The Wet Nurse

"Now move forward," he murmured. When she obeyed, he washed her back, taking his time.

"Now stand up," came the next command. Annie stood in the tub; Edwin, sitting on its edge, took more soap into his hands and began to bathe her calves and thighs. Soon he was at her sex. He drew his hands across the dense bush covering her pubic mound, then slid one hand between her thighs.

Edwin gently but firmly pressed up into her sex until he was touching the woman's outer labia; he moved his wet soapy hand slowly back and forth, causing Annie to gasp in shock and pleasure. Now came the heady scent of her sex mixed with that of the soap. Under ordinary circumstances she would have been mortified at the thought of a man aware of the aroma of this most intimate part of her body. But this was not an ordinary time.

Edwin at last removed his hand and turned on warm water, collecting it in a small pail and pouring it over the woman, rinsing her clean. After he had finished he stepped over and took a towel, holding it out in anticipation.

Annie got out of the tub and stood as Edwin dried her off. Not a word was spoken. But for the deep blush on their faces, one might have thought that a banker bathing and then drying his young maidservant was the most ordinary of household chores. Determined to render full service, he then held out her bloomers and watched as she put them on. The same was repeated with her shift and gown.

The experience of seeing and caressing the woman's soft body had filled Edwin's senses, left him nearly speechless. He took her in his arms, again radiating a mixture of warm affection and lust. "I'll see you later tonight," he whispered. With a kiss on her cheek and then her lips, he walked out of the room.

Annie breast-fed Edwin Junior and then went to bed. She slept fitfully, and with something like relief finally heard the baby's soft cries of hunger just after two in the morning. Within moments she had drawn the infant to her breast, and shortly after saw Edwin appear at the door. She immediately pulled down her shift and once more fed from her body both father and son.

When the infant was sated and asleep again, she turned off the gaslight and walked to her room. She turned to see the outline of Edwin in the door. Now the man and woman came together in a passionate embrace. Looking up into his face, Annie whispered, "I'm yours sir. Do with me as ye please!"

Edwin did so. Off came the gown, down came the bloomers and up over her shoulders went the shift. Motioning for her to get into bed, he removed his robe and nightgown and joined her. Immediately he mounted and entered her. There was no need for foreplay or arousal. That had been going on for hours, through the bath and the suckling at her breast. Now the man and woman only sought relief from the fire raging within them.

Edwin gasped in astonishment as he felt his manhood sink to the hilt in Annie's warm welcoming sheath. With a feeling of exhilaration he knew that here was a woman with whom a man could take his full measure of satisfaction.

He recalled that the only times Helena seemed to enjoy sex was on their wedding night, and occasionally on the first night of a vacation. But at home, she expected Edwin to maintain the same decorum when he mounted her as at all other times. Their intercourse was quick and with no unnecessary heat or emotion. Helena had seen her role in satisfying Edwin's carnal needs as a duty, not a pleasure.

But in Annie's soft warm body he could fully satiate himself, could drink his sexual fill and give the same in return. Covering her face with kisses, he murmured "Oh, you feel divine, Annie! This is truly heaven!"

"Thank ye, sir," he heard the woman whisper. Her hips moved up to welcome his manhood, and with slowly increasing speed their bodies moved in rhythm.

For Annie too this was a night of firsts. Her husband Liam, when he mounted her, had always reeked of whisky and sour body sweat. But this man now astride her was clean, with a faint scent of cologne. She realized that instead of using her as no more than a receptacle for his semen, that Edwin was in fact not just aware but even considerate of her needs. His gentle kisses and matching rhythm with her proved it.

Annie's body began to feel more and more fiery, and a tingling sensation arose and swept over her. Expecting that it might soon abate, it instead became overpowering to the point where she scarcely knew what she was doing. Instead of easing the burning she had felt, the movement of their bodies together raised her to heights of ecstasy that she had never known before.

As if from far away she heard Edwin saying "Oh yes, oh yes!" and now she felt hot semen surging into her. This brought Annie to yet another level where an astonishing bolt of electricity raced through her, down to her toes. She clasped the man in an iron grip, unaware that she was crying Oh! Ooh! Ooohh!

Afterwards, for long minutes the two lay in darkness, gasping for breath. Edwin gave Annie an affectionate kiss on her cheek, but then heard a quiet sob from the woman.

"Annie? Are you all right?"

"Oh sir, sir! I never knowed a man could make a woman feel like that. I ain't never felt nothin' like it before. Lord, it truly was heaven!"

"I didn't hurt you, did I love?" The last word escaped his lips without thinking, but once spoken seemed right.

"Oh, no sir! You're the sweetest and gentlest man I've ever knowed! I'm sorry I'm cryin', sir, but it's 'cause I'm so happy!"

Now the man and woman lay together in silence, wanting only the feel of the other's body. And some time later when Edwin's kisses became more passionate, Annie's body began to radiate heat once again.

Annie for the first time without fear or hesitation wanted a man in her; she could scarcely wait. And Edwin knew that he would please this woman as only a man can. And that in return her delicious sex would nourish him, would give him a sense of contentment that he had not known since he was an infant.

CHAPTER 3

The day was dull and lifeless. Summer had ended, but autumn's color was still weeks away. Edwin sat in the library of his parent's grand home near Washington Square, sharing a bottle of claret.

"Have you found a new cook?" his mother asked.

"Yes, a Mrs. Carlton. She has been very capable so far. The woman does wonders with a pork roast."

Edwin's father spoke. He was in his early fifties, with thinning brown hair and a full beard. "Son, when Mrs. Hofmann gave notice, she paid us a visit. She told us that she could no longer work in a household where indecent behavior was going on between an unmarried man and woman. The woman, worse still, being a maidservant."

Edwin stared into his claret but said nothing.

"Well," Elliott Stearns continued in his baritone voice, "is there any truth to this?"

Still examining the claret, Edwin said, "Mrs. Hofmann was always a truthful woman. I'm sure she did not make anything up or exaggerate."

His mother Clara sighed. "Then you must let Annie Clarke go at once, Edwin! Oh how could you, with little Edwin's wet nurse! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Edwin made to speak, but was interrupted by his father. "Son, we know the grief you suffered when you lost Helena. We all did. You being a young man, it's only natural to ... to take comfort in the arms of another woman. But surely you see what a position this places you, and for that matter, your whole family in. It cannot go on."

Edwin stood and addressed his parents in a surprisingly calm manner. "The months that I have, as you say, taken comfort with Annie Clarke have been the happiest of my life. I love the woman. I will take her as my wife if she will have me. I can no more let her go than I could give up my own son!"

The room was deathly silent for long seconds. "You can't possibly be serious!" his mother then gasped. "Surely my boy, you don't propose to dress this .. this Irish peasant in a silk gown and present her to New York society? Good lord, the humiliation we would suffer!"

Again Edwin's father spoke. "Your mother is right, Edwin." Motioning to their dining hall, he went on. "why, you've sat at our table with Mayor Croker and his wife, and the most cultured people in this city. You're a graduate of Yale, you love poetry and the theater. And this woman, this Annie, is she even literate? What can she offer you besides .. well, besides physical pleasure?"

Edwin rose and went to the window, looking out at the Stearns rose garden. "I don't quite understand it myself. I loved Helena; I think about her and mourn her passing every day. But Annie touches some part of me that I never knew existed." Draining his wine, he said almost to himself, "I think it is a rare man that finds a wife who is a perfect match; who satisfies him in every way. Most of us are happy with something less. I suppose it's the same with women too."

Then he turned to face his parents again. "But for Annie Clarke I will give up everything. My career, New York society, even my home. Nothing matters to me except to be with my son and this woman. Nothing."

Elliott Stearns had spent a lifetime as a businessman. He could judge from a man's face what his intentions and actions might be. Had Edwin been flustered, or nervous and edgy, he would have known that Edwin's affair was a passing dalliance. But in Edwin's firm jaw, in his skin drawn tightly over his cheeks, Elliott Stearns saw a man who had made up his mind; whose steel resolve could never be altered.

"Father!" Clara cried, "Speak to your son! This is madness! Tell him what he must do!"

A moment passed in silence as Elliott filled a briar pipe and lit it. He rose and spoke in his baritone voice: the family patriarch delivering a verdict of which there could be no appeal.

"My boy, I've watched you go to school, take on a career and a wife. But I've often felt that you were simply going through life as your family and society expected you. I've seldom seen signs of any great enjoyment or passion in you. Today I see that, for perhaps the first time ever." He paused and took a puff from the briar. "But it may be best to quit New York. If you do, where will you go?"

"I've always loved Oakdale. I thought we might live there."

"And do what?" cried his mother, now in tears, "live on family charity? Dear lord Edwin, you'll be the death of me! Oh my heart! Someone please tell me this isn't happening!"

Edwin looked evenly at his father; two men discussing a deal. "The land around Oakdale has some of the best apple orchards in New York. I loved working in them as a boy. Several could be had at a reasonable price."

Clara Stearns continued to wail. "Oh, now he wants to marry a peasant and become a farmer! Could it be any worse!"

"Now Mother," Elliott Stearns turned to her, a trace of a smile on his lips, "our grandfathers were farmers, and well-respected men." He would never tell Clara that he was proud that regardless of his behavior, Edwin had shown spine and gumption. And proud that apron strings were being severed. "Tell me how I can help," he said in a business-like voice.

CHAPTER 4

Annie Clarke Stearns sat on the bed, resting against two pillows. Beyond the open bedroom window was darkness and the rich aroma of autumn leaves. The only sound was crickets that would soon fall silent as winter came. The woman was wearing a pale green cotton gown, open to her waist. At her left breast suckled an infant; Annie gently caressed its soft red curls.

Edwin walked into the bedroom, wearing his robe. He removed it and, hanging it in the closet, got into bed in his nightgown.

"Well?" Annie smiled.

"Five thousand bushels of McIntosh," he said tiredly, "and two thousand of Jonathans. The last of them loaded and sent on their way today."

"Edwin, that's brilliant! Our best harvest ever!"

"Yes. Now I'll talk to old man Willis about his four acres that we can add if he'll agree to my price." After a pause he went on, "Ironic, isn't it? They'll remember this year, 1896, because of another panic on Wall Street. And no one will recall what a bumper crop of apples it brought."

He glanced down to the babe and caressed her head. "How's little Emma?"

"Like all the Stearns, I reckon. She loves me tit, 'n can't get enough of it." Seeing the look on her husband's face, she shook her head wryly and let the gown fall from her shoulders, offering her other breast to Edwin.

He nestled down into the bed and began to lick the mother's milk that was already flowing down his wife's bosom. Then he took the nipple, thinking that now, three years older and with her own child, Annie's flow of milk was stronger than ever, its flavor somehow richer and sweeter as well. He sucked eagerly; the warm fluid was both aphrodisiac and drug. At the first taste of it all worries melted away. He felt, if only for a while, the complete bliss of an infant.

With an absolute sense of contentment as his wife suckled him, Edwin was hardly aware of the faint rumbles of thunder in the western sky. Now Annie was caressing his head; after a moment she said, "You never get tired of it, do ye?"

He paused to kiss her full globes, murmuring, "No, I can't get enough of you, Mrs. Stearns. Not any of you." As if to emphasize the point, his hand went exploring under her gown, down to her thighs and her warm sex where already the juices were beginning to seep.

"Don't get too frisky," she whispered. "This thunder'll probably wake little Eddy. 'N ye know where he'll want to be."

As if on cue, they heard the first calls of "Mama! Da-da!" from the next room. By the time Edwin had brought his son to their bed, Annie had finished nursing Emma and returned the child to its crib near the window.

Edwin Junior, his black hair and dark eyes such a contrast to his half-sister, snuggled up to Annie. "Want t' sleep here tonight," he murmured.

"You can, son," said Annie. Turning to Edwin, she whispered, "We can put him back in his bed fer Emma's two o'clock feedin', I guess." After a pause she said, "If ye wake up I'll feed ye both."

"And then?" he said with a wicked grin.

"Yes," she smiled in anticipation, "that too, Mr. Stearns. That too."

To be Continued as What Lips My Lips Have Kissed (First Time)