England, 1624.

"This is her image as she was. It seems a thing to wonder on, as she looks down upon us, preserved in portrait form to live eternally as the nineteen-year-old who tragically fell in battle for the King."

"She is the epitome of beauty itself. She is an angel on Earth with her fair hair, winsome smile, and the most pleasing womanly figure. How didst thou come upon such a bewitching panel painting?"

"'Twas hidden away for over a century, my dear Thomas. I found myself infatuated by Beatrice's handsome features, and the portrait is most pleasing to the eye."

Thomas Wingfield looked between his host, William, the Earl of Stone, and the beautiful vision painted in oils on the wall. He had been invited to spend some time at Stone Castle in Kent and was wined and dined most hospitably.

"Lady Beatrice had been married less than a year when her beloved husband, Lord Percy Alderton, was slain at the battle of Agincourt in 1415. King Henry was deeply distraught to lose such a heroic figure as Percy and sent his condolences to Beatrice, along with the body of her betrothed hero. Heartbroken, the Lady swore to emulate her lost one and took it upon herself to don his armour and continue the fight against the French army. Alas, no warrior was she and fell almost immediately at the battle of Valmont in Normandy."

"What a double tragedy, to be sure."

"Quite. Before she set sail to the continent, Beatrice commissioned a portrait of herself, and the legend goes that she ordered the artist to infuse the wood panels with Percy's blood and semen before painting her image. The love-torn beauty believed this would cement the eternal bond between the lovers for as long as the painting exists. Some have told tales of the lovelorn Lady endlessly pacing the castle's corridors after midnight, seeking some sort of consolation and peace."

"So, you think the painting be haunted?"

"Aye, sirrah. Many who have stayed have related strange encounters that cannot be explained other than supernatural occurrences or witchcraft."

x

These were troubled times under the sovereignty of King James, and Sir William had just managed to return to his estate after his involvement in the Parliament of 1624, being given free rein. All manner of legislation was passed; subsidies for a trade war with Spain were voted on, and issues of foreign policy were openly discussed. Firmly in control of political decision-making, Sir William, James Villiers, now the Duke of Buckingham, and John Wingfield, the Earl of Derby, worked to stave off attacks on James’s fiscal policies, especially the granting of monopolies to royal favourites. Both John and his son Thomas had joined Sir William for the duration.

Left alone whilst William and his father busied themselves with affairs of the castle, Thomas continued to study the portrait forlornly. Beatrice was a brown-eyed blonde who had the hint of a seductive smile on her full, luscious lips. Her face was a perfect oval shape, and her eyes seemed to fix on his as he stood before her in a mesmerised state.

"How I would wish to kiss those lips and run my hair through her silky tresses. 'Twould be a dream come true if I could ravish my Lady for just one night."

He managed to tear himself away and retire to his bedchamber, perchance to sleep with that alluring image imprinted in his brain. His host had been very accommodating, and Thomas reclined on a luxurious four-poster with red velvet curtains pulled back at the corners. The sheets were satin, the coverlet was velvet, and the walls were lavishly gilded. The room was furnished with a writing desk, padded chairs, and a fully laden bookshelf.

Sure enough, the fretful dreams of Thomas were regaled with visions of the naked and curvaceous Lady Beatrice writhing and posturing in his bed. Betwixt slumber and wakefulness, he perceived a white mist begin to permeate the chamber. Was that a shape floating toward him as if lighter than air? A face very nearly gelled, and the image formed a chest with a plate armour covering.

"Wish harder, my dearest. For a century, I have been denied subsistence. Wish me back. Back, back."

In the eerie quiet, Thomas sensed a faint pulse of life, and his nostrils flared as she spoke in a silken whisper that sent chills down his spine. Thomas sat bolt upright in bed and tried to focus his eyes on anything or anyone corporeal, but naught came in sight. Further sleep evaded him as he tried to understand it all. He decided not to mention a word to the Earl lest he be considered mad. Again, Thomas became enthralled and besotted by the portrait of Beatrice, and he found himself wishing aloud for her to come to him as he stood there for hours. In his eyes, she was undoubtedly timeless, her image preserved in art form, her beauty captured at the seemingly paradoxical intersection of sexuality and death. The same occurrence repeated itself that night at midnight, and he imagined the fair Beatrice came into his dream, this time without armour but adorned in the whitest silk gown that fluttered enticingly.

"Wish for me, my dearest. I know you can feed me. Only you..."

Thomas awoke with a start, and the dawn light streamed through his window. He joined William and John for a hearty breakfast, but Thomas complained of a headache and light nausea. Was he becoming possessed? The Earl looked concerned and suggested he spend a day in bed to recover his wits. All that day, Thomas wished for Lady Beatrice to appear with every fibre of his being. The thought of her obsessed him irrationally. As he passed out in a light sheen of sweat, the milky white mist returned, and this time, as it evaporated, the Lady did manifest before him.

"I knew I could rely on you, Thomas."

In front of him, isolated in the darkness, an image formed out of thin air. The candles flickered red, and shadows darted here and there, and the room was utterly silent apart from his heavy breathing. Her body shimmered and became illuminated by the naked flames. The twenty-five-year-old fellow rubbed his eyes at the fair one adorned in a translucent gown with a plunging V neckline that only ended just below two of the fullest and roundest breasts he had ever seen. Her skin was of a pale alabaster that radiated as the four candlewicks flickered but made no shadows on the walls. Her lustrous locks cascaded over her shoulders and seemed to mimic the dancing flames as her tresses seemed to flutter lightly.

"Be you Lady Beatrice?"

Thomas pondered the incredible notion of the portrait of Beatrice being a vessel for her tortured soul and that the anguished enchantress had somehow become animated and released to tread the Earth once more.

"Hush, my Knight."

She fixed him with a commanding gaze and pushed the front of the dress down to expose those luscious breasts. Each nipple was rosy and erect, and Thomas received a tingling in every nerve ending in his body. He watched agog as the spectral blonde raised her right hand to her left arm and dropped the thin strap to let her gown fall away to reveal her sizeable globe of flesh. With her smoky brown eyes fixed on his, she allowed her diaphanous gown to drop to her waist with a whisper of silk. Her huge tits sat high on her chest and looked almost too large on her slim five-foot-five frame.

"Do I please you?"

Her voice had a light lilt as she wiggled her hips to direct her gown to her bare feet. Her legs were toned, and her buttocks were lifted and perfectly rounded and plump. She began to glide towards the bed, her feet barely seeming to touch the floor. The air and light around her seemed to shimmer as she approached. She looked into his eyes as she drew the sheets from his body. Thomas wore a nightshirt, which Beatrice hiked up to his hips to reveal his full erection. He had no shame in his tribute to her stunning beauty, and he returned her gaze with one of desire and expectation.

"You are young and fertile, are ye not?"

Thomas dismissed her words as her slender fist curled around his hot shaft with serious intent. He shifted on his back as she softly jerked his stiff cock, and he focused on her tits, which jiggled as a result. He was consumed with lust as he leered at the enchanting creature who had chosen him for her phantom tryst. She was, without a doubt, a bewitching temptress, and although the chamber was dimly lit, she had an illuminating presence.

"My Lady...oh!"

Thomas grabbed bunches of the sheets in his fists as the blonde maiden bent her head to his groin and twirled her pink tongue around the glans a few times before devouring his entire length. Although no novice in the ways of lovemaking, he had never enjoyed oral sex thus far. Beatrice had verve and spirit, and even though she had expired at nineteen, she had an impressive prowess at cock sucking.

"By the Saints!"

Beatrice pulled back, licked his bell end again, and switched back to gliding down his spear again with relish. The sensation of her sweet lips working their magic was sublime, and the addition of her stroking his scrotum was a double stimulation. It would have taken a better man than he to hold back, and he hissed and threw his head back just as his dick pulsed; he ejaculated down her throat. As she gulped and swallowed all the seed he had, she looked directly into his eyes.

He still bucked as his cum spurted into her mouth. She moaned with both cheeks hollowing as she sucked hard, eager for every drop. Her tongue swirled around his glans as the vixen wasted not one drop of semen.

"'Tis pleasing but far from being necessary. I shall return. Fare thee well, good Thomas."

He blinked rapidly as his eyes blurred from the sweat that had dappled his brow, and the Lady Beatrice retreated and seemed to become vague and indistinct. When he sat up, he was again alone.

x

The next day, Thomas spent a great deal of time studying the portrait of the fair lady, especially the handsome features of the damsel in armour. Did he detect a hint of smugness about her luscious lips? Or fruition, perhaps? A brisk walk further spent the day on the grounds of the Estate and further contemplation. When the long evening passed, listening to the Earl wither on about King James and the wretched Spaniards, Thomas hastened to his bedchamber with his tail up. He undressed and lit five candles. When midnight arrived, he sat on the edge of the four-poster and wanked his dick to full erection, wishing aloud for his fantasy female to materialize.

"You seem to be in fine fettle, good Knight."

Thomas felt his heart race when he heard the fine lilt of Lady Beatrice, who padded barefoot into the chamber. She smiled winsomely as she caressed her beguiling figure's soft skin and subtle curves. He frantically jerked his hot shaft as he watched her hands find their way to the raging fire between her upper thighs, and then she lightly touched her slick vulva. Teasing herself, the blonde apparition traced out her tuft of pubic hair that marked the top of her moist labia.

"You returned. How are you able to take leave of the picture? Why have ye not crossed over?"

"Because there are still things that I must do, and I need help. I have a craving, dear Thomas. My soul needs spiritual nourishment. Aye, I be desirous of your discharge so that I may continue to be blessed with my immutable love for him."

"Lord Percy?"

"Aye. Never did a mortal walk on the Earth as magnificently as he did. 'Tis he who helps me prevail, albeit in the form of my depiction hung on a wall. What a tragedy that he did not join in oils, forever to be immortalised as I. I am unable to leave this castle, together with its land and outbuildings, as I remain integrated into the painting. Connected by an invisible umbilical cord, if you will, to form a whole."

As she spoke, Beatrice pushed her middle fingertip onto her clitoris, then made slow circles around the hard nub. She spread her legs wide and bent them at the knee, and applied pressure to her cunt. Two fingers now pushed up into her tightening vagina as she went on tiptoe and rubbed herself with vigour.

"Thou art as magnificent a creature as I ever laid eyes on. If you desire my sperm, then so be it."

Beatrice tossed her head, and her mane fell over her right side. She fell atop the large bed and placed her left hand on top of her thigh, bending her left leg at the knee. Thomas observed beads of moisture on her pubes, and her cunt lips parted like petals of a flower.

"Let me taste you now."

Thomas gladly slid up the bed, and Beatrice brought her head to the level of his groin and popped his stiffness into her eager mouth. Her nostrils flared as she hummed on the rock-hard cock, and her red lips closed tightly around the crown. As her head rocked, her cheeks hollowed out as she moved rapidly back and forth. Thomas thought her lips were like silk and her tongue possessed by the devil as she fluttered around his sensitive knob. As she blew him divinely, the lucky man stroked her tresses.

"Truly, you are a dream come true, Madam," he groaned.

Beatrice held him in her pursed lips and caressed his smooth shaft a few times, and a long string of saliva drooled from the left side of her mouth. The wet, sumptuous lips played with his top half, and then she sucked down the pulsating stalk. Her smouldering dark eyes met his, and he desired nothing in the known world at that moment than to fuck the adorable woman.

Thomas had never sported such stiffness as the fiery vixen assaulted his organ with assured sucks and licks, twisting and whipping her head in her yearning. Beatrice pumped his member in her fist as she dribbled on his length. The lewd sounds of her tight suction on his cock were as erotic a thing as he had experienced, and this ethereal fellatio was intense enough to cause him to spit in her cave of a mouth. The fair Lady gulped and gasped as she swallowed his cum until she saw fit to release his well-sucked dick from her coated lips. She sighed with contentment and rose from the bed.

"Dear Lady, will I see you again? "I pray to thee, good woman, let me send my tail inside your sweet cunnie before my blood boils over."

"Wish it to be, and I shall return a final time. Wish hard, good Knight."

Thomas wiped the sweat-slick hair from his brow and collapsed on his back.

x

As he wished and slept, Thomas shifted in his bed and awoke abruptly when he discovered he was not alone. The curvy frame of Lady Beatrice lay on her right side next to him in her raw state. He was glad that his wishes had worked so well, and he eagerly pushed into her from behind as her hips made small thrusting movements against his hardening cock. With his spear settling nicely nestled between the fair one's plump cheeks, he slowly rubbed himself in her perfect buttock channel.

"Take me," she said simply, and Thomas obliged and slid into her from behind.

He gave her left breast a squeeze as he closed his eyes and wallowed in the superb sensation of having her tight cunt engulfing his cock. They both made rocking motions on their sides in a spoon position as the grateful fellow thrust his entire length into her. In his youth and virility, he hammered into her as fast as he could. Whether she be real or a dream, she flowed with her juices and moaned most happily. Her face was hidden by the curtain of her fine hair as he pounded into her. Her tits bounced fast, and he moved his hand to her hip for purchase.

"Wait a while."

Beatrice extricated herself from him and turned to face him. She pressed her body against his, and her enormous jugs mashed against his solid chest. Their mouths met, and they kissed with increasing passion, their tongues flickering in and out as they hugged tightly. His heart beat fast against her snow-white hemispheres as she pressed her quivering curves up to him. Their arms and legs became entwined, and she reached down between his legs and moved his rampant erection to the opening of her cunt. Her fluids flowed freely and ran down her upturned ass crack as she waited impatiently for him to enter her.

In turn, Thomas held his hand on hers, and with eyes burning into each other, they stroked his rigid prick together. When his stalk was coated in her nectar, he thrust in deep with a single pelvic push, and Beatrice cried out and pushed her body up off the bed into his torso. They spoke not as he commenced fucking her with urgent strokes. He welcomed her thighs, which she wrapped around his lower back as he rammed in and out of his dream girl.

"By all that is glorious, your cave is fearsome hot, Milady!"

Ever bolder, the besotted young man pushed her legs back behind her ears and pinned them to the bed by the ankles. His cock drove in until his swollen balls smacked against her bum. Their mouths roughly sought out each other again, and their loud moans became swallowed up in each other.

"Your tail is mighty hard, my love."

"Glad tidings to be sure, Madam. I am your bull, and my dart is yours."

He managed to pause his lovemaking, and he looked down at the vision under his sweaty body. Her dark, brooding eyes with the sensual arched brows looked back at him from a flushed face. Her lips were parted, and soft sighs came from the bottom of her throat. Her great boobs rose and fell, and her mass of hair was tousled and damp as he buried himself inside her again. The woman was so wet, so hot.

"Fuck me,” she moaned breathlessly. "The moment I heard you pleading, I knew I needed you. Fuck me hard. Hurry!"

Thomas kissed her hard on the mouth as her tight cunt clamped down on his girth. Her thighs locked about his waist as he drew his hips back and then pushed into her to the hilt. He exhaled deeply as her sex clenched on his prick. With her thighs tightening about the backs of his upper thighs, he began to slide in and out.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck me!”

The bed creaked and rocked as his balls smacked into her raised behind, and she sighed with every thrust. Her fingernails dug into his flexed biceps as he drove harder and harder into her.

Love me, love me."

Her hushed tones of arousal stoked his desire, and his thrusts grew more ferocious in his untamed lust. Her arms stretched out, and she pulled herself up to kiss him hard on the mouth, and her darting tongue prodded his lips with a venomous frenzy. In and out, his cock pistoned, and each penetrating stroke lifted the supple vixen into ecstasy. Thomas was overwhelmed by the feel of her in his arms, and he wished they could keep the ferocious rut fueled forever.

"Fuck me like a bitch," she announced abruptly and gently pushed him on the chest.

He withdrew from her sodden muff as she rolled onto her stomach. Her massive tits meant she was unable to lie flat down as he spread her outstretched arms and opened her slim legs. Thomas knelt and pressed his face to her and licked her from cunt to anus with the tip of his tongue before sitting up and pointing his prick to her pink channel. Lady Beatrice pushed back against him in an obvious welcome sign and slowly rolled from side to side, grinding herself on his stiff pole. With a cry and a huge thrust, he pushed in as far as he could.

"Glory be!" he cried as his balls met her twin cushions.

He leaned over and gave her back gentle kisses that made her shiver with delight. Then he settled on her and started to move to and fro, his stiff prick barely leaving her cunt as he ground his hips in a seductive circular motion that drove her wild.

"Yes, my love, fuck me hard."

The pair of them sweated profusely as the man increased his tempo. As he plunged in, so she thrust back. She gasped and made little throaty noises as her pussy pulled him in. Thomas leaned forward and buried his face in her lustrous hair, then reared back with his hands on her big boobs. They fucked like dogs in heat, and the sounds of skin slapping on the skin filled the tiny room. His enthusiasm urged him to hammer the curvaceous woman harder so that their joined bodies bounced on the bed. She turned to look back at him over her left shoulder, her eyes half-lidded, and then she felt his left arm twist her left leg up so that her weight was on her head and right shoulder.

"I think this bed may not last much longer if you fuck me like that," she observed.

He pulled his shiny cock from her gaping cunt and then sat on the edge of the bed. Beatrice sat down on his lap, and her cunt lips parted as his prick split them asunder. She leaned in until her nose almost touched his, and he felt the outer lips of her muff rub on his knob. Her mouth brushed his, and her titanic breasts pressed into his chest, nipple to nipple. He held her tightly as she started to slide back and forth along the full length of his shaft. His cock and balls glistened with a liberal coating of her juices, then she shifted her hips slightly and impaled herself on him until every inch was inside. The deeply aroused man tingled all over as he felt his cock penetrate her softness. Their eyes were glued to each other in deep concentration as they remained still, their loins as one.

"Fuck me, My Lady. I beg thee."

The revenant woman arched her body so that her mammoth tits pushed up into the air. Beads of sweat slipped down between her massive cleavage and dripped onto his stomach. The cheeks of her buttocks clenched, as did her cunt walls, as she rode on his tool. His eyes devoured her gorgeous body as she trailed her fingers down his smooth chest. Her perfectly shaped boobs bounced lightly over her slender frame as she fucked him with slow strokes, each movement designed to excite and please. Then, things became more frantic as she rode up and down with ever-increasing speed. Each downward stroke caused her bum to caress his balls, and she wiggled her bottom on his rod so that he was squeezed by her narrow walls. He cried out and, to control her passion, held her by the hips and thrust upward deep inside the wanton woman.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she yelled, as she was bumped on his lap like a doll.

She tossed her head back, and he moved his hand to her clit and rubbed as she rode on him. He could see her dark brown eyes were ablaze with raw lust and need. As she gulped for air, her mouth was wide open. Her whole body repeatedly shook, her hips thrusting as she came in a series of powerful releases driven by her almost brutal assault on my manhood. Thomas let loose a growl as her contracting pussy pulled from him his glorious orgasm. With rivers of sweat flowing from his chest, he clutched her tiny waist as he flooded her well-battered cum with rivers of cum. Lady Beatrice rode their mutual climaxes like a wave, cresting and rolling like the surf.

"Truly wondrous. I grow stronger with each passing second."

She wanted more. More semen. More sperm. She was feeling more vibrant and more energetic than in the last hundred years or more. But to step abroad a fourth time would be impossible. She would wait, continue to stare down from the wall in her never-ending quest for that which would make her endure. As long as the painting endured, alas.

Thomas said nothing, merely looking down at the beautiful young woman he held in his arms. He gently stroked her golden hair as their naked bodies pressed closely together. They remained in post-coital bliss for a few more minutes before the vision rose from the bed. Thomas lifted his limp form in time to see a thickening white haze enveloping his true love, and he reached out in a futile gesture.

"Wait, my love. Leave me not."

"Fair thee well, my Knight. We shall meet no more."

Thomas blinked hard as he failed to focus on her haunted form, and in a trice, the maiden didst wink out of existence.

x

Thomas had served his purpose. The intensity of her feelings he had stirred in her bosom as he filled her reminded her of him. The one and only. During their brief betrothal. The Lord and Lady had sex countless times. Percy was the consummate lover, and she was nothing more than a whore in bed for him. He had brought out the best together with the unprincipled in her, such an exemplary way he had in satisfying her needs. He had touched her soul, and the incredible connection he had made with her would outlive death. She would deign to return again and again.

END