The Romance of Lust: A classic Victorian erotic novel
no objections. I, therefore, at first took it for granted that Fred,
finding my naked bottom in his lap, could not resist the temptation of
entering it. I, therefore, humoured him, and so moved my bottom as to
facilitate his complete entrance, and began to feel myself the
excitement it occasioned, but as I became wider awake, I gradually
called to mind that Fred had left me, and that Charlie was my bedfellow.
The audacity of the young rogue paralysed me, but his delicious
movements had become too nice for me to think of dislodging him. He
insisted that he was quite unconscious of his mistake, and that he
believed himself buried in the delicious grotto of the night before. It
probably was so, for so perfect an ignoramus as he is, although ever so
apt a scholar in Venus’s rites, he could hardly have imagined there
could be any entrance in the smaller orifice. I let him go on, and with
his well hung cock in my bottom, and two or three fingers in my cunt, he
fucked and frigged me most deliciously, until we both spent in an agony
of pleasure. If, Carry, you have not tried this route I strongly
recommend you to do so without delay, but you must be well fucked in the
first instance, to stimulate a desire in those parts, and your lover
must be up to the art of frigging you at the same time, or you can pass
your hand under your belly, and rub your clitoris, which was the plan I
adopted with Charlie, until I taught him the art of rubbing the clitoris
properly. As there is always more excitement when this is done by a
male, it is better to have them when one can, but, _faute de mieux_—one
can do it oneself with much additional lascivious satisfaction.
To give you an instance of the precocious aptitude of this dear little
fellow, I mounted upon him one morning, keeping my body erect, that we
might see the delicious instrument in its action of being engulphed and
then withdrawn, a most exciting pose which I recommend you to try, if
your husband has not already taught it to you. At last, overcome by the
lascivious movements, I sank on his bosom. He pressed my bottom down
with one hand, and with the other embracing the nearer buttock,
introduced his middle finger up the rosy orifice of my bottom, and
frigged me in unison with our ups and downs of fucking, giving me the
most delicious additional sensations.
What do you think of that for a _tyro_? His discretion, too, is
extraordinary. The first night after I sent him to his own bed, he
overslept himself. I had not thought of that, and had not looked into
his little room before descending to breakfast. His sister was sent to
call him. He at once excused himself by saying he had had a bad dream,
she came down and told us. In a few minutes he followed, and in the most
natural way possible, told a tale of fright, declared he had awoke
screaming and afterwards had been so frightened that he could not sleep,
and turning to me in the most natural way, hoped his scream had not
disturbed me. He never came near me, or appeared in any way attracted by
me—a discretion worthy of a man of the world. Oh! my dear Carry, I shall
make a great deal of this boy. We have had several delicious nights
since, and he improves wonderfully. Splendidly as my husband fucks,
Charley already beats him. He is quite as often ready, indeed, oftener,
and it is I that hold him back, but there is something still so
charmingly infantine in his way of caressing me, and then the lascivious
idea he is all my own, and that I initiated him in love’s mysteries,
adds an inexpressible charm to our lascivious encounters. I feel that I
shall almost regret my husband’s return, as it will force me to give up
this delicious indulgence. Not the slightest shadow of suspicion of our
doings is excited in the family, thanks to the very guarded and
admirable conduct of Charlie, which is above all praise.
Write to me soon, my dear Carry, and be sure you are as candid as this
long, long letter is to you, for the life of me I could not make it
shorter. I only hope you will give me one as long, and have as much
delicious intelligence for me. I know you too well to suppose that you
have not found means as I have done, to try what other men are made of,
although you can scarcely have had such wonderful luck as mine. Write
then, and write without reserve. Our mutual affection is too sincere to
allow of any concealment whatever between two such loving and lewd
lascivious friends.
Ever your affectionate friend,
E. BENSON.
Such was the long letter my adored mistress wrote at the time to her
school companion. It will be seen that their attachment had led to
something more than the usual fingerings and caressings of school girls,
indeed, had led them on to the lewdest and most lascivious indulgences
that two girls could practise in common, and had first excited their
passions and given them the delicious power of pleasing coition they
were both so perfect in, for, as I before said, about two years after
this time, I was the possessor of both and many and many an orgy we
three had together, without the shadow of jealousy on any side. It will
be seen that Mrs. Egerton, in her reply, even looks forward to the
delicious indulgence, which in the end was happily effected and long
continued. The following is her reply—
THE HON. MRS. EGERTON TO MRS. BENSON.
How can I ever sufficiently thank my darling Lizzie for her delicious
letter, I have devoured its delightful details a dozen times already. I
keep it in my bosom, and renew the pleasure of its perusal at every
spare moment. _Too long?_ Oh! with such a charming power of description,
why did you not cover fifty more pages. Never in my life have I enjoyed
such an exquisite description of those dear lascivious encounters. How
delighted I am at your good fortune in meeting with such a miracle of a
boy as that dear Charlie Roberts. Why, he has every quality of a man,
united to the charm of extreme youth. What a splendid man he will
become, the very perfection of a lover, and already possessing so lewd
and lascivious a lubricity. Oh! how I envy you his possession. What luck
for him too, to have fallen into the hands of so delicious a teacher as
my beloved Lizzie is. Am I not myself her pupil, and were you not my own
delicious instructress in all that one of our sex could teach each the
other.
You will remember a long-standing engagement entered into, between us
made, when we were both so lewd and so longing for the real knowledge of
man, and how we pledged ourselves that if either got possession of a
lover, we should manage after a while to share him between us. Your
description of Charlie Roberts has brought this pledge most vividly to
my recollection. I am sure my dear Lizzie will not be angry or jealous
when I avow that I long to participate with her in the possession of
that darling boy; and if my Lizzie is as of old, I feel certain she will
rather indulge and cultivate this propensity than otherwise. Think how
easy it will be for us both to arrange the meeting of all three
together, because I wish to possess him in common, certain that it will
increase the lascivious pleasure of coition. No one will suspect us when
we drive out, two women with one man. It will naturally be supposed that
one fears the other, and so there will be no danger. See, here I am at
once anticipating future scenes, but it is all owing to the extremely
exciting and lascivious details you have so vividly given me.
I have no such delicious scenes to depict as those you have so
delightfully described to me. My honeymoon passed off in a much more
common-place way than yours. Our marriage, which was performed within a
day of your own, went off as such events do. My husband was loving,
without being very warm. I felt very much as you describe on going to
bed the first night, but the discretion or delicacy of my husband, which
I could well have pardoned him for dispensing with, left me time not
only to get into bed, but kept me waiting there some time. He entered
like yours in his dressing-gown, but immediately put out the light and
found his way into bed, as best he could. He crept to my side and
embraced me tenderly enough, and began to fondle and kiss me, telling me
how dearly he loved me, etc., but for some time he avoided any indecent
liberties. I suppose he thought it necessary to gain my confidence and
quiet any alarm I might be in. He might have saved himself the trouble,
for in reality I was longing for and at the same time somewhat dreading
an attack on my maiden charms. At last, little by little, he approached
the object of delight, and eventually begging me not to be alarmed, he
mounted upon me and effected the object of his desires. He did not hurt
me much, not nearly as much as I expected, nor so much as you seem to
have suffered. I deemed it politic to affect more suffering than he
really inflicted. Towards the end I had slight scintillations of
pleasure, but not worth mentioning; it is true my husband is not so
well-armed as yours and Charlie appear to be, and he is also much colder
in his passions; for instance, he did not attempt to fuck me again,
although I would have been gratified if he had done so; perhaps it was
considerate towards me in his idea, but, merely embracing me in his
arms, he talked himself and me to sleep.
In the morning he again fucked me, this time giving me something like
pleasure, but I was altogether disappointed with my night’s experience.
It was not such as you or I, my dear Lizzie, had pictured to ourselves,
in our anticipations of the marriage night. My husband since has never
exceeded twice a night, but he has become more exciting, and has
generally made me spend twice to his once, first exciting my passions by
feeling all my private parts, and frigging my clitoris, so that I
generally have lubricated the passage by my own discharge before he
attempts to make an entrance. I find he likes this, and so far it
pleases me, because only one discharge would leave me in a state of
excitement unbearable. He has never attempted any of those lewder and
more lascivious methods, of which you have had such delicious
experience. Altogether, I cannot but say I am disappointed. My husband
is loving, and very anxious that I should improve my mind in every way.
You know I was rather more proficient than usual at school in Italian.
My husband speaks it fluently, and as we mean to spend a winter at Rome,
was anxious that I should have further instruction. He asked me if my
school teacher was a good one, but I did not encourage that idea. You
may remember our former master was a Count Fortunio, so handsome and so
enterprising that you and I had both formed the plan of having him, and
had already put over some of the preliminaries when, unfortunately, he
was caught with that impudent Miss Peace, with whom, doubtless, he had
accomplished everything. Of course, he was instantly changed for
another, and we saw no more of him, to the sad disappointment of our
then libidinous hopes. My husband proposed advertising for a master,
when I had the happy instinct to tell him that schoolmistresses
generally applied to Rolandi, of Berner’s Street, for language masters,
and that, if he would write or call, he would be sure to get every
information. That evening, after dinner, as we sat dozing over the fire
in the library—very imperfectly lighted—my husband informed me that he
had seen Rolandi, who had most strongly recommended a very gentlemanly
man, moving in good society, namely, the Count Fortunio. I started in
amazement; fortunately, owing to the half-light we were in, my surprise
and confusion were unnoticed by my husband. He said that he had been
referred to one or two gentlemen of standing as to the Count’s
character, that he called upon them, and felt satisfied that I could not