I was joyful. I was so full of the thought of my Louie that the thought never struck me that part of my joy might arise from the fact that she could no longer stand in my way toward a certain delightful little cunt, that that cunt was between Fanny Selwyn’s thighs. I say I did not think consciously of Fanny but as my story will now tell, I had no Louie to raise a warning finger and say, “Not into that cunt, but into mine only, must your prick glide, Charlie!”
Whilst thus walking up and down in the verandah, looking abstractedly at the shrubs and flowers in my garden, I all of a sudden I noticed a butterfly, a large yellow, swallow tailed butterfly, with black and red markings, hovering in a most becoming manner over something which I could not see. I still had my helmet on, and I went to see what could be attracting him. There, on the leaf of a shrub, was a female butterfly of the same species, with wings drooped and sometimes quivering, and tail imploringly lifted, as she courted her admirer to come to closer caresses. But the male seemed delighted to find her so voluptuously inclined, while he, with great self-restraint, could raise her desire to still higher burning point. He would only flutter down, so that she could feel the air from his beating wings, and then just as she expected to feel his sweet weight on her back, he would soar a foot or two higher, above her. In vain did the poor love-sick, burning female shift from leaf to flower, from flower to leaf, as though to find a couch which should prove irresistible to her cruel tormentor. He would not approach her nearer. At last she suddenly flew and hid behind a bush. The male missed her and seemed much put out. He flew here, he flew there, in evidently great anxiety until he found her. But oh! ungrateful insect! Instead of giving her what she evidently begged for so earnestly, so hard, he resumed his teasing, tantalizing maneuvers, until at last, outraged and disgusted, the female took sudden and serious flight and swiftly disappeared around the corner of my bungalow. The male seemed to take it quite hardly this time. He found her once, he would of course find her again. So he did not seem to trouble himself much until, having been very cool in his search without success, he suddenly became intensely agitated. He flew here, there, everywhere, keenly looking, eagerly searching, but he found her not, for she was gone. Gone! It was really remarkably curious to see the expression of real grief and disappointment which the vain butterfly now evinced, but it was to no purpose, his abused love had vanished, and he would never fuck her. After a while he flew off in another direction, well punished for his cruelty.
This little scene of love, passion, desire, cruelty, disappointment, and well merited punishment excited me greatly. I did not there and then take the lesson home to myself, as regards my behaviour towards Fanny Selwyn, but afterwards I remembered it and thought how very apt it was. I did not lose Fanny Selwyn’s darling little cunt, it was not because I deserved a better fate than the male butterfly, but because my adored Goddess Venus had decreed that my service to her must be performed in that adorable temple. I claim no need of praise for having fucked Fanny.
I went back to my seat and lit a cheroot, and thought of my Louie’s letter, and the butterflies, and while thus in a kind of delightful dream, I heard footsteps, and looking up I saw Lavie come down the verandah towards me.
“Ah! Lavie, good morning! How are you old chap? Sit down!”
“No thank you, Devereaux,” said he with a half sigh.
“Why, what is the matter with you, Lavie? You sigh like a calf kicked away by its mother. Has Jumali, or any other one, given you the clap?”
“Ah no! Please don’t talk that way. I am in bad spirits this morning.”
“Why?”
“Oh! I don’t know!”
“Bosh! My dear fellow, your liver must be out of order Go home and take a dose of black draught, or better, sit down and have a cigar and a peg, and tell me all the news.”
“Ah! Devereaux, you rattle on! You are a happy chap! You never are in bad spirits.”
“Except that time when I fancied my prick would never stand again, eh Lavie?”
“I forgot that,” said he with a sickly smile.
“So you see I am sometimes in the dumps, Lavie.”
Lavie said nothing. He looked real pale and worn out, as if he had not slept all night. He sat down heavily on the chair, and as he did so he groaned and covered his eyes with his hands.
“Now Lavie!” said I, seriously, “there is something the matter with you. Come! out with it! I must be your doctor now. Tell me what it is.”
But for some minutes he remained as he was, then slowly raising his head he looked at me with the queerest expression and said, “Devereaux, I can trust you! You swear you won’t tell a soul if I tell you what it is?”
“Of course!” I replied, wondering what on earth it could be.
“Well!” said he, speaking extremely slow, “I love Fanny Selwyn!”
“Good God!” cried I, roaring with laughter, “is that all? But, man alive, if you are in love it should make you frisky and not as gloomy as you are, like a sick cat!”
“Ah! but she does not love me,” he groaned.
“How do you know?”
“Oh! I know it well, too well!”
“But, my dear fellow, can you tell me why you know it so well? Perhaps I may be able to give you some comfort, if you will treat me as your mental physician, and tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
Lavie groaned, leant his elbow on his hands, hid his face in his hands, and at last he said, evidently with an effort, “Last Sunday evening she would not walk with me to church.”
I roared with laughter! It was so superb! A young lady does not walk to church with a gentleman who admires her, and thereby proves that she does not love him!
Well, I heard the whole of his story, which was, that up at Cherat he had been very much struck with Fanny Selwyn, and in secret he had been fanning the spark of love within him, which had at last burst out into flame. He had indeed never shone Fanny any marked attention, but as she never seemed to avoid him, always spoke kindly and politely to him, he imagined she adopted his quiet way of showing his admiration, and that, in due course, she would give him to understand that she quite understood and that she was quite ready to marry him. But on that unlucky Sunday evening, he was sitting in his verandah without his coat on, expecting he would see Fanny and her sisters pass on their way to church, and if he called out they would wait, as they had done on previous occasions, until he had got his coat on, for it was very hot, and he did not wish to put that garment on a moment sooner than was absolutely necessary. But Oh! grief! dismay! horror! Fanny would not wait, and not only did she not wait, but, when he hurried out after her, he saw her and her sisters running. Yes, actually running away! It killed this poor heart! His hopes were violently dashed to the ground! There was nothing in life worth living for now, it was plain that Fanny did not love him.
I listened with ever increasing amazement. Hitherto I had looked upon Lavie as a particularly sensible fellow.
But the story he told me, and his reasoning, were absolutely childish, and proved him, when in love, at all events, to be an egregious ass and fool. I however liked him a deal too much not to feel sorry for him, and I set to work to comfort him, and succeeded in doing so, by telling him that accepting his story as absolutely true, it only proved that Fanny Selwyn amused herself by giving him a chase after her, and I admitted that she was a fine enough girl for any man to take some little trouble in trying to run after, and I wondered that she had not been snapped up, young as she was, not quite seventeen, a year ago.
But, do what I would, I could not screw Lavie’s courage up to going at once, to see her (she lived only just across the road, within seventy yards of. my bungalow), declare himself and find out what her real feelings were towards him. He flunked it, I told him, in vain, that faint heart never yet won fair lady. All I could persuade him to do was to go and see Colonel and Mrs. Sel
wyn, and see whether they would countenance his suit. To this, at last, he assented, and went off leaving me more than astonished at his pusillanimity. For Lavie was a man of strong passions, an ardent fucker; he had a reputation among Jumali and her companions, of being one of the very best pokes in all Fackabad; and I should have thought that where his prick led the heart, his courage would have followed. For it was evident to me that he was much more cunt struck with Fanny Selwyn than smitten with what we mean by the honorable term love.
Whilst I was still thinking over this astounding announcement of his, and inwardly congratulating myself on my being free in the form of responsibility towards Fanny, he returned, his face wearing the appearance of satisfaction. He had seen the Colonel and his wife, and they had been very kind. They said they could, not urge Fanny to marry him, but they had no objection to his doing so himself. That their girls should choose for themselves, and if Fanny chose to be his wife, they would not say no. But when I asked him had he, there and then, asked to see Fanny, he said he had not—another day would do! Gods alive! I did my best to make him go at once, but it was of no use. He was satisfied to a certain degree and would live on what hopes he had extracted from the permission he had been granted by Fanny’s Papa and Mama! Well! I knew Fanny better than he did, and I said to myself that Fanny would not thank him for asking Papa and Mama before asking her. Nevertheless I hoped against hope that she would take him.
Why? Why? Ah! a smile comes the more I look back on the past, the more did I think it impossible that I could have even a chance in Fanny’s heart. She had deliberately called me a fool. She had, in a hundred of little acid feminine ways, shown me that she despised me and I believed that she would be more than delighted to say something sharply cutting if I ever showed that I sought her love once more again. When a girl offers herself, take her, for she won’t be likely to ask you afterwards, my dear male friends! Again, although my faith in Lavie had been rudely shaken by his asinine ideas of conduct, I thought he would make Fanny a good husband. He was essentially a gentleman; he had a good profession at his back; and I knew he would fuck her to her heart’s content; and when a woman is well fucked she is always contented and happy.
I have known so many instances of girls marrying against their wills, going to the altar, to the nuptial couch, perfect victims, becoming quite happy women, simply and solely because their husbands turned out to be first class fuckers. This is absolute gospel and. my gentle readers may believe it.
I was sitting reading Louie’s delightful, loving, passionate letter for the fiftieth time, my prick standing deliciously all up my belly, under the buttons of my trousers as it thought of the dear cunt it had so often fucked and spent in, when I was suddenly astonished at seeing Mrs. Selwyn and Fanny walking into my room unannounced. It was very hot and I was surprised at seeing Mrs. Selwyn, who was so delicate, expose herself so much to the sun.
“Oh! Mrs. Selwyn! What on earth has made you come over here in this blazing sun? If you wanted me, why did you not send word for me? Here, sit down under the punkah! Here is a chair! There now! Tell me what I can do for you, and you know I will do it.”
Mrs. Selwyn looked at Fanny and smiled; Fanny looked at me with the queerest expression of half fun, half earnest, in her glorious violet eyes. She looked extremely pretty. She had not lost any of the fresh color she had brought down in her face from Cherat. Clad in a thin muslin dress her bosom was that of a glorious nymph. Its two little mountains, evidently much grown since I had seen them bare and uncovered some months before, were swelling out in the most voluptuously tempting manner on either side. Her well rounded and beautifully shaped thighs were equally well shown off by the soft folds of her dress, and her lovely little feet and ankles, crossed in front of her, ended a fine pair of well developed legs, which I did not wonder Lavie would like to open and take his pleasure between. Fanny seemed to me altogether more beautiful this day than I had ever seen her before. But I looked upon her as never to be mine, and so schooled was I in this thought, that much as I admired her, my prick grew none the stiffer, and was standing simply and solely for the sweetest cunt between my Louie’s thighs, thousands of miles away.
“Now, Mrs. Selwyn, please tell me to what I owe this unexpected and pleasant visit?”
Mrs. Selwyn looked at Fanny and smiled. Fanny returned the look and did not smile; on the contrary she looked rather put out.
“Well! Captain Devereaux, I, that is Fanny and I, have a crow to pluck with you. What made you send Dr. Lavie on a wooing errand to my house?”
“I never sent him at all, Mrs. Selwyn.”
“Then he told me an untruth, for he certainly told Colonel Selwyn and me that you had sent him to ask permission to pay his addresses to Fanny.”
“Well!” I said, “there is just this much truth in that assertion, Mrs. Selwyn, and I will tell you just what took place between Lavie and me this morning. I was sitting in the verandah outside there, when he came, looking the picture of misery and woe. For some time he would not tell me what was the matter with him, but he sat and held his head in his hands and sighed and groaned in the most dismal manner. At last he said that he loved Miss Selwyn.”
Both Mrs. Selwyn and Fanny here burst out with merry laughter, Fanny’s being sweet, silvery and hearty. There was no unkind ring to it, but it was evident that she was greatly amused.
“Yes! and then!”
“I said there was no reason to be so miserable, and he said, ‘But she wouldn’t walk to church with me last Sunday evening.”
“The fool!” cried Fanny, again going off into another merry peal.
“That is what I thought too. I had a long talk with him, and asked him did Miss Selwyn know of his feelings towards her. He said he expected she did. I asked him had he spoken to her. He said no. Well, I said, if you have not done that yet, you had better do so as soon as possible, and not go imagining all kinds of things. But he seemed to be frightened at the idea. At last I suggested that at least he might see you, Mrs. Selwyn, and the Colonel, and see if you approved of his proposal. The fact was I did not know what to do with him. He acted on my hint and went, and apparently received a satisfactory reply, for he seemed much relieved when he came back to me.”
For a moment or two neither of the two ladies spoke. Fanny looked at me half reproachfully. Mrs. Selwyn was evidently cogitating something. My prick, no longer interested in Fanny’s cunt, and the current of its thoughts recalled from Louie’s sweet secret charms, had begun to drop a bit, and I waited to hear the next thing.
“Well! Neither Colonel Selwyn nor I would object to Dr. Lavie. He is a nice fellow, a thorough gentleman, and no one could have been more attentive or kinder than he was to poor Amy, when she was so ill after the attack of those horrid Afghans at Cherat, but then both. Colonel Selwyn and I think it only right and fair to let Fanny choose for herself. We cannot bring ourselves to advise her at all. Anybody may come forward as a suitor, so long as he is a gentleman, and, has sufficient means to keep a wife, so far as we parents are concerned. So Fanny must speak for herself in this matter.”
I looked inquiringly at Fanny, who colored a little, and then turned pale, whilst the movements of her lovely breasts showed that some thoughts, perhaps not pleasant ones, were agitating her.
“All I can say at present,” said she, speaking slowly and deliberately, “is that I find he is not the man I can marry!” She laid some little stress on the word marry.
“Perhaps,” said I, “when you have thought of Dr. Lavie you may get to think him eligible, Miss Fanny.”
“I don’t think so,” said she. “I like Dr. Lavie well enough as a friend, but I do not feel as though I could ever love him, and I could never have a man unless I loved him.”
“Well! give him a chance,” said I. “Hear what he has to say, and perhaps when you examine him from the point of view he desires, you may see more in him than you do now.”
“I suppose,” said she, a little sharply’ “you would be de lighted to see me take him, Captain Devereaux?”
“I would if I were sure you would be happy with him, Miss Selwyn, but not otherwise. Lavie is a great friend of mine, and I know him to be a real good fellow. I think he is a little off his head just now, but when I look at you I am not surprised. Is not Fanny looking really very pretty, Mrs. Selwyn?”
Both mother and daughter looked as pleased as could be at this compliment, which, however, was not said merely to please, for Fanny did really look uncommonly lovely, and I had spoken the words quite unaffectedly, and spontaneously.
“I often have wondered,” I continued, “that Fanny has not been snapped up long ago! Such a pretty girl, a girl so nice, so desirable in every way, should by this time have had a great number of adorers, and several offers of marriage. I cannot make out where the men’s eyes are.”
“Oh! Fanny can tell you if she likes,” responded the mother, “that she has had two or three offers. There was one gentleman in particular who was very much in earnest. Dr. Jardine, who on the march down proposed for her.”
“Dr. Jardine!” I exclaimed.
“Yes.” He asked Fanny, but she said no, and then he asked the Colonel and me, and tried to persuade her to take him, but we told him we objected to such a course, and if Fanny said no, it meant no as far as we were concerned.”
Erotic Classics II Page 159