by G Scott Gray
“Now that you are all here, would you do me the privilege of hearing my All Saints day sermon on the evils of drink, the evils of fleshly love - commonly called fornication - and the necessity of avoiding temptation at all times?”
Lydia and Wickham glanced at Charlotte Collins with a grin.
Everybody was in a good mood. Darcy and Lizzy because the celebrations had gone well (and were almost at an end). Jane and Charles because they were always in a good mood (to the irritation of others). Mary because she had given an excellent reading of Mrs Radcliffe. Uncle Gardiner because he had hidden several choice bottles of Darcy’s wine in his luggage. Kitty and Caroline because they had found true love in each other. Mrs Bennet because the breakfast was excellent. Lydia and Wickham because they had helped Charlotte. And Charlotte herself because she had finally fulfilled her womanly needs. Several times.
As a result, they allowed Mr Collins to read his sermon. And even though he read every one of the twenty pages and it lasted for some time, they all managed to find a way through it.
Darcy and Lizzy made their excuses and left to organise the coaches home. Jane and Charles listened with interest. Mary read Mrs Radcliffe’s novel. Uncle Gardiner sneaked off to the cellar. Kitty and Caroline looked at each other and didn’t hear a word. Mrs Bennet ate her breakfast noisily. Lydia and Wickham talked quietly. And Charlotte thought about the night before in Wickham and Lydia’s bed chamber, remembering every detail.
Mr Collins finished his sermon and sat down to a smattering of polite applause and a loud raspberry from Uncle Gardiner.
When everybody had finished breakfast, Darcy stood up and addressed the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes the celebrations for Halloween. I trust that you have enjoyed yourselves.”
Again, there was a smattering of applause.
“I was uncertain at first whether or not we should have such a part at Pemberley. However, my wife managed to persuade me that we should.”
He looked at Lizzy and she grinned back and made an odd little twirling gesture with the forefinger of her right hand.
“So,” went on Darcy, “coaches have been ordered to take you to your respective homes. Once your trunks are packed, please inform one of the servants and he will arrange to have it brought down to the coaches.”
The guests dispersed and went upstairs to pack their luggage. Boxes were carried down by servants; some were heavy, some were light. It took four servants to carry down Uncle Gardiner’s trunk and when it was set down on the floor there was a distinct clinking of glass from within.
Farewells were made and the guests departed from Pemberley.
Darcy and Lizzy stood at the main door and waved as each coach departed.
“I’ve just been down to the wine cellar,” said Darcy from the side of his mouth.
“Oh, really?” said Lizzy.
“Yes. I think your uncle has drunk it dry. I need to place another order with my vintner. A large one.”
Lizzy could not help laughing.
“It’s no laughing matter, Lizzy. He’s had all the good stuff.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Fitzwilliam,” she said breezily. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?” he said.
“When they’ve all gone, we’ll go upstairs to our bed chamber and I’ll do that thing you like.”
Again, she made a twirling gesture with the forefinger of her right hand.
The last to leave were Mr and Mrs Wickham and Mr and Mrs Collins.
“Well, Mr Collins,” said Wickham, “I trust you have had a pleasant time at Pemberley?”
“I spent most of it asleep,” said Mr Collins. “And there were no All Saints day celebrations.”
“I told you, William,” said Mrs Collins, “you must have misinterpreted the invitation.”
“Possibly,” he said.
“Anyway,” said Mrs Collins, “I had a wonderful time.”
“Yes,” said Wickham, “it was very pleasant to see you both again.”
“And,” said Lydia, “it would be most pleasant to see you both again on another occasion.”
“Indeed,” said Wickham, “we would very much like to have you again, Mrs Collins. Wouldn’t we, Lydia?”
“Oh, very much,” agreed Lydia.
Mrs Collins blushed a little and looked down at the floor.
Mr Collins brightened. He relished the opportunity of meeting Wickham and Lydia again. For he had heard rumours that they were wicked people who had indulged in pleasures of the flesh, prior to being married before God. And that they still indulged, sometimes more than once a week with the candles still lit. This might give him the opportunity to save their souls.
“Yes, I would rather enjoy that, I think,” he said.
“Splendid,” said Wickham.
Mr and Mrs Collins’ coach arrived. Mr Collins went to speak to the servants about his trunk.
“I will ensure that I bring a good quantity of sleeping draughts,” said Mrs Collins to Wickham and Lydia.
“Well actually, Mrs Collins,” said Wickham, “Lydia and I were discussing the matter this morning when we awoke.”
“George did most of the talking,” said Lydia with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “I had my mouth full at the time, didn’t I George?”
“You certainly did, my pet,” said Wickham fondly.
“And George suggested,” went on Lydia, “that if three of us together in the bed chamber was most pleasant, just think how much more pleasant it might be if there were four of us?”
“Four,” said Mrs Collins, surprised. “You mean my husband too?”
“Yes,” said Wickham. “You say he pays scant attention to your womanly needs. Well, it can’t be because you’re not attractive, we know that.”
“Thank you,” said Mrs Collins, blushing again.
“I believe,” Wickham continued, “it is because he lacks education in such matters.”
“And I am an excellent teacher,” said Lydia…
SEXY FUN WITH COUGARS
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that when a husband is unable to fulfil his marital duties, his wife may try to fill the void with a younger and more energetic man. Especially if the younger man enjoys the company of older ladies.
Mr and Mrs Bennet had been married for many years.
Although Mrs Bennet could be difficult, even exasperating, Mr Bennet still found her very pleasing, especially in the bed chamber. She was nicely plump with a smooth, rounded belly, full breasts which were ripe but still firm and a large bottom which Mr Bennet liked to slap playfully from time to time. In spite of having borne five children, her secret womanly place was still tight and juicy with a smattering of wispy hair above; not too much, not too little.
In short Mr Bennet found her a very attractive woman and they still enjoyed very vigorous marital relations on a very regular basis.
One morning their five daughters went for a walk in the little village nearby. It seemed that the regiment was staying for the day while on the march to the South Coast to cross the narrow sea into France, thence to fight Napoleon. Their daughters were all of marriageable age and were actively seeking husbands with whom they could settle.
“How long will you be gone?” Mrs Bennet asked them.
“Oh, a couple of hours I should think,” said Jane, the eldest.
“Well, enjoy yourselves, don’t hurry back,” said Mrs Bennet.
“If you’re concerned, Mother,” said Lydia, the youngest sister, “then just tell father to tie his cravat on the front door handle.”
“Do you hear that, Mr Bennet?” said the venerable lady. “Did you hear the way in which your daughter speaks to me? I sometimes think it is more than my poor nerves can bear.”
“I’m sorry, my dear,” said Mr Bennet. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes. I am going to retire to my bed chamber. You may bring me a cup of cordial.”
She watched as her daughters put on their bonnets and prepar
ed to leave the cottage.
“In about five minutes,” she continued.
As Mr Bennet prepared the cordial in the kitchen his daughters kissed him goodbye and went to meet the soldiers, laughing gayly and skipping through the fields of bright yellow flowers.
Mr Bennet took the cordial and opened the door of the bed chamber. To his surprise and delight, his wife lay naked on the bed. Her legs were open to give him a perfect view of the secret place betwixt her thighs, glistening with arousal. She smiled at him seductively, her hands behind her head
“Hurry up, Mr Bennet, our daughters will return soon.”
“They said they’d be two hours,” he said.
“That’s what I mean. Now take off those tight white trousers and come over here.”
He quickly undressed and stood at the end of the bed, looking down at her. She watched with evident pleasure as his manhood steadily rose to a very satisfactory erection.
“How would you like me to commence, Mrs Bennet?”
“With your tongue, I think, Mr Bennet,” she said, splaying herself a little wider for him.
He loved licking his wife in that particular place and eagerly put his head between her legs. He drew his tongue, in one full sweep, from just above her bottom all the way up the soft folds to the little rosebud of sensitive flesh. She gasped at his touch and moaned softly, repeating his name as he pressed his tongue against her most sensitive spot.
“Oh, Mr Bennet, Mr Bennet, that is very pleasing, pray do not stop.”
Not only did he not stop but he went faster and increased the pressure on her womanhood, licking faster with the rough and raspy, upper side of his tongue, making her twitch and squirm. He pulled her legs apart further, fondling her with his fingers in that sensitive place where her inner thigh joins with the lowermost part of her belly. It made her feel wonderful, an exquisite surge of pleasure which ran through her entire body.
Mr Bennet enjoyed pleasing her like this. He loved the touch of her silky flesh and the smell and taste of her musky juices as well as the sound of her happy little squeals and moans. The sounds became louder and more frequent as she approached her climactic moment and she urged him to continue. With perfect judgement, Mr Bennet withdrew his tongue. He eased himself on top of his wife and pulled her legs a little further apart. He slid his erect member fully inside her, and loved her, with passion and tenderness, knowing that she was so close from the attentions of his tongue that she would reach the height of fulfilment very soon. And so aroused was he by tasting her sex that his own climax would coincide with hers.
He kissed her often and looked into her eyes with a foolish looking smile. She smiled back at him, her poor nerves forgotten for the moment. He thrust his hips back and forth with the passion of his love for his wife and just as she cried out in ecstatic bliss, his hot seed spurted deep inside her, sending wave after wave of joyous pleasure through her entire body.
Afterwards they rested, naked together on the bed.
“Mr Bennet, that was most enjoyable.”
“Thank you, my dear. You were wonderful too. Your body is still very flexible and you are still very tight and juicy betwixt your legs. And your breasts are still plump yet firm.”
“Why, Mr Bennet, you have such a silver tongue.”
“And I know you like what I do with my silver tongue.”
“How long did you say our daughters would be in the village?”
“I imagine they will not return for another hour or so.”
“Splendid,” said Mrs Bennet. “Now, do you need another twenty minutes to recover, Mr Bennet?”
“I think not, Mrs Bennet. A drink of cordial should suffice.”
He got out of bed and walked naked to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of cordial and drained it in one thirsty gulp. He returned to the bed chamber and looked at his wife, naked and very alluring with the bed covers thrown back. He climbed into bed next to her.
“Are you sure you don’t need a little longer, Mr Bennet? After all you’re not as young as you used to be.”
He did not reply. Instead he flipped Mrs Bennet over onto her stomach and pulled her up onto all fours. He shuffled forward on his knees until he was kneeling directly behind her. He pushed his knees between hers and pushed her legs open further and with one easy movement thrust his rampant member inside her. He loved her from behind, hard and fast, his thighs slapping against her ample buttocks. Her breasts swung back and forth beneath her. Her little moans and cries aroused him still further and it was not too long before they enjoyed a marvellous climax together.
Afterwards they lay on the bed, exchanging many fond kisses and gentle strokes of the fingers on each other’s sensitive skin. Finally, they got out of bed, washed themselves with cold water from an earthenware pitcher and got dressed. They tidied the bed and emerged from the bed chamber just as their daughters returned from their visit to the village.
“Well, girls,” said Mrs Bennet, “did you enjoy yourselves”
“We had a wonderful time, mama,” said Lydia. “I met a handsome young soldier called Mr Wickham.”
“Indeed?” said Mr Bennet.
“Yes. He was very young and very handsome.”
“You said that,” said Mrs Bennet.
“And what did you do while we were gone?” said Jane.
“Oh, we managed to entertain ourselves. Didn’t we, Mr Bennet?”
“Twice,” said Mr Bennet with a sly wink at his wife.
“Well I hope you drank some cordial, father,” said Lizzy. “You’re not as young as you used to be.”
“Thank you, Lizzy,” he said.
Mr and Mrs Bennet enjoyed each other’s company in the bed chamber; the birth of five daughters was testament to that. It could be difficult however to be completely comfortable when they were not alone in the house. They did the best they could, and the best was usually very good indeed. And on those rare occasions when they were alone in the house they enjoyed glorious love making, blissfully oblivious to anything in the world except each other and their mutual pleasure.
One sad day though, shortly after the Bennet girls had gone to the village to see the soldiers, Mr Bennet fell off his horse. He broke his leg and his collar bone, and his physician informed him that any vigorous activity was out of the question for at least six weeks.
“What do you mean by vigorous activity?” said Mr Bennet.
“I mean anything which could complicate your injuries,” said the physician.
“You mean he won’t be able to ride?” said Mrs Bennet.
“That’s right,” said the physician.
“For six weeks?”
“That’s right,” said the physician.
“I don’t just mean on his horse, you know,” said Mrs Bennet.
“I know what you mean, Mrs Bennet. I am afraid you will not be able to indulge in any kind of marital relations in the bed chamber.”
“What if I was on top?” said the good lady.
“I think not, madam,” said the physician.
“Could I not use my mouth to please his manhood?”
“No,” said the physician, with a finality which was not to be ‘gainsaid.
“Thank you, doctor,” said Mr Bennet wearily
“I will send my bill tomorrow.”
The doctor left and Mrs Bennet looked at her husband mournfully.
“Oh, Mr Bennet, what am I to do? You know how I enjoy your attentions in the bed chamber. If I do not receive the attentions of your manhood at least twice a week, then I do not know what will become of my poor nerves. Oh, my poor nerves.”
“I am truly sorry, my dear,” he said, “but you heard what the physician said.”
Alone in the bed chamber they discussed what was to be done. Mr Bennet would be incapacitated for some time and unable to fulfil his duties as a husband. Mrs Bennet however had desires which needed to be fulfilled; several times a week and with some force.
“You have your marital toy, my dear,” suggest
ed Mr Bennet.
“My marital toy?”
“Yes, the wooden phallus in your drawer. The one you use sometimes when I’m away for a day on business.”
“Oh yes, the phallus I keep in my drawer. I think you rather like it too, don’t you, Mr Bennet?”
Mr Bennet blushed. He liked it very much on those rare occasions when the house was empty and there was nobody to hear his cries when his wife slowly inserted six inches of smooth, polished wood in his bottom.
“Well, it’s pleasant enough when I play with it,” she said. “But that’s only for a day. Six weeks is quite another matter. I like to have you on top of me or close behind me, so I can feel your hot breath on my neck. It’s just not the same.”
“I understand, my dear,” he said sympathetically. “I understand that you need to be satisfied.”
Mr Bennet sat deep in thought for several minutes. He felt guilty that he would be unable to pleasure his wife for several weeks. In his guilt he began to feel a little sorry for himself.
“Perhaps I’m getting old and you need a younger man,” he said.
“A younger man, Mr Bennet?”
“Sorry, my dear, I am just indulging in a little self pity.”
“No, no, Mr Bennet. A younger man might serve our purpose.”
“I didn’t really mean it, Mrs Bennet,” he said.
“Well, you have said it. And it may be an excellent suggestion. Don’t be selfish. And don’t look at me so mournfully. I’d let you watch us of course, while he serviced me, whoever he was.”
Mr Bennet thought about it for a moment, then smiled. It had always been a fantasy of his to watch another man make love to his wife while he stroked his hard manhood.
“Now that I think about it, Mrs Bennet, it might be amusing. The only question is, who shall be the lucky young man.”
“I don’t know. The militia are in town.”
“The militia?” said her husband shocked.
“I don’t mean the whole militia, Mr Bennet. I mean one of those young soldiers. Yes, I rather like the way they look with those red jackets and tight white trousers and those tall hats with the plumes. Yes, one of those young soldiers might be most agreeable.”