Authors: Charles Devereaux
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Victorian
'After a few more thrilling caresses on the part of each of us Charlie said, "Now, Lizzie!" and lifting me up in his great strong arms, he carried me like a baby to the other side of the bed where he laid me down on my back, pulling the sheets down. Oh! I was inclined to have him! My whole body panted for him! My bubbies seemed to be swelling as if they would burst and the little red nipples on them were as hard as peas and tickling me! As for my cunt, it was raging! Such a throbbing as went on in it I had never felt before, not even when he had half fucked me at Canterbury. I expected him between my thighs, which I opened for him, but instead of taking his place there at once, my irritating lover commenced kissing me on the mouth, cheeks, eyes, ears, throat and all of that part, whilst his hand wandered over my bosom from bubbie to bubbie, which he tenderly felt and pressed. He did not seem to be in half the hurry I was. If his intentions were to drive me half frantic with desire, to raise up all that was lascivious in my senses, he certainly succeeded to perfection! But really he was right. I always think a good preliminary engagement of hands and lips makes a fuck much more delicious than when one comes to close quarters without any at all. Charlie's lips descended from my lips to my bosom. He laid his head between my breasts and turning it from side to side kissed each bubbie as his lips encountered its warm, rounded side, and whilst so doing his naughty hand crept, crept, crept over my belly, down my groin, down my thighs, up again, all round my motte, then skimmed my bush with its fingertips, then just touched, but no more, the line of my cunnie, until I could hardly endure the almost agonising pleasure he caused me! Then suddenly he took a firm bite of one breast, and in went his strong finger, right up to the knuckle, with a bang against my cunt, and this he repeated, biting, but not hurting, my other bubbie; then, with repeated kisses, his mouth roved over my belly, down one groin, down that thigh, up the other, just like his hand had done, until suddenly he brought it up right to my quivering cunnie, which he almost burnt with his kisses! I could feel his tongue darting at my agitated, excited clitoris, and at last, unable to bear it any longer, I almost screamed to him to leave off that, and give me what I craved for. He turned a dreamy look at me, then suddenly seemed to wake up, as it were.
'"Oh! I nearly forgot!" said he as he ran to the mantelpiece and brought from it what looked like a pot of pomatum. "This is cold cream, my Lizzie! As you have never had all me inside you yet, and your delicious little cunt it as tight as can be, some of this will help us both! Hold the pot, darling, and let me anoint your cunnie Queen of my Prick!"
'He took fingerful after fingerful of the cream, and put so much of its cool substance inside my cunt I thought he meant me to have it all. It was so sweet and cool and pleasant, I liked it for its own sake as much as for the sake of feeling his finger push it as far in as it could.
'"Now," said he, "anoint my prick King of your Sweet Cunt, my Lizzie!' and he turned that awful mad-looking weapon towards me. I took it, close to the root, with my left hand, and with my right I anointed its head; as I stroked the cream down, its hood slipped right off, and gathered behind its spreading shoulders, and here Charlie made me put a great lot of the cream. Then with both hands I, by his directions, put all that remained in the pot on the shaft of his prick, until it shone as though dipped in oil! Oh! the feeling of that prick! I am sure you remember the excitement you must have felt the first time you had a good, free and complete "feel" of a girl, Charlie? Well! think of what I experienced, for that grand prick, those glorious balls, were all mine, to press and caress in perfect freedom for the first time.
'Charlie made me wipe my hands on his curly hair and then, with a triumphant, "Now Lizzie, open your thighs! Now, for heaven and bliss and all that is delicious!" he pushed me on to my back, and was between my willingly opened arms and thighs before I could wink! He made me introduce himself into my cunnie, then he put one hand under my head and the other under my hips and with a slight pressure forced, or, rather, easily slid, his weapon in as far as it had ever gone before. At first, as if careful not to raise any doubts in my mind, he contented himself with toying in and out, as he had done at Canterbury, giving me delicious pleasure, but suddenly he gave a thrust which stopped my breath, and he kept up such a fearful pressure that it began to hurt me not a little but a good deal, I can tell you.
'"Oh! Charlie!" I cried out, "Don't, darling, you are hurting me dreadfully."
'He said nothing, but gave me a kiss; then laid his cheek to mine, and gathered me more firmly than ever in his arms, and again seemed to burst violently into my insides!
'I almost screamed but Charlie would not listen to my entreaties! Again and again did he batter, and at last, with a sickening sensation of rending and tearing, I felt that the obstacle, whatever it was, had gone before his dreadful prick, and that each stroke, each thrust, was carrying it deeper and deeper into my insides! I really feared he had burst my poor little cunnie, and that I should die, in consequence; but, before I could express myself in words, I felt that every atom of that awful prick was buried in me, for I could feel Charlie's balls against me distinctly, and as for our bellies, they were completely pressed together, as well as our mottes! Then Charlie relaxed that tremendous grip on me, and raising his face looked eagerly into mine, and smiled and kissed me and said, "Ah! Lizzie, darling! I hope I did not hurt you very much. You had such a dreadfully tough little maidenhead, and your little cunt is a tight one - so much the better! for you will have the more pleasure! Do I hurt you now, darling?" and he kissed me tenderly.
'"Not now! but oh, Charlie! you don't know how much you did hurt me! I hope you have not done me any harm!"
'"Not a bit," said he laughing. "I am glad it does not hurt you! But now for pleasure, my Lizzie! You lie quite still and let me fuck you quietly and you will see whether you won't forget any pain I gave you."
'Then commenced those splendid, exciting, thrilling, long strokes. Even that very first time I felt great pleasure from them, and afterwards, when all soreness had completely disappeared, every time was like plunging into a new world! My cunt was like a violin, and Charlie's prick like the bow, and every stroke raised the most ravishing melody on the senses that could be experienced or imagined! Oh! I am sure he was right when he said that never was there a girl so plainly brought into the world for fucking and fucking only, as myself ! I adore it! I can't live without it! And at times I cannot imagine how any man or woman can pass a day without having it at least once or twice.
'That was how I lost my maidenhead before I knew I had one! Ah! That week at Dover will always be remembered by me as the most exquisite in my life. Charlie was never done! He was so kind too! He took me for long drives, showed me the castle, took me out boating; we laid perfect fairy plans for our future. I was to be his own pet love! I was to live in a sweet little house in London, to have my own carriage and servants and all that I could want, and I should be his darling mistress, almost his wife. Not once did I remember my poor mother, or my duty to her as a child. I declare it seems most terribly selfish - but oh! I was ravished with my lover, and the whole world seemed centred in him! And yet when the test of that cunt-burning love came to be applied, you will see how it stood.
'Yes! Yes! It was an exquisite dream! Such a dream as I have often wished to have again but never in my happiest moments since have been able to approach!
'Well, it was all settled. Charlie's leave would be up now that our six days' honeymoon was spent. We were to have one more blissful night in one another's arms, and oh! how I had learned to love being well fucked! How I had come to appreciate its ravishing joys, its indescribable delights!
'We were, I say, to have one more night at Dover, and then Charlie was to take me to London, leave me in a hotel for a day, get more leave, and come and hunt up a nice little house for me, etc., etc., as he had planned, and I was to be his kept mistress. The idea of returning to Canterbury to my mother had completely faded from my mind. From her arms I had been snatched away to quite another and perfectly different life, and like the brilliant fly, I could no longer think of resuming my life as a grub. The thing was impossible, so impossible that I never gave it a single thought.
'But - ah! there are a good many "buts" in the world, which like stones in the road are apt to upset the steadiest and most courageous - but, the last evening of our stay in the Ship Hotel a note was brought to me, just as I was going to take off my things. Charlie and I had been for a long drive over to the camp at Shorncliffe. A glance at the writing showed me it was from my mother! I dropped on to a chair and Charlie, seeing me look as if I should faint, ran up in alarm.
'"What is it, my darling? Who is this from?"
'"Oh! Charlie," I ejaculated, "it is from my mother!"
'"The devil! What does she want? What business is it of hers, I should like to know, to come interfering?" cried poor Charlie, who forgot that she had every possible business to do so.
'"What does she say?" he went on impatiently, for I had not the courage to open the note but held it in my shaking hand. "Here, girl! give it to me! Let me see what the old - h'm - old lady says. Lizzie, your mother says she is on the pier and asks you to come out for a moment to see her, or she will come in and see you here! You had better go, darling! It would not do to have her kick up a row in here. Will you go with her if she asks you, Lizzie? Tell me! God damn and blast it all! What an unfortunate thing! Lizzie, Lizzie! You must not leave me! I cannot live without you! I must have you! Do you hear?"
'I was drowned in tears and my bosom was torn with sobs. I love Charlie! Oh! I did! What girl would not love a lover who had adored, worshipped and fucked her as Charlie had me? But on the other hand, I loved my mother too. How dearly I did not know until now. The two affections, the old and the new, wrestled within me. I was at the parting of the ways, and if it had been possible I would have liked to have walked on both of the roads.
'"Oh! Charlie!" I cried, as I threw myself in his arms, "I cannot say! I cannot say! Perhaps mother will tell me that after what I have done she won't have me home again!"
'"And then!" cried poor Charlie eagerly.
'"And then, of course, I would come with you, Charlie."
'"That means if your mother - confound her! - says come home, Lizzie, you will leave me?"
'"Can't I go home with her if she will have me and come to you another time, Charlie dearest?" said I.
'"Well," he cried, "now let us get rid of this uncertainty, Lizzie! Though it rests with you, I fancy! If you had any pluck at all you would send her word that you could not see her!"
'"Then she would come in here, Charlie. You don't know my mother! She is very kind, but if she says she will do a thing, she does it!"
'"By Jove! Yes! I forgot! She would come in here and then there would be a devil of a row! Run! Lizzie! run, and keep her out like a good girl!"
'I dried my eyes, went quickly downstairs, out of the hotel and on to the pier, along which I walked, straining my eyes in the fast gathering darkness to see where my mother could be. At last I saw a figure standing just in front of the recess, and I recognised my mother and flew to her. She received me with open arms, folding me tightly to her bosom, and there we both stood clasped together, and both sobbing as if our hearts would break.
'Charlie, I can't go into the details of that sad meeting. You must spare me and let me only say that my mother did not say one word of upbraiding or scolding; she told me that she had nearly died of fear and sorrow when she found me gone and keeping her wits about her she spread no report, asked nobody about me, but putting two and two together came to the conclusion that if I had gone with anybody it would probably have been an officer of the Hussars. Then she found out that Captain Vincent had his stables behind our house and that he had gone on leave from the very day I had disappeared and accidentally she saw his name and that of his wife in the Dover papers, as being at the Ship. She had found out that he was not married, had come straight to Dover, on a chance had sent the note, hoping that the Honourable Mrs Vincent might be myself, as indeed it was! She said that whatever mischief had been done had been done, and that the only thing to do was not to make it worse by raising a scandal. She told me to go back to Charlie, to stay with him for the night, to manage to return home after dark to Canterbury, where she would meet me and have a cab ready outside the station. Our reserved and quiet way of living had prevented our neighbours noticing my absence, and unless some future event happened nobody need know anything about it.
'All my dreams of a little house in London came to an end. I loved my Charlie, it is true, but it was cunt love more than that of the heart, and my mother easily prevailed on me to give him up.
'Charlie, poor fellow, was overjoyed when he saw me return. He fancied I was coming back for good, and his disappointment was intense and bitter when he knew that I had firmly resolved to return to my own home, and not to go to London with him! but presently when the first bitter draught was swallowed, he said that of all wonderfully wise women he had ever heard of, my mother beat all in getting me back to him for the night.
'Ah! well! I had a quiet and not altogether unhappy life with my mother until I was fifteen. The Hussars had left Canterbury and though I naturally often thought of Charlie, I was rather indignant that he never apparently once tried to see me again. He told me afterwards that he had done all he could think of to get letters to me. Perhaps my mother intercepted them. I never got any of them. I hate the next episode in my life. One day I met a sergeant, dressed in the old and beloved Hussar uniform. I got talking to him, and from talking to walking, and from walking to lovemaking, and from lovemaking to fucking! I could not help it! I wanted a man most dreadfully, and all my cunt's old fire came back at the sight of the Hussar uniform. Of course, I acted deceitfully, and kept all from my mother, who had hoped by trusting me fully to prevent all such action on my part. My new lover was only on furlough. He had not been gone long before I found I was, this time, let in for a baby. My distraction nearly killed me, and all the more because I feared to tell my mother. But time told her. My figure lost its elegant shape and I had to confess - the awful, awful pain of that confession. But true to herself, my mother lost none of her wits. She found out my second seducer, went and saw him, found him to be the master tailor of the regiment, told him what an excellent dressmaker I was, proposed marriage, held out the promise of a fair dowry, her savings for many years - poor mother! - and I was married to Sergeant Thomas Wilson in time to save the legitimacy of my baby. But we did not live happily.