*Insert meaningful authors note here*

Some Corah smut for you all; I wrote this little while ago and never got round to publishing it… but I've done some editing since then to get my hand in, in preparation for all the writing I'm going to be doing in December. Thanks to Wil (ladynoblesong) for reading this through when, I might add, it was absolutely littered with horrible mistakes-

Warning…

Lots of shenanigans. Also, I do use the dreaded "c-word"; I love it, some people share my view, and then there's those of you who hate it… just substitute it with any other metaphor or synonym you want- I'm certain I only use it the once.

Enjoy.

Cora Crawley never did anything for herself. Or rather, shall I say, she never did anything for herself if there was someone ready and willing to do it for her; as, of course, was the manner in which a woman of Lady Grantham's status was accustomed to being treated. Waited on hand and foot; whatever she desired, be it tea or a telegram, it was no more than a bells ring away. There was, however, something she craved that could not be served on a tray, nor passed on or over by any old member of the household. No, this was an itch that needed to be scratched with more care.

"Ah, O'Brien if you would be so kind, I'd like to get ready for bed now", it was a simple enough statement in itself. Nothing amiss, nothing awry; no duty alluded to that landed outside of what the Countess' position afforded her. After she was undressed however, a completely different story would unfold, as it had done almost every night for the last 15 years…

Cora sighed, sinking down on the silk clad chaise lounge; stretching her arms above her head, she feigned a quiet groan of tiredness. Sliding her arms out of the dusky pink dressing gown her maid had regimentally dressed her in just minutes before, she lay her head against the wooden frame and offered her maid a small smile, "Now O'Brien, if you would be so kind…", mirroring words from before however, this time, Cora was asking for something far less innocent, something that even the Lady of Grantham had no right to demand.

O'Brien crossed the room to her mistress, who was now hiking her cambric nightgown over her knees. The maid took in the sight before her. Inch by pale inch, more of Cora's legs became visible; long and slender, her calves had smooth definition and her delicate feet, positioned as if she were tiptoeing, looked as though anything but the softest leather would crush them. O'Brien couldn't help but muse on how well the lady's frame befitted her rank; she doubted the aristocrat physically capable of a hard day's work. The nightdress was now bunched up around the older woman's hips revealing her somewhat lacy undergarments. Tied with a light blue ribbon, the ruffled shorts were all the range in London, and the style was so embellished that even a Gibson Girl would perhaps have felt the statement of femininity over-emphasised. Never the less, when Cora began to tug on the silk bow that would undermine the garment's modesty, Sarah new exactly what to do. Getting down onto her knees in front of her mistress, the maid slowly reached forward and arrested the ribbons from Cora's long velveteen fingers. Divesting the American of her underwear was the easiest of her tasks.

"Wait, let your hair down first", Cora murmured, a command not a suggestion, "You know I like you with your hair down."

"Milady, if you please, it'll be awful trouble putting it back up again, so if it's all the same to you, I'd rather keep it up", it was the first time O'Brien had spoken since she had finished dressing her charge; her accent in somewhat juxtaposition to the softness of her tone.

"If it was all the same to me O'Brien, I wouldn't have asked", there was a dangerous undertone to her Ladyships voice now. A combination of frustration and a need to achieve satisfaction quickly, and with as little obstruction as possible often made the Countess unreasonable, if not cruel. It was a stain on her usually flawless character to be sure, however in matters of the self Cora Crawley was nothing if not selfish.

"As you wish, milady", and with that Sarah began to unpin her hair, nimble fingers making light work of releasing her auburn locks from the confines of the austere bun. Raking her fingers through the tresses she unknotted it as best she could, knowing it would be far better for her later if Cora came up against no tangles when she ran her own hands through it. Sarah's hair fell midway down her back, an atypical length for the time; a combination of waves and curls and so very different to the perfectly straight ebony tresses of her mistress. Cora liked that. She enjoyed how wild and messy her maid's hair got after she'd dragged her hands through it; she relished how easily she could yank her head back and savoured the pain she could cause whilst she herself was experiencing nothing but pleasure.

"Good girl", Cora crooned, reaching down and cupping the kneeling woman's cheek, rubbing her thumb across her lips before slowly sliding it into her receptive mouth. Dutifully Sarah sucked, closing her eyes as her mistress' grip became tighter; whatever Lady Grantham wanted, she accommodated. "Such a good girl", the Countess purred again, "Now, as they say in those novels, why don't we put that mouth of yours to better use…"

Giggling at her own joke, Cora removed her hand from O'Brien's face; she let out a breathy sigh as she lost contact with her maid's warm mouth, however it was quickly replaced by a moan of anticipation. Moisture was beginning to pool between her legs and she could feel a dull throbbing in her clit. The Countess was suddenly very grateful to be sitting down as the thought of where Sarah's tongue was shortly going to be was making her go weak at the knees. Frantically she grabbed hold of her underwear, partly slipping it down her legs, before letting Sarah take over once it was past her knees.

Sarah placed gentle hands on her mistress' creamy thighs, pushing her legs apart and shuffling on her knees into the space she'd created for herself. She could see Cora was coming undone. The pink lips of her sex were glistening with arousal, hot, wet and inviting, and the Countess herself was making muted whimpering noises.

"Oh god Sarah, touch me", her eyes were closed and her head lolled back against the chaise, desperation was heavy in her voice.

Sarah pressed her lips to inside of Cora's thigh, lavishing the skin with a wet kiss, "Say please"

"You forget your place, O'Brien", despite the fact that her words were said in no more than a frustrated groan, there was nothing playful about the statement. Cora began to whimper again, the heat and throbbing of her cunt were too much for her to bear, she needed Sarah's mouth on her right now, "Sarah, for the love of god, just touch me!"

"Per'aps, you should do it yourself your Ladyship", irritation and hurt were the overwhelming emotions Sarah was experiencing, and with her words she motioned to get to her feet. It was only Cora's quickly extending hands, that rooted themselves in her hair and on her shoulder, forcing her back onto her knees, that prevented her escape.

"Don't you dare, you little slut. Don't you dare get me worked up like this and leave me", the Countess licked her trembling lips, it was desire and a need for release that was spurring her on, never in her right mind would she have said something so crude or degrading.

Sarah however wasn't to know that, and staring up into her mistress' big blue eyes, with their pupils dilated beyond any form of normality, she couldn't help feeling hatred bubbling up inside her, "Of course not, milady."

With that she leant forward and pressed her lips to Cora's clit.

The Countess cried out, the contact felt like a release in itself; she arched her back, rubbing her breasts through the thin fabric of her nightgown, her nipples were hard and, had she not being so consumed by the sensations between her legs, she might have made a note to have Sarah give them a little bit of attention too. As it was, her husband could have walked in for all she cared, and she still wouldn't have let her maid halt her ministrations. She could feel Sarah's tongue teasing at her clit, interspersed with the occasional nip from her teeth. As fingers began to gently caress her entrance, Cora wondered if she'd died and gone to heaven.

The noises the American was making could only be described as indecent, and Sarah could feel every whimper and every moan was punctuated by quivering trembles; it was even more satisfying knowing she was the cause. Placing one final kiss against her mistress' clit, she pulled back, replacing her lips with left thumb so as to not deprive the Countess entirely of stimulation. Rubbeing the fore and middle fingers of her right hand over Cora's entrance, she savoured the look of open mouthed bliss on Cora's face before slowly sliding inside her, "How many fingers does your Ladyship suppose she can take tonight?"

Any attempt Cora could have made to respond would have been futile; instead she let out a noise halfway between a whine and a groan, thrusting her hips forward.

Sarah smirked, adding a third finger; her mistress was more than wet enough. Then, slowly she curled her fingers round, feeling for that one spot that would send the Countess wild.

The sensation of having Sarah's fingers inside her was exquisite, and all Cora could do to show her appreciation was moan as loudly as she could without alerting the rest of the household. It was in moments like this that Cora wished the two of them were alone, completely alone, that way she could really show the younger woman the extent of her enjoyment; she would have happily screamed for her if she could. Suddenly pleasure exploded throughout her body, she let out a stifled cry, and she knew if she could get the maid's mouth back on her she'd soon have her release.

Sarah felt fingers tangle in her hair, pulling her closer; she knew what Cora wanted, "You want my tongue on you 'gain, milady?", she punctuated every word by putting pressure on her g-spot.

"Y-yes", the Countess gasping for air, her eyes closed, her head thrown back.

"Then say please", it was with great relish that the lady's maid played her cards, "Say please 'n I'll give you exactly what you want, milady"

At this point Cora was too far gone to care, "Please, Sarah, please"

Momentarily Sarah relished in her victory of defiance, before giving her mistress exactly what she wanted.

As the Sarah began sucking on her clit once more it all became too much for the Countess; she let out a long shuddering moan as her body began to convulse, her walls contracted around Sarah's fingers and, even in the aftermath of her orgasm, every throb of her clit resulted in a high pitched whimper.

Satisfied with her mistress' acquiescence, and naturally feeling somewhat certain she had more than performed her duties, Sarah staggered to her feet; her knees protesting the amount of time she'd already spent on the floor. Cora usually sorted herself out from this point, and this lull was usually her cue to leave. It was, however, when turning towards the door that she heard a faint murmur escape the other woman's lips.

"What was that, milady?"

"Kiss me…"

Sarah spun round to face the Countess, not sure whether she should believe her ears. Cora was staring back at her, bright blue eyes wide and shining, "I said, kiss me"

Sarah hesitated. This was a first. Slowly she made her way back to the chaise upon which Cora still sat, and as she did so, the American extended her arms towards her, pulling her into an embrace. Sarah felt the press of soft, full lips against her own, she felt kind fingers tangling in her hair this time and in between kisses she heard the Countess whisper, "You've always been so good to me.

So good."

A/N: Review, like, I don't mind, I just hope you got a little bit of satisfaction from this ;) x

Love,

Whisked/mabel-lane-fox