Seven miles down the winding country road, Sir David Cassen was enjoying the company of his little family. He had arrived from London that morning, and was indulging in a day at home before taking up other business. He would have to see Finch. Things were beginning to come to a head at court, and he would need another pair of ears. Finch was cunning and devoted, and would prove most useful.

That, however, could wait till the morrow. His wife had been unable to accompany him the last time he left home, and it had been nearly two months since they were together. Although the court of Elizabeth had more than enough beautiful women, ready and eager to have their warm, juicy holes stuffed, Sir David had never found any woman quite as fulfilling as his wife. Only she could leave him with that completely drained, exhausted feeling that came after having been literally fucked to a standstill.

There were other pleasures associated with being at home. His lovely little seven year old daughter was, next to his wife, his greatest delight. Many would hardly have approved of the way in which he had raised her, but then, what went on in his own home was not a subject he discussed with outsiders. From the time she was a toddler, Karen had been invited into her parents' bed and allowed to fondle and caress their bodies as she liked. Her nuzzling and playing was most arousing, and its very innocence and inexpertese made it all that much more tantalizing. Many a time after an hour's romp, she had snuggled up beside then, while Sir David gave his wife a thorough and passionate fucking.

The family had just enjoyed a light supper, and Sir David was seated at his desk in the main salon, writing one of his carefully worded reports. A fire burned cheerfully in the grate, and his wife sat on a low settee across the room, reading a novel.

He glanced up from his work. God, she was beautiful. Not yet twenty-five, her figure was slight as a girl, but with the full, rich lushness of a woman. Her heavy auburn hair fell over one shoulder in a thick mass of ringlets. How many times had he buried his strong fingers in that hair while he rode her from behind, pulling her head back and making her rear and pitch against him.