My husband is the perfect British gentleman, at least in public.

He’s outrageously charming and comes across as possibly too polite to have sex. With dark hair and bright blue eyes, he looks a lot like Richard Armitage. With a voice made to seduce, he certainly sounds like him. When he finally asked me out, I discovered that the prim and proper facade conceals one of the filthiest humans I’ve ever encountered.

At dinner on that first date, he was the consummate gentleman: pulling out my chair, opening doors, standing when I came back to the table from the bathroom. His manners were impeccable. I felt a little bad at how wildly attracted to him I was. Just watching him roll his sleeves up to expose his muscled forearms had me rubbing my thighs together in frustration. I wanted to see what would happen if he broke the rules just once and wondered if I could be the woman to push him over the edge.

I tried rubbing his leg with my foot under the table, but he apologized for being in my space and moved back. I attempted innuendo after innuendo, but he never took the bait to join me in the gutter. I was blatantly checking him out and he didn’t even notice.

By the end of the night, I had bascally given up. There was no cracking him. I was unsurprised when he opened the passenger door and escorted me up the path to my house. I was mentally pondering the question of whether he would politely kiss me on the cheek or chastely on the lips when he took me by the shoulders and pushed me forcefully up against the door. With his whole body pressed against mine, I could feel that he was not as unaffected by the evening as I had thought. He was deliciously hard.

He leaned in and kissed me hard, erotically sliding his tongue against mine, domineering and decidedly impolite. I was stunned.

“May I come in?” he asked. But it wasn’t really a question.

I fumbled with my keys until I got the door open. He kissed me again before saying, “I’d like to blindfold you now. May I do that?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak coherently. He was my every fantasy come to life.

He led me over to the couch, and I expected to sit down, but instead he bent me over the wide arm. He took his tie off and gently slid it over my eyes, knotting it behind my head. The last thing I saw before he deprived me of sight was the wicked gleam in his gorgeous blue eyes that I had been trying to instigate all night.

How had I ended up bent over and blindfolded that quickly? I begged the gods that he would keep moving that fast because I was painfully aroused.

I heard the rustle of clothes followed by a zipper. I was about ready to beg.

“I have a bit of an oral fixation, Miss Sanford. By that I mean I derive intense pleasure from using my tongue, both to please you and to tell you what I’m doing. Would you like to know what I’m going to do, Miss Sanford?”

I nodded again.

“I’m going to flip that tight little skirt up over your plump arse to find out whether you’re wearing any panties. I think you’re a naughty girl and I suspect that not only will I find that you’ve forgone proper undergarments this evening, but that your pussy is already slick and ready for me.”

“He took his tie off and gently slid it over my eyes, knotting it behind my head.”

My cheeks were burning with mortification, but it was nothing compared to the heat I could feel between my legs. I wondered if I could grind my clit against the couch without him noticing. The sound of his perfect British accent and that deep voice articulating such filthy words was its own kind of foreplay.

He ran his hands down my thighs and then slid them back up, pushing my skirt over my ass. He was right. I hadn’t worn any panties. I shivered with arousal, knowing that my bare pussy and ass were totally exposed.

I could feel his breath against my skin as his thumbs moved between my ass cheeks and spread my pussy lips.

“May I lick this gorgeous cunt and arse? I desperately need to taste you.”

I nodded again, but this time I couldn’t hold back a moan.

His warm, wet tongue instantly found my clit, parting my folds and delving down to flick back and forth against it. For long, torturously pleasurable moments, he worked my bud with his tongue like no other man ever had. I didn’t think I could come from oral, but found my hips slamming against the couch as I rode out my first orgasm.

No sooner had I stopped shaking from the first before he redoubled his efforts, moving his tongue harder and faster against me. He pressed a thumb into my pussy and I thought I was going to die from pleasure as he ground it against my g-spot in time to his strokes against my clit. I came again, and I didn’t think I could take any more, but he just kept going.

He traced his wet thumb down from my pussy and took up stroking my clit with it in perfect tiny circles. He seemed to know my body better than I did.

I jerked when I felt his tongue against my asshole. No one had ever touched me there. It felt wrong and dirty and exciting and sinfully erotic all at once. His slick licking turned to gentle probing, parting my most secret place with his tongue. As I felt him slide inside just a little, I came again, now mindless with pleasure.

He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, I could feel his cock against my thigh. He had put on a condom. Thank the gods; he was finally going to fuck me!

“It felt wrong and dirty and exciting and sinfully erotic all at once.”

“Now I know how you taste, I have to know how it feels to slide deep inside that delicious pussy. I’m going to fuck you now.”

I wanted him to just ram it inside me, but like everything he did, he tortured me by working it in slowly, using little strokes to fuck me deeper and deeper. Once he was all the way in, he fucked me as hard as I was craving, leaning over to rub my clit with one hand.

“I’m going to lick your taste off my thumb now, and then I’m going to push it inside that tight virgin ass. I want to feel you come with it in there. If you’re a good girl, maybe next time I’ll let you have my cock in there.”

I barely lasted long enough to feel something penetrate my ass for the first time before another orgasm rocked through me. I’d lost track of how many times I had come by the time he finally finished as well.

He was certainly a gentleman in that regard but was not as straight laced as I had imagined.