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Lady Arabella Fortescue-Hadleigh was nervous as she prepared for her wedding. She had stripped naked, showered, bathed, and perfumed herself. Now she stood before the mirror and appraised her beautiful young body. Tanned deeply golden all over after a summer on her family’s private island, her smooth skin was set off against her lustrous blonde hair. Riding, tennis, sailing and gymnastics had toned and honed her body, sculpting her into a vision of athletic perfection. Her legs were amazing: her thighs were powerful, her calves shapely, her ankles slender. Her arse was pert and firm, her waist narrow, her belly flat with a discrete six pack. Her breasts were full, proud, large-nippled. She was acknowledged as one of the season’s aristocratic beauties, the most eligible debutante of the year. And now she was to be married.
He courtship by Edward, heir to the Earldom of Wildenshire, had been exciting and romantic. Arabella and Edward had met on the ski slopes of St Moritz and fallen in love, and spent the next social season inseparable. She had met his family, easily winning over the old Earl who was impressed by her youthful charm and beauty. More importantly, she had managed to obtain the good graces of Edward’s mother the formidable Lady Agatha. The engagement had been announced in the newspapers of record and the court circulars, and arranged for the following September.
Arabella slipped on the lingerie she had chosen for her wedding night. A filmy, flimsy white lace bra was first. It was unneeded to support her firm breasts but nestled them enticingly, creating a deep cleavage. Then she fastened a suspender belt also of white lace around her trim waist. She took out a pair of sheer white stockings from their cellophane wrapper, and one by one drew them up her smooth-skinned long legs. She clipped each one to the six straps of the suspender belt. A blue and white lace garter went around her right thigh. Finally she drew on the wispy little thong to match the rest of her ensemble. She settled it snuggly between the globes of her perfect arse. Her pussy was completely shaven.
The young aristocrat slipped on her high-heeled stiletto shoes. Now over six feet tall in her heels, she looked at her mirror image and smiled. She had respected her fiancé’s stern family traditions and their relationship had remained unconsummated till now. But tonight that would change. The handsome young heir to the Earldom of Wildenshire was about to discover what a sexual force of nature he had married. Arabella smirked, knowing she was the best fuck any of her lucky lovers had ever known, and anticipating that night’s fun and games.
She put on her wedding dress, called for servants to attend her make-up and hair.
Elsewhere, her fiancé was also nervous.
“Where is my tie? Alberts, have you seen my tie?” he called as he completed dressing.
The family butler appeared smoothly and silently.
“Master Edward, your lady mother requests your presence” he murmured softly.
“What, now? Very well, Alberts” he replied, and made his way to his mother’s apartment.
He found his mother Lady Agatha looking poised and elegant in a green silk frock.
“Ah, my darling, you do look handsome!” she purred. Her voice was that of the upper classes, with a throaty, husky quality that gave it an added erotic edge.
“Thank you, Mother” he replied. “Afraid I’m not quite ready – can’t find my bally tie…”
“That’s because I hid it. I have a wedding day present for you instead” she said and held out a brand new hand made silk tie. It was of dark blue-black, decorated with an elegant gold design. Edward instantly recognised it – it had been modelled on the antique gold and leather dog collar his mother made him wear in their most intimate incestuous BDSM sex games. She held it out to him. They both knew what it meant. Even as he married Arabella, Edward would secretly be indicating to his mother that she was his one true mistress.
With shaking hands, he fastened the tie, Agatha reached out to gently help him, tightening the knot sharply and then using it to drag him down onto his knees before her. She smiled to herself.
“You have time…” she murmured.
“Time? For what?” he asked. And then she reached down and slowly raised the hem of her frock. Beneath it she wore dark stockings and…as she raised the dress higher, lifted it over her head, she revealed beneath it a suspender belt and bra in soft black leather, studded with silver spikes. Agatha did not usually dress so unsubtly, but she wanted this last time before her son was married to be a reminder to him who was in command when they fucked.
“Mistress Mummy!” he gasped.
“Perform, my baby boy! Perform the act of worship!” she ordered, exulting in her power over this young man who she had made into the perfect sex slave.
Understanding her need, the young aristocrat knelt at his mother’s feet, caressing her powerful legs in the expensive stockings from ankles to thighs, and brought his face bahçeşehir escort to her parted thighs, beginning to lick and kiss her as she had taught him when she first seduced him.
“Oh, yes!” Agatha sighed. “Yes, my son, my lover, my slave! Perform! Oh, yes! When you say your vows this afternoon – ah! Mmm! Oh! Yes! Think of this! Think of your mother!”
She twined her fingers in his hair tightly and ground her pussy into his face as Edward tongued her skilfully to the edge of orgasm and beyond, making her cry out. She allowed him up when he had satisfied her wicked lusts, and gave him a surprisingly maternal peck on the cheek.
“Good boy! Now finish getting ready and enjoy your day – after all, a young man only gets married once!”
As he left, Edward took one last look at his mother’s glorious body white as snow in her black leather bikini, heels and stockings, wondering if this had been their last time together now he was marrying.
The wedding was beautiful – everyone agreed. The music, the setting (the old family chapel), the bride in her open-shouldered wedding dress.
Nobody of course, except for Edward and his mother, noticed that his eyes flicked oh so briefly to where she sat when he uttered the words “with my body, I thee worship”. Nobody but them knew that in his mind he was reliving the incestuous act of oral sex, the tribute she had demanded, on his wedding morning.
After the wedding, the reception in the Wildenshire stately home Castle Grantwell was sumptuous – a magnificent banquet, live music and dancing till late at night.
Edward was rather relieved that his mother had not made any attempt to seduce him again, or even indulge in her usual clandestine flirtations. Instead, she had been the perfect society mother. She had graciously allowed her new daughter-in-law to enjoy being the centre of attention on her special day. And Arabella had been radiant. Beautiful, vivacious, and enjoying every opportunity to kiss and caress him, whispering promises of the erotic delights that were to come on their first night as husband and wife.
After many speeches, much glad-handing, dancing and merry-making, it was at last time for the happy couple to retire.
They bid the company goodnight amid some good-natured ribald jokes from his army friends and her girlfriends from finishing school, and Edward escorted Arabella away. Hand in hand, they went to his apartments.
Edward swept his new bride up into his arms and carried her across the threshold. He set her down, closed the door behind them and turned to look upon the nubile young woman who was now his.
“Would you like to undress your bride?” Arabella asked coquettishly.
“Yes, Edward – would you like to do just that?” Came a haughty husky voice behind him, followed by the click of the secret door closing. From where she had entered the room, Lady Agatha strode past her son to stand by the side of his new wife. Both the young couple gaped in amazement. Lady Agatha was wearing a copy of Arabella’s wedding dress. Perfectly identical in every detail, down to the tiara holding the wedding veil. She raised the veil, as Arabella had done with hers, and turned to face her son.
“Mother! What are you doing?” Edward asked.
“I am dressed for my son’s wedding night” she replied simply. “The night on which the WIldenshire ladies have always cemented their love for their firstborn”.
“Your Grace”, Agatha hissed, reminding Arabella of her superior social status. “Oh, don’t worry my dear, you will be permitted to consummate your wedding later. Tomorrow you go on your honeymoon, and I will not be imposing. But tonight, Edward is mine and I am his”.
“That’s evil – wrong…”
“It is simply how we do things in our family. How it always is, and always will be. In time, you will raise a son of your own. And I will aid you in raising him, moulding him, breaking him and dominating him. Many years from now, you will be in my position. But for now, your only place in this bedroom is as a witness to our consummation”.
“Edward – don’t let her do this! I am your wife! Your wedding night should be with me!” Arabella pleaded. She could see his hesitation. Looking at her mother-in-law, her rival, she noticed for the first time her sexual power. A little less tall than Arabella, she was more curvaceous. In their matching identical wedding dresses, Arabella was the more slinky and long-legged but Agatha had a classic hourglass figure and her breasts were even better than Arabella’s own. Arabella’s fresh, tanned, youthful beauty contrasted with Agatha’s frank, sensuous red-haired appeal. Agatha barely looked much older than Arabella despite their twenty year age difference.
Edward looked helplessly between the two strong-willed gorgeous women, unsure what to do. One part of him wanted to enjoy the luscious pleasures of Arabella’s willing, athletic body, one part wanted to know again the motherly delights of beylikdüzü escort Agatha’s enticing flesh. One part of his wanted to break free of his sexual thraldom to his mother, one part wanted to surrender to her forever.
“My dear, perhaps we should let our new husband decide” purred Agatha. That Arabella didn’t even retort that he wasn’t Agatha’s husband was itself a minor victory for the older woman. Agatha walked round behind Arabella, who felt a tug at her neckline and then the purr of a zip being undone, felt the air of the autumn evening on her flesh as the dress was drawn open, felt Agatha’s cool fingers slip it off her arms and her hand push her gently but firmly out of the silk dress as it fell to the floor. Then Agatha was standing in front of her, her back presented for the favour to be returned. Arabella accepted the challenge. Filled with anger at her perverse rival, she unclasped, unzipped, and stripped her. Then both ladies stood side by side, posing at their most enticing for the affections of the young man they loved.
Arabella stood in her stockings. Suspenders, heels, bra and panties, knowing how good she looked. She posed, one hand on her hip, one leg slightly cocked. She threw her head back, asked:
“Edward, what are you thinking? You married me today. This is our wedding night!”
“Our wedding night, my darling boy. Tonight your mother will be your bride!”
Agatha stood akimbo, fists on hips, legs wide apart. Arabella glanced at her rival, and had to acknowledge that the older woman was also stunning. A white-skinned redhead, with a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Agatha exuded sexual confidence. The lingerie she had chosen added to her wicked allure. A basque in white lace squeezed her tightly. Narrowing her slim waist further and exaggerating her deep cleavage. She too wore lace-topped white stockings and suspenders, and was made taller by stiletto heels. Unknown to Arabella, she had an added advantage. The lingerie was the exact same set that she had worn on the night of Edward’s twenty-first birthday, when she had first entered his room and seduced him. She knew the memories it would evoke in him.
Edward groaned in desire and indecision. Arabella saw the tell-tale tenting in his trousers that revealed his burgeoning erection. His cock was hard – but hard for her or for his own mother?
Arabella decided it was time to be more blatant. If Edward was aroused, she would inflame him further. She elegantly peeled off her bra. Her tanned, firm, 36C breasts with the erect nipples were revealed in all their glory. “Let him resist that!” she thought to herself. But Agatha merely smirked, still confident in her powers of seduction, and turned down the cups of her basque. Her glorious, massive breasts sprang free. Big, unconstrained, the nipples pink and hard. Sagging barely at all except from their own weight and heft. What size was she, Arabella wondered. 36DD? 38DD?
“Yes, dear Arabella, your breasts are good. Very good. But mine are bigger and better, Oh, and Edward knows how good. Don’t you, darling? You know what you like to do with Mummy’s breasts. You know how you like it when I order you to play with them, when I tell you to caress them, to suckle them. You want to do it again, don’t you?”
Arabella tried again to use her youth against her rival. She raised one knee high, then straightened her leg, using an arm around her supple strong thigh to stretch out, lifting her straight leg up to her shoulder.
“And can you do that? I think not, Not at your age!”
Agatha ruefully shrugged.
“Not quite. I could when I was as young as you. But . “
She bent over backwards, further and further, all the way, until she was supported on hands and feet, her thighs taut and parted towards Edward. She pushed herself off, came back to her feet.
“…I can still perform better than most woman half my age. Edward knows what positions I can reach, and which ones make him come hardest! And if he’s a very good boy, I will do all his favourite ones tonight! Take a look at me, Arabella! Accept the truth! Accept that I am your sexual superior in every way! I am the one he loves!”
The young wife had an idea.
“Edward, darling, I can see how your mother has always been the one in charge of you, But now you’re married. You’re free of her. And you have a wife who will let you be in charge. Do what you want. Obey you. Satisfy – “
She gracefully took a knee…
“your – “
She was on both knees now.
“every – “
She parted her thighs, arched her back to upthrust her pert breasts.
She posed slavishly, lips parted invitingly. Hoping that she could tempt him from his wicked mother’s dominating clutches.
It was a mistake.
Lady Agatha turned to address her.
“Do you really think Edward can resist me, now. Resist my sexual power over him? He loves it! I’ve moulded him, taught him. Conditioned him, if you like. His greatest sexual avcılar escort thrill is submission to Mummy. If I wanted, I could order him now to come to me and he would be unable to resist. Would you?”
“No, Mistress Mummy!” Edward replied helplessly, knowing that it was true, that even with a beautiful young wife ready and willing to make love to him he would do whatever his mother commanded and love every minute of it.
“But tonight, I do want him to choose. So, to make this a fair contest…”
Agatha knelt too. Adopted, almost mockingly, the same pose on her knees as Arabella.
“…tonight, my darling boy, I relinquish control to you. You are the bridegroom. Whichever of us you choose, they will submit utterly and obediently to you. You can fuck this gorgeous young floozy, or you can fuck your evil bitch of a mother. Choose, Edward! Choose your bride!”
Edward was torn. He hesitated, his face a mask of desire and confusion. At last, he stepped forward. To Arabella. She smiled up at him, overjoyed that he had chosen her. But then he spoke.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I – I just can’t not…it’s only for tonight, I promise…”
Then he turned away, unable to meet her gaze any more. Turned to Agatha.
“And you, Mummy – get on that bed! Now!”
Agatha beamed triumphantly, rose off her knees, made her way to the rose-strewn four poster bed and clambered on, stretching out looking over her shoulder at her son. A vision of sin in white lace.
Arabella stood too.
“All right! Fine! I’ll leave you two to your perversion!”
She turned to storm out. But Agatha rang a small bell at the bedside and at once two of her ladies’ maids appeared. They wore ridiculously exaggeratedly sexy uniforms, little more than black and white aprons with broad belts, white maids’ caps and stockings and high heels. They blocked the doorway. One of them spoke:
“No, Y’r Ladyship. Her Ladyship says y’r to stay and watch!”
Arabella started to struggle, but the girls were well chosen for their strength and she was unable to push past them.
The other girl spoke now:
“Will you stop struggling, Ladyship? Or must we bind you?” She produced a set of chains and black leather buckled cuffs from her belt.
Arabella was defeated. What could she do? Fight with the servants while her new husband committed incest? She relaxed, shrugged, and stretched out her arms. The maids buckled the shackles on, led her unresisting to the foot of the bed. They buckled her at wrists and ankles spread-eagled upright to the bedposts.
Agatha looked her in the eyes, smiling. Edward meanwhile was stripping off his clothes in a frenzy of lust, tripping over his trousers and clawing at his shirt, buttons popping. Once he was naked, he joined Agatha on the bed.
“My son, my husband – enjoy your bride!” Agatha cried. And Arabella watched as her husband began his wedding night.
Edward and his mother kissed like the lovers they were. A long, passionate French kiss as the older woman ran her hands through her son’s hair and he in turn caressed her body, the sounds of their kisses enhanced by passionate moans and groans from within their throats. From her position bound at the foot f the bed, Arabella could see Edward lower his face onto his mother’s mountainous tits and begin to lick, suckle, and nibble at the erect nipples. Agatha moaned in pleasure, caressing him as he enjoyed her breasts.
“I want you!” Edward growled.
“Then have me! My sonhusband, have your motherwife! Make me yours!” she replied.
Edward ripped her panties off and thrust inside her. She was wet, tight, eager for his young hard cock. They fucked hard, passionately. Agatha met his thrusts with her own, her internal muscles squeezing his cock. She moaned, gasped, cried out as her son – her unlawful husband now – made her orgasm.
“Oh yes! Oh yes! Yes! My son! My husband! Ooooh, yesssss!”
All the time, her eyes never left Arabella’s. Despite herself, the erotic debauchery in front of her was arousing the young wife. She watched wide-eyed as after their first fuck as – as what? Man and mother? Son and wife? – they parted, and Agatha raised Edward up, sank down and lowered her head to take his still hard penis into her mouth and suck him off. Arabella imagined being in her place. A husband’s hard dick in her mouth. Tasting her own arousal on it as she sucked. And Agatha proved a talented cocksucker. Edward was soon groaning, clenching his fists in the bedclothes at the almost intolerable ecstasy his mother’s mouth gave him. Like some porn star or sex goddess, her magnificent bare-breasted body showcased in her lingerie, Agatha looked radiantly beautiful and still elegant as she demeaned herself on her knees.
“Oh, Mummy, oh my motherwife, yes!” Edward cried out as he came uncontrollably, spurting his semen deep into his mother’s throat. She lasciviously swallowed then licked up every last drop from his still tingling penis.
“Am I a good little wifey?” she asked archly, more for Arabella’s benefit than Edward’s. “Yes! The best!” he replied instantly. Then looked guiltily at his real wife, tied stretched out as their unwilling witness.
“Well, your wifey has only just got started!” Agatha retorted, distracting him by dragging him down with her again onto the bed…
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