The Countess of Belgrave
By Adam Gray
The Countess of Belgrave was a weathered old hag. After the questionable and untimely death of her beloved husband, she became a recluse. Occasionally when she did bestow herself upon the world, it was only to create ruin and deprive others of simple pleasures. She was a prude and a solemn woman, always speaking out against joy and happiness, wishing to return the world in the dark-ages. Because she was no longer able to enjoy life, she felt as though no others should have the right either. Suffice it to say, nobody liked her.
When she did show her gnarled face, she had to spackle herself with more make-up then a theatre clown and more lipstick than a whore to pass her self off as the living. Her ragged shell was so decrepit that she had to wear a corset to heft up her corpulent sagging jugs and wear knickers two sizes too small to keep the waves of her thighs at bay.
It so happens that one spring her brother, Viscount Nordstram was to travel to Paris for several weeks and his wife Viscountess Brunella was already off touring the pissant farms of her father's Italian lands to the south. So, her only nephew, aged 15 years had nowhere to linger during this time. So, he was to be cared after by her during this period.
Now, she had not seen the dreaded child since he was four, but she remembered he was a spastic little bastard. His father was of good blood, of course. But the mother was a primitive. She was a Mediterranean, covered from head to toe in dark half-inch hair. Utterly disgusting, even by French standards, but for some reason her brother found this to be exotic and arousing. Needless to say, the Countess was not amused with her brother's tastes in women.
Soon, the day of his arrival came. She stuffed her draping meat bags and rancid undercarriage into what once may have been considered a fine silk gown and donned her ragged body in various adornments, then waddled down to meet him.
As she observed him exit from the carriage, she could see that he had indeed grown up quite a bit since his last visit. The young man's name was Esmond, named after his grandfather. He appeared to be a fine, strapping young man, endowed with all the best parts undoubtedly. For the first time in many years, the Countess began to feel a bit light in the head as blood hurriedly rushed to locations long forgotten in the lower realm of her body.
No sooner could the Countess rub her legs together, to soothe the itching in her twat that had not been felt in years, then did out from the carriage rush a large ball of fur. The Countess gasped as the burly creature rushed across the drive and into her home. The sound of glass breaking and items crashing to the floor could be heard.
Seeing the anger in the Countess's eyes, without so much as a hello, Esmond rushed into the house after the beast. His voice could be heard calling out, "Brumby!" With a disgusted look on her face, the Countess followed him inside. But despite the look on her face, the Countess was quite pleased now that his tender young ass would be seen walking the halls of her cobweb filled passages. But that hound would simply have to die.
The two had a silent dinner that evening, there was not much to say. Esmond was a budding young man full of passion and sport. And the Countess was an ancient stick in the mud. So, even though they shared the same home and blood, they rarely spoke. And when they did speak, the only thing she'd ask about was when he was leaving, and where his dreaded beast was hiding at. Despite the cold demeanor and the devil running through the Countess's mind, she made certain not to show any interest in Esmond. The only thing that drove away fiendish thoughts of ravaging her nephew in his sleep, was taking a measure of opium each night before rest.
On the second week of the nephew's stay, she decided to surprise him with a trip into town. She had not been there since the Count had died suddenly several years ago. Besides, she wanted to show off a bit and start gossip flying about her and her young escort. She decided to rouse him earlier than usual that day.
She walked to the top of stairs and to his door, which was the slightest bit ajar. As she was about the knock, she heard some strange noises from within the chambers, and chanced a look inside. The young man was standing nude facing the Eastern wall, with his throbbing manhood clenched in one fist and his large hairy marbles in the other. The Countess gasped and turned away. She began to rush off, but then stopped a few steps away and raising an eyebrow rushed back to the crack in the door with a smile. She stood there for several minutes watching the young man sinfully abuse himself while staring at a portrait of herself, from many years ago. With each forceful stroke of his hand, she found herself plunging her index and middle fingers deeper and deeper into her abyss, partially breaking a seal that had long been forgotten. After a minute of the continual punishment, the young man seized up and convulsed, exploding hot love magma onto her Persian Marble floor and 14th century tapestry given to her family by the King Henry V himself. She could hardly contain herself and burst herself into her pissed stained morning gown. The smell of dead fish tainted the air in the hall and a sort of icker, not quite come and not quite blood crawled down the side of her inner thigh and into her slipper. She took a deep breath and squished off back to her room to change.
Upon returning to Esmond's room, she found him already dressed and about to head out hunting with his hound. She ordered him to immediately change into his finest clothes, because they were going to town. He retorted, but her word was final and he found himself stuffed into more noble attire and on his way into town.
While in town, Esmond was introduced to only a few people, however, everyone stared the two of them down intently, as if they had seen a ghost. The Countess said little and did little shopping, but made Esmond follow her the entire way around the town twice. The only purchase the Countess made was some arsenic and a package raw meat.
After many hours, the two of them returned home. Upon arriving, Esmond could not find Brumby anywhere. Apparently in the rush to change and accompany the Countess into town, he had forgotten to tie Brumby up and now he had run off. Esmond spent the rest of the evening searching and calling for him. While the countess sat in her home in delight, yet upset that she had wasted money on the arsenic, which apparently she would no longer have need for.
Time seemed to fly and before they knew it, the final day had arrived. It was a dreadfully hot day and Esmond would be heading home on the morrow. Brumby, was still nowhere to be found and the Countess was more eager than ever to initiate an attack on the young man. Esmond told the Countess he would be going into town and searching the grounds for Brumby one last time, but that he would be home by nightfall. The Countess tried to dissuade him, but he insisted. So, she allowed him to leave, if he would open the windows on the first floor before he left. He agreed.
After the young man had left, the Countess stripped down to her bear ass and went into her quarters to have a rest. She took a healthy dose of opium to ease her mind and twat. She pulled her eye mask down and before long; she was in a daze and drifting off to slumber.
It is uncertain how much time passed, but sometime after lying down, the Countess was waked by the sound of someone pushing open her bedroom door. Forgetting she was totally nude, she called out, "Esmond?" But there was no reply. She turned her head to the side and decided it was just the wind. But, a moment later, she felt something that she had never felt before. She felt a warm tongue run up the length of her inner thigh, stopping just short of her love canal. She gasped and said, "Oh Esmond, I knew you felt it to." With her blinder still on, she writhed around on the bed, while being pleasured by oral attention. She rose her legs straight up into the air and shouted, "Take me!" And a moment later she felt and large warm and hairy cock slide into her crusted swollen orifice. She lost her breath as the pulsating member pierced her deeper then she ever had been before. She could feel his long Mediterranean hair rubbing against her as he continued to ravishly pound life back into her tired worn out old libido. She cried out in sheer bliss as she felt the warm flow of sex juice sprayed far up into her innards. But he didn't stop there! She felt him crawl up the bed over top of her, while she lie there quivering with blithe. Then without warning, he unleashed a flood of piping hot piss onto her face, neck and bosom. While the gush continued, she opened her mouth to be sure to catch some of his compliment for a job well done. Then just as quickly as he had entered the room he hopped off the bed and ran off.
The countess sat up in the bed, running her middle finger up her groove and then spreading some of the dripping sauce across her lower lip. She removed her mask and cried out, "Esmond, come back! There is no need to be ashamed!" She pulled on her moth eaten overcoat and headed down the stairs into the living quarters. She was calling for Esmond the entire time. She approached the main door to the home to see if he had run outside, and the door opened before she got there, it was Esmond!
She said, "Oh Esmond, you have been a very naughty young man. We must never tell anyone about this."
Esmond looked at her in confusion, "My Lady?"
She continued, "If anyone were to know, we'd be ruined. What came over you? I thought you were going into town?"
Esmond looks at her and says, "Countess, I'm not sure what you mean. I was in town all day, looking for Brumby. He was no where to be found, but as soon as I rode up the drive, I saw him crawl out of your lower floor window and he ran down the drive to greet me!"
The Countess raises and brow, looks back over her shoulder, then back to Esmond and says in a questioning voice, "So it was not you that was up in my chamber a few moments ago?"
Esmond Responds, "No Countess, it was not I. The only other in your home besides you it appears, was Brumby!"
The Countess looks down at the wretched creature, and it looks up at her and licks it chops. A look of pure and utter disgust washes over her face as she blacks out and falls onto the floor.
Esmond looks down to Brumby and says, "Boy, what have you broken this time???"
The End