Dick took me in his arms at the door, and fairly lifted me up, as he hurried me off to bed; one of his hands all the while rummaging my cunt and bottom.
'You did that famously, Queenie,' he said, as he laid me on the bed; 'I listened to every word, and heard every stir — I could even hear the gurgling sound made by your cunt as his prick pushed in and out, and the creak of the bed every time you heaved up your bottom. Ferrars fucks judiciously; he always spares his powder, and rams home his cartridge with great deliberation. I declare, I felt strongly tempted to steal in and place my hand under your bottom and feel your cunt while he was fucking it. Would you have been very vexed if I had?'
'Not in the least, dear! Lord Ferrars is a perfect gentleman and a kind true-hearted man and he loves fucking — well, as much as you do yourself. No, I would not object at all, now that your prick is poking my cunt, so delightfully, to having his lordship down there below us and feeling his hands playing about my cunt and bottom; I think I should enjoy your fucking all the more… 'Is that you, Dick, tickling my bottom and pinching my cunt? Oh, but there is someone there — go on — it is delicious.'
'Hallo, Ferrars! Is that where you are? Hold on, my boy, you shall have her when I am done.'
'Thanks, Dick; I heard you at my door and followed you here; you are a noble-minded fellow, and have the most lovable wife that ever man was blessed with, and you are worthy of her.'
From that time on, I often got a rare pounding between the two, and was seldom fucked by one without having the prick of the other in my hand, my mouth, or somewhere else.
CHAPTER 2
Knowing the dangers attending satiety, I invited Jim to come to us again, both for her gratification, and as a diversion for Lord Ferrars and my husband. But before her arrival, a strange denouement occurred which I will now proceed to relate.
Lord Ferrars was visited almost every day by a very handsome boy, dressed in naval uniform, whom he called his middy. He had beautiful violet eyes, and a profusion of flaxen curls. He generally came in the morning and remained some hours in Lord Ferrars' room, writing his letters and making up his accounts — as he told me. I took a fancy to the boy and often tried to get him to talk with me, but he seemed very shy, and evidently avoided meeting me as much as he could.
Lord Ferrars always spoke most kindly to him, and in every way treated him with marked consideration.
When I questioned him concerning this youth, he told me he had picked you up at an English seaport, and as he could keep accounts, understood the management of a yacht and had a decided taste for the sea, he retained him in his service as an attendant companion.
This explanation did not quite satisfy me, and my curiosity becoming more aroused, I set myself to probe the matter, and find out the true nature of the connection.
Besides, I was piqued at the youth's indifference to myself; it was a new sensation to me to meet one of the other sex who appeared totally unaffected by my charms; and what increased the mystery was that in spite of my admiration of his good looks, there seemed some subtle influence pervading him that repelled us mutually, just as if we were two similar poles of a magnet; and the cause, I determined to find out.
So one day, getting my husband to take Lord Ferrars out of the way about the time when the middy usually called, I opened the door for him myself, brought him into my boudoir and closed and fastened the door.
He seemed surprised, and sat down with great reluctance on the seat I offered him, looking around as if prepared to bolt at the first opportunity.
In order to set him more at his ease, I sat down beside him, and looking kindly at him, said, 'My young friend, I am so pleased with your constant attention to Lord Ferrars that I wish to know something more about yourself. First tell me how old you are, then your name and how you came to meet his lordship.
'I am seventeen years old, my name is Francis Gripton. My mother kept a lodging house in Southampton, and Lord Ferrars used to stop with her when he remained on shore. He often took me out in his yacht, and finding me useful, he asked me to enter his service.'
'You seem greatly attached to Lord Ferrars.'
His eyes flashed as he quickly replied, 'Why should I not be? He is very good to me, and to my mother also. He is constantly sending her presents.'
'I like you all the better for it; we are all fond of him here.'
A look of scorn passed over his beautiful features as he said, 'Yes, but you are a married lady, and have not any right to be thinking of Lord Ferrars; you ought to be fond only of your own husband.'
I was both surprised and amused at the earnestness of the boy, and I thought, more than ever, that there was something underlying this and I must discover what it was. So I said in my kindest manner, 'Why, Francis, you need not be angry; at all events, if you are so much attached to Lord Ferrars, you ought to be pleased at our being fond of him; and we would like to be fond of you too' — and I put my hand on his shoulder.
He drew back with a frightened air, 'Oh, please, don't trouble your head about me; I am not worth thinking about.'
'But you are, Francis, and I like you very much,' and I tried to draw him towards me.
'Please let me go, Mrs Harpur; you remind me of Potiphar's wife,' and he smiled in a curious way. 'I am not, however, going to fly from you like Joseph, but I really have duties which I must attend to.'
He arose as if to go, but I held his arm with my right hand, and passing my left down his front before he suspected my object, I pressed it between his thighs; as I expected, there was no appearance of what Shakespeare calls his codpiece there; all was smooth, with the exception of a rounded fullness, which told me how luxuriously the want was supplied by a pair of pouting lips.
'Why, Francis, you have been deceiving us all; you are a girl,' and I put my hand on her breast to make sure.
'Oh, Mrs Harpur, what shall I do? if Lord Ferrars knows that you have found me out, he will be terribly vexed. He will hate me, and perhaps leave me behind when he sails away,' and she burst into tears.
'Ah, well, don't cry, dear, I will see that he is not vexed with his little mistress — you are a brave girl — I admire you for your devotion to Lord Ferrars, and if you let me, I will love you as a sister, but you must conceal nothing from me — there must be candour on both sides, and then we shall be the best of friends; and let us begin by being mutually free with each other. Pet my fanny with your pretty little hand,' I said, lifting my dress and spreading my thighs as she pushed her hand up to my region of delight, 'and I will investigate the sweets and capacities of your own little love chink,' proceeding to unbutton her trousers and open them down the front. Inserting my fingers between the moist lips of her fat little slit, I said, 'Of course, you know this is your cunt, and you are familiar, I have no doubt, with all the terms and expressions of love.'
'Yes, I think I know them all pretty well. Lord Ferrars likes me to use them; do you like to hear them too?'
'I do, dear Francis, it not only saves trouble and beating about the bush, but I find, as most everybody does, that the free use of bawdy terms has an extraordinary effect in stirring up amorous emotions and creating sexual desire. So, let us talk freely of pricks, and cunts, and fucking, and bottoms, and arses too. Does Lord Ferrars fuck you often? And how does he like most often to do it?'