Eroticon 2 Page 2

  Exhausted and shattered by the assaults I had launched and withstood for more than two hours, I felt an overwhelming desire for sleep and I yielded to it. Madame Dinville herself rested my head on her abundant bosom, wanting also to enjoy some rest, but with me in her arms.

  'Sleep, my love,' she murmured as she wiped the perspiration from my forehead. 'Have a good sleep, for I know how much you need it.'

  I dozed off immediately, only to awaken when the sun was sinking on the horizon. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Madame Dinville. She looked at me cheerfully, interrupting the knitting she had occupied herself with during my slumber to dart her tongue in my mouth.

  She made no attempt to conceal her desire for a resumption of the sport, but I had little interest. My indifference irritated her. It was not that I was disinclined, but if it had been left up to me, I would have preferred repose to action. But Madame was not going to have it that way. Holding me in her arms, she overwhelmed me with proofs of her passion, but they did not arouse me, even though I tried my best to stroke the dead fires within me.

  Disappointed at her lack of success, she employed another ruse to relight my extinguished flames. Lying on her back, she raised her skirt to her navel, revealing the object of the desires of most men. She well knew the effect such an exposure would produce. When she suggestively jiggled her buttocks, I felt something stirring in me and I placed my hand on the gift she was offering me. But it was only a token gesture of passion. As I was negligently titillating her clitoris, she was feverishly massaging my prick in a hysterical cadence dictated by her feverish eagerness. When my prick finally stood up, I saw her eyes sparkle in triumph at her success in reviving my ardour. Now aroused by her caresses, I promptly bestowed on her the tokens of my gratitude which she zealously accepted. Grasping me around the waist, she bumped up and down under me so violently that I ejaculated almost automatically, but with such raptures that I was angry with myself for having ended the joy so promptly.

  Now it was time to leave the arbor which had been the scene of such transports. But before returning to the chateau, we took several turns in the labyrinth to allow the traces of our exertions to disappear. As we were strolling, we naturally chatted:

  'How happy I am with you, dear Saturnin,' she remarked. 'Did I live up to your expectations?'

  'I am still relishing the delights you were good enough to grant me,' I gallantly replied.

  'Thank you,' she said. 'But it was not very wise of me to have surrendered to you the way I did. You will be discreet, won't you, Saturnin?'

  I retorted that if she thought I was capable of betraying to others what joys we had, she must not have a very high opinion of me. She was so pleased with my astute response that she rewarded me with a long, lingering kiss. I am sure that I would have been rewarded much more richly had we not been in a spot where we could be seen. As an additional gratitude, she pressed my hand on her left breast with a meaningful expression.

  Now we quickened our pace as the conversation languished. I noticed that Madame Dinville was anxiously looking from side to side and wondered why.

  But who would have thought that after such an exhausting afternoon, she still wanted more? She wanted to crown the day with one last engagement, and she was on the lookout for some stray servant. The reader will probably think that she had the devil in the flesh, and he would not be far off the mark.

  She tried to revive me with her tongue and mouth, but the poor thing was lifeless. Sad but true. To attain her goal, what did she do? That is what we are going to find out.

  As a youngster just getting to know the ways of the world, I flattered myself that I had made an auspicious debut and that I would be lacking in respect if I did not see her to her rooms. That done, I felt I could take my leave by giving her a final kiss for the day.

  'What's that?' she demanded in a surprised tone. 'You're not leaving, are you? It's only eight o'clock. You stay here. I'll arrange things with your Cure.'

  The thought of avoiding Mass appealed to me and I was agreeable to her interceding for me. Making me sit on the bed, she went to lock the door and returned to take her place at my side. She looked at me intently without uttering a word. Her silence disconcerted me.

  'Don't you want to any more?' she finally said.

  Because I knew I was finished, I was so embarrassed that I could not force out a word. To admit my impotence was unthinkable. I lowered my eyes to conceal my shame.

  'We're all alone, dear Saturnin,' she said in a coaxing voice, bathing my face with hot kisses which just left me cold.

  'Not a soul in the world can spy on us,' she continued. 'Let's take off our clothes and get into my bed. Come, my friend, down to the buff. I'll soon make the stubborn little prick stand up.'

  Taking me in her arms, she actually carried me and deposited me on the couch where she disrobed me in a feverish impatience. She soon got me in the desired condition, that is to say, naked as the day I was born. More out of politeness than pleasure; I let her have her way with me.

  Turning me on my back, she started sucking my poor prick. She had it in her mouth up to my testicles.

  I could see that she was in ecstasies as she covered the member with a saliva that resembled froth. She did restore some life to it, but so little that she could make no use of it. Recognizing that that treatment was of no avail, she went to her dressing-table and got a little flask containing a whitish fluid. This she poured on her palm and vigorously rubbed it on my balls and prick.

  'There,' she said with satisfaction when she finished. 'You aren't through yet by any means.'

  Impatiently I waited for the fulfilment of her prediction. Little tingles in my testicles raised tiny hopes for success. While waiting for the treatment to take effect, she undressed in turn. By the time she was naked, I felt as if my blood was boiling. My penis shot up as if released by a powerful spring. Like a maniac, I grabbed her and forced her on the bed with me. I devoured her, scarcely permitting her to breathe. I was blind and deaf. Sounds like those of an enraged beast came out of my mouth. There was only one thought in my mind, and that was her cunt.

  'Stop, my love!' she cried, tearing herself from me. 'Not in such a hurry. Let's prolong our pleasures and elaborate on them. Put your head at my feet, and I'll do the same. Now your tongue in my cunt. That's it. Oh, I'm in heaven.'

  My body, stretched out on her, was swimming in a sea of delight, I darted my tongue as deep as I could into the moist grotto. If possible, I would have sunk my entire head into it. Furious sucking on her taut clitoris produced a flow of nectar a thousand times more delectable than that served by Hebe to the gods on Mount Olympus. Some readers may ask what the goddesses drank. They drank from Ganymede's prick, of course.

  Madame Dinville was clutching my backside with both her arms while I squeezed her pneumatic buttocks. Her tongue and lips wandered feverishly over my prick while mine did the same to her nether parts. She announced to me the increasing intensity of the raptures I was causing her by convulsive spasms and erratically spreading and closing her thighs. Moderating and augmenting our efforts, we gradually progressed to the peak. We stiffened as if collecting all our faculties to savour the coming bliss to the full.

  We discharged simultaneously. From her cunt gushed a torrent of hot delicious fluid which I greedily gulped down. Her mouth was so filled with mine that it took several swallows to get it all down, and she did not release my prick until she was sure that there was not a drop left. The ecstasy vanished, leaving me in despair at the thought it could not be recaptured. But such is carnal pleasure.

  Back in the pitiable state from which Madame Dinville's potion had rescued me, I beseeched her to restore me again.

  'No, my dear Saturnin,' she replied. 'I love you too much to want to kill you. Be content with the joy we just had.'

  Not overly eager to meet my Maker at the expense of another round of pleasure, I followed her example and put on my clothes.

  Feeling that Madame Dinville
was not displeased with the way I had comported myself, I asked her if I would be permitted to play our games again with her.

  'When do you want to come back?' she answered, kissing me on the cheek.

  'As soon as I can and that won't be soon enough,' I declared spiritedly. 'How about tomorrow?'

  'No,' she smilingly refused me. 'I have to let you get some rest. Come and see me in three days' time.' (She handed me some pastilles that she said would produce the same effect on me as the balm.) 'Be careful how you take them. Also, I don't have to tell you that you are not to say a word about what we did.'

  I swore eternal secrecy, and we embraced one last time. So I departed, leaving her under the impression that I had presented her with my virginity.

  Fanny Hill's Daughter

  Dear Madame:

  As you would doubtlessly be the first to inform me, drawing on your own rich experience, there is no certainty in our profession from one hour to the next, let alone for any longer time.

  'Twas on the sunniest of afternoons that the dread blow fell. Miss Kitty and I returned from visiting the stores, with our arms full of bundles and anticipating a most lively and pleasant evening, to find my gallant protector's orderly awaiting my arrival in the little room downstairs off the front door. His name was Hogg, and he was sufficient gross to rate it e'en had his parents not wished it on him at birth.

  Usually a merry enough dog and inordinately I devoted to my master, on this occasion his expression was melancholy enough to wring tears from a statue and aroused in my breast the most exquisite alarm, a sensation soon fully justified by the missive he solemnly handed me.

  It was sealed and addressed in my protector's hand, and I feared to open it lest it contain I knew what not awful tidings. Yet mustering my courage under the regard of the devoted Hogg and Miss Kitty, I ripped loose the seal and read—

  Most honourable mistress,

  It is with the most galling sensations of remorse and regret that I take pen in hand. For ye have brought me nought but pleasure and have merited far more from me than the troubles, self-inflicted by mine own outrageous weakness, in which I must now ask you to share...

  I shall spare you the rest of that awful missive, Madam. Suffice it to say that, in part-payment of a gambling debt contracted at Whyte's my protector had sold me to a Mr Ian MacTavish of Edinburgh.

  Nor was I to see my beloved young protector again, for, unable either to face the tragic scenes of parting with my person which must have ensued had he returned to the lodgings we so happily shared till that unhappy day, and being likewise unable to face the thought of forfeiting his honour by refusing to make good the wager he had so rashly entered into and so unhappily lost, he stayed away from my presence, remaining in barracks until I was safely (from his point of vantage) ensconced on the Edinburgh stage two mornings later.

  In truth, had it not been for the kind consolations of Miss Kitty, well laced with the sound sensibility that is so much a part of her, I might well have destroyed myself in my grief and terror. For to be thus disposed of, via the turn of a card or the cast of a dye, like a dog or a Blackamoor slave, by a young man to whom I had cheerfully granted my greatest treasures without thought of return...

  Chere Madame, words fail me!

  As it was, had not Miss Kitty reminded me of the cruelty and unfathomable mystery of Man, I must indeed have succumbed. Nor did she content herself with mere verbal solace, but saw to it that my trunks were well filled with furs and furbelows, and that I was further equipped to meet Fortune's whims with two hundred golden guineas and a hamper well stocked with flesh, fowl, chocolate, two bottles of tawny port and other provenances against the rigours of travel - albeit so deep was my distress at the sudden downturn in my fortunes that I was scarce aware of the extent of her assistance.

  To Miss Kitty's great kindness, for which I fear I was then insufficiently grateful in my wretched bewilderment, I must, in all good faith and gratitude, add your own sage instruction, Madam, on the frailty of Man and on the readiness of women to expect the worst from these most fickle of all created creatures.

  E'en now, I must confess I find it hard to accept the fact that a protector as openly loving and affectionate as Lieutenant the Honourable Roderick Weymiss of His Majesty's Coldstream Guards should venture my person on a play at Whyte's. Is it for such fecklessness and ingratitude that we conceive the creatures in our bellies and give them birth and tender rearing...?

  But enough of such disgressives, and on with the account of my fortunes.

  Of the Honourable Ian MacTavish, my purchaser, I had but little time to record my impressions, for my life with him was of the briefest and least consequential - albeit fraught with the most veritable perils and excitements whilst it endured.

  He picked me up in a rented hack two mornings following my receipt of the fateful message from Mr Weymiss, delivered by the porcine Hogg, to convey me to the Edinburgh stage, on which we were to ride in company to the land of Scotland, a land I had never before laid eyes on, and of which I had heard a great many things to make me distrustful, nay even afeard.

  The Honourable Mr MacTavish was as tall as a flagpole and as lean as an Irish peasant in a famine year - yet withal not of unprepossessing appearance, save for a great red beak that thrust through and above his muffler like the prow of a Bristol merchantman.

  His pale blue eyes looked rheumily down on me, as I stood in Miss Kitty's doorway, surrounded by my trunks, and said to her as she stood beside me, 'Is this the baggage I have engaged?'

  In my confusion, I believed he spake not of mine own self but of the trunks, cases and hamper with which mine hostess had so generously provided me. Thus we were off on the wrong foot right away, as I had hardly been accustomed to being thus referred to in front of my face.

  But the Honourable Mr MacTavish was no man to stand on argument, and I was whisked away in his rented hack before we had time to exchange so much as a single pleasantry.

  All he told me during our half-hour journey to the Royal Scotsman, the tavern whence the Edinburgh stage departed, was, 'If ye'r as plump in bed as Weymiss claims, ye'll hae na troubles with me.'

  Which, I must say in all humility, hardly constitutes a wooing, even for a gentleman of Scotland dealing with a young lady of pleasure like myself. Pray tell me if you find it otherwise, Madam, and I shall be more than ever in your debt.

  However, if remiss in the courtesies of courtship, my purchaser soon proved himself more than eager in the performance of the role himself, and lived up fully to the reputation of his compatriots from north of the Tyne for ensuring the receipt of that which he had purchased to the final farthing.

  For the departure of the coach being delayed due to the tardiness of a passenger of importance, the Honourable Mr MacTavish wasted no time in hustling me into a small room off the ordinary where, by tipping a potboy tuppence, he thought to have privacy in order to, as he bluntly put it, 'try the worth of the goods.'

  He made me lie down on a narrow, horsehair couch insufficiently cleansed of the vomit of one or more of the previous eve's revellers, as the noxious fumes that assailed my nostrils made unpleasantly clear, pulled up my petticoats and made ready to enter me without so much as a by-your-leave, unbuttoning his breeches to display a virile member that resembled more the central trunk of a stout bramble bush, so greatly was it knobbed and gnarled, than any organ of Man.

  Nor was my already distraught spirit put further at ease when, grasping this ugly but all-too-practical tool in the very nick of time and squeezing its lumpy surface tightly in my fist, it gave evidence of a yellowish discharge that told me all too clearly its owner was suffering from the lesser of those two plagues of Venus that so sorely beleaguer both sexes in the exercise of their natural pleasures, and that in its most active and virulent form.

  Having small wish to visit upon mine own self such an unpleasant ailment, I pleaded with him to leave me alone, at least until his trouble had abated, but his blood was up and he was in no mood
to brook any delay in seeking immediate satisfaction of his most manly appetite.

  Only at the last instant did I recollect the trick of which you must be well aware, and in which Madame Berkeley schooled me, the trick of knocking the large vein in the side of the prick with a fingernail, thus causing the sturdiest of male emblems to resume its sorriest condition (not that the condition of my new protector's was not sorry enough to begin with).

  In any event, he subsided, albeit with wrath, and made for to strike me with his stick, uttering great outcries about insubordination and ingratitude to which I paid small heed. I stood up to him, however, and informed him in no uncertain terms that I would announce to the world his condition and what he intended doing to me whilst in it - at which he resigned himself to muttering fury and, at last, rebuttoned his breeches to my great relief.

  Had I but a moment further in which to ponder my plight, I doubt not that I should have left him then and there, and let my recent protector get out of his debt of honour to the MacTavish as best he could.

  But all my possessions, save the golden sovereigns in my purse (which was concealed in my muff) and the clothes I wore on my back, were already aboard the Edinburgh stage, and I had small desire to render myself once more destitute in so short an interval of time. On top of this, the Eminent Gentleman for whom the stage was held arrived, and demanded we be off at once, as he was in a great hurry to tend to his affairs in the north. So I was bundled aboard with little chance to speak, or even determine, mine own mind.

  Ne'er in all my born days did ever I see a gentleman of such surpassing ugliness as this Eminent Gentleman, who took a seat directly opposite me, resting his chin on his elegant knuckles and his elegant knuckles on the carved ivory top of his elegant ebony cane, splaying wide his knees with utter disregard of the comfort of those passengers who sat on either side of him.

  Save for the ruffles at his wrists and throat, he was attired wholly in black broadcloth, his gentility attested to by his total lack of jewelled adornment (for certes none but a very great gentleman has courage thus to appear in public without evidence of his property in jewellery or insignia of some sort). Only his buckles were of fine, polished silver that winked reflection of each passing sunbeam that entered the stagecoach windows as we jogged along, drearily enough, over the rough surface of the St. Alban's road.