After this we re-joined the ladies in the drawing room, as I had insisted on their using that apartment. After sitting here and chaffing for about half an hour the General dozed off into a heavy sleep, and Zoe asked her step-mother to come out for a little while.
This Mrs. Martinet declined to do, on the ground that it was slightly chilly, so Zoe, who was a wilful specimen of womanhood, wished us au revoir and sallied forth.
I then poured out a glass of port, for Eva rather liked that wine, and unobserved by her, dropped out of my waistcoat phial enough Pinero Balsam to have stimulated an anchorite.
‘Do have half a glass, I intreat you, it will put life in you, I have remarked that you seemed languid to-day.’
‘Well, I will just take a wee drop,’ said Eva, and she half emptied the glass as she spoke.
‘Your husband sleeps soundly, Eva.’
‘Hs’sh; don’t call me that here. Yes, he always sleeps so after dinner for a good half-hour.’
I was sitting in the arm chair during this colloquy; Eva was standing by the window, and I could just reach her skirt by leaning forward. I did so, and with both hands gently, but with adroit force, pulled her backwards, until she sat upon my lap.
‘For God’s sake,’ whispered she, in an agony of dread, let me go; if he were to wake he would kill us both.’
‘But he won’t wake. You told me yourself he would be sure to sleep for half an hour, and there is ample time for what we want to do in that space. Come into my bedroom for five minutes my darling.’
‘Mr. Clinton, I dare not; think of the exposure.’
‘I can think of nothing but this, my sweet, Eva,’ and suiting the action to the word, I clapped my hand upon her lovely rosebud of a snatchbox before she had the slightest idea that I was anywhere near it.
She proved a game girl; she didn’t cry out, for that would have meant death and damnation, but she appealed to my good sense.
‘Not now,’ she said, imploringly, ‘be counselled by me; not now, some other time.’
‘My darling,’ said I, ‘stand up for one moment.’ She did so, and I instantly lifted all her clothes, having in the meantime brought out my stiff straight cock, which I was mortally afraid would discharge its contents before it was properly positioned.
‘Now sit down, dear.’
She obeyed me, and as she did so, I opened with the thumb and finger of my left hand the delicate sprouting lips of her seraphic orifice, the backward pressure of her arse did the rest, and I went in with a rush that made my very marrow twitter with pleasure.
‘Oh, God,’ burst from Eva’s lips, ‘this is heavenly.’
The old man turned uneasily on the couch; the back of the arm chair was turned to him, so that all he could see was the top of Eva’s head.
‘Is that you, Eva,’ said the General.
‘Yes, dear,’ replied his wife.
‘What are you doing, my love?’
‘Still embroidering your new smoking cap, dear.’
‘Where’s Clinton?’
‘He’s gone out for a smoke,’ said the trembling girl.
‘All right, call me in half an hour,’ and in less than three minutes the dear old soldier was once more in the land of Nod, but during that three minutes we seemed to have lived an age. I would have gladly got out of her and sneaked away, for I could not help thinking of the revolvers, but she had never tasted the exquisite bliss a young man’s prick can convey, and was, to use a ‘servantgalism’, rampageous for it. She had never had a fuck before in such a position, but women are quick to learn a lesson when sperm is to be the prize, and in less than a minute she had wriggled out of me more genital juice than had ever rushed up her seminal ducts before. When she found she could draw no more, she quietly rose and walked to the window, leaving me to button up, and vanish on tiptoe out of the drawing room, and I did not meet her any more that night.
THE MYSTERIOUS NOTE AND FRENCH LETTER SEQUEL
The reader knows my character by this time sufficiently well to be fully aware that I did not permit a single opportunity to escape of performing on Eva, till I think that young lady grew to look for it as regularly as a cat watches for the advent of the horseflesh purveyor.
One morning, however, I did not keep my appointment with her as usual, for we generally went out about mid-day, as I had found a quiet cowshed in a field on the Dover-road, behind which the grass grew thick and long, and there we were free from interruption.
There, too, if there be any truth in the general belief that semen is a great fructifier of the soil, the grass should grow thicker than ever by this time, for I am sure that Eva and I bathed it with the best essence we possessed many a time and oft.
This particular morning, however, I received a note in a handwriting I did not know, the letter ran thus:
Sir,
Your liaison with Mrs. M — is known, and it depends upon you whether it will be divulged to her husband. Meet me near the spot you generally meet her, at two p.m to-day.
Yours,
‘ONE WHO HAS SEEN ALL.’
It was a woman’s hand, and I was puzzled. I dropped a few lines to Eva, saying I could not keep my appointment with her, and proceeded to the rendezvous to find my fair anonyma.
I arrived at the back of the cowshed and turned the corner, when to my intense surprise Zoe stood there, in her hands a bunch of fresh wild flowers, and as she was expecting me, whereas I never dreamed that she had sent the note she had me at a decided disadvantage.
‘Well, sir,’ said she, ‘you received my communication?’
‘I did,’ replied I, for I felt that I must put a bold face upon it, ‘and I’m sorry to think “you have seen all”, for I was hoping to some day afford you the novelty of examining it.’
‘Mr. Clinton, kow could you have been so wicked, my poor old father is not far from the grave, you might have waited until Eva had been left a widow.’
If you look at me another moment with those flashing eyes I shall do you over in the same way, my pet, thought I.
‘Let us sit down, and reason, Miss Martinet; you have chosen a strange place for a serious conversation, but it will be infinitely better for you to sit down and then the tall grass will conceal you from view, whereas standing up every country yokel who passes by sees us both, puts his own construction on it, and your reputation is irretrievably ruined.’
‘You are perfectly right,’ said Zoe, ‘I will sit down, especially as I note some uniforms on the road yonder, and they might be officer friends of my father’s.’
Zoe sat down, and put up her parasol, but the two gentlemen she had remarked came round the bend of the road at the same time. They were two lieutenants of the – th, at Dover, and I had been to a ball where I had knocked up against them some little time before.
‘Hallo! Clinton, what the devil are you – Oh, I say – a petticoat. Well, I’m damned – alfresco, eh? under the azure dome of heaven. Well, good luck, my boy; but give me a pair of nice clean sheets and native nakedness,’ and down the road went the pair, humming a godless tune they had picked up in the camp before Sebastopol a few years before.
I turned to Zoe.
‘What a fortunate thing you were out of sight, my dear,’ said I, sitting down beside her.
‘Yes, it was, indeed,’ said she, trying with her short skirt to conceal a shapely ankle, which, in a pair of elegant scarlet stockings, looked simply delicious.
I know it was very rude and ungentlemanly of me, but I could not help remarking aloud what an exquisite tournure the stocking gave to her leg, and enquired whether she thought the colour had anything to do with it.
‘Mr. Clinton, I think we had better go,’ was all the answer she gave me.
‘But, my dear Zoe, I thought you had brought me here to read me a prim lecture on morality?’
‘Alas!’ said she, sighing, ‘I could not tell of poor dear mamma, she is so artless, and –’
‘And I am so artful, you would say; but, my dear young lady, I
admit having made a great mistake in intriguing with the General’s wife, I can see it now.’
‘And I hope,’ said she, making a pretty bow, ‘that you are contrite?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I am, but shall I explain to you the error I committed?’
‘If it will not take too long in the telling.’
‘Well, my mistake was in going for the wife, and not the daughter.’
‘Mr. Clinton, how can you say such a thing?’
‘Zoe, from the moment I first saw your matchless face your eyes burnt into my bosom’s core like fire, and now, by heaven, that we are here alone, with none but bright Phoebus as our witness, I must – ‘here commenced a struggle in the grass, but it was of short duration.
She threatened to scream, but I hurriedly pointed out that if she accused me of rape I could bring the two young officers as witnesses that I had a lady with me who was sitting on the grass apparently only waiting for it, and besides – but all my entreaties were of no avail, until at length growing desperate, and with a prick on me like a bull’s pizzle, I forced her legs apart, and would have ravished her by sheer strength, when she whispered in my ear, ‘For God’s sake use a French letter, I’m so afraid of falling in the family way.’
Now I never stir from home without a letter, but I hate using them when I know the cunt is fresh, and untainted with a soupcon of an afterthought, so that although the request coming from one I had supposed a virgin rather astounded me. I was fully equal to the occasion.
Taking one from my waistcoat pocket, and beginning to fit it on, I said, ‘Then you’ve had the root before, Zoe.’
‘Yes,’ said she, ‘once, with a young captain in Pa’s regiment at Allahabad, but this was when I was seventeen. He always used them for fear of the consequences.’
By this time I had fitted it, and Zoe showed her perfect readiness to wait patiently for the operation.
‘Let me have one peep, darling,’ said I.
She laughingly lay back flat on her back, and showed me a large forest of hair, as glossy as a raven’s back and as black, while beneath it I saw as neat a little quimbo as one could wish for.
Reader, do you blame me, if, after seeing such a sight I surreptitiously pulled off the letter and let my John Thomas approach his lair au naturel I should have been more than mortal to have refrained, flesh is one hundred per cent better than a nasty gutta percha cover, and although Zoe was unaware of what I had done, she showed herself fully appreciative of my premier thrust, though her action took me completely by surprise.
Whether it was the springiness of the soft green grass on which we lay, I know not, but with all my experience I cannot recall to mind any wench, even one, having her first grind, who showed such arse power as Zoe.
The Hindoo and English cross must be a good fucking breed I thought, but scarcely had the fleeting idea passed through my brain than one more vigorous push brought on the crisis of delight.
Zoe, at this point, was working her bottom with what the Yankees would call an all-hell-fire motion, when she suddenly seemed transported with delight, and kissing my neck, bit me in a frenzy till she actually brought the blood.
Much as I had enjoyed myself, this was a style of emotion I was not enamoured of, and I screamed out with the pain.
I got up, leaving Zoe still lying exhausted on the ground, when to my horror I heard a step behind me, and before I could button up found myself confronted by Eva.
I do not know why it should have been so, but although the meteorological record for that year does not return the weather in May as being particularly warm, I found it at least 212 Fahrenheit on that eventful day, in spite of the sea breeze, so not liking tropical heat, I returned to town, and I have met Zoe in society since, but poor Eva, after tasting forbidden fruit, and finding it so much sweeter than the withered-up stuff obtainable from the husband’s orchard, went wrong again and again, and was finally bowled in the very act, but, luckily for the gay Lothario, the General had left those chased revolvers at home.
A DISAGREEABLE MISTAKE
Not always have I had the happiness of being fortunate in my amours. It is true that I have managed to escape the dread fate of those poor unfortunate devils whose tools are living witnesses to the powers of caustic and the lethal weapons of the surgery, but I have on occasions been singularly unfortunate, and as the warning voice of my publisher tells me I have little more time or space at my disposal, I will devote the present chapter of this work to detailing a most unpleasant incident, which all people are more or less liable to who go in for promiscuous intercourse to any large extent.
My only sister, Sophy, came up to London with her husband shortly after my return from Folkestone, and although he was a perfect brute of a fellow, and a man I disliked very much, I made myself as agreeable as I could, and took a furnished house for them during their stay, near the Regent’s Park.
Frank Vaughan, a young architect, and a rising man, was one I introduced them to, as my sister had brought a friend, Miss Polly White, with her, who lived near our old home in the country, and being anxious to see London, her parents had placed her under my sister’s guardian wing to do the lions’ of the metropolis.
Polly was an only daughter, so knowing the old people had a good nest egg, I thought it would be a capital opportunity to throw Frank in her way.
I told him precisely how matters stood, and advised him to make a match of it.
‘The old people are rich,’ said I, ‘but if they object to you on the score of money, fuck her, my boy, and that will bring them to reason.’
‘Is she perfectly pure now,’ said Frank, ‘for to tell you the truth I haven’t come across a genuine maid since I landed a stripling of thirteen, nearly ten years ago. Are you sure you haven’t.’
I’ll swear it, if you like,’ returned I, laughing at the soft impeachment, ‘but take my advice, Frank, and win her. She’ll be worth at least £40,000 when the old folks snuff it.’
I’m on the job,’ said Frank; and it was easy to see from the immaculate shirt front, the brilliant conversation, and the great attention he paid her, that he meant business.
One night, however, I was puzzled, for I thought Frank was far more assiduous in his manner to my sister than he should have been, considering that the ‘nugget’, for so we had christened Polly, was present.
I could not understand it at all, and determined to watch the development of the situation.
There was, I must tell you an underplot to all this, for several times I had noted that Polly’s regard for me was a trifle too warm, and once or twice in the theatre, and in the brougham, coming home particularly, I had felt the soft pressure of her knees, and returned it with interest – but, to my story.
Frank proposed going to Madame Tussaud’s, and as Polly had never been, and my sister knew every model in the show by heart, Frank suggested that he should take the ‘nugget’, ‘unless you would like to go with us,’ said he to me.
‘Not I, indeed,’ was my reply, ‘besides, sissey here will be alone, as her beautiful husband has been out all day, and will, I suppose, turn up beastly drunk about midnight. No, you go together, and enjoy your little selves.’ So off they went.
When Polly passed me in the hall, she gave me a peculiar look, which I utterly failed to comprehend, and asked me to fasten her glove. As I did so she passed a slip of paper into my hand, and when she had gone I read on it these words: Be in the study about nine o’clock.
What can the little minx mean, was my first thought. She surely wouldn’t go about an intrigue in this barefaced fashion; she has been brought up in a demure way, yet what on earth can she mean. At any rate I will do her bidding.
Making an excuse to my sister about eight o’clock, for I was as curious as possible to know what it could all portend, and saying I was going out for a couple of hours, I slammed the hall door behind me, and then quietly crept upstairs to the study.
I found it in perfect darkness, but knowing where the couch was situate
d, at the far end of the room, I made for it, and I must confess the solitude, the darkness, and a good dinner, all combined, made me forget curiosity, Polly, the warning note, and everything else, and in less than five minutes I was fast asleep.
I was awakened by a scented hand I knew was a woman’s touching my face, and a low voice whispering in my ear, ‘You are here then; I never heard you come in.’
Damn it, thought I, it’s an intrigue after all; but she’s too tall for Polly. Oh, I see it all, she’s our prim landlady (who retained one room in the house, and was, I knew, desperate nuts upon my brother-in-law). Polly found out about it, and set me on the track, so without saying a word I laid her unresistingly on the couch, and in a few seconds was busy.
I could not help thinking while wiring in that she displayed much vigour for one of her years, since I judged the lady to be at least forty-five, but her ardour only made me the more fervent, and at the end of a long series of skirmishing the real hot short work began.
It would be impossible to express my horror at this moment when my hand came in contact with a cross she was wearing round her neck, and I found that it was my own sister I was rogering.
I had, unluckily got to that point where no man or woman could cease firing, but the worst part of the damned unfortunate affair was that I burst out with an ejaculation of dismay, and she, too, recognized my voice. The situation was terrible.
‘Good God!’ said I, ‘Sophy, how on earth has this come about?’
Then, sobbingly, she told me that her husband had abstained from her more than two years because he had contracted a chronic gonorrhoeic disorder, and that Vaughan had won her over to make this rendezvous, and had intended letting Polly be shown through Tussaud’s by a friend he had arranged to meet there.
‘But,’ added she, ‘how was it I found you here?’
This I dare not tell her, as it was now evident that Polly was aware of the assignation, and to let my sister know – that would have been death.
Poor girl, she was sufficiently punished for her frailty, and Polly, who had caught a few words of the appointment, was sufficiently revenged.
Fifty Shades of Victorian Desire Page 26