by AnonYMous
“Come, darling, come, for you must be longing for it. Did you see them at it?”
“I am not—no! Oh, Elaine, what a naughty thing to do! St...stop f...feeling me...AH!”
Of a sudden I was bared to my hips. The tip of her forefinger engaged the oily lips of my nest and found my button. I twisted, writhed. I absorbed her tongue. My protestations fled. At the first ardent rubbing of her finger I was lost. Or rather, I should say, found. Oft since have we talked about that moment and how the net of fate ensnares us by the most casual of events. I refer of course to the fact that Elaine had caught me in that moment. My hips wriggled even as Mrs. Witherington-Carey's had done. My legs parted, enabling Elaine to slip full-length upon me. Withdrawing her urging finger as she did so, her furry nest sidled moistly against my own. I felt the rubbing of our lovelips, the tingling merging of our pubic hairs. Coiling her arms under my knees and raising and thrusting my legs back, she caused our honeypots to meet and rub fully. I gasped within her mouth, I clasped her shoulders. Our bottoms squirmed in mutual delight. In a moment a violent shuddering seized me and my belly felt as if invaded by bursting stars. Lashing her tongue wickedly all around my own, Elaine sprinkled my bush in turn with her own spattering lovejoy and then kissed me tenderly all about my hot face.
Alas, that one can never come within distance of such moments with mere words. Long have I practised such in my diaries, yet ever despairing of describing even the touch of lips to one's own in a manner that will communicate to the reader—even to myself. I who hold the dear memories of a thousand such moments of ineluctable bliss can frame them more closely in my mind than mere words can draw. The words provide but a sketch, the frailest outlines of reality. I trouble myself too much about it, perhaps. To Elaine I appear to possess a mastery of prose such as she can never attain to. Time and again in the years that have since passed after that first night of voluptuous discoveries, she has asked me again and again, “What did you write about it?”—referring of course to whatever event had last occurred. She has been party to almost all I have written, her eyes positively glowing as she has perused my diaries, while for myself I have fretted openly to her that I have failed to capture the fleshly bliss.
“Oh, if I could but write like you, I would write very naughty books,” she has oftimes declared.
I have never been flattered by her praise, however. I know my faults, my shortcomings, the midnight wrestlings with words upon which I afterwards gaze with disappointed mien. However, I digress again and must return to the first ruffled bed in which we found ourselves alone and palpitating.
My nest throbbed. Our bodies were sticky together. With a sigh Elaine rolled off of me, though still continuing to cuddle and caress me. That I made no bones about letting her do so—and even returned her lascivious touchings—was the full sign that I had been drawn at last into my future realm. Hot-nippled as our breasts were, they rubbed together where our nightgowns had been drawn up to our armpits.
“Tell me now. What did you see? Who was it?”
I giggled foolishly, still somewhat naive as I was. That long night was however to temper me much in my attitudes and ways of thought. I recall not what I replied for I durst not tell her—as I then thought—that her own Papa was one of the participants. Indeed, in my own ridiculous fashion in those first moments of aftermath, I thought she would not believe me or would be shocked. Such veils of unknowing were soon to be rent from me. Persistent in her questioning and never ceasing to keep me thoroughly aroused between my thighs, Elaine at last after many hesitations and denials on my part, drew from me by simple methods of elimination of names the identity of Mrs. Witherington-Carey. Indeed, I bit my tongue and hid my face upon uttering the name. However, to my uttermost surprise, my cousin remarked with a charming laugh, “She is quite a beauty, is she not? How did he have at her? Were her drawers full down?”
“Oh, she had none on,” I replied, realising for the first time that the lady had worn no such garment. Even as I spoke my breath was bubbling out again for upon Elaine's wicked forefinger as my dell was, I was yet about to come again.
It was over the table, I said. Who was the man, she demanded to know. Do not make me tell, I begged. At that she laughed and rolled me under her anew.
“I know—it was Papa. Oh, he has a big one!” she declared, to my perfect astonishment.
“Oh, it was Papa, then. What a big one he has!”
“Ah, Elaine!”
She had me exactly as she wanted. I was lost to her entirely. Raising my legs of my own accord, I wound them round her slim waist. Her words sang in my brain even as we kissed and rubbed and rose anew to a peak of bliss.
“How...how do you know?” I gasped, for all manner of thoughts were now raging in me.
“You sillykins, you do not know much, do you? Oh, you naughty thing, you are making me come again—is it not lovely?”
I could not but agree. The word painted but a ghost of the sensations I was prey to. The thorns of our nipples seemed to spin about one another's. Our lips indulged in the most lascivious kisses. The curls of our quims became matted with our merging spendings.
“We will do everything together, shall we not, Arabella?”
“Yes,” I choked, though I knew not then the full import of her words nor to what scenes of libertine delights they were to lead us. Quietening ourselves at last, we lay quiet. In the milky gloom, Elaine bent over me and regarded me solemnly. Then, rising, she discarded her nightdress and bid me do the same. There being a flask of liqueur such as was kept for all guests in a side cabinet, we indulged ourselves by drinking from the neck of it. I knew not the time, nor cared.
“Shall we be naughty together?” Elaine asked. We sat up, our legs curled under us, hips touching.
“What can we do?” I asked naively.
“Everything, Arabella. I have long thought of it. Have you not wondered that I am not yet wed? It is of my own choosing. I may do so in a few years time, but for the nonce I do not mean to fetter myself to one man and one bed. I have learned too much for that, how utterly boring it would be! I am certain now that you share my feelings, or will soon do so, therefore I mean to confide in you. Do you know how many ways there are in which pleasure can be taken?”
I shook my head. I was all agog with wonder and so tremulous from the experiences of the night that I was ready to follow her in all.
“Let us consider, for I have read many naughty books that I filched from Papa's study, though he knows it not. Were all the things therein to be brought together, what exquisite pleasures one could have! Firstly, there are joys between ladies, such as we have just had and which are ever renewable. You were very easy to seduce, my love, for you were already in a fine fever for it. Supposing, though, that one seduced a girl who was not. What fun!”
“Oh, but she might hate it and make a fuss, Elaine!”
“Of course she would not—not for long. Girls are very understanding among themselves you know, and if she were a novice her delights would be threefold and we could teach her much. Then there is the mounting of a girl by a man. What a delight it is to watch! Supposing we could bring it about!”
My mouth parted, I could not believe what I was hearing, yet Elaine spoke not in a coy fashion but a very plain and practical one that stilled the amazed response I might otherwise have given. Indeed, I was dumbstruck, which she—perceiving my silence to be halfway towards assent on my part—took quick advantage of.
“It is perfectly possible, you know, for I have heard about it being done at hunt balls and such. It is called being put to the cock and many a fair young lady has been initiated thus during the revelry. Alas, Mama is very prim and proper, you know, and so has never let me attend one, nor my sisters. I have endeavoured to wheedle Papa into letting me accompany him on some pretext of going elsewhere, but he has resisted. For my part, of course, I have pretended ignorance to him of the goings on, merely saying that I wished to attend a grand affair, but he will not have it, saying they are
by invitation only. All the world knows that, of course, but it would trouble him nothing to arrange our presence.”
“But in that case you would see nothing, for surely it is not done before the whole company and your Papa could scarce be present when you did.”
“You see how I have to educate you, my pet! Did it bother you a whit that Papa was not putting himself to his wife? Of course not! Did it bother Papa or Helen? Not for a second, Arabella. The pleasure is all. I mean to bring you to my way of thinking on this.”
“You said he had...”
I could not finish the sentence no more than I could stop myself from uttering it.
“A big one? Well—has he not? How I know this I do not intend to tell you as yet, which I know will tease you much and therefore to listen to me ever more carefully. So you see, as to bringing a girl to the penis, that is more easily done than you would think, although the moment and the atmosphere must be right. I have witnessed it once, as you have, and found a perfect pleasure in doing so. What more could be gained than by gazing upon the intimate conjunction of the parts, by listening to the sighs, the moans, and seeing the rolling of the eyes and the passionate merging of lips.”
“Yes, that is true,” I exclaimed, for the more I then thought upon it, the more I wanted to see it again.
“Well, then, and so is much other than one can think and read of. What a waste were we to let it all pass by us, Arabella! What utter boredom to find oneself too early wed and the doors of adventure closed. Listen now, for there is much more than I have already said. To birch a girl is quite delicious, for instance.”
“Oh, but that would hurt her!”
“My tender one, it would sting and burn her, yes, but if wielded properly—as from all I read—the ensuing pleasures are a perfect delight and not by any means to be scorned. The twigs burnish the bottom, cause it to become fervently heated and the cunny to moisten, and so all is well prepared for the amourous assault that needs follow.”
“Is that true? Oh, I suppose I can imagine it a little! Papa has never birched me, though. Has yours?”
“No, my pet—he has been too busy on other ventures with other females to think of baring my bottom. But wait, for we have not by any means reached the end of our lists. There is riding, for instance, when the man— mounted on the same horse behind the female of his choosing—may put himself to her easily enough as she raises her bottom to the jogging of the horse. The reading of such an event much excited me, as I'm sure it would you. There is then also the binding of a girl by ropes or straps when she may be made to take the cock. I have heard it said that some girls are well held by other ladies to the same end at such rumbustious occasions as I have mentioned, so I see little difference in the matter save that by more elaborate means of bringing a girl to her fate one may take more time and have more enduring pleasure in it. But I see you are looking doubtful about it,” declared Elaine, taking another swig from the flask and passing it to me.
Whether it was the headiness of the liqueur or that of her words, I knew not, but found myself shaking my head in denial. I averred only, and rather weakly, that it seemed a trifle cruel.
“That is because you have not thought about it, my pet, as I have. The girl would be well prepared beforehand by being tickled and kissed and teased, just as you have been this very night. Did you not surrender and willingly? I have no doubts at all that any sporty girl put to such mischief would soon enough take as much pleasure from it as you did. Think you now of other things, however, that one might do, as for instance entertaining two gentlemen at once.”
My exclamation at this was such that she burst into laughter.
“I forget, Arabella, that you have not even been threaded yet and know only of the real pleasures by proxy. I must warn you though that they are not always brought forth with such voluptuous skills as you have witnessed, and indeed that bout itself was of brief duration from what you tell me. This is not to say that one might not sport briefly oneself of occasion—out of a sense of mischief, perhaps, if nothing else. We must ourselves enjoy all that we speak of, and more, or we shall remain as novices. What say you, cousin?”
What could I say? To venture her a negative reply would have been ludicrous, yet I teetered on the edge of all such wickednesses as she had spoken of,—though a continued tingling in my cunny surreptitiously announced my pleasure at the thought of them. Nor was that all, for as Elaine had told me she had garnered many very naughty ideas from her father's secret store of books and had memorised them all.
Making not too much of my wondering silence, she stroked and fondled me, well seeing that I was all a-quiver still to receive her tongue and her fingers. Ere dawn broke, Elaine had tasted my honeypot with her mouth and I hers. We trickled and spurted our pleasure between each other's lips. After doing so, we coiled our tongues together so that we might take a further taste of all that was mixed.
“Is it not more delicious than the finest of liqueurs? Come, leap with me into a divine course of wickedness. Say that you will!”
“Yes!” I assented. The die was cast. Never would I turn back.
CHAPTER three
“First you must be threaded, darling, and have your cunny filled to the brim,” Elaine murmured to me before departing for her own room. The sheet was long twisted under me from our rompings, yet I felt no discomfort from it. My passions stirred upon all the things of which we had talked. Amidst my musings I saw ever again and again the sturdy shaft that had reamed dear Helen who unexpectedly was later to become a dear and knowing friend. The vision of it enflamed me still. I toyed with myself and fell into the most vivid dreams wherein all earthly cares are cast aside. Upon waking at the entrance of a housemaid bringing tea the next morning, all churned up again within me, yet I could scarce believe it had all come to pass, The fevers of the night seemed to my drowsy mind but tattered emblems of a wild imagination. Indeed, a certain morbidity would, I believe, have seized me, had not Elaine once more entered upon the scene.
Attired in a pale pink peignoir adorned with lace, she looked perfectly lovely. Her legs, elegant as they were and full womanly at their juncture, twinkled palely through the gap in the fine, silky material. Her eyes were warm. Seeing my expression, she gave a loving smile and sat beside me, taking my hand.
“I meant all that I said—be not in doubt of it. Long have I waited to have an accomplice such as you,” she declared. “You have such an air of angelic innocence and prettiness as will disguise many of our escapades. Your passion will know no more bounds than mine. Say that you are still of the same mind, Arabella, oh do!”
Such was the pleading in her tone that I laughed almost in relief at being lifted from my cloud of doubt. Taking this for all the assent that my expression was intended to reveal, she kissed me warmly.
“Repeat now the final lesson I taught you,” she demanded. While I hesitated, she tapped my lips playfully with her fingers, saying that if the words did not come out she would tickle me to distraction. “Cock must come to...Come on, Arabella!”
I hid my face but could not suppress a grin. Her hand moved to tickle me beneath my armpits and I jumped.
“C...c...cock must come to cunny,” I whispered.
“Yes—go on!” The excited impatience in her voice was evident.
“C...c...cock must come to bottom—lips must come to cock—pussy must come to pussy—lips must come to pussy...oh, Elaine, I forget!”
“Oh, you story, you do not—but that will do for the moment. But you have forgotten one thing: it does not matter whose they are so long as they are nice! There, you see, it sounds like a little song! But listen, for I have a most wonderful idea. You remember that I told you that I wished to attend one of the private gatherings and that Papa would not take me? Of course you do. Well, we shall exercise our devious powers, my pet, and to the advantage of us all. Papa is much smitten with you, as I happen to know, for 'tis always he who ensures your invitation here. Yes, you may well blush, but that is the truth of it.
Now, as to my plan it is really very simple. I shall make it known to Papa—indeed, we shall do so—that you are much taken with the idea also. Of course, he will believe us innocent in the real affair of things, but no matter. The idea will come far more fetchingly from you and I feel certain he will not then resist.”
I became almost pettish at first at the idea which I thought merely hotheaded, I confess.
“Elaine, we dare not, for whatever passes there will be seen by your Papa as much as we, and I would have no face to put upon it, let alone you.”
“Have I not thought of that, my darling muddlehead? It will be known, of course, that Papa and I are kin and so discreet arrangements will be made to ensure our separation. I shall be whisked away—I have no doubt of that— but hence will still enjoy myself and, who knows, with the help of one or other may yet still peep in upon the proceedings. As for you, 'twill be quite other, for Papa will be discreet enough to withdraw from you, I know.”
“Oh, Elaine, what boldness! I could not!”
“Ha! See how you scurry to your rabbit hole as soon as we begin!” Elaine jeered and made to rise, which reaction from her caused me to seize her wrist, for then—as now— I would never be taken for a coward, however bizarre all seemed to me then.
“I do not! I will do it, you will see,” I blurted, much to her satisfaction, for she embraced me and declared that she had really known it all along.
“Really, you have no need to bother about Papa any more than I, Arabella. He knows perfectly well what is afoot at such gatherings and will be well apprised when something naughty is about to begin. At that he will no more be able to face you than you him and so will take to one of the bedrooms with some lady of his choosing. To put not too fine a point upon it, the occasion will give him fair opportunity to do so.”