by G Scott Gray
“After all,” she said, with a glance at Mr Bennet, “I used a lot of energy yesterday. A lot of energy.”
“Yes,” said Mary, “we were walking along the beach for some time, weren’t we?”
“Yes, that too,” said Mrs Bennet.
She ate her second breakfast with relish.
“As I was saying, Mr Bennet, what shall we do today? We could visit Mr Darcy and Lizzy and ask them if they would like to join us for luncheon later. Or dinner.”
“I think Mr Darcy and Lizzy are enjoying a holiday away from the cares and worries of Pemberley, my dear. From what Lizzy tells me it’s like a second honeymoon for them, for their first was cut short when Darcy was called away on business matters.”
“Well I’m sure they would like a little extra company,” said Mrs Bennet with her customary awareness and tact.
Despite Mr Bennet’s protestations it was decided that they would go at once to The Grand and ask Darcy and Lizzy if they wished to join them for the day. After Mrs Bennet ate one last piece of toast, heaped with marmalade.
They went directly to Darcy and Lizzy’s room. Again, they heard strange noises inside.
“Is somebody testing their bed as well, Mr Bennet?” said Mrs Bennet.
Mr Bennet looked up at the ceiling as though he were asking The Lord to grant him strength. Mrs Bennet rapped on the door with the handle of her parasol. The noises stopped and Mrs Bennet thought she heard an oath from inside the room. A few moments later Mr Darcy opened the door. He was wearing a silk dressing gown, the belt hastily fastened, and appeared disheveled and a little sweaty, as though he had been exerting himself.
Mrs Bennet put her head around the door, trying to see if Lizzy was there.
“Ah, Mr Darcy,” she said, “Mr Bennet and I wondered if you would care to join us? We are going into town and then going for a little luncheon.”
Mr Bennet flashed a sickly grin of apology.
“Thank you, no, Mrs Bennet. Neither Lizzy nor I would care to join you. We do not wish to go into town, nor do we wish to have a little luncheon with you.”
“Oh,” said Mrs Bennet, genuinely surprised. “Were you busy when we knocked on the door? Did you have other plans for this morning?”
“You could say that, yes, Mrs Bennet,” said Darcy.
Without another word Darcy shut the door in his mother in law’s face. He returned to the bed chamber. Lizzy was in the same position she had been when they were interrupted; on her back, naked with her legs wide open.
“Where were we?” he said, gazing at the soft pinkness of her sex.
“You were inside me, I believe,” she said.
“I do believe your mother would have walked straight into our bed chamber if I’d let her.”
“I know,” said Lizzy with a lick of her lips. “That’s why I stayed where I was and didn’t cover myself up. If she’d seen me like this she would have run from the room.”
“What a little minx you are, Elizabeth Darcy.”
He unfastened the belt and took off his dressing gown. Although he had gone flaccid while he dealt with Mrs Bennet at the door, he was fully erect again now, the sight of Lizzy on the bed inflaming his passions once more. They had been making love before they were interrupted so Lizzy was still wet with arousal. She grasped her legs in her hands and her secret place gaped for him, glistening with her wetness. He wanted her more than ever. She was his wife, lover and also a beautiful body that he wanted to fuck. He slid his stiff cock inside her and loved her hard and well, ensuring they both came together.
By this time Mrs Bennet had walked back and stood outside the hotel.
“That was very rude of him, don’t you think, Mr Bennet.”
“I think they were busy, my dear. And we did go to their suite unannounced.”
“What could they possibly have been doing that was more important than having a little luncheon with me? Tell me that, Mr Bennet.”
“I cannot imagine, my dear,” said Mr Bennet.
At that moment Wickham and Lydia emerged from the hotel. They did not see Mr and Mrs Bennet or Mary, for they were standing around the corner. Wickham and Lydia talked affectionately together, as if in private.
“I must say, Mrs Wickham,” said Wickham with a leer, “you were a very bad girl this morning.”
“Indeed, George,” she said flirtatiously, “was I a bad wife this morning?”
“On the contrary, my pet. You were a very good wife indeed. I merely said you were a bad girl. Very bad.”
“And you were a naughty fellow indeed,” she said. She was not addressing him but looking at the bulge in his tight white trousers.
“Blame yourself, Mrs Wickham, for you give the little fellow a very great appetite for love.”
“All I did was brush my hand up and down the shaft and take it in my mouth. And it’s not a little fellow, you know. It certainly wasn’t this morning when it was in my mouth. Why I almost gagged.”
“And you swallowed too, didn’t you? I like that very much.”
“As do I, George. I like the salty taste of our seed.”
Mrs Bennet stepped around the corner in which they had been hidden.
“Why Lydia, I thought I recognized your voice.”
“Mother! What on earth are you doing here?”
“Never mind that. What are you doing here?”
“George and I came away for a little holiday. We heard that Brighton is most pleasant and that our mad king likes it very much. George thought it would be agreeable to spend a few days here on our own.”
“Good day, Mr Wickham,” said Mrs Bennet with a little curtsey.
“And good day to you,” said Wickham. He took off his hat and gave her an elaborate bow with a glittering smile. A little too glittering perhaps.
Mr Bennet and Mary joined the little group. Bows and curtseys were made, and handshakes exchanged.
“And what brings you to Brighton, Mrs Bennet?” said Wickham.
“We came to help Lizzy and Mr Darcy enjoy their holiday. Apparently, it is some kind of second honeymoon so we (Mr Bennet and I, I mean) thought they would enjoy it all the more if they had a little company. So here we are.”
“Good Lord,” said Wickham amused. Mr Bennet gave him a sickly grin too.
“In any event, they were busy this morning and did not wish to join us for luncheon, so perhaps you would like to come in their stead.”
“My wife and I would be delighted,” said Wickham with another doff of his hat and a comically elaborate bow.
The five of them, Mr and Mrs Bennet, Mr and Mrs Wickham and Mary, walked into the centre of Brighton. They looked around a few shops, bought a few gifts and had a pleasant enough time. They visited a coffee house for refreshment.
“I must say, Mrs Bennet, Lydia and I were most surprised when we discovered that you and Mr Bennet were here, not to mention Mary. We met Mr Darcy and his wife yesterday. And that was a surprise too. A very pleasant surprise, wasn’t it, Lydia?”
“Oh yes, very pleasant. Why did Kitty not come with you, mama?”
“She didn’t say,” said Mrs Bennet. “I don’t know why she didn’t come too. I’m sure she’s having a perfectly tedious time on her own.”
Mrs Bennet did not know, could not have known, that at that moment Kitty was lying in bed, naked. Not in her own bed, but that of Miss Bingley. She was on her back while Caroline had her head between her legs and was licking her secret place, from the skin just above the bottom all the way up her slit of flesh to the hood and the little rosebud beneath. Kitty stroked Caroline’s hair and sighed with joy with each long, slow stroke of her tongue. They had been in bed for some time and Kitty had already attended to Caroline’s sensual needs with her own tongue, relishing the touch of satin like flesh on the tip and enjoying the sweet, musky taste.
“I’m sure Kitty’s happy enough,” said Mr Bennet.
“She says that she has become firm friends with Miss Caroline Bingley,” said Mary. “She says they spend a
fair amount of time together at Miss Bingley’s cottage.”
“Caroline Bingley?” said Mrs Bennet. “I always found her a rather difficult and sour sort of woman.”
“Kitty says most people say that,” said Mary. “But she says Miss Bingley treats her very well and makes her feel rather special.”
“Then I’m glad,” said Mr Bennet.
“Shall we have luncheon now?” said Mrs Bennet.
“But, my dear, you ate two breakfasts and it is still early.”
“I cannot help my appetite, can I?” she said. “Can I, Mr Bennet?”
“No, I suppose not, Mrs Bennet.”
Wickham leered at his wife.
“And I can’t help my appetites can I, my pet?”
Lydia blushed charmingly.
“No, I suppose not, George.”
They proceeded to an agreeable looking restaurant and were duly seated at a large round table. Menus were duly handed out and drinks were duly ordered; sweet tasting cordial for the ladies and brandy for the gentlemen, a large one in Mr Bennet’s case.
“How do you like your accommodation, Mrs Bennet?” said Wickham, with a large sip of his brandy.
Mr Bennet groaned inwardly and took a larger sip of his own.
“It is called The Slug, Mr Wickham,” she said gloomily. “It is a wretched little hotel. Our room is a wretched little room. It is small, cold and damp. And the cheese has blue mould running through it.”
“Was it Stilton, Mrs Bennet?” said Wickham, amused.
“I think that’s what they called it, yes. The bed is squeaky, the mattress is lumpy, and the furniture is uncomfortable. A chair collapsed under me when I sat upon it yesterday. It seemed to amuse Mr Bennet for some reason. And did I tell you? It is called The Slug.”
“Well perhaps you should consider changing your accommodation,” said Wickham smoothly.
“Change our accommodation, Mr Wickham?” she said.
“Yes, why not. I hear there is a room available at The Grand.”
“A room available? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I believe it’s right next to the suite currently occupied by Mr Darcy and your daughter.”
“Do you hear that, Mr Bennet? There is a room available at The Grand and it is right next to the suite currently occupied by Lizzy and our son in law.”
Mr Bennet looked helplessly at Mr Wickham. It was a look which mingled disbelief, horror and, strangely enough, wry amusement. Mr Wickham returned his look, his face blank and showing no emotion, save for a little smirk around the mouth.
“You really should return to The Grand at once, Mrs Bennet,” said Wickham, “for it would be a great pity if somebody were to reserve the room before you.”
“Yes, you are quite right, Mr Wickham. He is quite right, Mr Bennet. We should return forthwith to ensure we reserve the room first. But first we should order luncheon. I intend to order soup and bread, a large joint of mutton, potatoes, carrots, spinach and cabbage. And a large piece of sponge pudding with cream on it. And afterwards, perhaps a wedge of cheese without blue mould running through it.”
“What about me?” said Mary. “Will I stay at The Grand too? For if there is only one room available, where will I sleep?”
“It’s no matter, Mary,” said Mrs Bennet. “You can stay in the room with your father and I.”
Mr Bennet’s face fell. He knew that the room at The Grand would be much more costly than their room at The Slug. Furthermore, aside from the opportunities to drink wine and brandy, there had been another compensation of staying at The Slug. Namely, that by placing Mary in a room on her own some distance from their own, he and Mrs Bennet had been able to enjoy marital relations undisturbed and without fear of making too much noise (both Mrs Bennet and himself, especially when she did that thing to him that he liked with her fingers).
Mrs Bennet ate her luncheon with gusto and the family returned to The Grand. Reluctantly Mr Bennet made enquiries and was informed that, happily, a room was available. And it was confirmed that it was next to the large suite.
“It’s splendid, isn’t it, Mr Bennet?” said Mrs Bennet eagerly.
“Yes, my dear, splendid,” said Mr Bennet, somewhat less eagerly.
“Somebody will need to bear the good news to Mr and Mrs Darcy,” said Wickham. “Would you like me to tell them?”
“That is most generous of you, Mr Wickham,” said Mrs Bennet.
“It would be my pleasure. My very great pleasure,” said Wickham with a glittering smile.
“When will you tell them?”
“Perhaps I should inform them at once. I could go now to their suite if you wish?”
“You are too, too kind, Mr Wickham. Isn’t he kind, Mr Bennet?”
“Yes,” said Mr Bennet with a steady look at Wickham, “very kind indeed. But suppose they are still in bed?”
“Mr Bennet, it’s four o’clock in the afternoon. Why on earth would they still be in bed?”
“I would be if I were him,” said Mr Bennet under his breath.
Mr Wickham proceeded at once to Darcy and Lizzy’s suite. Lizzy and Darcy were indeed still in bed. They had been in bed all day. They had made love all day, from the moment they awoke. Mr Darcy had been on top. He had taken Lizzy from behind. He had been on his back while Lizzy straddled him and slid herself up and down the shaft of his manhood. Both now lay in bed, happy and crushed with blissful exhaustion, drained of most of their bodily fluids.
Wickham rapped smartly on the door. Darcy put on his dressing gown and went wearily to the door.
“Wickham? What on earth do you want?”
“I am the bearer of good news, Darcy old fellow. I bring a message of great joy from our mother in law.”
Darcy grimaced. It annoyed him that he and the detested Mr Wickham were related, even by marriage.
“Well?” he said shortly. “What news?”
“You may have heard,” said Wickham, carelessly brushing a little lint from his hat, “that our mother in law was not very happy with her accommodation. She said her room was small, cold and damp. And she didn’t like the cheese. Consequently, it was suggested to her that she find alternative rooms. It was further suggested that she might reserve a room here at The Grand.”
“Suggested? Suggested by whom?”
“Why myself, of course. Furthermore, I made her aware that there is a room vacant right next to the large suite. Your suite.”
“Good god, Wickham, I know we are enemies, but I didn’t know you hated me this much.”
“Hate? No, I don’t hate you, Mr Darcy,” said Wickham coolly. “In fact, I rarely think of you at all. Farewell. Perhaps we will meet later for dinner. Or perhaps at breakfast. I’m sure Mrs Bennet would like to join us.”
“Goodbye, Wickham.”
Wickham put on his hat and tapped the crown to tighten it on his head.
“One other thing, Darcy old fellow,” he said as he turned to take his leave.
“Well?”
“I hear the walls between your suite and the adjoining room are rather thin.”
Wickham sauntered down the corridor to report to Mrs Bennet that he had informed Mr Darcy of the good news and that Mr Darcy hoped that they might all meet together at dinner and perhaps at breakfast tomorrow.
In their suite, Darcy went into the bed chamber. Lizzy lay naked on the bed, her legs parted for him and an inviting smile on her lips.
“Well, husband, are you going to love me again? You may need to be gentle with me for I am a little sore.”
“I’m afraid not, Lizzy. I am afraid our delayed honeymoon may be spoiled once more.”
“Why, my love? What has happened?”
“Wickham has been here. He has informed me that you mother, father and sister are to be staying here at The Grand from now on. He says they will be staying at the room adjoining our suite.”
“Oh,” said Lizzy. She thought for a few moments.
“Then we will just have to be quiet, that’s all. Quiet when we make
love I mean.”
“I know what you mean, Lizzy, but you are never quiet when we make love. For that matter, neither am I, whenever you do certain things to me. And he informed me the walls between our rooms are very thin.”
“Then we will just have to make the best of it.”
“I suppose you’re right, my love. Perhaps we have time to make enjoy each other’s bodies once more while they are getting their things from The Slug.”
“Yes, I’m sure we have,” she said with a little wiggle of her eyebrows.
He slipped off his dressing gown and stepped towards the bed where his wife lay on her back. At the sight of her full breasts and parted legs revealing the soft pinkness of her secret place to him, he quickly became erect once more. They had a marvelous, intense quickie and made as much noise as they liked in the few minutes available to them.
Afterwards they lounged blissfully on the bed.
“I suppose it could be worse,” said Darcy with a languid smile.
“How so?” said Lizzy turning to him.
“Mr Collins might have been here too. He always seems to show his weasley little face at the most inappropriate of times.
Mr Darcy did not know, and could not have known, that at that moment a coach drew to a halt outside The Grand. Mr Collins put his head out of the window.
“Well, Mrs Collins, this is the place. I have received reports that they are staying here.”
“Do you really think we should be interrupting them, William? After all, they are on holiday together.”
“Of course,” said Mr Collins, “for they will be in want of spiritual guidance. And I will be able to deliver my new sermon to them direct.”
SEXY HALLOWEEN LOVE
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that when a man has been married for some time, he will discover certain things that he likes his wife to do to him in the bed chamber.
Darcy and Lizzy lay in bed one chilly October morning. They were having a rare argument, one of those arguments which usually ends in them making up in a very pleasing way.
“Elizabeth Darcy, I tell you again, I do not want my house and grounds opened up to various individuals of dubious morality to indulge themselves in ancient pagan celebrations.”