Sometimes when teasing girls in bed, kissing their nipples, lips, their nests, I tell them who is to sperm them first, and some-a few-become quite wild at that. I do not have my failures, dears, and hence a wholly rebellious girl is tied up to the wall, her arms stretched up, a bolster pushing out her tummy from behind her bottom, and her knees a little bent. 'Thus held, I darken up the room and tickle their cunnies with a feather first. They beg, they plead, they sob, I kiss their tears. Then finally they sprinkle and hang limp, their cunnies oiled and ready for the cock. The posture is absurd and lewd, and yet I love to watch the shadowy forms. The male comes naked, ready for the fray. Her nipples stiff, her slit prepared, she cries out wildly, twists her torso agitatedly, but all in vain. A shimmering cry, a squeal (for she has recognised him even in the dark), he nests his knob in her and holds, clasping her bottom cheeks and lets the bolster fall. 'Oh! I can almost see it!', murmured Jane and let her head fall on Esmeralda's shoulder. 'We all can, sweet', said Esmeralda, caressing Jane's firm breasts, 'The act is slow; I will not have it otherwise. A groan, a grunt, and he embeds himself, nibbles her nipples, floods her face with kisses while she wildly moves her head this way and that. But Nature tells… ah, Nature tells. At the sixth or seventh stroke of his cock, she starts to yield. Her lips will mew out briefly under his, escape, and then return again, their thighs a-slap, their bellies rubbing up. When she is brought to such a point, I then release her arms. He turns her, limp and sobbing, still embedded in her slit, and falls upon the waiting bed, with her beneath, her feet sprawled wide apart upon the floor. Ah then, the puffing and the panting that ensues, for she is lost to it at last- may even moan the naughty words that I have taught her in the past few days. She is ridden lustfully, is fully creamed-will ne'er say no again, I swear to that…' Her voice trailed off. Her lips met Jane's. They kissed luxuriously. My thighs were plundered underneath my dress. The long and amourous day began anew…
Envoi 'Esmeralda was right, you know. It is best to be obedient-or almost so', said Jane with female cunning as we journeyed home the following day, 'I'm glad we met her-are you not?
Shall you follow their advice? Oh, do! Then we can really stay together, can we not, and you will both be married and yet not. Say yes!' 'Papa will have to say so first, though, Jane'. 'I know-but really all the fault is his, and if he keeps a carriage there, at your own house, I mean… I thought that quite an inspiration, absolutely, Emily. Arnold is too timid to say nay. The constant sight of it will keep him tame and, oh, we can have fun, I know we can'. I knew it, too: sun breaking through the clouds. I had taken the actual marriage contract lightly-had not thought too much of it and had not scanned the document at all. I thought of frosty lawyers, rolltop desks and solemn words, and wanted not too much of that. But better to be married and to sin than live suspended inbetween a marriage and divorce. 'Arnold must have a separate bedroom, then', said I. Jane clapped her hands and hugged me as the carriage rolled and sent up spumes of dust along the lane. 'A whole corridor at least from yours, and we will even lock him in each night!' 'Oho, you wicked thing!', I laughed. More bubbles burst and freedom waved its flags. Arnold could be inveigled to become an officer, be sent to India or some such, I declared. Momentum grew again around our thoughts. Mad as they were, I knew they could succeed. Surrounded by myself and Jane and Julie, Arnold would be kept suppressed-told what to do. A role that he enjoyed in any case, I told myself. Bubbling thus with hope and new-made plans, we made our re-arrival. Ah, dear blessed home whose walls were so familiar and whose many family portraits on the walls looked so benignly down on us! Mama and Papa were out visiting, we learned. Of this I was glad, for I wished an hour or two to settle first before I broached the news to Papa of my hopes. James bustled like a bird whose lost nest has been found again, and was much put out that Jane and I spent so long with Eveline in her room, answering or fending off her endless questions. Brighter were her eyes-more sultry were her sweet young lips, and I did not doubt that she herself had been well-creamed by now. Indeed, Jane showed as much curiosity about her as she to us, and I left them whispering to encounter James in waiting by my door.
'I am going to change my dress, James, then I will talk with you', said I. My shoes were dusty and I needed much to bathe. I felt skittish in his presence suddenly and made to go past him, but he seized my arm. 'Emily, how I have longed for you', he uttered with that wild look that young men so often have, and which wise young women try to mollify. 'I am so tired from journeying, James. Not now', I begged. 'You must not say such silly things, besides', I added foolishly. I had halted for a moment in the doorway to my room and made to press myself within, but he followed me and pressed me to the wall, hand seeking round my thrusting breasts. -'No, James!', I begged, then came a skittering down the stairs from the servants' quarters up above and Mary, basket-laden, halted for a second, stared within at us, half-curtsied, blushed, and knew not where to look.
'It's nice to see you back, Miss'. 'Mary-yes'. James would not take his hand away. One knee was thrust between my legs. He grinned a stupid grin at her. I thrust him off and gave him quite a bitter look. He had the grace to blush in turn and knew not where to put himself. I moved away and carefully undid my dress, but held it close together at the top, waiting for him to leave. 'I'll dust your room out, Miss, when you have changed'. 'Yes, Mary, do.
James-help her with that basket, if you call yourself a gendeman. The poor girl has too much to do'. 'All right', he said and slouched away to take the linen basket from her hands while Mary and I exchanged such small quick looks of warm complicity as only women can.
James in any case was not defeated- only quashed. I gave him a hesitation of a smile, a nod, as I closed my door. James was impetuous-no more than that. A woman learns to fend away obsessiveness, for love that is obsessive spoils itself, and she who allows herself to be smothered by a single male loses her freshness, her alertness, her elan-loses the challenge of the meeting of new eyes, new lips, new minds. The cock knows no conscience, it is said-but neither does the quim when the veins throb. Esmeralda had not said that we would meet again, and yet I had imbibed the simple wisdom of her words despite my seeming mulishness at times, and which she well understood as a defense to my desires. Perhaps I was different now, I told myself, and peeled my clothes off-looked down at my bed and saw the ghosts, the recent ghosts, of love, saw myself lying with my legs apart, my mind afloat the while my body warmed to tickling fingers, lips that pressed upon my own and underneath my slit. Perhaps it was more furry now? Such foolish, errant thoughts invaded me. Were my breasts larger-was my bottom plump? A knock sounded and I snatched my dress up. It was only Jane. 'Jane, is my bottom fat?', I asked. I dropped my gown and stood all droopy in her sight. 'You know it's not; you seek for flattery, my pet. Its rondeurs are exquisite. Are you in a broody mood again? James has been naughty with Eveline, you know'. 'I guessed he would be-and with Mary, too, I think. He had his arm around her on the stairs', I fibbed, and then as if to cover up my sins asked her to help me dress.