne continued to lick his staff, and when he ground his hips desirously, she took the full crown into her mouth and began to suck. Miranda hopped on the chair and straddled him. She pulled her petals open to him and exposed her vermillion orchid for his pleasure. Her female aroma wafted upward, stiffening his member even further.

Newland brought his hand to her feminine folds and began sliding his fingers through her moist passion. Miranda moaned and undulated her hips, letting him touch her freely. She pressed one of her breasts to his mouth, and he eagerly took it, rolling his tongue around the flesh before pulling forward to suck the large, hard nipple. With his other hand, he grasped the other breast, massaged it, and then squeezed the tip. Unrestrained, Miranda purred wildly as he continued to pleasure her more.

He slid two fingers inside her buttery sheath, circled them around, and then drummed them in and out. “Let me inside of you,” he said, and then waited for Miranda to dismount, and Anne to withdraw. “On the table.”

Miranda positioned herself across the writing desk and opened her legs wide.

“Anne, stand over her,” he said, and so Anne stood on the table, straddled Miranda, and spread open her legs.

Newland reached to feel inside Anne’s slick sheath, strummed his fingers in her, and then tasted her cream. Then he returned his hand to her orchid, and with his other hand found Miranda’s sheath, which was positively deluged with lust. In perfect synchronicity, he drummed them both to the same beat. Both maids moaned lustfully without any inhibition whatsoever. A moment later, he found their pearls with his thumbs and began to heighten the intensity of their pleasure, while also continuing to dip his fingers into their saucy butter.