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Every day at Aubrey Hall was beautiful.
Penelope had been invited to spend several weeks one summer with the Bridgertons, and had developed a relaxing routine.
She woke up and took breakfast with the family. She and Eloise escaped to the library, and read in companionable silence. Often one of them would feel compelled to read a paragraph aloud, or bring up a joke they shared between them, so the reading went slowly.
Inevitably Eloise would fall asleep, or finish her book and wish to instead work on her correspondence with several forward thinkers back in London.
Penelope would then be free to slip out of the house and take long, languid strolls.
She had not expected to enjoy her long walks so much. She loved the smell of the air in the countryside. She loved the sound of the wind through the tall grasses that lined the little creek on the far side of the property. She found smooth stones to skip, and sometimes ripe berries to eat. Penelope often stayed out until she had to rush back in order to not be late for supper.
Her walks were so captivating, in fact, that she did not notice that several of her acquaintances had started to track her path.
Anthony had been the first to notice, as he often was.
He mentioned it to Benedict and Colin late at night over cigars. Colin had been keenly interested in the information, though he tried to keep the depth of his excitement from his brothers.
Benedict smiled, all teeth, and mentioned there might be a prize for the one who caught her.
Anthony had to pull Colin off of Benedict then, for Colin had always assumed Penelope was and would remain his. Anthony assured him, and coddled him, and then reminded him of the benefits of sharing.
That evening Anthony had followed Colin to his room, and confided in him a secret.
In exchange for keeping his temper under control during this new gambit, Anthony would share a fiercely-guarded piece of information: there was a small opening in the wall of the guest bathroom. It provided a direct view of the bathtub, if one took the servant’s corridor and then opened a hidden door near the third joist. There was a small space there, between the walls, where one could stand and spy.
The little hole was hidden in an elaborately-framed painting, and had been there for decades. Anthony had been told about it by his cousin, who had been told about it by his uncle, who those in the know assumed created it as he refused to elaborate further.
Anthony had not told Benedict yet, and promised Colin he would keep it from him until Colin took a wife if Colin would not be a spoilsport about their new game.
Colin agreed, still chafing at the thought of Penelope being found by his brothers. Won over by the promise of getting to watch Penelope’s soft curves unguarded. Learning what she looked like beneath her frilly dresses so he would not be dumbstruck by her figure on their wedding night, once he got around to it.
That is how the visit continued. Penelope took long walks every day, and when the brothers had time they ambled out after her. Walked through different parts of their gently-rolling land, trying bird calls and making goat noises and anything else they thought might grab her attention.
Every time Penelope bathed, Colin had already excused himself. He hurried to the hiding space where he waited, hard and leaking.
Whoever had made the peephole was shorter than him, so he had to stoop. His brothers teased him at how poorly he must be sleeping, as he was always trying to work out a knot in his shoulders now. It was worth it.
He would edge himself, waiting for Penelope to arrive for her bath.
The maid would take her robe and Colin’s dick would jump seeing Penelope’s body revealed with such little fanfare.
He delighted in seeing her routine, in spying on her when she felt she was truly alone. The maid would step out and Colin would start stroking himself, holding his breath as Penelope stepped in the bath.
Colin loved when she hissed at the heat, one little leg dangling above the water until she slowly allowed her body to adjust. He got to see her thatch of curls between her legs, her breasts swinging as she stepped in and sat down. His favorite part was seeing her breasts bob in the water, water drops sluicing down the tops of her tits as she washed herself.
His breaths were short, controlled, and sometimes he had to bite his own hand to prevent himself from giving away his position as he came thinking about shoving into the bathroom. Pulling her to standing and bending her over the tub, releasing inside of her cunt before she understood what was going on.
The day they found Penelope on her walk started just as any other.
When Penelope slipped out of the library, Benedict saw her walk past from his seat in the study. He whistled once, getting Anthony’s attention, and they went to find Colin.
Colin stood as soon as he saw his brothers approaching, eager.
“I'm going to try by the apiary,” he mused, squinting against the sun.
“We’re going to look through that little meadow,” Anthony pointed. “She’s been looping through there more often than not.”
“Cheating,” Colin said. “Random chance is the game, we said. It will be all the sweeter when I emerge victorious.”
Benedict snorted and waved him away.
Anthony and Benedict did not much feel like walking that day, so they rested against a pair of trees once they reached the outskirts of the meadow.
The oaks and firs grew thick in the area, and the afternoon light dappled across the grass. The flat earth was ringed by forest, shielding the meadow from the outside world.
Benedict took his snuffbox out and offered it to Anthony as well, and they relaxed as they waited.
It took barely an hour for their ears to prick at the sound of movement. Anthony heard a twig snap and sat straight up. Benedict missed the twig but heard soft humming. They smiled at each other, for the humming confirmed it could be no one but Penelope.
They stood and straightened their clothing. Then they adopted a slow pace aimed generally at Penelope’s trajectory, and started to chatter to each other about nothing at all.
Soon after, Penelope rounded the bend into the meadow. Her eyes widened in surprise to find the older Bridgerton brothers, for the land was so vast she had never run into anyone on her walks before.
“Oh!” she said. “Hello, you two! Are you out for a walk?”
“Why yes,” Benedict purred, offering his arm to her. “We love a walk.”
Anthony wanted to roll his eyes at Benedict’s overly flirtatious tone, but Penelope did not seem to notice it. She smiled sweetly at Benedict instead, and looped her arm through his.
“It is certainly beautiful out here. You are so fortunate to have grown up visiting.”
“Indeed we are,” Benedict agreed. “We have spent hours in this very spot. Have you seen our wishing well, just over there?”
He pointed into the woods, though it wasn’t yet visible.
“You know, I haven’t! Would you like to show me?”
“I would be delighted,” Benedict said with an officious little bow.
Penelope giggled and looked back only when Anthony announced his departure.
“Colin is nearby,” he called out. “I will fetch him. We will see you at the well.”
“No rush at all, brother,” Benedict said. His gaze was heated as it raked down Penelope’s body, and he grinned back at Anthony. “We will find a way to amuse ourselves.”
The well was a short walk away. It had seen better days. The mortar had began to flake, leaving visible gaps where the darkness peered through. A brambly bush crept up the side and sprawled down past the rim.
Benedict pressed her close against the stones, his hand lower on her back than she had experienced before. It made her breath catch, but he encouraged her instead to peer into the well.
He pointed at several marks across from them scratched into a rock, a few stones down from the top.
“We used to carve little messages on the inside,” Benedict said. “Though I can’t remember what they say.”
“That’s so dear,” Penelope said. “I think I can see, if I just…”
She glanced down the well for a brief moment, and shivered as she felt the cold air waft up. The waterline was low, low down, the well out of use for many years already. But it was ridiculous to feel nervous about something so simple, she was sure.
Penelope shook herself and leaned forward to try and make out the words.
“I cannot quite…” she said, hitching herself up on a stone so she could hinge more fully over the side.
“No, Pen, don’t trouble yourself. I'm sure they aren’t that interesting,” Benedict cautioned.
He was realizing she was rather more focused on his anecdote than he had planned, and knew there would be hell to pay if his brothers returned to find this particular guest at the bottom of their old wishing well.
She had stepped up with her second foot while he was talking, reaching out for the far side of the well to brace herself.
“Penelope,” he chided her. She was not listening, so he clasped his hands around her hips to pull her back down.
“Oh,” she said, her body seizing at the unfamiliar sensation.
It was the worst possible time for her to react this way. It shocked her and she pitched forward.
Her scream echoed down the damp rock, bouncing off itself as she scrambled for purchase.
“Fucking hell, Pen,” Benedict huffed out, attempting to pin her against the outside of the well to prevent her descent.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled up as Penelope flailed her arms, attempting to find something to hold on to. She thrashed directly into the bramble, and wailed again as the thorns pricked against her tender skin.
It was the longest couple seconds of Penelope’s life.
She came back to herself and realized she was not falling, which she was deeply thankful for.
However.
She was peering down at the glinting water.
The lip of the well was biting into her hips and her belly. She was tipped so far forward her position felt precarious.
Her right arm was wrenched above her at an uncomfortable angle, her sleeve tangled in the thorns that snaked down into the dark. Her left hand scraped against the stones, trying to find a solid hold. She had been unsuccessful, and the very tips of her fingers pressed out ahead of her against the side.
She should not have taken both of her feet on the ground, she knew now. Now the balls of her feet were scraping helplessly against the crumbling stones, and she did not have enough purchase to move any one way. She could not press herself up enough to fall back, and she could not risk falling forward.
Penelope would be in quite a lot of trouble, in fact, if it were not for Benedict being with her. He was between her legs, holding on to her tight. His hips were pressed against her rear.
Once she realized she was stuck, but not falling, her brain then filled in how intimately Benedict was holding her.
The adrenaline from her near tumble had not yet dissipated, so when she exclaimed, “Benedict,” to mean, “oh my god,” and “Terrifying!” and “I never wish to see a well again,” and “Where exactly do you think you’re holding on to, if you must hazard a guess?” and it came out shrill, in condemnation.
At the tone of her voice, Benedict released her automatically. He stepped back, away from her, and for one sick moment she thought that might have sent her over the edge.
She hissed his name again, “Benedict!” and then released a shaky breath when she remained topside.
Penelope tried to press against the well with her knees, but every time she wiggled to one side or the other she was afraid she would fall further forward.
“Christ, Penelope,” Benedict said. His voice was slightly quieter than it was before, with her head in the well. When she craned her head back she could barely see above the rim, and it strained her shoulders quickly. She decided to keep her head hanging low for the time being.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean. Are you… unharmed?”
“I think so,” she replied. “Though everything hurts. Can you pull me up?”
“Of course, of course,” he hastened, and he reached once more for her hips.
“I think my dress is caught,” she warned him. “Just under my… just… under, I feel it pulling.”
Her face warmed as she thought of speaking of her body out loud to anyone, let alone her friend’s rake of an older brother.
The thought of her saying “stomach” out loud to him made her insides curdle and her want to hide. She couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to reference a borderline lascivious part of herself like “hips”.
She shuddered, and then cursed herself for shuddering as it made her position feel even more precarious.
She heard him release a hiss of breath, and he stepped determinedly back between her legs.
He leaned forward and pressed against her. His hands held her steady, but his hips churned between her legs and caused her to jolt.
“What…?” she couldn’t quite get the question out. Couldn’t quite think of what the question might be.
“Shh,” Benedict said. “You are awfully caught, aren’t you? Don’t worry, Pen, I'm just finding out where exactly your dress is stuck. It’s so beautiful, we wouldn’t want it to tear.”
It was her favorite day dress, and so she kept her concerns to herself when she felt his hands smooth over her body. He pressed down her back and along her sides. She held her breath as his hands moved down her legs, skating down along the outsides and then up along her inner thigh.
“Oh,” she couldn’t hold in, once he brushed against something that made her spark. “Benedict, I…”
“Shh,” he said again. “Oh, this isn’t good, Pen. You’re very stuck indeed. Let me see if I could tug on it higher, if that would…”
He leaned back over her, his chest along her back, and brought his hands underneath her, to her stomach.
Penelope felt him trace against the line of stone pressing through her dress and abrading her skin. He made an empathetic tsking noise, and then brought his searching hands up. Up again. Up once more, until the backs of his hands traced along the undersides of her breasts.
“Benedict,” she said once more.
His hands snapped back, as if he had been caught.
“Just seeing if the fabric was taut, Pen, you needn’t worry.”
Before she could say anything, he had pressed his hips against her once more. Whenever he did so, she had no hope to speak properly.
Benedict leered down at Penelope’s body. She had trapped some of the fabric of her dress beneath her in her fright, and it revealed her curves to him rather wonderfully.
Her hips were canted up. Once he got her skirts up, he knew her pussy would be perfectly on display for him. He couldn’t wait to rut into her.
He nudged his way against her once more, moulding his hips against her ass and pressing his erection dead center. He could feel her heat even through their clothes. He felt this was an excellent prize for finding her, being the first one to enjoy her so.
He knew he could not go much farther without suffering bodily injury once Colin arrived, but surely there was no harm in simply… feeling. Grinding against her form. Just a bit.
Benedict tried to keep the pleasure from his voice as he pulled her hips back against him.
“Perhaps I might… might tug at where your dress is stuck, Pen, like this. We cannot free you until your dress is no longer caught.”
Penelope was making needy little noises whenever he pressed near her clit. She was trying to keep them inside, but they spilled past her lips and echoed faintly against the rocks.
He could only imagine how much better she would sound when he had direct access. The thought made him harder, and his fingers bit into her hips as he drove into her forcefully.
“Ah,” Penelope groaned, with more pain in her voice than had been there previously.
“Do I need to be more gentle as I help you, Pen?” Benedict asked, sliding his erection more slowly against her as he waited to hear.
“I… oh,” he heard Penelope swallow as he found a pleasing rhythm. “The stones, my… hips when you pull on me, I…”
“Poor girl,” Benedict murmured. “That must be so uncomfortable. Let me see what I can do.”
He kept his hands on her while he knelt down, keeping himself from sinking his teeth into the curve of her ass just before him. Once he was settled, he brought his hands down to her thighs.
“Well,” he said, pulling and tugging at different parts of her skirts. “There’s really only one option. I'm going to make sure you don’t fall in, alright? We’ll work some of the free fabric underneath you a little at a time.”
“Thank you, Benedict,” she said. He could hear the true gratitude in her voice.
Benedict could not help but think she might have a change of heart if she knew what was in store for her.
“I’ll just…” Benedict said, and rucked her skirts up before she could complain.
Once she felt the fresh air on her bare legs, she tried to kick her feet. That only made her tip forward incrementally, and she yelped once more.
Her mind did not allow her to register that much more than her legs would be visible to anyone who might venture by. She would have passed out.
“What on earth,” she said. The impact of her indignant tone was undercut slightly by her cunt being bared to the trees, not to mention the tremble in her voice.
“I'm doing just what I said I would, Pen,” Benedict assured her, his voice light. “We’ll get some of this under your hips, darling, and you’ll feel much more comfortable. Can you lift this at all?”
He worked his fingers under her right hip, shoving her skirts underneath to pillow her from the harsh line of stone.
Benedict’s breath was hot against her bare skin, and he briefly palmed himself through his trousers every time he needed to grab another handful of her skirts.
“Is that any better?” he asked, once several layers had been inched beneath her on each side.
“Yes,” she said. “But I… feel… I am…”
Benedict smiled to himself and stood back up. Penelope felt his movement, and hastened to finish her thought before he robbed her of sense once more.
“Might my skirts be… ah, pulled down? Slightly? I know you only wished to help, but it does not seem proper for…”
“Unfortunately, no,” Benedict lied. “There isn’t enough fabric. Your dress is simply too caught.”
He stepped back between her legs and bucked his hips, groaning as he felt her wetness soak through the fabric of his pants.
Penelope was spluttering beneath him, taken aback by the pleasure spiking through her for reasons she did not understand and in complete disbelief that her dress was so tangled.
She had never felt the sun on the backs of her legs, had never had a man be quite so close to her.
Benedict was just deciding that he could chance taking his cock out before his brothers arrived. Surely he had time to slide the head down and back Penelope’s slit. To press it directly to her clit until he heard her little moans echo.
He had stepped back to do so when he heard his brothers cry out in dismay.
“Penny?” Anthony called out.
“What are you doing to her,” Colin said at the same time.
“I'm alright, truly,” Penelope said faintly, trying to press her fingertips more firmly to the well wall.
“She’s stuck,” said Benedict, as he turned to face his brothers. “She was trying to read the inscriptions and she almost fell in.”
There was a moment of silence as the three of them entered into a negotiation.
Colin gestured wildly at Penelope, exposed. Fratricide in his eyes.
Now that he had heard her declare her relative safety, Anthony was having a difficult time holding in a laugh.
“She is unharmed,” Benedict said pointedly, using a series of gestures to add on, and untouched, more or less. “Her skirts are caught, and so is her sleeve. We cannot pull her up until those are free, as we would not want to rip her dress.”
Benedict was making a series of expressions he would not dare pull in front of a lady, and his gestures were growing more explicit.
Anthony had been on board since before they found Penelope. They nodded at each other and turned to Colin, who they expected to require convincing.
Colin had found his fury at seeing Benedict between Penelope’s thighs, before he had even gotten a turn, to be dissipating. This was because Penelope’s center was finally, finally bare to him.
He had gotten little glimpses of her pink quim as she stepped in and out of the bath, but he had longed for a proper look.
He swallowed compulsively against the spit flooding his mouth and he heard his brothers snicker on either side of him.
He had missed a question, then. Oh well.
“I said,” Benedict spoke, slightly louder than Colin thought was necessary. “Would you like to help Penelope? Anthony can work on detangling her sleeve.”
Colin cleared his throat.
“Yes,” he said, faintly. “Of course.”
Colin spat in his hand as he approached the well, unbuttoning his trousers at the same time.
“Pen? I'm going to try and work you free, alright?”
“Alright,” she said, a little bashfully. “I am… I know… I am not exactly presentable, at the moment. I am sorry for dragging you all into this.”
Her hips wiggled slightly as she spoke and Colin held back a groan, seeing the arousal glazing her cunt.
He felt spoiled for choice, Pen spread open and helpless in front of him like this. He slicked his saliva over his cock, which had grown hard as soon as he saw the pale flash of Penelope’s leg set against the well.
“It’s no trouble at all. We’ll get you up in no time,” he said, and grasped her hips.
He bent his knees to nudge his erection into her wetness. He and Penelope moaned at the same time, the blunt tip of him spreading her lips as he rocked forward against her.
Colin dug his fingers into the softness of her hips and ground against her harder.
“You cannot move at all, Pen?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.
“Oh,” she was saying helplessly to no one. “Oh. Oh, that’s… what are you… no, I… I cannoh, I cannot… move.”
“Let me see you try,” Colin ordered. He wanted to see her struggle against him, wanted to see the exact extent to which she was at his mercy.
When she whimpered instead, he scolded her. “Do you want,” and he ground directly against her clit so he could hear her moan sweetly, “to stay stuck through the evening? Do you want me and my brothers to spend all our time trying to help you get free? We have responsibilities, Pen.”
“I… oh. I knoh,” Penelope gasped out. “I am sor… sorry, let me…”
Colin saw her fingers tense and flex, attempting to move herself up. Her head raised, but there was no use.
“I can only… shift, like…” she pressed her hips up slightly, then to one side and the other, demonstrating her very limited range of motion.
“Do that again,” groaned Colin. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I think it might help free your skirts.”
“But…” Penelope said, sounding nervous.
“I will not let you fall, Pen. We are all here. We’d never let you come to harm.”
Colin reestablished his grip on her, as if to assure her, and thrust against her once more. Penelope’s tentative canting amplified his pleasure, and he squeezed his eyes shut to savor the feeling.
Once he had fully felt it, his eyes opened. He needed more.
“I’m going to… try another approach, for a moment,” he told her.
She let out a distant sounding mm, woozy with her own pleasure but not sure what was happening.
Colin dropped down to his knees and sucked on two of his fingers.
“Good idea,” Anthony said. He was rubbing his dick through his trousers. “That might help her.”
Benedict had given up and pulled himself out of his pants, fucking lazily through his fist.
Colin licked his lips and brought his slick fingers up to Penelope’s quim. He rubbed a few teasing circles over her clit, grinning as he heard Penelope grind out a low moan, and then pressed a finger into her pussy.
Penelope gasped and started, as much as she could.
“Wait,” she said. “Wait, I…”
“Yes, Pen?”
“What,” was the only thing she could get out for a full minute.
Colin didn’t let it stop him, and stroked himself as he watched his finger disappear inside of her.
“She looks a little freer,” Benedict said. “Pen, shift back again. I think this is working.”
“I can’t,” Penelope’s voice drifted up. “You… what are…”
Colin felt when her body grew used to his finger, her tight heat sucking him in further. Penelope’s hips jerked up of their own accord, and she moaned so loudly that the brothers shared a grin.
“Are you okay, Pen?” Colin asked, voice pitched to concern.
“Yes,” she groaned. “I don’t… Colin. How… I feel…”
“You sound like I’m hurting you. I want to keep trying this, as I do think it’s working. But you’re breathing so heavily. Should I try another approach?”
Colin saw the back of her neck flush with embarrassment and pressed a second finger inside of her in the middle of her response.
“Colin,” she pled again. “There is… what… what are you doing?”
“I am trying to work you free so we may pull you from the well,” he said patiently. “Anthony, Benedict, can you see a better way?”
Anthony stepped forward to paw around her hips. Benedict moved to the other side and pressed the head of his dick against Penelope’s bare thigh, which earned him a glare from Colin.
“Hm. No, that’s what I would do,” Anthony declared. “It might be a little uncomfortable, Penny. Can you be patient for us?”
“Yes,” she said, breathless. “Of… of course. But you are… I…”
Penelope was trying harder than she’d tried at anything in her life to find a way to describe what was happening to her. She could not continue to fall short.
She was not precisely sure what was happening, only that it must be an accident.
The sparks of pleasure that radiated through her when Benedict had tried to pull her up had been entirely new to her. She had prayed very hard that Benedict was too worried about her to notice she had trouble speaking, that she was letting out strange sounds she could not stop.
Thankfully, he seemed to simply think she was struggling against her situation.
Now Colin was trying something different and it was a thousand times more powerful, and she didn’t know if her luck would hold.
If she could only move she would be covering her face in embarrassment.
It was very wrong of her, to not speak up. She had gotten distracted by how delicious it felt, the way they moved her back against them as they attempted to pull and fix and free.
Penelope tried once more to warn him, to save him from the indignity of doing what he ought not.
“I must warn you that you… oh,” was all she could manage.
Colin had begun to scissor his fingers inside of her, pausing every few seconds to withdraw his soaking fingers and press against her clit. He was bucking against his other hand, forcing himself to be patient so they could play with Pen longer.
Penelope could not stop from moaning in earnest, then, and she blushed waiting for Colin to realize how wanton she was being.
“That’s perfect, Pen,” he said to her surprise. “Breathe through it, just like that. Can you keep doing that for us? We’ll have you out of here in no time.”
She couldn’t respond as he was pushing another finger into her, and her mind went blank.
“Alright,” Colin said, spitting on his hand and working it down his shaft. “I need more leverage if we’re going to get you unstuck. I’m going to try something a little different, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed faintly, and then she said, “God.”
Something very blunt and very large was pressing inside of her now, and her blood was molten lava.
She had no sense of her body. She once felt the coolness of the stone pressing back against her, and sharp pricks when her arm jostled the creeping vine, but those sensations receded into the distance and all she could feel was this new, nameless, hot, thick something. She was her body no more. She was only a tight and grasping chasm that needed to be filled.
Above her, Colin was already sweating. Pen’s slick cunt sucked him in, and he would have sworn she was made for him. He felt his dick twitch at her keening and groaning, pressing down on her lower back so he could thrust fully inside of her.
Once he bottomed out he panted harshly at how tight she felt around him. Swallowed. Grasped her hips so he could rape her roughly, as he had been dreaming.
He wanted to moan her name. He wanted to pull her up, fuck her into the soft grass. Rape her against a tree, hand over her mouth so he could feel her cries vibrate against his palm. Pry open her mouth and spit onto her tongue, chase it with his lips.
Kiss her through her orgasm, fuck her through it, pounding her until she was begging him to stop, to be gentle, to let her recover. Kissing her softly and murmuring No into her skin as he adjusted his grip, fucked her harder.
Colin wanted to make love to her, too. He wanted to marry her and wake up to her curled against him. Soft and pliant, so he could sleepily fuck into her. Fill her up before she was awake, keep her dripping with his cum. Tie her to the bedpost and breed her until she forgot she had any other purpose.
Her echoing moans brought him back to this moment, where he was finally stretching her pink quim around his cock.
“Oh, oh! I… I can’t,” she was chanting.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he assured her. “You’re doing perfect, Pen. Stay right there. I have you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll get you free.”
He thrust more fervently inside her, hoping she would have bruises from his fingers dotting her hips. He thought about sneaking into her room, licking over them as she slept. Coming against them and pulling her nightgown back down, claiming her in every way before they wed.
She was gripping him tight, tighter than he had ever experienced. He was growing close but refused to rape her without knowing what fucking her through her orgasm might feel like, so he pulled out of her with a groan.
Colin grinned at her helpless little whimper, and reached down to rub hard against her clit.
“Don’t move, Pen,” he instructed her. “This might work, hold on.”
She was moaning his name over and over and he had to grasp himself around the base of his prick to not spill all over her right then. He saw her shake, her legs scrabble for purchase as the feeling built and built inside her.
Then her body froze as she came, and he forced his cock back inside of her.
“Fucking Christ,” he panted as he fucked into her. She squirmed as she could beneath him, and he said it again, “Fucking Christ,” and he came buried in her cunt.
He thrust into her a few more times, loving the squeeze of her, and then reluctantly slipped himself out.
“Let me try, Colin,” Benedict said. He had been ready. “You’ve loosened it a bit, I think I can work her free.”
Colin breathed out a laugh and moved to the side.
“It does take effort. Best of luck.”
Benedict tapped her hip comfortingly and pressed into her with a groan.
Anthony been tasked with untangling Penelope's sleeve from the thorny bramble, but decided to handle the entire vine while he waited his turn. He had brought out his pocket knife and was hacking away at the main stalk as he stole glances at her shaking body.
Benedict was fisting his hands at the waist of her dress, dragging her back toward his body as he fucked her.
Anthony watched, cock pulsing, as her neckline crept lower and lower, until her nipples were clearly visible and the tops of her breasts bounced in time with Benedict’s thrusts.
“Penny,” Anthony said, as if he were stricken.
His voice was so serious that Penelope tried to meet his gaze, but could not quite manage it. It would not have mattered regardless, as he was looking rather theatrically away.
“I am so grateful we were the ones who happened upon you, and not any of the men from the village. Your… I am so sorry to speak these words aloud in such gentle company.”
Penelope was trying valiantly not to make any noise, but little whimpers were escaping her at every thrust. She was trying just as hard to focus on what Anthony was telling her, as it seemed very serious indeed.
“Do you remember how your legs are bare to the sky, Penny? How your dress is all caught up, and you are showing your voluptuous body to anyone who might look?”
She moaned and flushed and tried to nod, overcome.
“We will help you because we’re your friends. And we will never tell about all of this skin you’re showing us. But… All of your shifting, you see. All of the work you have done trying to get free. There are… other things, too, that have shifted.”
Penelope was trying to parse his meaning, but could not.
“I… oh. Anthony, what…?”
“The front of your dress, Penny. Can you feel it is… fitting differently, currently?”
She grew very still. Benedict continued to rut into her.
Anthony tried his best to keep the heat from his voice.
“Can you feel that what… your dress is made to cover, it is now… exposing?”
Penelope let out a horrified little breath and reared back, making brief eye contact with a solemn Anthony before dropping her head back down.
“No,” she said.
“Oh, yes, Penny,” Anthony said, and he could not keep from grinning. “I know what color your nipples are now. You truly didn’t feel them spill out? Are you sure you didn’t do this on purpose? Did you want us to see?”
The churning, building feeling was back, twining its way through Penelope’s body as Benedict worked diligently to free her. It was made worse, more fervent, by hearing stern and proper Anthony Bridgerton talk about her breasts. He could see her breasts. He spoke of the color of her…
“Anthony, please. No.”
“What if someone else had come by, Penny? What if some stranger you couldn’t trust had happened upon you?”
Benedict bit off a moan at Anthony’s words and fucked harder into Penelope.
“He might have used you, Penny. Do you know what that means?”
“No,” she wept.
“You don’t know what it means for a man to take a woman? For him to force himself on her? What about rape, Penny? Do you know what it means for a woman to be raped?”
“No, no, no,” she chanted against the feeling Benedict stirred between her thighs.
“That’s good, Penny. You’re very good.”
Anthony had finished cutting the main stem of the vine, and moved to hold her arm more firmly so he could start the drudgery of peeling each little thorn away from the fabric of her sleeve. He could feel her pulse hammer through her delicate wrist.
He frowned down at her, made his voice considering.
“But I just don’t know, Penny. I don’t know how you couldn’t have known. They’re so large. How could you not feel them swinging more freely? Are you lying to me?”
“I wouldn’t, I promise, I promise,” she keened.
“I think we should ask Colin what he thinks. Colin, come over here, would you?”
Penelope’s head jerked up again, and she pled with Anthony.
“Please, no, Anthony. He mustn’t, Colin shouldn’t…”
“Oh. You only wanted me to see your breasts? That’s very forward, Penny.”
“No, no! I… oh. I don’t want anyone…”
“What’s the matter?” Colin asked, eyes glinting in amusement.
“See for yourself,” Anthony said, and gestured at her tits.
“Pen,” Colin breathed. He wanted to drag her up immediately and pin her arms down. Spend hours sucking on her pebbled nipples, make her beg for things she still didn’t understand.
“I’m… oh… sorry,” she ground out. “I… didn’t… oh! I don’t…”
“We forgive you,” Colin said softly. “Don’t worry, Pen. We’ll take care of you. We promise not to tell anyone that you were practically unclothed in the meadow.”
“Someone might pass by and see her,” Anthony pointed out. “Her reputation would be ruined if someone saw her so disheveled.”
“You’re right,” Colin agreed. Penelope keened below them. “It would only take one fellow passing through. Then he would spread word and everyone would want to see, wouldn’t they? We might not get her free by the time the men of the village came to take a look. Pen, please don’t worry. I’ll help you, okay? I’ll cover you in case someone walks by.”
He kneeled down and reached into the well, sliding his hands along her body until he held her breasts.
Penelope gasped at the feeling of his hands on her chest and looked up at him, shocked. Embarrassed.
“Shh,” Colin said. “Don’t worry, Pen. We have you.”
He cupped them lightly, letting the rocking of her body trace her nipples lightly along his palms.
“Colin,” she cried out. “I feel… wicked, Colin, I don’t… know… I can’t…”
“Shh,” he said again. “No one else is here, Pen. It is only us. We’re only working you free. Feel anything your body brings you. No one will know. You’re doing perfectly, darling. We’ll take care of you. No one will see your lewdness, Pen, see? I am protecting you.”
He brought his palms up then, pressing hard against her breasts. She let out a shocked punch of breath. Colin let her breasts fall, again and again, pinching and pulling on her nipples as she drew closer to her second orgasm.
“Colin, you mustn’t…” she tried, and Colin shushed her. Plucked at her nipples harder in retaliation.
“Nonsense, Pen. I’m not doing anything but shielding your naked body. Would you rather be on display?”
“No,” Penelope conceded.
“That’s right. Say ‘thank you’, for all the help we’re providing. You’re usually so mannered, why haven’t you thanked us yet?”
Anthony huffed out a laugh as he finished untangling her sleeve from the thorns, and tossed the dead vine aside. He angled himself closer, putting a knee up on the rim of the well.
“Sorry,” Penelope managed, muscles tensing in the build.
“No,” Colin said sharply. “Say ‘thank you’.” He dug his fingers into her breasts and she sobbed.
“Th…” was all she got out before she clenched down hard, coming on Benedict’s cock as Colin played with her tits.
Anthony dragged her palm up as she started shaking, and pressed it to his hard length. He pushed down on her hand as he rocked into it, groaning quietly at the modicum of relief it provided.
“I think you might be coming down with something,” Colin said. “You are moaning and shaking. Are you cold?”
Penelope was flushed through. She stared resolutely down at the water below, thankful for a moment that it was easy for her to avoid eye contact.
“Not at all,” she said, once she caught her breath. “I don’t know what’s come over me, I’m… I am not cold. I am fine now, I promise.”
“If you’re in pain you must tell us. We’re making good progress,” he assured her. He squeezed her breasts once more, growing hard again at the weight of them in his hands. “But Benedict looks tired.”
Benedict had thrust into Penelope to the hilt to enjoy her coming on his cock, and stayed seated to feel her little clenches as her cunt spasmed in the aftermath. Hearing Colin mention his name he groaned quietly, not wanting to give up her slick heat, and slid out.
He jerked off staring at Penelope’s spread legs, curls matted with her arousal, and spent on the stones between her shaking thighs.
“It is hard work,” Benedict agreed once he caught his breath. “But never fear, Pen. You are very dear to us, so we would do it a thousand times over.”
“Thank you,” she called up. “Am I any closer?”
“I’m sure I’ll be the one to free you, Penny,” Anthony said. “Colin, would you hold her arm? It’s all scratched from the vine and I don’t want the stones to hurt her further.”
“Ask Benedict,” Colin replied, thumbs sliding gently over Penelope’s nipples. “I am keeping her from view.”
Benedict looked rather interested in being the one to keep Penelope from view, but acquiesced. Once his trousers were done back up, he took her arm from Anthony.
Anthony took his place behind her and crouched down, prodding and pulling at her hips and thighs. Memorizing the ruddy curves of her, how inviting her quim looked in the afternoon sun.
“Actually, you are almost free,” he said, moving his hands officiously. “We’ll have you up in no time at all. You’ve been very brave. Can you hold on for us for just a little longer?”
Penelope craned her head up once more at the good news, and beamed up at Colin.
“I will be so relieved to have my feet on the ground once more,” she said. “You are all the best of men, to assist me so.”
“Nonsense, Penelope. It’s our pleasure. And besides, you’re doing so well down there,” Benedict called down to her. He stroked softly over her hand, drawing spirals up her fingers and down to her wrist.
Penelope let out a frantic little giggle that turned into a moan when Anthony slid roughly in to her.
“How have you reveled among theater folk for years, and yet you still cannot tell a joke?” Colin asked.
“Nonsense. My intended audience enjoyed it,” Benedict sniffed. “And I am an artist. You’re the wordsmith. Where are your jokes, then?”
“Too busy for jokes,” Colin said imperiously. “My hands are full.”
“Shut up both of you,” Anthony said, and snapped his hips harder against Penelope’s.
Anthony had been waiting to come for so long, he hardly lasted.
He chewed on his lips to stop his deep, rumbling groans from spilling out as he drove into Penelope’s tight cunt. He could hear her gasping, her pussy sensitive and pulsing from being fucked and fucked and fucked once more.
“So good, Penny,” he grit out as he held her hips still.
She was clenched around him so hard he almost raped his cum inside of her.
He pulled out just in time, pumping his cum just beneath her slit. It pooled onto the patch of wet that had dripped from Penelope, and he felt additionally satisfied.
“I think we’ve done it,” Anthony declared. “Penny, I’m going to try and pull you up and back. Colin and Benedict, take her arms, would you? I’m going to break your fall with my body, Penny, and then we’ll get you sorted out.”
He was making pointed eye contact with his brothers, reminding them that there were skirts to be pulled down and necklines to be pulled up and, most importantly, a story to stick to.
They nodded back at him and Penelope said, “Whenever you’re ready, really,” and Anthony tucked himself away and buttoned himself back up and nodded.
“Right,” he said. “On three.”
Anthony lifted her up, easy as anything, and fell back to the ground. Colin and Benedict had hastened to her side, and were adjusting her before she had fully realized she was no longer stuck. Colin tugged sharply on her neckline, theatrically looking the other way to protect her modesty.
He asked, “Are you… settled, Pen?” and she felt a deep fondness for how genteel he was being with her.
She was full of adrenaline and stiff and sore, and she brought her shaky hands up to her bodice to check. Found one of her nipples to be peeking over her dress, still, and blushed as she arranged it properly.
“Now I am,” she said, and held her arms up so Benedict and Colin could assist her off of Anthony.
Benedict had been tugging at her skirts, making sure she was presentable, and she felt very grateful.
Anthony stood and dusted off his trousers.
“Come on, then,” he said. “We made it. Penny, I would imagine you’d love a bath before supper.”
Colin groaned as he had just gotten himself under control, and he glared at Anthony’s teasing smile.
The three men treated Penelope very gently on the walk back, worrying over her scrapes and stiff joints.
Once they got to the house they explained a sanitized version of Penelope’s predicament to anyone who would listen, and they all gathered around her to provide her sympathy.
Finally Anthony declared it had been enough, and ordered a maid to lead Penelope to her bath.
Colin slipped away then, already starving to see Penelope naked before him once more. He hardly had to wait at all, for as soon as he made it to his little room she appeared before him, wrapped in a long robe.
Her maid lingered longer than usual, assisting her into the bath and repeatedly asking if she was sure she would not need help. To his relief Penelope waved her away kindly, and sank deep under the water.
She stayed fully submerged for long minutes, and Colin thought perhaps he would bring himself to completion with only the watery outline of her tits and the memory of her sweet cunt to guide him.
Then she sat up, and he could not help his groan when he saw her reach for her breasts.
Colin held his breath, willing for her to moan sweetly once more. Praying she would touch herself, bring herself to orgasm while he spied on her.
His hips bucked automatically when he saw she was playing with her nipples just as he did, repeating the pattern he used. Brushing gently, pinching, pulling.
He thrust against his fist, imaging her thinking of him, of his hands on her and his body between her legs. Of her not understanding what she needed, what she wanted, knowing only that Colin could give it to her. Of her coming to the memory of Colin raping her.
The water sloshed around her as she jerked and moved with the sensation, and Colin could have wept for joy when he heard her let out her soft oh, ohs once more.
Her dainty hand slid under the water, down her stomach. Colin breathed open-mouthed against the wall as he saw her dip her hand between her thighs.
Her head rolled back with a gasp, and she clenched her eyes shut as she replicated the pleasure she had found near the meadow.
Penelope was cautious at first, slow, and Colin matched the speed of his wrist to hers.
He hissed when she found her rhythm, muscles straining as she rolled her hips and bit her tongue and slid her fingers against her slickness until she came hard. Her moan echoed across the tiles of the bathroom, just as it had echoed down the well, and Colin came right after.
When Penelope emerged pink from the bath, scrubbed clean from her ordeal, she found her saviors in the drawing room.
She smiled at them each in turn, to show she was well, and sat by the fire. She felt rather pleased when Colin wasted no time in coming to sit beside her, taking her hand in his.
“We were so worried, Penelope. I’m so glad we were there to help you, and that you were not stuck for hours, calling out.” He leaned a little closer and whispered in her ear. “Pardon me for speaking so plainly, but I have been sick over what might have happened if we weren’t there. What if some stranger had come across you? Stepped between your legs and ran his hand up your bare thigh? Perish the thought.”
Penelope blushed at his words and nodded.
She felt shy in his presence, as she so recently had touched herself to the thought of him saving her. It did not help that he was holding the hand she had just pressed between her legs.
“I am always so grateful for you, Colin, but now even more. Thank you for coming to my aid.”
“I will always come for you, I promise. But you were so poorly treated by the well today, I wonder if we might show you other secrets the property has to offer to make up for it. Did you know there’s a little cave to the north?”
“Is there?” asked Penelope, surprised. “I have never heard anyone mention it.”
“Oh yes, Pen. It’s wonderful. Once you’ve recovered, my brothers and I will take you there.”