Hi there, I would like to sincerely thank those who leave me reviews, to the "guests" to whom I cannot answer in private and to the online reviewers. Thank you very much.

Thanks to Pixie for the proofreading and her kind help.

This little story has two chapters, I hope you enjoy it. Here is chapter one, chapter two will be posted next week. The story is in M because there will be a lemon in chapter two. This one has a bit of a "risqué" scene, but I put it in T.

Married love

1926

Chapter 1

Mr and Mrs Carson were sitting on their sofa by the fire, enjoying the early evening and the end of Elsie's half day off. She was darning one of Charles' socks, while he was reading the newspaper and commenting on some articles. Eventually he had stopped reading and looked at Elsie thoughtfully. She had noticed his gaze on her, but she continued sewing, preparing herself for the questions he would ask. He always had things to ask her when he looked at her like that.

"Elsie ?

- Mmm ?

- Are you happy ?"

She laid her work to one side, it was a much more serious question than she thought.

"Of course I am, Charles. Why are you asking me this ?" He sighed, shook his head and pushed the air out of his hand. He looked upset now and Elsie didn't like it.

"Are you really happy ? About us ? About our union ?

- Charles, what is the matter with you all of a sudden ? Are you doubting my love ? Do you think I look sad ? Am I not happy to spend every half day with you, and to come home to you every night ?

- Noooo !" He now looked almost angry. "Of course not, I don't doubt your feelings for me, or that you're happy with the time we spend together... what I'm trying to ask is..."

He took a deep breath, tugged at his waistcoat, as he did when he was still the butler at Downton and uncomfortable.

He'd pulled on his waistcoat when he'd asked her if she'd like to invest with him in a property, and rent it out so they could have an annuity for their retirement. It had happened again when he had refused her glass of punch as he tried to work up the courage to ask her to marry him, and she had seen him tugging at his garment again when they had finally been able to work out their visions of marriage, their shared desire for a full union with all that it entailed, and Elsie's fear that she was no longer desirable enough for him.

She put her hand on Charles's thigh to try to soothe him and make him understand by this simple gesture that she was there with him, that she would always be on his side and that he could tell her anything. Charles looked at Elsie's small hand on his thigh, he felt the burn of the contact and his brain took him back to a week before, on Elsie's previous half day off.

oOo

Flashback

He had fallen asleep on the sofa, a book in his lap, his head slumped on his double chin. He had woken up with a start when his book had fallen on his foot, hurting like hell. He stretched loudly and looked around for his wife, who was no longer with him. She was not in the kitchen, nor in the garden.

He had then thought that perhaps she had gone to lie in their bed. The thought of her lying in the marriage bed made him blush. He liked to share his nights with her, he liked her to come close to him in her sleep so that he could warm her up, he had even learned to appreciate her cold little feet sticking to his legs and making him jump.

He had arrived silently in their room to find it empty. Elsie wasn't there, but then he'd spotted his wife's clothes piled up on their bed in an untidy heap, which was rather unusual for the always tidy housekeeper of Downton Abbey. He had put his ear to the ground, and a little splash told him that she was in the bathroom, probably lying in the bathtub. His ears had become hot and his cheeks had begun to flush.

He had tiptoed up to the half-open bathroom door and stuck his head through the opening. He had hoped to catch a glimpse of Elsie's skin. She was always so clothed... even her night clothes fell to her ankles. And when he went to her, when he asked for her, it was always at night, the lights were off and she kept her nightgown on.

He hoped to catch a glimpse of her legs, the curve of her hips, the roundness of her chest, the tip of her breasts, and, God forbid, that part of her between her thighs. That place he liked to dive into without daring to linger there. He knew it was soft, warm, cozy and he cursed himself for having such thoughts. What would she say about him if she knew he thought of her in that way ? But he had been interrupted in his musings by a soft sigh from the bathtub.

He had turned his head towards the source of the sound and found Elsie, lying in the bath, naked and beautiful, obviously pleasuring herself.

She couldn't see him, but he had a clear view of her body, of her breasts being caressed by Elsie's hands. She seemed to take great pleasure in pinching the nipples before taking them in hand again, enveloping them completely, then pinching the tips again. He could also see her knees, her legs, sublime and marvellous, and finally her feet resting on the edge of the bathtub. All parts of her body that Charles just wanted to cherish and kiss.

He had been obliged to loosen his tie, he was hot, and part of his anatomy was beginning to manifest itself against this vision.

He had then seen Elsie's right hand drop from the breast she was cuddling and move down, caressing her belly, lingering on her ribs, and sinking into the water between her legs which had made her moan a little louder. He watched intently as she touched herself, as her body moved in response to the rhythm of her hand as it swung against her sex. Oh how he wished then that he could have entered the bathroom, replaced Elsie's small hand with his own larger one and explored her sex with his fingers. How he would have liked to be the one to make her sigh and moan in that way. But he had done absolutely nothing, he had just watched her caress herself. Her left hand went from one breast to the other, her nipples had grown to Charles' astonishment, and she was now pinching them shamelessly. He worried for a few seconds that she would end up hurting herself, but she only moaned again and it was clearly not in pain.

Her right hand was now moving faster, her thighs were pressed together. Charles remarked to himself that he didn't know how she could pleasure herself in this position, she clearly couldn't get her fingers inside her. He saw Elsie's left hand join the first, the palm resting just below her navel while her fingers were slightly spread. And Elsie's right hand kept moving, making her moan louder and louder.

Charles couldn't help but bring his own hand to his trousers, where his desire for her was evident, to try to relieve some of the pressure.

He saw her bring her left hand against her mouth to muffle her cries, as her body tensed, tensed, her hips went up, her right hand still moving on her brown curls between her legs and he had stood there, listening to the softest moans come from his wife's throat. Then he saw her relax back into the water, her throat and chest reddened. He didn't know if it was exertion or pleasure she had felt.

He withdrew as quietly as he had come. He walked over to their bed to try to calm himself and think about what he had just seen. Why wasn't she acting like that with him? Why didn't she moan like that when he was on top of her? He felt angry - at her for depriving him of all that pleasure and especially at him for not knowing how to make her moan like that. No, what he could do was make her sigh with embarrassment and when the moon was full and it lit up their bed slightly, he could even see her wince in pain. He felt shabby and ashamed that he didn't feel able to honour the woman he loved so much, as she deserved.

That night he had not gone to her as he usually did. Elsie had waited for him, she had taken his hand to show him that she was available, but he had simply smiled at her, leaned over her lips to place a simple kiss on them and turned away, not missing the sad look she gave him.

The next day when she had left for her day's work at Downton Abbey, Charles had needed to keep himself busy to avoid thinking about the scene in the bathtub and his wife coming without him. So he had decided to do a massive clean-up, to brick up the cottage from top to bottom. In his shirtsleeves, he had started with the bathroom, scrubbing that cursed bathtub that he now hated, because his wife obviously preferred to take her pleasure with it rather than in his arms.

Once that was done, he'd set about their bedroom, airing out the mattress, changing the sheets, brightening up the fireplace, dusting all their furniture. He was cleaning Elsie's dressing table, he had opened the drawer in which he thought he would find hairpins or other frills. But he'd found letters that all looked like they'd come from the institution where his sister was.

And a book.

A book he had no idea his wife knew the title of. He himself had learned of the book's release accidentally.

He had taken it out of the dressing table, opened it and noticed that several pages were marked. So Elsie had marked the places she thought were important. Maybe the solution was in there, in that unassuming little book with the grey cover. He had sat down on their bed, snug against her cushions, and dutifully began to read the pages, first the ones marked by his wife, and then he had finally devoured them all.

"Marie Stopes' Married Love*" was a real instruction manual for him, he had read it all as if it were a guide to their sex life. He was so ignorant of his wife's body.

His only carnal experiences had been with the wild girls he'd met during his years on stage, and then in brothels three or four times a year when he was still quite young. And these women were only paid to tell him what he wanted to hear and do what he wanted, caring only about male pleasure. And of course, he too indulged in solitary pleasure. But he was then naively convinced that onanism was only for men.

In its pages he had become aware of his ignorance about the sexual act. He had learned, for example, the importance of preparing a woman for sex, that her sex could be moistened without the use of any lubricant. That she had an organ he didn't know existed called the clitoris, which was apparently the centre of female pleasure. And that his wife's body certainly had plenty of places that could make her moan and cum if stimulated. It would be wonderful for both of them.

What a fool he had been, he now found himself so selfish. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. What a terrible experience this must have been for his sweet Elsie. He, who sincerely wanted only her good, realised that he had certainly caused her pain in moments that should have been nothing but pleasure.

No wonder she needed to have her own moments. Now he wanted to talk to her about it. But how to talk about this kind of subject with her ? How to tell her that he only wanted the honour of making her sigh with pleasure ? That he was ready to learn how to touch and please her so that it would be good for her ?

Was she happy ? She certainly was. Fulfilled ? He doubted it now…

oOo

"Charlie ? Charlie, honey are you alright ?"

He was off in his reverie for far too long and Elsie was concerned to see him completely lost in thought. This was not her husband's habit and Charles Carson was a man of habit.

"I saw you in the bath."

It had just come out, he hadn't even thought about it. He just knew they had no time to waste. They were old now and he wanted to make the most of the time he had left with his wife, to learn to please her. So he had spoken, without thinking.

"What do you mean you saw me in the bath ?

- Last week I saw you in the bath. »

Charles was watching her, not wanting to look away when this was surely the most important discussion of their marriage.

Elsie looked suddenly quite downcast. Her shoulders had slumped, her gaze fled from him and she had clutched her arms to her chest.

"I understand Charles, I... I should have locked the door or woken you up to warn you. I thought that even if you woke up and came in... We're married so I..."

She had gotten up to get away from him, she remembered what she had done in the bathtub last week, but now she felt like she had done something wrong, she felt dirty and most of all she was sure that she had really and definitely disgusted Charles with her. She could feel the tears beginning to tingle at the corners of her eyes, and she could no longer look at her husband.

"Do I disgust you that much, Charles ?" she had said in a whisper, her eyes still downcast.

"What ? Why are you asking me that ?" Charles was aghast.

"Elsie, how can you ask me that question ? How can you think for one moment that you disgust me ? My God, my love, what a terrible husband I am !"

He held his head in his hands, cringing with guilt again.

Elsie wiped away the tears that had now begun to roll down her cheeks, listening to Charles continue to speak.

"How could we be so bad at marriage when we were such a good team at work ? Things were so simple between the two of us Elsie. Gosh, I'm so sorry darling.

- I don't know, Charles. I think it's not the same thing. We're emotionally involved in this. Maybe we can start being honest with each other, like we did when we worked together ?"

She had stopped crying, which relieved Charles. He really didn't want to hurt her feelings. But it was necessary to get to the bottom of it. They had to tell each other what was on their minds so they could finally start a new life of fulfilment and pleasure. He had enough confidence in them. So he let her speak, tell him everything she had kept inside.

"Tell me, Charles, do you like me ? Do you want me sometimes ? Because... Oh God, why does it have to be so hard to say ? You see, when we're in bed together, I feel like you only come to me out of obligation. To do your marital duty. You don't undress me, and you don't want to see me. You don't kiss me... You barely brush against me, except for..." She made a hand gesture that was supposed to sum it all up.

Their sexual relations summed up in one hand gesture.

How sad, Charles thought. And how sad that she could believe all that.

"And I don't know what to do, Charlie. Of the two of us, you are certainly the more experienced. And I want to be a good wife to you, because I love you, and because, as God is my witness, I want you Charlie. But I... I don't know. And I'm sorry I embarrassed you, you must be disgusted after seeing me in the bathtub. But sometimes Charles, the desire for you, for us, is too much for me so I..."

Her words fell silent in his throat as he rose to join her in a long stride to hold her close.

"Oh my Elsie. Never, do you hear me ? I could never feel disgust for you. Never will you make me feel ashamed. I'm so sorry my love, to think you could believe such a thing breaks my heart. And I want you Elsie, I want you, every day, every moment. And if I haven't shown you more interest or consideration, it's because I... I don't know Elsie. I was afraid that my desire would frighten you, that you'd find me depraved or something. And I don't know how to do it... I'm... you say I'm the more experienced, and you're certainly right, but from a technical point of view only. I've never done this with someone I love, with someone I really care about, with someone I want so much it's painful sometimes... you know ? What I'm trying to tell you, Elsie, darling, is that... um... when I saw you in the bath, when I saw what you were doing. I saw you... um..." He tugged at his waistcoat.

"I saw you caressing yourself. I didn't want to be a spectator of that. But you were so beautiful, I felt like I was drunk while I watched you do it. I had to struggle not to join you, and make love to you in that bathtub. But I didn't dare. So it made me realise that when I come to you, even though you never say no to me. You don't react like that. And seeing you in that bathtub taking so much pleasure, alone, made me realize that I was a lousy lover who didn't know how to please his wife. I love you Elsie, I love you body and soul and I would like to share many things with you. So I wanted to ask you if you would like to... um..." He tugged at his poor waistcoat again.

"If you would teach me, guide me to make you feel good, teach me to love you, to make love to you."

Elsie had thrown her arms around him, pressing as close to him as her body could manage. She was holding him so tightly that she could choke him. The words he had said had just lifted a huge weight from her body, and now she finally felt beautiful and desirable. She loosened her grip slightly, looked at her husband, stroked his face and took his hand to lead him into their bedroom.

"Does it bother you that it's not quite dark, Charlie ?"

He swallowed loudly.

"Not at all Elsie, not at all.

- Will you teach me ? Will you teach me how to touch you too ? How to love you ?

- Mmm mmmm..." he tried to nod.

oOo

TBC…

Reviews are always welcome.

See you next week for chapter two and the "M" rated things. It's gonna be hot...

Please remember that English is not my first language at all, so be kind and forgiving.