“Well! my bride and I went to Brighton to spend the first night or so of our honeymoon. All the way in the train we had to appear calm, to speak to one another as naturally as could be, but I could see that Louie was not quite the same as she had been before that day. Had we been going to Brighton unmarried, and not as we were, bride and bridegroom, I am sure she would have talked and laughed in a free and open manner, whereas now some thought, which I could easily guess at, was oppressing her. That thought was, of course, that her whole life was going to change now, that I had rights over her body now, which I had never had before, and that, surely, in a very few hours time I should be exercising them. She told me afterwards she had often longed for that time to come, but now, when it had come, she felt nervous.”
“No wonder,” said Amy, again pressing her cunnie with a trembling hand. I saw the movement, quick as it was, and put my prick more comfortable under the buttons of my trousers, an act which Fanny saw and which she responded to by a hard squeeze of my hand.
“Ah! no wonder! as you say, Amy. And yet, if our courtships were more natural and less conventional than they are, there would be none of this unnatural restraint. Why, I loved my Louie as I had never loved a girl before. There was not a part of her I did not ardently desire to kiss, to devour! The very ground she stood on, the chairs she sat in, were all sacred to me! In fact, I loved her! I had fancied I had loved others before, but I now knew, for the first time, what love was. Ah! it is not all a matter of the heart alone, but of the body also. I wonder if either of you two girls have any notion of what passion is? When all one’s being is stirred up by the thought of the presence of the beloved, of the desired one! I suppose, in fact, I know, that girls do perceive much physical excitement when the passion comes on, but in man the change from quiescence to storm and fury is enormously marked. Yet, in our cold way of making love, which is the conventional way, it would appear to be proper to forget all ideas of knowledge of difference of sex, or even the meaning of marriage. A lover may speak of his Mistress’ beautiful face, her beautiful figure, or her beautiful arms, feet, but he must not acknowledge to have even thought of her beautiful bust, her beautiful breasts, her beautiful hips, or her beautiful legs, or thighs, and never, under any circumstances, of that most exquisite and beautiful charm of charms, which, made for him and for him alone, lies between those beautiful thighs.”
“Oh! Captain Devereaux! For shame!” cried out Amy.
“Do be quiet!” exclaimed Fanny. “Captain Devereaux is quite right Amy, and you know it.”
Amy laughed and seemed uneasy and remained silent. “Well! I was thinking, thinking, all the way down to Brighton, of all those charming charms, which were now mine, and which I was literally burning to possess myself of, but, ever and anon, would come the thought, how might I do it. How am I to dare to lay a hand on my Louie, which must startle her modesty, even if she has ever let her thoughts run on the consummation of our marriage, a thing I thought not at all unlikely; for, modest and virtuous as my Louie was I knew, from her general demeanor, that, although innocent, she could not be ignorant.
Afterwards Louie told me that similar thoughts had been plaguing her. She longed for me and for my marital and lover’s embraces on the nuptial couch with great ardor, but she dreaded the first steps. Oh! she longed to give herself to me, she said, ‘but she feared that in doing so, she might lose something of that valued respect for her which I had so constantly shown. She feared to be immodest. Yet how could she give me her naked charms without doing that which from her babyhood she had learnt to look upon as immodest to a degree. No wonder that we felt an unnatural degree of restraint. A kind of fear of one another, for, believe me, although especially when passion drives hard two lovers can be absolutely naked to one another without a particle of immodesty, yet it is only too possible, without such passion, such nakedness, which ought to be so glorious, and so divine, may be degraded to indecency and nastiness.”
“I cannot imagine it ever being anything else!” exclaimed Amy, vigorously caressing herself between her thighs. “However—”
“Amy, I wish to goodness you would be quiet, and let Captain Devereaux tell his story!” cried Fanny, petulantly. She had been now walking with her own hand constantly on her thrilling little cunt, quite indifferent whether I noticed it or not. I pretended not to do so, however.
“Well!” I resumed, “at last we arrived at Brighton. Having eaten our dinner, we tried to appear calm to one another. Louie even having ventured to sit on my knees, with her arms round my neck, but careful not to press her bosom against mine; having exhausted every available topic of conversation and, I admit, having behaved like a pair of fools, so terribly afraid were we of one another, I ventured to hint that it was time to go to bed. ‘Oh!’ said Louie hiding her hot and blushing face in my neck, ‘not yet, Charlie darling! It is not half past ten! I never go to bed so early!’ Then for the first time did I pluck up a little courage. I kissed her over her lips and I whispered, ‘But this is our wedding night, my darling, darling Louie.’ ”
She gave me one quick little look, then cast down her eyes, gave me a kiss and whispered, “Well, don’t come up too soon, there’s a good fellow. Oh! Charlie! I wish it was tomorrow!’ she jumped up and ran out of the room.
Thus, having ventured to hint at what was to follow, and as it was our wedding night, it inspired me with some degree of courage, and with courage came desire, in floods far greater than I had yet experienced with Louie. I literally burned to have her! How long would it be before I might go up? There was a clock on the mantelpiece; and it seemed to take an hour to mark one minute. At the end of ten minutes I could stand it no longer. I was in real pain, for you must know, if passion means pleasure, it means pain too, until it is indulged.”
Here Fanny looked at me and pressed my hand. By God! I wished Amy anywhere but where she was. My voice trembled as I resumed:
“On going upstairs to our bedroom, I saw Louie’s pretty little boots outside the door. I hailed this as a good omen. I picked them up and kissed them, and then, giving a little warning knock, and without waiting to be told to come in, I turned the handle and entered. Louie was in her night dress just getting into bed. She gave a little cry. ‘Oh! You have come sooner than I expected!’ and she huddled herself under the clothes, showing only the upper part of her face. Oh! once she was in bed, I seemed to shake off my most unnatural cowardice. I closed the door and running over to her, I turned the clothes off her face and neck, and I put one arm round her shoulders, and rained the most burning and ardent kisses on her sweet lips, at the same time I slipped my hand into her bosom, and for the first time took possession of the two most beautiful globes which adorned it. Louie did not draw back. She in no way tried to prevent my caressing her there. I was more than tempted to let my hand stray much lower, and to seek for the temple of love of which the closely barred door is to be found at the foot of the forested hill, sacred to the goddess of love!”
“Gracious!” cried Amy, “where and what is that?”
“As if you did not know, Amy!” exclaimed Fanny, indignantly.
“You will soon hear, Amy,” said I. “Well! I did not do so. Louie had both her arms around me and held me tight, but I should have liked to have undone the front of her night dress altogether, and to have kissed the beautiful breasts I had found there, but poor Louie, who would have liked me to have done that too, was still a prey to the struggles of her dying modesty. At last I slipped my hand under her armpit and tickled her. With a little shriek she let me go, but she did not cover herself up any more. She lay looking at me with really longing eyes whilst I rapidly undressed. I put my watch on the table. I managed to get off my clothes, to put on my night shirt, without offending modesty very much, and I was just going round to the other side of the bed to get in, when Louie told me I had not wound my watch, and that she had not wound hers either. ‘Oh!’ I cried, ‘let them go down, my Louie, n
ever mind now!’ ‘No!’ said she, ‘Charlie, darling, don’t let us begin our married life by leaving undone anything which we ought to do.’ ‘Oh! bother!’ To please her I wound up both watches with a hand trembling with excitement and then jumped into bed.”
“Did you not blowout the candle?” asked Amy.
“Amy! if you interrupt anymore,” cried Fanny, angrily.
“I will ask Captain Devereaux not to let you know what happened next.”
“No,” I did not blowout the candle, Amy. Louie said something about it, but I pretended not to hear. I jumped into bed, and put my arms around her, and I hugged her to me. For just a moment she resisted a little stiffly, but the next moment she yielded, she hid her face, which was all on fire, in my neck and whilst I kissed her frantically, I put down my hand and gently drew up the veil, which interposed itself between me and those glorious charms, which could not much longer be kept from me or remain virgin. With as much delicacy as possible I passed my trembling hand over the smooth surface of her exquisite thighs, until I reached the “Bush with Frizzled hair, implicit,” as Milton says.
“Captain Devereaux!” shrieked Amy.
“And finding the sweet entrance to the temple, I caressed it with an ardor which Louie could feel pouring in burning flames from my fingers. All she did, or said, was to hug me closer and murmur, ‘Oh! Charlie! Oh! Charlie!’ Finding her so quiet, I—”
“What?” cried both girls in suffocating tones.
“I begged her to make place for me, and let me worship her with my body, as I promised to do in my marriage vows. Gently she turned on her back, and putting one knee first, and then the other, between hers, I gently, but in the greatest excitement, lowered myself on to her beautiful body, and then awoke every hidden source of pleasure and passion in her as I made the High Priest enter the Holy of Holies. Oh! dear girls, the rapture of that moment! To feel that I really and truly was now the husband of my Louie! That I was, really and truly joined to her, and that the same throb which pulsated in and through her, equally pulsated in and through me! It was a glimpse of heaven! It was love! Love in its very highest fulfillment! Louie gave herself to me without further Restraint—all fear was gone—all ill placed modesty has banished, and before morning light had come, to take the place of that still yielded by the nearly burnt out candles, my Louie lay, perfectly naked, but not red with shame, in my equally perfectly naked embrace. There was’ not a part of our bodies which he hadn’t mutually caressed and gazed upon, and eaten up with kisses, ardent and plentiful! Our sacrifices were without number! We kept no count! But the entire night was spent in revels, which the angels, sexless and passionless, must have envied had they the means of realizing, even in imagination, what they were like!”
Neither Fanny nor Amy had done more than breathe during the last part of this recital, and their steps had grown so short that we hardly moved over the ground. It was evident to me what constrained them moving, was owing to the fact that each of them was trying to control the powerful throbbing of her little cunt, by squeezing her thighs tightly. We were near the front of the bungalow and Amy, without a word, but with her hand still pressed between her thighs, suddenly darted into the house. Fanny remained with me. I took and put her hand on my burning and terribly stiff prick, whilst I at the same time kissed her and caressed her delicious little cunt.
“Come! Oh! come! quickly!” said she.
I felt her draw me quickly towards the lawn on one side of the house, where some thick shrubs grew. I guessed her intention. Arrived at the edge of the grove, I unbuttoned my trousers, and taking her hand, slipped it in. Fanny eagerly seized the tremendous weapon she felt, but alas, my shirt was still in the way, and so excited was she that all she could do was to exclaim, “My darling! My darling!” as her little hand nervously clutched and grasped my burning prick, in alternate tightening and loosening of her fingers. Not apprehending that Amy would return, that she had gone in to solace her little cunt there with the help of a finger or a plantain, or anything which could imitate the “high priest,” I had spoken of, I stood, and enjoyed to the fullest Fanny’s excitement and the pleasure her hand gave me, yet whilst so standing, I suddenly and luckily saw Amy coming. I whispered to Fanny, “Take care! Here is Amy!”
“Ho! ho! There you are!” she cried, “kissing I do declare!”
“No!” said Fanny in muffled tones, “I have sprained my ankle!”
“Yes!” said I immediately, glad and delighted to find Fanny so quick witted as to invent a reason on the spur of the moment for not moving on. I had my prick right out, sticking out from my trousers, covered still by my shirt indeed, which had interfered with poor Fanny’s endeavors to feel it naked in her hand, and it would have been instantly seen by Amy, only that Fanny leant against me, as it were for support, whilst I did my best to push back the most unruly and raging member.
“Yes!” I repeated, “poor Fanny somehow turned her ankle, and I am afraid it is hurting her very much, poor girl!” Then addressing Fanny, I said, “If you will let me apply my Grandmother’s remedy, I am sure I can relieve the pain, even if I cannot take it away altogether. But the sooner you let me do so, the more certain the result.”
Fanny gave a kind of groan as she said, “Oh! do whatever you like, and quickly, for it is hurting me so!”
I knelt on one hand, keeping myself close to Fanny’s petticoat, whilst, with. rapid fingers I managed to fasten a couple of the more important buttons, so as to keep my beast of a prick a tight prisoner. Then taking hold of her right ankle with my left hand, I pretended to press it with my other hand, but the temptation to do more was too strong, and Fanny felt, with delight, my wicked, delicious hand rapidly mount her well turned and beautiful leg, pressing her calf most voluptuously and amorously, as it got. Higher and higher. She bent a little more over me, resting her hands on my shoulders, and gave a little groan from time to time.
“It will be better soon, I think,” said I, as my hand reached her smooth, warm, polished and plump thigh. Fanny had really beautiful legs and thighs. My prick bounded and throbbed.
“Yes! I think it will!” gasped Fanny, if you continue as you are doing now.”
Amy stood by, looking on and sympathizing, but quite unable to see what I was doing I rapidly moved my hand up that glorious virgin thigh, pressing it and feeling it delightedly as I mounted, until I arrived at the spot between the delicious columns of ivory, I turned my hand back down, and gently seizing the two soft full lips of her plump little cunt, I pressed them together by alternate squeezes, so as to tickle and excite the clitoris, until Fanny could hardly stand still. Then slipping my big middle finger in, up to the knuckles, and using my other finger as a fulcrum against her swelling and bushy motte, I imitated what my prick would have done, had it had a fair chance, until almost expiring with pleasure, Fanny deluged my exciting and lascivious hand with a perfect torrent of hot spend, which run down my wrist and arm. I caressed the sweet, responsive cunt, with my most voluptuous touches and then, hardly able to keep a steady face, I asked her, “Well, how does it feel now Fanny?”
“It is all right! Oh! thanks—that was nice! Now that the pain is gone!”
“Did what he did really do you any good?” asked Amy wonderingly.
“Of course it did, you silly girl!” cried Fanny, “or I shouldn’t have said so!”
“Well! That is wonderful!” said Amy, “I’ll tell Mama!”
“Don’t do anything of the sort!” exclaimed Fanny, “you would only frighten her. I dare say it was nothing but a sprain. At any rate, I’m all right now.”
“Mama told me to tell you to come in,” said Amy.
“Oh! bother!” cried Fanny. “Amy! there’s a good girl, go and ask her to let me stay out a little longer.”
Amy was not inclined to do so, and, much to Fanny’s and my dissatisfaction, we had to go in. Before we did enter the house, howev
er, Fanny managed to throw both her arms round my neck and give me two most ardent kisses, without being seen by Amy. Gods! how my balls and groin did nearly split with aching.
After I got home I had the inevitable visit from poor Lavie. What a terrible plague he was! I did my best, as usual, to try and reconcile him to his fate, and I strongly urged him to do as much fucking as he could.
He said he had been doing this regularly and irregularly every night but could not work off his passion for Fanny, and I resolved to do my best to get him removed. Before going to bed I wrote to Dr. Bridges and I told him that I feared that Miss Selwyn was not safe. That Lavie prowled about all night, round her house, and that he had a perfect lust for her, which might induce him to attempt to rape her. I really believed this, for Lavie was like one mad for Fanny. He had begun a habit of muttering to himself, and I overheard a semi-threat to fuck Fanny whether she like it or not. Calling up Soubratie from his slumbers, I told him to take the letter, first thing in the morning, to Dr. Bridges, and the results will be seen in the results of that never to be forgotten day, the seventeenth of March, the very next day, the day on which Fanny Selwyn attained the double dignity of seventeen years of age and womanhood, the day I, at last, took her most charming maidenhead, fucking her, both to her and my hearts’ content, relieving her sweet cunt and my balls and groins of the load which had oppressed them since we had declared our mutual passion. I knew the seventeenth was Fanny’s birthday, but I had no idea I should be invited to assist at keeping the feast. However, after breakfast I had two very agreeable visits. As usual I was very much undressed, having nothing on me but my short sleeved jersey and pajamas, for it was much too hot, and there was far too blazing a sun outside, for me to expect visitors. The first who came to see me was old Bridges, our P.M.0., who seemed very anxious about Lavie. He said he had lately noticed a considerable alteration in him, a laxity in the way he carried out his duties, which he could not account for, until he heard of his unfortunate love affairs. He now wanted to know about the subject of my last letter, because it was of a very serious nature, and, if I did think there was any danger, he would telegraph to Simla for permission to send Lavie to Benares, where, he understood, there was room for another doctor. I easily satisfied Bridges on this head. During our conversation I had noticed his eyes constantly directed at the still blue and red looking scars on my left arm, caused by the knife of the brutal Afghan who had buggered poor Amy, and after he had finished speaking about poor Lavie, the good doctor went in for a complete history of the scars.
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