Swagger Inn (The Snug - extended)

[SisterHelenoftheEternalCatchUp]

For them that wants it, since the old snug is nearing the end of its life.
Come in, sit by the fire and relax with a Fuzzy Tom (or whatever drink grabs your fancy) and indluge in some drivel about which Musketeer is the FAFest.

If you're lucky, a literary wench might tell you a story.

(PS - No doilies allowed)

This thread is not be replacing The Tavern.
It's not a thread number
It's rumbling-in-the-background for anything that people don't want to put in the Tavern.

Who is coming up to help her out of her dress ? And WHEN?

It would need to be someone experienced in such matters

“Maybe you could stay a little longer, a week is such a short visit after all” Lady Isabelle asked Jeanne, her eyebrows knitted together. Behind her Porthos tensed and shifted a little.
“No, thank you.” Jeanne replied. “I think we should leave as planned, we don’t want to miss the boat.”
Lady Isabelle nodded
“Very well. Now, bid your protectors farewell for a while, I have planned a full day for you both before you leave.” Jeanne looked away politely as Lady Eliza’s eyes filled with tears and watched the Musketeers leave the room having bowed politely.

Porthos and Aramis were relaxing on the grass looking up at the blue sky and birds were singing, Aramis was happy and looking forward to spending some time with Jeanne later on. Sighing happily he lay back and closed his eyes, chewing on a long piece of grass.
Porthos looked at him and shook his head.
“She won’t be in her own room anymore you know? She’ll be with Lady Eliza.” Aramis paused, his smile fading a little. Porthos chuckled. Aramis was so obvious sometimes. Aramis frowned a little, thinking he had better take advantage of a bed whilst he could, then smirked.
“For fuck’s sake Aramis. Just… I like her. Be kind to her yeah?” Porthos grouched. D’Artagnan sniggered and Aramis flashed him a smile, promising Porthos that he intended to be very kind to her as soon as they got back to the inn. Porthos shook his head in exasperation, but couldn’t help smiling.
Jeanne was finally released after an exciting afternoon embroidering and walking around the big house looking at paintings, one of which was a portrait of her mother as a child with her family. Lady Isabelle told her it was the only one left as the others had been destroyed when Jeanne’s mother married her father. It hadn’t really occurred to Jeanne what her mother might have given up, but looking at the way Eliza acted with her family and the way she barely knew her father made Jeanne suspect that she had had the better life in many ways.
At last, Lady Isabelle bade her good night, keen to spend the last evening alone with her daughter – not even managing to disapprove when Jeanne left with Aramis for the Inn.
As soon as they got to the Inn, Porthos went straight up to their rooms to dump his jacket while Aramis ordered the food and wine.
He went down the stairs and saw Jeanne had joined them rather than having her meal in her room alone. Judging by the glances they threw towards each other and the blushes, Aramis had made his intentions clear to her. Suppressing a snort he thought that knowing Aramis he’d already found a way under her dress. Making a show of sitting directly opposite them, he looked pointedly at his friend and raised an eyebrow, shaking his head with a grin at Aramis’ slightly embarrassed shrug. But Porthos was feeling happier than he had been and so let it go. They were leaving in the morning and although the journey to Dover would take a long time thanks to the carriage taking Jeanne and Lady Eliza, once in Calais he’d be on his way to Norah.

sf, now you're teasing both us & Aramis by getting Porthos to play gooseberry

Ah well, it builds up the tension nicely, I Aramis will be gagging for it by the time he gets her on her own.

Excellent installment SF. Building up very nicely. I like that Porthos is a bit eye-rolling about Aramis. Very true to the S1 ep 1/2 stuff. I can visualise it all very well.

Now come the fuck on with the naughty bits

----
He walked slowly up the stairs, shaking his head in mingled amusement and irritation at Aramis' innocent face when he'd suggested they stay on another day to rest the horses. As if any of them were fooled as to his real motivation. Lord knew what Kate would think.

He closed the door quietly behind him, the dog's tail beating its customary tattoo on the floor. Kate was burrowed beneath the sheets, hair tousled on the pillow. She muttered a sleepy query as he slid into the bed, curled himself around her and grinned - silk again. He brushed her hair out of the way with a practised hand and gently kissed his way down her neck, resting his hand on her thigh.

She turned her head, brushing his beard against her cheek and kissed him. "Insatiable?"

He grinned "Of course - I told you what you do to my self-control."

Her answering smile was sleepy "Novelty factor, don't worry, you'll tire of me soon enough."

He shuddered as her tongue flicked against his lips, felt his body responding to her invitation "Unlikely" he muttered "not as long as you're wearing silk and behaving like that..." she turned over in her arms, dragging the material against his skin and stretched out along his body - pressed against him. Then grinned and burrowed under the sheets again.

A curse escaped him as he felt her tongue trail from base to tip before she closed her lips around him. "Kate..." His voice was a strangled gasp as he wove his fingers through her hair. "Hmmm?" her answer was somewhat muffled, with a definite note of amusement before she reappeared above the sheets. "Sorry - can't actually breathe down there..."

"Oh, well I'm sure I can be of assistance with that?" He pushed the sheets away and gave her a hopeful smile. She raised her eyebrows. "Just trying to be helpful..?"

She smiled, shaking her head, and kissed him. Then gasped as his hands began caressing her body through the silk and his lips moved to her neck. He smiled to himself as he felt her body shuddering at his touch, the way her breath caught as his mouth moved lower. A whimper escaped her as his thumb brushed across her lips and he slid her skirt up, the smooth silk emphasising the roughness of his beard brushing against the skin of her inner thighs.

"Christ, Athos..." He grinned as she squirmed against him, her hand gripping a fistful of the sheets as his lips moved upwards, tongue teasing and teeth gently nipping. He reached a hand upwards, fingers circling and teasing through the silk, felt her heart racing as his lips finally reached their destination and he began to suck and lick - felt an answering shudder from her with every flick of his tongue, her hips tilting as her back arched against him, breath becoming increasingly shaky as the tension built until she finally pushed sharply against him, whole body wracked by spasms. He lay back down beside her, pulling her close as her breathing and heart rated slowly steadied.

She tilted her head up and kissed him, smiling as she ran her fingernails down his side. "Now, where was I?" She kissed him again, slowly, deliberately , biting gently on his lip then gradually moved lower as he lay back, relishing the feel of her lips on his skin, alternately nipping and brushing against him, tracing scars and contours as she worked her way down his body. He flinched slightly as her nails dragged across his side and she looked up, puzzled.

"I wasn't paying attention - D'Artagnan landed a hit on my ribs."

She smiled "Should I kiss it better?"

"In all honesty I'd rather you didn't. Of course, you could find other ways to distract me from the pain...?" His smile was lopsided as she grinned up at him, then made him catch his breath as she dropped her lips back down, tracing circles with her tongue as she teased her way down the line of hair from his chest to his stomach. She blew gently against his skin, watching how he quivered at her touch before finally, to his relief, taking him into her mouth, sucking, licking, swirling her tongue around as her fingers teased lower still - cupping, stoking, nails dragging against his skin.

He came with a shudder and groan, back arching slightly, fingers clenched in her hair and then relaxed back on the bed - pulling her up into his arms with a satisfied sigh and a indecipherable mumbled comment. She lay nestled against him for a few moments then lifted her head as half a snore escaped him. She kissed him gently but got no response and sighed to herself, then propped her chin on her hand and watched him sleeping by candle light - eyelashes (impossibly long) curled against his cheek, fringe flopping across his face (she brushed it away), the puckered skin surrounding the scar on his shoulder (obviously not Aramis' stitches), his hand resting on her thigh - long fingers draped over her skin. What she had done to deserve this she had no idea, but it was enough to make her reconsider her position on religion and say a small prayer of thanks. She reached down and pulled up the sheets, covering them both as she settled down in his arms, his breath warm against her skin.

Oh Nonny.

Brava!!

Absolutely wonderful. Entirely my sort of thing. Especially the beard/silk/thighs bit. Ooof.

I would relish an opportunity to reenact this scene.

LOVE IT. Thank you .

Ooooh nonny verrrrry ggoooooood. Thank you

Any chance of some Northos? Been a while now, they must be getting desperate.

< at the price>

Very nice nonny

Porthos woke with a shout and sat up suddenly, sweating and shaky. D’Artagnan backed away quickly to avoid the knife Porthos wielded. His focus returning, he lowered it and apologised. Rubbing his hand through his hair and over his face he got up and helped himself to some of the wine Athos had left on the drawers in their room.
“By all means, help yourself” came Athos’ wry voice from where he sat up in bed. Porthos raised his glass to him and drank it down in one, poured another and sat back on his bed.
“Sorry I woke you. “He grimaced. D’Artagnan and Athos shrugged and waited. “I need to get back to her”
The two glanced at each other. Porthos shook his head
“I know, I know.” finishing the wine he put it on the floor and lay back down.
A minute or so passed before he raised his head again.
“Where the fuck is Aramis?” The three exchanged looks and he rolled his eyes before dropping his head down on the pillow in frustration and closing them.

Jeanne lay back, languid and flushed as she watched Aramis walk to her dressing table and pour a glass of wine. In the flickering candlelight she could see how his muscles worked as he moved, noting the scars on his back, that earlier she had felt with her fingertips as they had fucked. He turned, taking a long swallow, his eyes fixed on her and smiled as he approached her again. Sitting on the bed, massaging her thigh, he offered her the wine, which she took with a smile that he could see was tinged with shyness again. He reached out to trail a finger over her jawline and watched as she licked her lips after swallowing the wine. He felt his blood pump again and looked steadily at her, making her blush. He laughed, leaning over to kiss her gently, first on the mouth, then her cheek. Slowly moving her head round with his mouth he kissed his way to just by her earlobe, where his beard and lips caused her to gasp and giggle.
“You’re blushing again” he teased, gazing at her wanting to feel her against him again. She rolled her eyes and shoved him away playfully and drank the wine still in her hand.
“Finished?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Then, leaning over her, eyes so close to his she could see his individual eyelashes he put the glass on the table by the bed. He turned his head slightly, a hand on the pillow next to her, trapping her on the bed and smiled at her sharp intake of breath.
He kissed and swirled his tongue down her neck until he reached a spot just by her collar bone that he had learnt caused her to melt in his arms and again she pulled him up to kiss her, running her hands through his hair and grabbing two handfuls of it, pulling him in closer.
Giving up he lay against her, his weight pressing her further into the pillows as he played with her mouth with his.
“Shall I do it again?” He murmured against her ear, before trailing his tongue, lips and teeth downwards, pausing briefly at the sensitive part of her neck.
The memory of his mouth against her thighs, his beard both tickling and scratching as he made his way upwards caused her to swallow hard and nod mutely. He lifted his head to look at her properly, a wicked grin on his face as he hovered over her.
“Then you should ask nicely.” He watched her mouth as she grinned, eyes focussed on his as they grew darker whilst his cock stiffened against her thigh again. She reached down, her hand trailing down his back, over his arse and then round, cupping him, squeezing and stroking.
Aramis closed his eyes with pleasure and groaned, before laughing.
“Ah I see.” He kissed her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he gasped at what her fingers were doing to his cock. Jeanne pushed him over, and sat over him smiling and carried on stroking and squeezing gently and teasingly. He was fully hard now and his eyes were becoming less focussed as they roamed over her body. She carefully sat over his cock, his hands on her thighs and hips squeezed her tight in anticipation and then satisfaction as she guided it into her, both smiling and sighing as she did. He teased a nipple with a hand and began stroking her clit with the other as they moved their hips, tentatively at first but with more enthusiasm as the desire and passion began to build again. She could see he was close already, which turned her on more, so reaching round behind her she resumed stroking and squeezing him. His head back and eyes shut, he thrust into her harder now that his own desire had grown and was about to erupt.
With a shudder and a groan he came, grinding his hips deep into her, his hands clenched around her hips. Jeanne leant forward and kissed his neck, copying what he did to such great effect to her. She licked at the sweat that made his skin slick and he shuddered with pleasure.
He opened his eyes and staring at her, smirking a little rolled her over again and between licks and kisses told her it was her turn. Her pupils dilated and she nodded, breath coming short and fast.
He started with her neck again, trailing his hands down to her breasts, squeezing and stroking her, teasing her nipples before allowing his mouth to do the same, his tongue licking and circling as his hands carried on downwards.
She wriggled as he tickled her stomach and gasped as his fingers, stroking their way lower still, reached their goal and echoing his tongue began stroking and circling.
She gripped the bedsheets and squirmed with pleasure as his mouth began the journey downwards, before joining his fingers just as he inserted them in her, his tongue circling as his fingers had been. He licked her, tasting himself, and buried his tongue deep inside; he always liked the taste of himself and liked to fuck women with his tongue after coming inside them as he tried to devour every last morsel.
Jeanne bucked her hips and held his hair in both hands at the intense pleasure his lips and tongue were giving her, Aramis glanced up and saw her lying in complete abandonment and felt the tug of desire again. In a swift fluid motion he slid up her body and kissed her again, his skin pressed into hers as he lay along the length of her body
“See how good we taste together” he whispered between kisses, squeezing a nipple so that she gasped and pulled him to her again, after another deep kiss he grinned and slid his way back down, relishing the way she pushed herself against him and groaned aloud as his mouth and tongue resumed their onslaught.
Wave upon wave of lust engulfed her as he reached up to stroke her breasts and she finally arched her back, clutching at him and digging her nails into his scalp as she came. He sucked at her until the last tremors left her body, and was breathing heavily again, cock hard and ready once more. Briefly he wondered what the English put in their wine, then kissed his way up her body, tenderly this time until he reached her mouth. Gazing at it and then into her deep blue eyes, he slid into her, unable to resist closing his eyes briefly as he entered her, but snapping them open as she let out a small sigh of pleasure. Not taking his eyes of her, he started to move, slowly, leisurely. She sighed again and bit her lower lip as he took her, slowly but surely and they fucked until they both collapsed, utterly exhausted and slept.

Jesus wept.

I'm virtually dribbling over the keyboard here.

AND I had a needle-across-record moment in the middle of it. So obvs I'll need a re-read.

SF, you're missing your calling you know.

JFC, are you trying to kill me sf?

I'm not sure I have a coherent word to say

er... my tea may be burning on the hob. I ought to go check.

anyone?
And what happened to that air blade...?
.
.
.

Oh I wrote that about 2 hours ago... oh well.
(Lobs )

I just caught up with everything.

Absolutely fucking excellent!

Omc. Jeez. He's got an excellent recovery time .

I'm just going to have to read that again. Immediately. I said he was a dirty dog the other day didn't I? The sucking your own semen bit even raised an eyebrow here. Is there a name for that? Is it felching or is that a bit different? Discuss.

I did love the scarred back detail btw. And the opening bit with the wine. Fab.

You could always use the lovely Welsh version CONT Btw I use it ALL THE TIME in my head and when driving alone.

that's used round here as well . Hmm, I thought felching was arse related..... Hang on I'll google....

Ok, so urban dictionary says any orifce (human, m or f), and other places say arse. (Usually wrt gay sex as well it seems)

So, I'm going with no. He's just a bit if a perv who likes doing things like that. But we all knew that I think didn't we?

Mayyyyyybeeee.

I always thought that too norah so looked it up as well. Found the same definitions as you , so who knows?

Eliza looked as if she’d had even less sleep than Jeanne had. Red eyed and puffy cheeked she kissed her mother goodbye, before taking Jeanne’s hand. She sat pale and quiet as they set off. They had a slow journey until the first Inn ahead, and it was here they change horses and freshen up ready for the next stage.
After a quick lunch and a walk to stretch their legs, George helped the women back into the carriage, explaining that if they were to get to the Inn at Dover on time, there could be no more stops. Eliza nodded and began chatting with Jeanne animatedly about how she had never been on a boat before and that she was very much looking forward to it.
Porthos caught Jeanne’s eye and nodded at Aramis, then they grinned at each other. Athos rolled his eyes at them briefly before remounting and they began the journey again.
“Don’t like the look of that.” Porthos nodded ahead of them. Athos out a hand up to shield his eyes and nodded at Aramis. The four of them tensed up and kept a watchful eye on the surrounding countryside.
“My Lord, a word.” Athos spoke quietly to George through the window. George nodded and advised Jeanne and Eliza to sit back as he pulled the curtain across.
“What is it? What is going on?” Eliza demanded to know. George put a finger to his lips and began to explain the situation briefly.
Before he could get far, a shot rang out, startling the horses who neighed in fright. Jeanne felt the carriage being jolted about and then heard angry vices. Several musket shots rang out, the Musketeers firing back by the sound of it. The carriage ground to a halt, and telling them to remain exactly where they were, George leapt out, firing at the nearest thief. Eliza clung onto Jeanne who squeezed her tight, praying no-one would get hurt. The sound of clashing swords and men’s voices came close to where they were sitting, but apart from a sudden crash as something, possibly a man was thrown against the carriage no-one came near them.
Suddenly there was silence, Jeanne and Eliza looked fearfully at each other, then jumped as Porthos opened the door suddenly.
He was slightly out of breath, but unhurt it seemed as he helped them out. George wasn’t so lucky and Eliza ran to him. Walking round the carriage, desperately looking for Aramis, Jeanne breathed a sigh of relief to see him putting his muskets away. Like Porthos he was out of breath but unhurt. They held each other close in relief and Jeanne saw that D’Artagnan had a cut above his eye, but other than that they were all in one piece.
Porthos called out, looking at George’s knife wound. “It’s not deep but needs seeing to. Aramis?”
Aramis nodded and asked Athos for some brandy and retrieved his bag. Sitting the Ambassador against an oak tree he sat and cleaned then stitched the wound.
“You cannot continue on the journey.” Aramis told him. Athos protested, but George agreed.
“It’s not the wound, I’ve had worse.” He said cheerfully. “I recognised one of them. A known rebel trying to stop the English alliance with France. I must get back and warn the Prince.”
They helped him to the carriage and started on their way, stopping briefly to let George off so he could get a horse to take him back to the Prince of Wales. He asked D’Artagnan to remove his bag from under the seat. Opening it he took out some papers, among which was a letter with the royal seal on it. “They were after these. Make sure they get to Louis.” Athos took them and put them safely in his jacket, nodding. The Ambassador took his bag and after a brief salute, turned back to London.
“Come on!” Athos said curtly. “We must keep going and hope we get to the coast before nightfall.

Nicely done sf, good to see TM being all competent again