She was furious that he should do such a thing, but the shame was worse. He had humiliated her terribly, and she had almost left him over it.

She leaned back in the chair and let her tiny slip ride up over her thighs. She couldn't understand the terrible lusts men had. All of them, as they took in her luscious figure, her swelling tits under the soft-lace of the revealing clothes she wore, her slim waist, tight, round ass and long shapely legs, wanted to get her into bed. She tossed her long blonde hair back over her shoulders, got up and put her sandals on. In her white stockings, and flimsy slip, she walked into the bathroom and surveyed herself in the full length mirror. She was a beauty, that was obvious, and any man would want to have her as his wife. That was why it was wonderful to have met David.

He never made improper suggestions. He opened doors for her, and was always the most polite of men. Perhaps it was nearly time to marry again, and perhaps David would be the man of her dreams, her knight in shining armor, the man who would put her on the pedestal she deserved.

She ran her hands over her tits and down to her waist. Then further, to the soft warmth of her inner thighs. It was nice, the feeling she got when she did that. Not that she could be as disgusting as she had heard some women were and caress themselves between their legs, where their sweet little pussies were. The very thought made her tremble, and she hurriedly dropped her slip and went to the basin and gave her face a fast wash. That calmed her down, and gave her time to think.

David had been so nice about it all. "Take your time," he said. "You can come any weekend you like. You can ride if you like, and even if I'm away on business for a while the servants will take very good care of you. Just give me a call."