The Romance of Lust: A classic Victorian erotic novel

We had both returned to the drawing room for more than an hour before the arrival of the ladies. Dear Mary complained of feeling sore and stiff in every limb. I had advised her to lie down on the sofa and try to sleep. I did the same, and happily we both dozed off, and never awoke until the loud rat-tat of arrival at the house door roused us up. I told Mary to hide all appearance of pain, and only to say, as an excuse for going early to bed, that we had gone further afield than we at first intended, and that she was very tired. We were both sent early to bed, for I was still treated as quite a boy, and I was sound asleep when my charming Mrs. B. woke me up by her warm caresses. I could well have spared them that night, but when did one of my years not respond to the endearments of the woman he loved, and who yielded all to him. She sucked me dry as usual, and I slept soundly till morning. The next three days passed without anything to record. Mary did not allow her real soreness to appear, but heroically went through her sufferings, for she told me afterwards she felt very severe pains all over, doubtless her whole nervous system had been overexcited, and this was the natural reaction; it was so far fortunate that not a shadow of a chance of our having fresh connection occurred, so she had time to perfectly recover from the ill effects of her first initiation into the erotic raptures. I continued to have the relief each night of the charming mouth of my loved and beautiful instructress. At last, the abominable _menses_, as she called them, were past and gone. For a full twenty-four hours after, she would not allow me to reassume all the privileges she had previously granted, and admit me to share her bed. She told me this was necessary to prevent any recurrence, and also that in some cases a virulent white discharge occasionally followed for some hours, sufficiently acrid to affect my local health, and “that,” she added, “was now too precious in her estimation to risk it in any way.” I thought it hard at the time, but it was only another proof of the thoughtful wisdom of this estimable woman. At last, I was again in full possession of her charming person. Oh! how we did revel in all the luxuries and lubricity; almost every night my enchanting friend found some new position to vary and enhance our erotic raptures. One new dose was laying me down flat on my back, then straddling over me, she sank on her knees, and with body erect, lifted up or rather bent back my stiff-standing prick, until he was fairly below her open cunt, then guiding it exactly to the proper entrance, she sank her body slowly down upon it until fully engulphed, hair crushed hair, then as slowly raising again, she drew off until all but the nut was uncovered, to again sink down. In this position we could both see the whole process. At length, becoming too excited, she sank on my bosom, then one arm and hand pressed her splendid buttocks down on my throbbing prick after every elevation of her magnificent backside while my other hand, doubling round behind her, introduced the middle finger up her charming bottom-hole, and worked in and out in unison with both our heaving movements, until stopped by the grand crisis, when death-like languor overcame us both almost at the same moment. I must not forget to mention that from time to time I paid a visit to the small and rosy orifice that lay so near to the more legitimate altar of Venus. It was a variety of enjoyment that my lovely mistress acknowledged to me she at times felt much inclined to enjoy, but only after having the front path of pleasure well fucked and lubricated with sperm, which alone caused the other mucous membrane to feel inclined that way. I will here insert a characteristic letter from my loved mistress to her intimate and bosom school friend, with the reply thereto. It was several years before they were shown to me, and some time after I had possessed _both_ the charming writers, for we all three became fast friends; indeed, I may call myself or rather my prick, the pivot on which their friendship turned, yet there never was the shade of jealousy on either part, but in these remarks I am anticipating what I may, perhaps, be hereafter tempted to describe more fully. I give these letters now, because they immediately refer to the events I am at present relating. They show the secret working of my loved mistress’s mind, and the voluptuous nature of her temperament, and the satisfaction that my delicious initiation had given. Her affectionate and flattering remarks, relating to myself, are greater than I deserved. The following is the first letter addressed to her friend: MRS. BENSON TO THE HON. MRS. EGERTON. Dear Carry, I am about to keep my promise, and give you an account of our honeymoon. You, my dear, must be equally faithful, and reply as frankly as I am now about to write to you. Two giddier girls than you and I never entered the bonds of matrimony, or more earnestly longed for the sights connected with it. Well, after the usual breakfast, we left by rail for Leamington, where we were to pass our first night. We had a _coupé_ to ourselves; and beyond seating me on his knee, and kissing me, Fred behaved with much decency and propriety. We arrived and dined. The hour between tea and bedtime was sufficiently tedious, as both of us were naturally much preoccupied. My husband wrote a letter to mamma, telling her of our safe arrival, and of his intense happiness. After which he asked me if I would go to bed, in the most matter-of-fact way imaginable. I murmured an affirmative, scarcely knowing what to say. He rang for a candle, and told me he would follow shortly. It seemed like a dream to me. The maid showed me to a room containing a large four-post bedstead, heavily hung with curtains, and provided with old-fashioned furniture. I seated myself on the edge of the bed and began to meditate. I sat thus, for, I dare say, ten minutes, and then commenced undressing. I had put on my nightgown, and removed everything but my stockings, when I heard footsteps approach the door. I opened, and my husband entered, closed it, and turned the key. Oh! Carry, I did feel so funny. I was undressed in a bedroom with a man, and that man had a right to my person. He seated himself in an armchair, and drew me on his knee. Nothing but my thin nightgown separated my bottom from his bare knee, for he had quite undressed in an adjoining room and had nothing on but his shirt under his dressing-gown, which flew open as he sat down. He drew my lips to his, and kissing me, thrust his tongue between them, while his hand first caressed and squeezed my bosom, which, you know, is pretty full and well-developed; it then wandered down upon my thigh, pressed and felt the fleshy form. Little by little he approached my belly, and for a moment pressed my mount. These preliminaries are at all times exciting, but now they made me almost ill, so great was my confusion. Seeing this, he drew up my nightgown, and placed his hand, first on my naked thigh, then on my mount, and you know, Carry dear, what a forest I have got there. He seemed delighted with it. His fingers played with the silky curls, drawing them out to their full length, so long that it appeared to surprise him, and his eyes sparkled, and his face showed much excitement. “Open your thighs, dearest,” he whispered. I obeyed mechanically, and his middle finger forced itself between the lips of my cunt, and commenced rubbing my clitoris. You know, by experience, what an excitable one it is and to what a size it developes itself when excited. Again Fred seemed delighted with his discovery. “Does that please you, my darling?” “Yes,” I faltered out. He thrust his finger up my cunt, then rose up, threw off his dressing-gown, took me in his arms, and lifted me on the bed, placing a pillow under my head. Then letting my legs fall over the sides, he knelt on the floor, and separating my thighs with his arms, stooped and kissed my quim. He did more, he sucked and then licked with his tongue my already excited clitoris. It set me on fire, and I could not avoid showing it by the convulsive twitchings of my loins and buttocks. “Do you like that, my love?” “Oh! yes; so much!—so very much!” I was nearly mad with the excitement he was putting me into. He again stood up, and lifting my legs, his hands pressed them again and again. “What delicious legs,” he exclaimed. I could see his shirt bulging out. He leant forward, and with his arms under my legs, lifted them well up, and I felt a stiff thick thing pressing against my cunt. His left hand opened the lips, his right hand guided it between them, and a cruel push lodged its great head completely within. Neither you, or I, Carry, were strictly virgins, our fingers and other means had opened our vaginas to a certain extent. We had played too many tricks together to have left our maidenheads quite intact, so that the passage was less difficult than it might have been. Nevertheless, it had never been penetrated by the male organ, and that of my husband was of the largest. I experienced, therefore, a great deal of pain, and cried out— “Oh, my dear Fred, you hurt me dreadfully, what are you doing?” “Doing, my darling! why, I am getting into you. Have a little patience, and I will make you mad with pleasure.” Another determined thrust sent him halfway, and then with another, still more violent, he lodged himself up to the hilt within. I screamed with real pain, and struggled to free myself. “Good heavens, sir, you are killing me; I will not endure such treatment.” He heeded me not, but holding me fast by the thighs commenced shoving in and out furiously. A sensitive woman never receives an insertion of this kind with impunity. The friction began to excite feelings that first deadened the pain of entrance, and then began to awaken the delicious sensations of lubricity. The enjoyment I began to experience was delicious, and I could not refrain from heaving up to meet his thrusts. “That is right, my angel; was I not correct in saying it would soon turn from pain to pleasure? Do you not enjoy it now?” “Yes; but you make me feel so funny. I don’t know what—it—is.” His increased and rapid movement filled me with delight; I bounded up and down in response to his thrusts, and felt so queer when, all of a sudden, he gasped for breath, stopped, and I felt a greater and stiffer swelling of his instrument, and then a gush of hot liquid dashed against my womb, which continued running for some seconds. This, Carry, was my first experience of what a man can do for us. Withdrawing his huge affair—for he since admits he is larger than most men—letting go my thighs—he pressed down upon me, and tenderly embraced me, and said that I had behaved admirably; in future there would be no more pain, and from what he had already experienced he felt sure I was made for the fullest enjoyment that husband and wife could indulge in. After a little fondling, he rose, drew off my stockings, and helped me into bed, immediately following me. On throwing back the clothes to enter the bed, he said he must kiss the dear little hairy thing that had given him such pleasure. He kissed and toyed with it admiring the profusion of hair on my mount, the whiteness and beauty of my belly, and then, baring my breasts, admired, kissed, and sucked them. All this not only excited me, but I could see very well it had again caused his affair to stick out. Seeing that I was timidly glancing at it, he seized my hand, and made me lay hold of it, showed me how the skin covered and uncovered its head; then becoming rampageous, he got on my belly and between my thighs, and again introduced his cock to where it had already