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  • VOLUPTUOUS CONFESSIONS OF A FRENCH LADY OF FASHION
  • PART 11
  • KITTYS DREAM
  • THE BREECHES, OR ST. THOMAS-A-BECKET'S RELIC
  • THE THREE CHUMS: A TALE OF LONDON EVERYDAY LIFE
  • AN OLD STORY, IN A NEW WAY
  • CHOICE LETTER FROM THE GREEK OF ARISTENETUS
  • ADVENTURES AND AMOURS OF A BARMAID A SERIES OF FACTS
  • CURIOUS MILITARY LOVE-EPISTLE

    Anonymous

    The Boudoir No. 5


    VOLUPTUOUS CONFESSIONS OF A FRENCH LADY OF FASHION

    [Translated from the French.']


    PART 11

    (Continued from page 153)

    I could not answer, but I could not help opening my thighs, and lifting my nightgown in secret, he got over me, and I held him fast in my embrace, waiting and impatiently desiring the supreme moment.

    I soon felt the head of his instrument. A shivering fit seized me, during which I took care to introduce it as far in as possible. I still felt a tolerably severe pain, but that did not stop me; the happy fire that circulated through my veins made me support all. Already I felt the advance symptoms of enjoyment. I tried all I could not to speak; I wanted to cry out, and tell all I felt. I now perfectly understood my aunt's words, but the silence of Charles, who seemed wrapped up in himself, prevented me giving vent to my feelings.

    He continued his movements, and kissed me, but he did not seem beside himself, as I should have wished. I could not resist the impulse to push up my bottom, and cry out! Then I remained perfectly still… I was spending… so that I almost lost my senses.

    Charles stopped for a second, and seemed astonished at my transports. I curbed myself, and he still pursued his career… what more can I say?

    He was a long while performing his sweet duty, and I poured out the sweet dew four times! At last I felt him shudder and sigh, and a fiery, flaming jet inundated my entrails.

    We both remained quiet. I, exalted, in a fever, but ready to begin again; he, broken down, and only requiring rest. So we fell asleep.

    Next morning, on awakening, I found myself once more alone. I was not sorry, and my brain recapitulated the scene of the night, till I felt a curiosity that impelled me to examine my body. I sat up on the pillows, my legs well apart, and with my hands opened the lips of my crack. I found a great change; the interior was much more rosy, the opening was made, and my entire finger easily plunged within. This examination amused me, and would have produced certain consequences, but a discreet rap at my door made me cover myself up hastily, and take a natural position in the bed.

    'Twas Bertha, who found me fresh and gay, and who smiled as she kissed me. We gossiped like sisters as I dressed.

    I was a real woman now, and my pretty aunt treated me as one. She drew certain secrets from me that seemed to interest her greatly and questioning me, I told her what took place.

    She seemed much surprised when I said that I had felt great pleasure four times, while Charles had only done it to me once. Evidently the slight amount of my husband's virile strength, compared to the vigour of hers, surprised her greatly.

    The day passed away, and, as my husband was a great sportsman, he went out shooting. I took a walk with Bertha.

    We all met at dinner, and passed the evening with a little music.

    Night arrived, but how different from the two preceding ones; Charles popped an ugly silk handkerchief on his head, chatted about our early departure, about our new house, amp;c. but never a word about love, not even a caress; he embraced me coldly, and slept.

    I awoke on the morrow before he did, and a terrible longing seized me to look at the instrument that I had only felt twice, and which did not much resemble Monsieur B.'s in size or strength. I was favoured by circumstances. It was warm, and Charles had thrown off the sheet, that only just hid the particular part. Luckily, his shirt had been pulled up;

    I had only to draw down the sheet a little, with infinite prudence, and I caught sight of the sad tool which was to be my only consolation.

    What a difference, indeed, to that of Monsieur B.! Small, wrinkled, and in a shrivelled skin, one could hardly guess at the presence of its limp head, that reposed on his thigh.

    Henceforward, I believe, my destiny was fixed.

    Charles stirred, I made haste to turn round and pretended to sleep, and he left the bed first, as was his habit.

    The limit fixed for our sojourn at granny's house drew near.

    I was far from being unhappy, as my husband was good to me and loved me as heartily as his cold nature allowed him. He was proud of my beauty and refused me nothing, but all this did not suffice. It was not what I had so much desired — namely, a voluptuous, lascivious, ardent love, for which I would have sacrificed everything, for which I was capable of real devotion! I could see laid out before me, a gentle monotonous life, probably without the birth of a child, but too difficult to support for a temperament like mine.

    Charles did it to me once or twice a week, and always in the same despairing reserved style. He only kissed my cheeks or my forehead, my young firm breasts received no caresses, his hand seemed to flee that charming place that would have so gladly welcomed its touch. I too felt that I dare not try to feel him, as instinctively I knew he would have repulsed me.

    We had already been married two years, I was twenty!

    My temperatment now in full blast had increased in passion, instead of growing calmer! My husband did it less and less, and as I feared I had no child, and a baby would have changed my one fixed idea.

    My grandmother had been dead a year. We dwelt in the town of Z — , where my husband occupied an exalted position that obliged him to be frequently absent, and these little journeys suited his taste for hunting and shooting.

    Therefore I was often alone, and in spite of music, that I continued to love and successfully cultivate, my brain was always at work, my excited senses continually pictured scenes of delirious love. What fearful nights I used to pass alone, writhing between the sheets in lascivious positions that I instinctively invented!

    My finger was powerless to satisfy me now. I would take my bolster, and embrace it with twisted legs and twining arms, as if it could realize my desires. I would rub against it and reach a degree of comparative spending enjoyment that drove me still madder. I would change my position, and get astride on it, rubbing myself, till the sluices of pleasure, swollen to the uttermost by this stimulant, burst open, and procured me some relief.

    These nervous fits brought on hallucinations, that manifested themselves by an inconceivable state of hysteria. My calm and gay temper became unequal and capricious. I resisted as well as I could, but at last I avowed myself vanquished, and fell! Was I very, very guilty?

    I was very friendly with Madame D., wife of the principal magistrate of the town, a slight blonde, who may have been pretty once, but who was already beginning to fade, and I think that she had had many intrigues when young.

    One day, when visiting her, she informed me that Monsieur F. had come to take command of the garrison. He was a young officer, who had been much talked about. He had fought with rare courage on the battlefield, and had rapidly earned the epaulettes of lieutenant-colonel. He was about thirty-six and unmarried.

    Madame D. told us that she had invited him to dinner and my husband and myself were to meet him. Was it a presentiment? I know not, but I returned home quite pensive, and slightly jealous of Madame D.

    I must confess, I got ready what I thought was a most ravishing dress, and three days afterwards the dinner came off. We entered the drawing room, Monsieur F. was already there. In a moment, I had examined him. He was tall, vigorous, and well-built, his countenance frank and open, and his manner well-bred. He was introduced and his sweet persuasive voice charmed me. My heart grew cold, and then all the blood in my veins rushed to my face. Oh! I was a captive caught in the toils at last, and 1 did not even seek to combat the influence that invaded my soul.

    The dinner was served and it turned out a very gay one;

    Monsieur F. was able to show his brilliant and cultivated wit. He sat at Madame D.'s right hand… I could have killed her!

    After dinner, he approached me, asked to be allowed to pay me a visit, and talked to my husband, whom he pleased vastly. Madame D. sat down at the piano and played a lively waltz; Monsieur D. said that I was a good partner and asked me to take a turn with him, but he was old and soon fatigued, so Monsieur F. offered to take his place.

    As I felt his arm encircle my waist I was taken with a nervous tremor that evidently did not escape him.

    I gave myself up to the charm of the hour. Monsieur F. boldly profited by the embrace in which he held me, in spite of the spectators. As he turned a corner of the drawing room, he was able to press me so tightly to him that I felt for a second against my belly a certain object so hard and stiff, that I was nearly fainted.

    That waltz was the signal of my defeat!

    The happy evening was too soon over. Once more at home.

    I undressed quickly, and pretending fatigue said good night to my husband, jumped into bed, not to sleep, but to dream.

    I was placed on my left side, my bottom turned to Charles; a caprice seized him; I felt him softly lift my linen, and then, pressing against me, he tried to get into me from behind. I was vexed at first, but, my temperament overpowering me, I gave way to his designs, but he could not manage it, and he did not get in.

    I lost all patience, and rapidly threw off the sheet by a sudden movement, I passed my hand behind me, seized the dart, which was useless without a guide, and stuffed it into my body to the last inch. I was thinking of Monsieur F. the whole time. I imagined that he was behind me, and that he was doing it to me. Under my breath I addressed to him all that I was burning to say at such a moment.

    Three times the dew of love gushed out for him, for him alone! My husband, profiting, unwittingly by the result of my thoughts, did his duty a little better than usual, and refreshed me with a copious ejaculation.

    When he had retired, I feared that, with his habitual ridiculous reserve, he would have made a fuss about the spontane175 ous movement that made me seize and imprison his instrument myself, but he seemed, on the contrary, grateful to me.

    I made a note thereof for the future.

    The next day, Monsieur F. came to pay us a visit, but we were out and I was really grieved when I found his card. He returned on the third day, and his persistence pleased me greatly; my husband was at home, we received him as cordially as possible and pressed him to come often.

    I fancied that he treated me with particular warmth of feeling, and I was happy at the thought!

    A gentle intimacy quickly sprang up between us, my love grew greater each day, and I already saw that my adored F. reciprocated the feeling. Although he had said nothing as yet, I was sure of it — what woman ever makes a mistake?

    We had, as yet, never been alone together; I ardently desired and yet feared that moment. I did not wish to abandon myself entirely at the first interview, and I felt that it would be impossible for me to resist one single instance! I resolved to know more of him, to try him… but all my strength of will melted away directly I saw him. In such a state of mind, how could I resist his attack?

    That was quickly proved! One day, he came at three o'clock; my husband was away, but I had a visitor, a wearisome female, who had no idea of getting up and going. I I could see my dear F. waiting and suffering, but at last, not being decently able to remain any longer, he took his leave, giving me a supplicating look that I was powerless to resist.

    I said to him: "Has not my husband promised you such and such a book?"

    "Yes, madam, and I had hoped to be able to take it with me to-day/' "I will give it you — Pardon me, madam," said I to my eternal bore, "and permit me to leave you for an instant."

    We were in a small reception room that served as my boudoir. P., who understood me, went out and waited for me in the big drawing room, whither I rejoined him, with an odd volume in my hand.

    In an instant, he declared his passion. What he said — what I answered, I know not. I remember nothing.

    I led him towards the hall, for fear we should be overheard.

    There was a double door between the drawing room and a little vestibule, where I could hear a servant. As we reached there, Monsieur F., beside himself, seized me in his arms, and a lingering kiss, a kiss of fire, a kiss that responded to my soul, arrested a shriek that I should not have been able to stifle.

    At the same time, his prompt hand had lifted my petticoats, and was scientifically caressing my burning slit, that quick as lightning poured out upon his fingers palpable traces of the spendings that filled it to overflowing.

    "Begone,… begone!.. away," I said, with stifled accents.

    "Go… To-morrow… three o'clock"; and I fled in a state which I cannot describe.

    Happily, the lady who was waiting was not very clever, and did not notice my disordered state.

    I shall not undertake to narrate my feelings till the next day.

    All that I can remember is, that I firmly resolved to satisfy my erotic longings.

    My husband intended to absent himself for two or three days, and I arranged so as to send my servants on different errands. I dressed myself carefully and waited.

    My dear F. arrived. I opened the door to him myself, and led him to my boudoir.

    We sat down, much embarrassed. He was very respectful and asked my pardon for what he had done the day before, saying that he was unable to master the delirious rage that had seized him, and that his love for me was such that he would die if he was unable to enjoy me.

    I knew not how to answer. Both our hearts were too full.

    He took my hand and kissed it. Shuddering, I rose. Our mouths met. I confess I made no more attempts at resistance.

    I had not the strength to do so.

    I fully enjoyed this intense happiness. I felt that he was carrying me along — but to where? What were we to do? In my boudoir there were only a very narrow low sofa, some armchairs, and ordinary seats without arms.

    F., still holding me in his arms, sat on a chair, so that I found myself in front of him, leaning over his head and face.

    I felt one of his arms loose my waist; soon my clothes were all up in front, and F. tried to pass his knees between my legs.

    "Oh, no," said I, between two sobs. "No,… I pray you, have pity."

    F. made efforts to pull me down, so as to straddle across him; but on instinctive feeling, although I longed for it, I still resisted, and stiffened myself against him. We soon became exhausted. At last, having dropped my eyes a little, I saw something that put an end to the struggle.

    F. had taken out his instrument for the fray. Its ruby, haughty head stood up proudly. In length and thickness really uncommon, it vied even with that of Monsieur B. I had no strength to resist such a sight; my thighs opened by themselves. I slid down hiding my face on my lover's shoulder, and I gave myself up to him, opening myself as much as possible, desiring, and yet fearing the entrance of such a handsome guest.

    I soon felt the head between the lips of my grotto, that the thin tool of my husband had not accustomed to such a bountiful measure. I made a movement to help him, and had hardly introduced the point, when I felt myself flooded by a flaming jet of loving liquor that covered my thighs and belly.

    The prolonged wait, and his own passion, had made the precious dew pump up too quickly, and I had not been able to enjoy it as I should.

    I could not help showing a little disappointment, but my lover, covering me with kisses, told me that I need wait but during a brief period of repose, and that I should soon be more satisfied with him.

    We sat on the sofa, entwined in each other's arms, telling one another of our love and happiness; we had fallen in love at first sight, and both had given way to irresistible passion.

    In a few moments I saw that my lover was ready to begin again, and I asked myself how we were going to do it. I did not wish to try again that posture that had turned out so badly for me, and I could see F. also looking about him.

    An idea struck me. I rose, smiling, and toying with him; he rose too, I retreated, and he eagerly pursued me, till at last I went and leant with nonchalance upon the mantelpiece, presenting my crupper, that I wriggled like a cat, and at the same time I turned my head and threw him a provoking glance.

    Ah! how he understood me. F. rushed upon me, and kissed me, saying "thank you."

    Then he got behind me, and threw my petticoats over my back. When he saw the beautiful shape of my bottom, he gave a loud cry of admiration. I expected as much, but did not dream of the homage he paid to it.

    F. threw himself onto his knees, and after having covered my backside with kisses he drew them apart, just at the top of the thighs, and I could feel his lips, nay even his tongue. I shrieked out, and was overcome.

    F. rose up, and began to put it in; his enormous instrument could not easily penetrate, in spite of our mutual efforts, so he drew it out, put a little saliva on the head and shaft, and I soon felt myself stabbed to the very vitals, filled and plugged tightly up, and in a state of unspeakable ecstasy.

    My lover, leaning over me, glued his lips to mine, that I offered to him by turning my head; his tongue dallied with mine. I was beside myself. I felt myself going mad. The supreme moment arrived. I writhed about, uttering inarticulate words.

    F., who was reserving himself, was delighted at my joy; he let me calm down, and then I felt his sweet movement again.

    Ah, how he knew how to distill pleasure, and double it by a thousand delicate, subtle shades. Oh! that first lesson; I can feel it, as I write, between my thighs.

    "Dear angel," he said, "tell me what you feel; it's so nice to enjoy each other's soft confidence, when we form but one body, as at this moment."

    Oh, how his speech made me happy; I, who had always wished to hear and say those words that had amost driven me wild, when my aunt was at work! I did not hesitate an instant longer.

    "I must do it again," said I, "it's coming- push in — again — right in — finish me — ah! I die!"

    "My adored one, I'm coming too — it's bubbling up — Ah I spend!"

    F. gave a push, and fell upon me. I felt his ejaculation, and nearly fainted under the jet.

    How was it that I did not die during that embrace? Nothing that I had imagined at the sight of my aunt's sweet struggles could approach this reality! I remained overwhelmed, my head in my arms, my bosom heaving, incapable of movement.

    F. drew out. I still spent. I kept on spending. I stopped as I was, without sense of shame, naked to the waist, trembling, mechanically continuing the movement of my bottom, and causing the overflow of liquid to fall to the ground.

    F. took pity on me. After rapidly adjusting himself, he pulled down my petticoats, and taking me in his arms sat by my side on the sofa. I was delirious for a second. He calmed me; his sweet voice brought me to a little. I begged him to leave me to myself, and he went away.

    I had at last regained full consciousness. I was in an extraordinary state of disorder, and was obliged to change my linen. My chemise and stockings were not only stained by loving liquid but spotted by numerous spots of blood. I had not had to do with such a full-sized member with impunity.

    When I had set in order my toilette and my ideas, I went to bed and slept soundly, my husband not intending to return till late in the evening. I awoke about seven, happy, fresh as a lark, and stronger than I had felt for many a day.

    I will not recapitulate all the thoughts that crowded in upon my brain, as I have already said that I had been drawn on by irresistible feelings, and above all a natural absolute craving for the venereal act, that was as necessary for my life as simple food.

    Yet, I was far from depraved! I loved my husband as a sure friend, as the companion of my existence, and if he had possessed the manly vigour that was necessary for me, or if even he had known how to subdue my clever caresses, I should never have dreamt of being unfaithful to him! I resolved to spare him all sorrow, and I have fully succeeded, as he has never had the least suspicion!

    This revolution demanded much care, trouble, and even privation; the town I inhabited was much inclined to scandal, and it was very difficult for me to hide my connection, so I had to take endless precautions, I warned my lover, who, wishing above all to save my repu180 tation, promised to do all in his power not to excite suspicion, and I knew I could rely on his honour.

    A few days went by without our meeting; I suffered greatly and he as much as I! A sign, a look during our walks was our only consolation for eight long days!

    At last, F. could bear it no longer, and came to pay us a visit; we chatted in an ordinary friendly way; someone else called, F. went away; my husband showed him out and returned to the room. I know not what instinct warned me that F. had not left the house! I got up, with some excuse that seemed all the more reasonable as the visitor was keeping up a technical conversation with my husband, and went into the vestibule. I was not mistaken; F., seeing no servants about, was waiting by the street-door.

    As soon as he saw me, he threw himself upon me, clasped me in his arms and with violent passion exclaimed: "Darling angel, how I suffer!"

    "And I?…"

    We were once again between the double doors. Before I knew where I was, our mouths were glued together, my petticoats were up to my navel, his finger pushed itself into my burning slit, that opened beneath its pressure. My hand had seized the darling object.

    What more can I say? In a second or two — a few movements of our hands took place — I swooned with joy, and drew away my hand, bathed all over with an abundance of the warm liquid.

    Yet a few moments went by without our being able to meet, till at last a happy moment of liberty was granted to us.

    A whole hour was ours.

    Ah, how we profited by it! My lover came into my boudoir.

    I rushed to receive him, and I devoured him with caresses.

    "Let us do it quickly," we both exclaimed together, "let us enjoy to the utmost our secret happiness."

    I tore myself from him, pulled up my clothes behind, and, getting onto the sofa on my knees, presented my bottom.

    He put it in at once, and I very soon swooned beneath his copious discharge.

    We then sat down, but my lover was not satisfied, and despite my fears I could not refuse. He went on his knees between my legs, then he made me stretch wide apart. I took his vigorous firebrand in my hand; it was already as hard as ever. I stroked it a second, then pushed it gradually into myself, while I savoured slowly the delightful pleasure.

    When the arrow had completely disappeared in its quiver, F. leant over me, and lifting my two legs over his arms threw me backwards, and went to work so lustily that soon a second ejaculation became added to the first, with which I seemed to be already filled.

    I do not intend to retrace day by day all our delicious interviews; I will limit myself to a description of the most striking facts of this adorable liaison, that I wished would last out my life! My lover know how to vary our pleasures without ever reaching satiety, he felt a singular pleasure in teaching the art of enjoyment and emission, and he found in me a most docile and willing pupil.

    He taught me the names of everything, sometimes making me say them, but only in the whirl of passion; he used them himself in supreme moments of bliss, pretending and rightly too, that such a high spice should never be too much hacknied, or it would lose its flavour! As I write on, I forget myself in these sweet recollections, but what matter after all?

    What cunning caresses! What lascivious postures did he not teach me! What whims, infantile play, and even prolonging on both sides! What refinements of pleasure did we not realise as soon as thought of! I made such progress, under such a good master, that often I surpassed him.

    I used to vastly like to change the way of doing it. For instance, sometimes when plugged from behind, one of my favourite positions, would unhorse my cavalier, turn round quickly, give a kiss to my rosy conqueror, wet with my spendings, and escape to the other end of the room, I would place myself in an easy chair, my legs upraised, and my pussey quite open, while I gave it a provoking twitching movement. My lover was hardly in me again, when by a fresh whim I would draw it out, make him sit on a chair, get on his knees, my back turned towards him, and taking his courser, plunging in my body to the very hilt, let his burning jet finish our sweet operation.

    My dear Minet, as I generally called the splendid instrument of my joy, had become my passion, the object of real worship. I was never tired of admiring its thickness, its stiffness, and its length, all equally marvellous. I would dandle it, suck it, pump at it, caress it in a thousand different ways, and rub it between my titties, holding it there by pressing them with both my hands, Often when captive in this voluptuous passage, it would throw out its dew.

    My lover returned all my caresses with interest. My pussey was his god, his idol. He assured me that no woman had ever possessed a more perfect one. He would open it, and frig it in every conceivable way. His greatest delight was to apply his lips thereto, and extract, so to speak, the quintessence of voluptuousness, by titillations of the tongue, that almost drove me mad. (Continued on page 211)


    KITTYS DREAM

    On her couch, one summer's day,

    Beauteous, youthful Kitty lay;

    Venus saw her from above,

    Smiling Venus, Queen of Love;

    Amaz'd at each celestial grace,

    Her polish'd limbs, her blooming face -

    "Come here, my boy," she said, "and see

    "One you might have took for me."

    Roguish Cupid, laughing, cries,

    "O give me leave to quit the skies,

    "And make that heav'nly maiden prove,

    "The various mysteries of love:

    "The close embrace, the juicy kiss,

    "The raging, melting, dying bliss."

    Venus consented: "Go, my boy,

    "Make her know the height of joy."

    Away the archer and his train,

    Sport along th' ethereal plain.

    Now around the sleeping fair

    Thousand Cupids fill the air;

    In her bosom some inspire

    Tender wishes, fond desire;

    Some in balmy kisses sip

    Nectar from her glowing lip;

    Her each heaving snowy breast,

    Some with wanton ardour press'd;

    Twining round her slender waist,

    Some with eager joy embrac'd;

    Whilst, at random, others rove

    Through the fragrant groves of love.

    Whilst thus the God his revels keeps,

    Kitty, happy virgin, sleeps:

    A pleasing dream her soul employs,

    Rich with imaginary joys.

    She thinks Sir Charles, upon his knees,

    Beseeching her to give him ease;

    That she, disdainful, looks awhile;

    At length, with a complying smile,

    His fears dispelling, lets him see

    She burns with love as well as he:

    That, folded in his eager arms,

    He boldy rifles all her charms,

    Whilst she returns the warm embrace,

    Breast to breast, and face to face.

    Sighing she wakes: "Ah! love," she cries,

    "How vast must be thy real joys!

    "When thus divinely great they seem,

    "Tho' but imagin'd in a dream?"

    Scarcely this reflection o'er,

    A footman thunders at the door;

    Kitty, disordered, leaves her couch,

    And Betty tells the Knight's approach.

    He enters with becoming grace,

    Blushes overspread her face;

    In a soft, persuasive strain,

    He begs her to relieve his pain.

    Nothing she says; but from her eyes

    He learns that nothing she denies.

    Encourag'd thence, her lips, her breast, He tries, and wanders o'er the rest:

    The glowing maid, no longer coy,

    Gives an unbounded loose to joy;

    Around him folds her snowy arms,

    At once bestowing all her charms:

    And now this happy couple prove

    All the substantial sweets of love;

    Till hast'ning to Love's destin'd goal,

    True as the needle to the pole,

    Raging and stung with keen desire,

    In amorous swoonings they expire.

    While thousand Cupids laughing by,

    Assist their blissful ecstasy.

    Loosen'd from his fond embrace,

    "My dream," she cries, "is come to pass."

    "And did my charmer dream of this?"

    Sir Charles replies, and takes a kiss:

    "Henceforth whene'er you dream, my dear,

    "Let me be your interpreter."


    THE BREECHES, OR ST. THOMAS-A-BECKET'S RELIC

    Father Girard was a celebrated preacher in one of the most noted cities of France; a man of ready elocution, handsome person, and a lively eye, which was generally roving among the female part of his audience. As he was one day preaching and searching after hearts instead of God, and striving by wanton ogles to make proselytes to love instead of religion, he happened to fix his eyes on a beautiful young lady named Agatha, wife to a physician called Bernard, and was immediately enamoured with her. The lady was so very devout, that she had her eye constantly fixed on those of the preacher; but notwithstanding the zeal of her devotion, she could not help perceiving that he was handsome, and secretly wished Mons.

    Bernard, her husband, was not less agreeable. When the sermon was ended, Agatha addressed Father Girard to give her confession, who was not a little pleased at hearing so favourable an opportunity to discover his passion. Girard, seated in the confessional chair, heard a short detail of her own sins; but then she began a long account of those of her husband — age, neglect, inability, and lastly jealousy, were reckoned up as cardinal vices. The father confessor, with an amorous grin, replied: Jealousy, madam, is a passion which can scarce be avoided by that happy person who possesses so divine a creature as yourself. Agatha smiled, and, thinking it time to return to some female friends, who were waiting for her, desired absolution. The confessor sighed, and leering on her with another languishing look: My fair daughter, cries he, who can free her who is bound himself? I am captivated with the irresistible power of your beauty, and, without your assistance, can neither absolve myself nor you. Agatha was young, and not well versed in such intrigues; yet by assistance of a good natural apprehension, she was not at a loss to unravel the meaning of these words; she had besides, to quicken her wit, been strictly guarded, and not over well used by Dr.

    Bernard; therefore she had not many scruples of conscience; but soon let Father Girard perceive, that she was not so dull as to mistake his meaning, nor was of so nice a virtue as to be displeased at his declaration, and to find, notwithstanding the sanctity of his character, he was made of flesh and blood. The business of the absolution was entirely forgot; Girard began to be very amorous, and openly professed his passion, and the lady undertook to find some method to have another interview. After some consideration she acquainted him she was often troubled with fits, and that all the medicines her husband could administer, procured her no ease: therefore, said she, the next time he is sent for into the country I'll feign myself ill of those fits, and send for you to bring with you some relic for my relief. I suppose, Father, you'll not refuse my summons, and my confident maid shall conduct you to my chamber. Girard applauded her wit, embraced her with some rapture, and then they parted.

    Dr. Bernard, who apprehended no ill consequence from his wife's religious zeal, was sent for next morning (very opportunely for our lovers) to a country patient. Scarce was he gone, but Agatha was seized with one of her quondam fits, and in the midst of her attendants called frequently for some holy relic — some holy relic of Thomas a Becket.The confident maid, who was intrusted with the whole affair, pressed someone to fetch some of that saint's relics from the next convent, and that Father Girard, famous for his sanctity, should bring it. They obeyed, told Father Girard of the accident, and he, like a holy and pious man, cheerfully hasted away with the utmost expedition.

    Girard arrived, entered the room where the afflicted lady lay, and with a becoming gravity and well acted sanctimony approached the bed-side — Agatha prayed for help from Thomas a Becket. Girard promised his own assistance, and that of the saint also; but said it was necessary before the relic could have the desired effect, she should make her confession. This made everyone depart the room, and left our religious lovers to their private ejaculations.

    The pious father had not long applied the sacred relic of Thomas a Becket, before Dr. Bernard unfortunately returning was heard coming upstairs. The ghostly father leaped from the bed, hurried on his gown, amp;c, but unhappily forgot his breeches, which lay as a useless garment at the bed's head. The confidant, at the stair's head, bawled out her thanks to heaven that her lady was recovered; Dr. Bernard entered the room, and began to frown to see a priest had found the way into his house, and began to suspect something from his wife's sudden illness. Agatha with a cheerful smile, and with religious thanks to heaven, told her husband of her dangerous fit, and her miraculous recovery by Thomas a Becket's relic. The good doctor, deceived by the sham innocence of Agatha, began to correct his jealous thoughts; and Father Girard, after some pious advice, and a few scriptural texts, wisely withdrew.

    Father Girard had not gone far before he recovered from his fright, and, at his recovery, missed his breeches-This put him into another full as bad: What could he do? he dared not go back; but, on consideration, hoped for the best; that Agatha and the maid would convey them secretly away. In the meantime, the careful uxorious Monsieur Bernard was rejoicing at his wife's recovery, and saying a thousand things to her; in the midst of his fondling, he flung himself on the bed by her, and putting his hand back to take her in his arms ran his arms into the breeches. Surprised at the greasy trowsers, the known appurtenance of the priest, he fell into a worse fit than that his wife would have made him believe she had been in. He stormed, he swore, he raved. Amid this distraction, Agatha, with a ready wit, and an innocent face, the peculiar attributes of a woman, replied, without the least hesitation, that it was those breeches which had saved her life (if she had said their contents, she would have been nearer the mark): it is to them, says she, that I owe my cure.

    O thou miraculous vestment of the divine Thomas a Becket, which has shed a pleasing influence on thy adorer, still may thou be the aid of weak woman! These, adds she, the holy father left with me to strengthen me and prevent the return of my fit; in the evening he is to come for them.

    The readiness of this excuse, and the well feigned religion of his wife, either deluded honest Monsieur Bernard; or else, not knowing how to act, he seemed to believe her, and so it passed off. Agatha's confidant, in the evening, was sent to tell father Girard her mistress was entirely recovered, and therefore he should come to fetch away his sacred relics: she added to this commission, and acquainted her mistress's confessor of all that had passed. Father Girard knew not how to act, but, pressed by the necessity of the thing, he went to the warden of the convent, the person who presided over them, and was to punish their irregularity of manners, and acquainted him with the whole affair. The warden reproved him for his negligence; for, says he, fi non cafte, tamen caute; if not chastely, yet cautiously, is the maxim of our convent; however, some expedient must be found out to save the reputation of the order. After some pauses, he ordered the chapel bell to ring, and convened all the brothers of the convent.

    When they were assembled, he told them of a miracle wrought by the power of Thomas a Becket's breeches, in the house of Dr. Bernard; acquainted them with the particulars, and advised to fetch them back to the convent in solemn procession. The whole convent immediately marched out in great order to Dr. Bernard's house. The doctor met them at his door, and desired to know the meaning of so solemn a visit. The warden, who was at the head of them, answered they were obliged, by the rules of their order, to send their relics to distressed people, who desired them, in a private manner, and to fetch them back in a private manner, if through the heinous sins of the person the relic had no effect; but where there was a manifest miracle, they went to bring them home again with solemnity, and to record the whole in the archives of the convent.

    Dr. Bernard conducted the warden and Father Girard up to his wife's bed-chamber. The good lady held out the breeches wrapped up in a clean napkin, which the warden opened and kissed the sacred relic with a personal reverence; then going down, each brother passed by in their turns and paid it the same honours. After which being placed on a long pole, like a military standard, the fraternity returned in greater solemnity, singing an anthem, and followed by vast crowds of people. When they came to their convent, it was placed some days on their altar as an object of devotion; and Dr. Bernard, ostentatious of his wife's piety, told everybody the astonishing miracle wrought on his wife by St. Thomas a Becket's breeches.


    THE THREE CHUMS: A TALE OF LONDON EVERYDAY LIFE

    (Continued from page 134)

    Harry took Alice, as Frank was Lena's cavalier, and the three couples came to a crisis in a chorus of amorous ejaculations, as the floodgates of love gave down copious streams of mingled spunk.

    Presently, when the first bout was over, they sat down to supper, the gentlemen in their shirt sleeves, and the three young ladies, who had dispensed with their dresses, were in the most charming dishabille.

    As soon as the game pie was demolished, each took a girl on his lap, alternately pledging each other, glass in hand, or groping and playing all sorts of larks with each other's p — ks and c — ts.

    Charles was anxious to elicit from each fair one the story of her first seduction, but was met with the usual reticence in such cases, till presently Lena, standing up, said she could recite them some poetry, which exactly tallied with her first experience of the forbidden fruit.

    "Bravo, Lena! Go on," they all exclaimed.

    "Yes, but only on one condition, and that these three gentlemen shall have me all together, while you two girls give their bums a touch of the twigs. Do you agree?"

    "Yes, yes. Bravo, Lena! Go on,"

    "Well then, here goes, The Maiden's Dream. But I must recline upon the sofa, with nothing on but my chemise."

    Then, suiting the action to the word, threw off her dressing gown, laid down in a luxurious position, with her eyes closed, feigning a tumultuously excited dream, one leg bent up, the other hanging over the sofa, her chemise turned up, exposing all the thighs and quim, one hand frigging gently, she lay squirming in ecstasy, as she recited:

    One night, extended on my downy bed,

    Melting in am'rous dreams, although a maid, My active thoughts presented to my view, A youth, undrest, whose charming face I knew.

    Stript to his shirt, he sprang to me in white, Like a kind bridegroom on the nuptial night, And tho' his linen dress ghost-like appear'd, He look'd, alas! too harmless to be fear'd;

    His wishful eyes express'd his eager love, And twinkl'd like the brightest stars above.

    Such modest blushes stain'd his comely face, That sure no virgin-innocence could guess, by his kind looks, of ev'ry grace possest, That he could harbour evil in his breast.

    "Bless me," said I, "Philander, what d'ye mean?

    "How come you hither? — Pray, who let you in?

    "Undrest! — Tis rudeness to approach my bed:

    "Consider, dearest youth, that I'm a maid.

    "You'll catch your death; for Heaven's sake retire;

    "The weather's cold, and I have got no fire,"

    With that between the sheets one leg he thrust, Mix'd it with mine, and sighing said, "I must!"

    Then clasp'd me in his arms: I strove to squeak, But found I had no power to stir or speak;

    My blood confus'dly in its channels ran, My body was all pulse, my breath near gone;

    My cheeks inflam'd, distorted were mine eyes, My breast swell'd out with passion and surprise.

    And still in vain I strove to make a noise, Something, methought, I felt that stopp'd my voice, And did at last such tides of joy impart, That glided through each vein, and fill'd my heart, Recall'd my dying senses back again, And with a flood of pleasure drown'd my pain.

    Thus, for a time, I lay dissolved in bliss, As if translated into Paradise;

    But as no drowsy virgin e'er could find Delight so charming and a youth so kind, And not awake, when on a sudden bless'd With melting joys, too great to be express'd;

    So I, unable to preserve so strong,

    An impress of my dear Philander long,

    — Awak'd, much frighted, felt about my bed, But found, alas! my loving Ariel fled, And all those luscious pleasures gone and past.

    Which seem'd, indeed, too exquisite to last.

    I mourn'd the loss, yet felt some small remains Of the kind warmth still sporting in my veins;

    Although my love was vanish'd, yet I vow, I felt myself all o'er I know not how;

    Thought I, if working fancy in the night.

    Can, in a dream, give me such sweet delight, What must two lovers in a mutual flame Possess, when waking they repeat the same?

    Philander, come, for I'm resolv'd to try The substance, since the shadow yields such joy.

    Alas! one prick's a farce, 'tis not enough for me.

    Come on, my boys, I'm game to take all three!

    All now stripped to the buff, except the slippers and the silk stockings, which added to the natural beauty of the ladies' legs and feet.

    "Ah! I had a delicious spend!" exclaimed Lena, springing on the bed, "but not to be compared with what I expect now, for I shall ride a St. George on Charlie, take Harry in my bottom, and Frank in my mouth."

    She was raging with voluptuous desire, and straddling over our hero, as he lay on his back, impaled herself on his pego, which previous efforts to please the ladies had now brought to a chronic state of enormously stiff erection, it seemed to fill her luscious quim to its utmost capacity, to judge from the stretched appearance of the vermillion lips, as they amorously clung around the staff of life, they so delighted to suck in and out.

    Harry was at, or rather in his post of duty as quickly as it can be written; then Frank, kneeling over Charlie's face, presented his prick as a bonne bouche for Lena to gamahuche, her bottom and head now moved in slow and graceful undulations, as she commenced this three-fold bout of enjoyment.

    Alice and Clara, each provided with light birches, of about three long sprigs, gently touched up the exposed bottoms, till they fairly reddened under the smarting cuts, and quickened the love canter into an impetuous gallop, so that, when the emitting crisis came, the three young fellows fairly howled and shouted with excess of delighted emotion, whilst Lena, going into a fit of hysteria, laughed, cried, and stiffened herself over Charlie, almost throwing Harry out of her bottom, whilst her teeth closed so convulsively on Frank's prick that his delight was considerably mixed with pain.

    When they had a little recovered themselves, "After all," said Clara, "if you have ever read the 'Education of Laura,' there is a scene there that beats you, Lena, for Rose finishes off five young fellows at once, by frigging one in each hand, as well as three, like you just had our friends."

    "I could very soon do that," retorted Lena, "But I don't want to be selfish. Now, which of you girls will volunteer to let me birch you, to excite their three cocks to another grand f-k."

    Alice was agreeable, if someone would horse her on his back and hold her firmly by the wrists. "I'm such a coward, the first cut will make me wince, yet I know how nice and delightful the finish is," she exclaimed.

    Frank engaged to be the horse, as he felt rather spiteful and wished someone to feel real pain, saying he should much prefer to hold Lena on his back, and know her bottom was being well skinned for biting his poor John Thomas.

    I am very much obliged to you for your kind wishes, but Alice's tender rump will give you just as much satisfaction, poor boy, when I once begin to apply some of Mrs. Martinet's scientific touches to it."

    "This is a serious business," she continued, "so I shall just take a double-sized switch of twigs, from the cupboard. Those thin ticklers are only useful just to touch up a man in the act of f-g. Alice's whipping must be much more severe in order to stimulate the now languid tools of our friends, and rouse them again to a state of lustful fury by the sight of the red flesh, weals, and dripping drops of the ruby, as it is distilled from the abraded skin."

    "Oh, pray don't be so bad as that, Lena," said Alice, apprehensively, as she slightly resisted Harry and Charlie trying to mount her on Frank's back.

    "Now, Miss Pert, no nonsense, no drawing back, or I really will make it worse for your bum!" exclaimed Lena, standing up and looking fiercely at her helpless victim, now firmly held over Frank's manly back, whilst Harry and Charlie knelt down on either side to hold her legs, whilst the pretty Clara promised to play with each of the gentlemen's cocks in turn, so as gradually to work them up to a state of glorious stiffness.

    "Oh, it stings so! Ah, not quite so hard, Lena, dear," sighed Alice, as the first two or three light touches made her buttocks tingle under the smart.

    "Is that better, you rude girl? Didn't I catch you frigging yourself in bed this morning?" asked Lena, with a spiteful smile on her face.

    "Ah, ah, oh, no! My God, how you cut me! I shall die. I never frigged myself. I should be ashamed to do such a thing," she sobbed, the tears trickling down her blushing face.

    "Just listen to the hardened thing. It's as bad as saying I'm a liar!" retorted Lena, with two vicious cuts, which made poor Alice scream in agony, and drew the blood up under the skin of her rump.

    "Ah, you bad girl, I'll whip the frigging fancy out of you.

    Wouldn't it be nice to be frigged just now your fanny is rubbing against Frank's back?"

    "Oh! Oh!! Oh!!! I didn't!" screamed Alice, in dreadful pain.

    The cuts fell in rapid succession on the devoted bum, which now began to exhibit beads of blood just starting from the broken skin. The victim was almost senseless, she still struggled and writhed under Lena's scathing cuts, but her head fell forward on Frank's shoulder, her face suffused with crimson flushes, and eyes closed in a kind of voluptuous languor.

    Charlie had acted on the frigging suggestion, and, by his light touches on her excited clitoris, had made her almost faint under the combination of excitements, as she spent so profusely that her thick, creamy emission trickled over his busy fingers and down Frank's back.

    "Lay her on the bed and f-k her," exclaimed Lena, flinging down the rod, which was considerably worn by its work. "Who'll have me on the horse-hair sofa? Will you, Harry?"

    "I'm randy enough for anything, my love!" exclaimed Harry, flashing his pego. "Charles and Clara are not thinking of us; see, he is into her on the hearthrug; look, how she heaves her arse! It's just how Adam and Eve must have shagged on the grass in Eden."

    "Oh, it does prick the flesh so," exclaimed Lena, as she plumped her bottom on the horse-hair, "but it's the finest thing to stimulate a woman you can think of, the little prickly ends of the stiff hair are like pins, and make your a-e bound under every single stroke, it's simply delicious; no one but those who try it can appreciate the delights of a horsehair sofa f- k."

    How she bounded and writhed as Harry fairly and furiously pounded his p — k into her swimming c — t, which seemed to be perfectly insatiable; she was spending again and again every two or three minutes, till at last, with a perfect howl of delight, she drew down his pent-up emission, which shot up into her vitals like a stream of liquid fire.

    Kissing and billing they lay entranced in each others arms for a few minutes, till someone remarked that it would be soon time for breakfast, if they didn't have a little rest.

    Thus ended an ever to be remembered night of Charlie Warner's student life, and after breakfast a few hours later they left the three ladies with many expressions of gratification, and promises to renew the pleasures of the past night at an early opportunity.

    (Continued on page 226)


    AN OLD STORY, IN A NEW WAY

    Not far from hence, a blunt old 'squire, (Deem'd par amount by ev'ry bumpkin near him,) While Hodge one night sat by a neighbour's fire, Beseech'd his wife (a purblind foul), to hear him — "Nanny," quoth he, slily, "since Hodge now is not here,

    "Shall we divert ourselves betwixt the sheets, my dear?"

    Nan soon submitted to the suppliant 'squire, And up the stairs they vigorously ascended;

    But ere she'd gratify'd his warm desire, Or brought the key of nature to th' pitch intended, Hodge loudly knock'd! — when, from their blissful station, The am'rous couple rumbl'd — Ah! ponder now their luckiest situation.

    Nan now began to quake, and fight, and groan, And begg'd of Hodge he would not be in haste, For as she'd been so ill since he'd been gone, Her petticoat must first be 'bout her waist;

    Meanwhile the 'squire (luck'ly as he thought), Caught up his clothes, and in the chimney got.

    The door she op'd, and Hodge admitted in, Who now her piteous case began to moan, Supposing it a stoppage of the wind, And as he smooth'd her down again she groan'd, And faintly said, "Were you to fetch some gin now from the Bear,

    "You can't conceive the good 'twould do, my dear!"

    Hodge with submission to his lovely spouse, Grop'd for a bottle — found one, and did run.

    But ere he'd gone five perches from his house.

    He felt his purse for cash, and found he'd none, Returning back to ask his wife a groat, He soon, alas! found out the subtle plot.

    The 'squire now was scamp'ring o'er the stairs, Caressing Nanny for her skill and cunning, When Hodge (poor mortal!) came in unawares, And thus addressed them both (not unbecoming),

    "You d-d old letcher! and you infernal w — re!

    "I'll" — "Hush!" quoth the 'squire, "here's twenty pounds," and Hodge gave o'er.


    CHOICE LETTER FROM THE GREEK OF ARISTENETUS

    To see now what cunning gypsies these women are! The other day a certain woman of my acquaintance, walking in the market-place with her husband by her side, and a train of servants at her heels, saw a gallant of hers at some distance off, with whom she used to be familiar. She had a mighty longing to whisper something in his ear, and if possible to steal a kiss from him before her husband's face; so to bring the matter about, she pretends to fall upon her knee, and her gallant, who, as it seemed, understood her design, charitably lent her his hand to help her up; then down she tumbles again, and our gentleman was forced the second time to give her his assistance. "Oh! my poor wife," cried the cuckold, in a strange consternation, "I hope thou hast not hurt thyself."

    "Troubled with such cruel fits!" cried she, and then made the third stumble. The gallant on one side, and the husband on the other, did what in them lay to set her on her legs again, but as her fits still increased, the husband, with the help of the kind gentleman, was obliged to carry her to the next tavern; the gallant chafed her hand, and rubbed her face; and all the while the fellow thanked him for the great pains he took with his wife; but finding her indisposition still increased, he ran downstairs like lightning to fetch a physician of his acquaintance to her, not daring to trust his servants with so important a message. In the meantime, lovers were not wanting to administer mutual consolation to each other; so by the time the husband came back with his doctor, his wife was exceedingly refreshed. The gallant was complimented a thousand times, for his civilities on this occasion: "Sir," says the man,

    "I heartily beg your pardon for the trouble my wife has given you." — "Lord, sir!" answered he, "if it was to do ten times again, it would be no trouble." "But indeed it was too much, Sir." "Ffaith," cries the other, "I don't think I can ever do too much for her." "I swear but you have," says the busband, "I find she hath put you into a sweat, with helping her." In short, they drank a loving glass together; the wife pretended she was twenty per cent better than when she set out in the morning, the gallant was highly satisfied with what he had done, and the husband the merriest man alive, to see his wife so miraculously recovered.


    ADVENTURES AND AMOURS OF A BARMAID A SERIES OF FACTS

    (Continued from page 166) As Mr. Capias finished the account of the seduction of the milliner's girls, they were already entering London, and were soon set down at the noted La Belle Sauvage Inn, Ludgate Hill, a hackney coach was called and Capias easily persuaded Polly to go with him to his chambers in the Temple.

    It was yet early in the day, so after a good breakfast provided by the housekeeper they lay down to rest on his bed till the evening, when he expected a friend to supper.

    "Now darling," exclaimed the young barrister, throwing aside his clothes, "undress yourself, and let us enjoy without restraint those delicious pleasures which the accident to the coach interrupted, and of which we afterwards in the gypsy tent had only a rough taste. Ha, what exciting charms; let me caress those swelling orbs of snowy flesh, which I see peeping from your loosened dress. What a difference there is in titties, some girls have next to nothing, others are so full they hang down like the udder of a cow, and then again some of the finest have no nipples to set them off. Yours, my love, are perfection, let me kiss them, suck them, mould them in my hands!"

    This attack upon her bosom almost drove Polly wild with desire, her blood tingled to the tips of the toes, as she heaved with emotion, and sighed — "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

    He had gradually pushed her towards the bed, and presently when her back rested on its edge one of his hands found its way under her clothes to the very seat of bliss.

    "What a lovely notch. I had scarcely time to feel what a beautiful fanny you had when I was so hot for the bliss in the gypsy tent. Now, darling, we can enjoy everything in perfection, and increase the delights of f-g, by such preliminary caresses as these, which will warm the blood, till maddened you beg me to let you have it at once, and my excited p-k revels in your spending gap. And to think that I'm the first, that I took your maidenhead last night."

    She was spending profusely, and begged with sighs of delight for him to satisfy her irresistible longings.

    "Not with your things on, dear, off with them quick — see what a glorious stand I have got- there, caress it, press it in your hand."

    He had taken off every thing, and helped her to do the same; then tossed her on the bed, and was between her open legs, as they stretched wide to receive him, but he toyed with her yet for a minute or two, letting the head of his engine just touch between the warm juicy lips so anxious to take him in.

    "Ah, you tease! Do let me have it!" she almost screamed, heaving up her bottom, to try and get him further in. "Oh, do; don't tease me so," with a deep sigh, "I'm coming again!

    Oh! Oh!"

    He awfully enjoyed this dalliance, but at length took pity on her languishing looks, and slowly drove in up to the hilt, till his balls flapped against the soft velvet cheeks of her rump.

    "I like to begin slowly," he whispered, "and draw out the pleasure till we both get positively wild with lustful frenzy, that is the only way to get the very acme of real enjoyment.

    A young fellow who rams in like a stallion or a rabbit, and spends in a moment, scarcely makes the girl feel any pleasure before he finishes and is off.

    "Many married women have stupid husbands of that sort, who never f-k them properly, is it to be wondered at that women get awfully spooney on a man who introduces them to the real delights of love?"

    "Yes — yes — you darling — but push it in faster now. Ah, I feel its head poking the entrance to my womb at every thrust; that's so delicious. Are you coming, I'm simply swimming in spend. Oh, there it is, it's like warm lightning shooting into me. Oh, oh; don't stop — go on a few more strokes. I'm coming again. Ah, you darling. Ah — rre! Oh!"

    After this they had a sound sleep till seven o'clock, when the housekeeper knocked to say Mr. Verney had come. Thus awakened Polly was delighted to find the young barrister's p — k still tightly encased in her tightly contracted sheath as they had dozed off in each other's embrace.

    She wanted another stirring up, but Capias declined the retainer, and promised to make up for it at night.

    "You're in luck my boy!" said Verney, as his friend Capias introduced him to Miss Polly D-; no other fellow ever has such luck as you have in the field of Venus.

    "Her action is better than her looks," replied Capias, making Polly blush up to her eyes. "Nothing to be ashamed of, my darling, I always tell Verney all my love affairs; but don't you believe him, he's a devil for the girls himself, and one to please them too. Now for supper, she's taken all the strength out of me, and I want refreshing."

    "Nothing like a refresher, after one good fee, is there, Capias. Ah! I wish I was you, the very sight of Miss Polly will make me uncomfortable all night, unless my landlady's daughter takes pity on me, and slips into my bed when I get home!"

    At supper, and during the evening Verney scarcely took his eyes off our heroine, who could easily see how she had influenced him. Capias seemed anything but jealous, and paid far more attention to the bottle than to his new love, which rather chagrined her. Verney was a brilliant pianist, playing and singing with great feeling, and casting his eye on Polly when there was any suggestive point in the song. It was a a dreadful night out of doors, so the housekeeper was asked to make up a bed for Verney on a good wide sofa. He gave Polly a significant glance as this arrangement was made, and also looked at the spirit stand, to give her a hint of his plans.

    Capias when in convivial company was too much given to whiskey and water, which he took like a fish, giving no heed to the duties Polly would expect from him when they retired to bed. At length she said she felt tired, and bidding Verney good night asked Capias not to sit up too long, went into the bedroom. Verney mixed his friend an awfully stiff glass for the last, and as he swallowed it wished him pleasant dreams and plenty of f-g, adding, "I shall have the horn all night myself thinking of you."

    The sot scrambled into bed to be received in Polly's longing embrace.

    "Now, sir, you're almost drunk and sleepy, keep awake till I'm satisfied, or my name's not Polly if I don't leave you, and ask your friend to do your duty for you. You haven't taken a bit of notice of me all evening. Ah! you don't even stand," as she groped with her hand, and found only a limp affair for her trouble.

    He was not so stupid, but he knew his deficiency, so taking one of her nipples in his mouth tried to raise the requisite desire, her fingers did their best to second the feeble effort, whilst his fingers on her clitoris aroused her amorous flame in all its intensity. At last he dropped into a sound drunkard's sleep, just as she was spending and almost frantic with baffled desire.

    "You brute, you sot," she angrily exclaimed, pushing him away from her, "you're sodden with Irish whiskey. See if I don't keep my threat. Verney looks a fine fellow, who only wants a chance."

    Springing from the bed, with nothing but her chemise on, she rushed into the other room, and threw herself into an easy chair, sobbing as if her heart would break, as she covered her face with her hands.

    "By Jove, damn it, what's the matter," exclaimed Verney, as he awoke from a real sleep, and could just make her out by the light of the fire, so throwing off the bed-clothes, he got off the sofa, and knelt at her feet on the hearthrug.

    "What's he done, to turn you out of the room, my dear, do tell me; I'd kick him into the street for your sake, Polly!"

    "It's what he hasn't done!" she replied, sobbing, as he continued to ask the cause, and had put his arm round her waist, till her head rested on his manly shoulder.

    "Oh, oh; I couldn't bear it to lie all night in bed with a drunken man. I'll get my clothes and leave this place!"

    His hand was now up between her thighs, and his lips imprinted hot warm kisses on her burning cheeks. Higher and higher crept that insinuating hand, till he got fair possession of her chink, all moistened as it was with warm creamy emissions. She still sobbed on his shoulder, as her legs slightly parted, whilst a perceptible shudder of suppressed emotion told him too surely that his success would soon be complete.

    Withdrawing his hand for a moment from that burning spot, he lifted her naked foot till it rested on his rampant tool, as stiff and hard as iron, as it throbbed under that caressing foot which his hand directed, so that it gently frigged him.

    From her face his lips found their way to her bosom, and her sighs and oh's too plainly spoke her feelings, so taking her boldly in his arms he carried Polly to the sofa, and stretched himself by her side, with his tremendous truncheon stiff against her belly; he placed her hand upon it, and opening her legs she directed it herself to her c — t, and they commenced a delightful side f — k, their lips glued together, tipping each other the tips of their tongues; this made him spend in a moment, but rolling her over on her back he kept up the stroke, till she also spent in an agony of delight.

    Resting for a few moments he went on again, her legs entwined over his loins as she heaved and writhed in all the voluptuous ecstasy of her lascivious nature, spending every few minutes a perfect flood of warm spunk, to the intense delight of his p — k, which fairly revelled in the delicious moisture, which excited him more and more every moment.

    Their bounding strokes made the sofa fairly creak, and anyone not in such a drunken sleep as Capias must have been awakened.

    "Ah!" sighed Polly, scarcely able to catch her breath.

    "You beat him fairly, and I thought no man could possibly have given me more pleasure than he did. Drive on, push it in, balls and all — oh, f-k, f-k me. Oh! I'm coming again, what a spend yours is, how you shoot it into me, you dear fellow."

    After this he promised to take care of her, and gave her an address where she could get two nice rooms, but persuaded her to lie down by the side of Capias again, saying, "And when he wakes in the morning, dearest, don't let him touch you — say*no! You couldn't f-k me last night, and now you shan't again!' That will be a good excuse to leave him."

    She acted up to this advice, and got clear of the Temple in a few hours, without the barrister suspecting his friend Verney had had a finger in the pie.

    Polly drove to the address, where Mrs. Swipes, the landlady, said she was always glad to welcome any friend of Mr. Verney's, who was such a very kind gentleman.

    Her new lover called in the evening to renew his f-g, much to the ever-randy Polly's delight, and left her several bawdy books to read, including Fanny Hill, The Ups and Downs of Life, The New Ladies' Tickler, also three large and especially interesting volumes, full of large coloured plates, and every variety of erotic reading, tales, and songs, amp;c, called The Pearl Magazine/' which he assured her cost him?30. On taking leave after breakfast next morning, he particularly advised her to be guided by Mrs. Swipe's advice in everything.

    "And you can easily be the best of friends with the old woman by indulging her love of gin every day, half a pint doesn't cost much, and I'll pay all your expenses. Be agreeable to the other girls in the house, and you'll be as happy as a queen; I'm not a jealous sort, and you'll get plenty of the staff of life!"

    By this Polly guessed she was in a gay house, but felt pretty confident of taking care of herself, as she picked up a purse of gold he left for her on the table.

    "My dear," said Mrs. Swipes, as she lapped her Old Tom,

    "gin gives one such an appetite, I can always eat well, but it's too depressing for men, takes all the starch our of their p — ks you know, so never offer anything so vulgar to gentlemen friends, let them send out for champagne or brandy; whiskey, even, is not bad. You know the saying, 'Whiskey makes the love hot, and brandy makes it long.' For my part, dear, give me a man who can keep his place well, and go on with his f-g, getting stiffer and bigger inside my c — t, till he stirs my blood, raises all my passions to such a pitch, that when at length both come together it is really the melting of two souls into one, and leaves you to fall into that after blissful ecstasy which only true and experienced f-s really understand."

    Wetting her mouth with the gin she again went on, "Fellows who are so hot that they no sooner get into a girl than it is all over don't give a bit of pleasure — even some old men are so warm that they only require the sight of a pretty leg and foot to make them come in their breeches. La, my dear5 you couldn't think what a nasty lot of fellows there are in London, both old and young men, who go about in crowds, or ride in coaches, where they can feel girls' bottoms, or tread on their toes, which is all they need to bring on a spend, instead of having a straightforward honest f- k, and paying for it, all the pleasure is had on the cheap. Never notice such fellows, always slap their faces. Now, my dear, if you would like to meet a real nice gentleman- such a handsome fellow too, a real Lord- lots of money, plenty of fizz, and everything jolly — why, my love, he likes to f-k me, old as I am, sometimes, as he says, plenty of good soup can be made in an old pot. Bessie Jones is awfully spooney on him, and he is coming to supper with us to-night if you like to make one of the party — what do you say, dear?"

    "But how will Bessie like you to introduce me?" asked Polly.

    "Do you think I'd have a jealous fool in my house? Why his lordship always expects me to introduce him to every new lady who comes into my house. Bessie and you will be the best of friends."

    Here there was a tap at the door of Polly's apartment.

    "Come in," exclaimed Mrs. Swipes. "Oh, it's you, Bessie, is it; let me introduce you to our new lady, Miss Polly- ahem, what's your name, my dear?"

    "Never mind that; what will Miss Bessie take to wet the introduction?" said Polly.

    "I know what I should like to give her, and that's a good birch rod on her fat bum, for disturbing our quiet little confab," said Mrs. Swipes.

    "Would you, indeed, you dear old girl, you do like to see a rosy bottom, getting redder under your strokes till the blood fairly trickles down at last. Stand a bottle of fizz, and I don't mind lending you my a — e for a few minutes, it leads up to such pleasant sensations, and may be a novelty for our new friend Miss Polly; and I must apologize for my intrusion, the fact is I heard your voice in the room, as I was going down stairs to ask if Lord Rodney is coming to supper this evening."

    "Fudge!" exclaimed Mrs. Swipes, "why don't you honestly say you guessed we'd got a drop of drink. I'll soon fetch the fizz and take the price out of your arse, my impudent^ cheeky beauty, although I know you enjoy the touch of the twigs as much as I do the using them, the sight will give Miss Polly here a new sensation, or I'm no judge of character, she looks warm enough for anything!"

    "Thank you for the compliment," replied our heroine. "I own I'm not a lump of ice, but make haste, I'm curious to see the birching!"

    The landlady went to the cellar in person, and soon reappeared with a bottle of true Madame Cliquot, in which the three ladies pledged each other "long life and plenty of f-g."

    Mrs. Swipes had also brought with her, from the lower regions of the house, a long thin brown paper parcel, from which she unrolled a beautiful little tickle-tail, composed of a few long fine sprigs of birch, handsomely tied up with blue velvet and red silk ribbons at the handle end, whilst the tips of the twigs were so arranged as to spread out and cover a considerable area of any devoted bum they might be applied to.

    "Lay me over the end of the sofa, and Miss Polly must hold my hands," said Bessie, slipping off her dressing gown, which at once revealed that she had only her corset, chemise, and drawers to hide her person, which was set off to the best advantage by pink silk stockings, pretty gold buckled blue garters, and elegant high-heeled French slippers.

    "As hard as you like, Swipes, dear, but you know I expect the gamahuche for a wind up at the finish."

    "I'm all there when the tingling cuts make you spend, my darling, I wouldn't miss sucking up every drop for the world," replied Mrs. S., taking up the switch, as Bessie kneeled up on the sofa, and gave Polly her hands to hold tight, as she reclined over the round head of that piece of furniture.

    The landlady now quickly unbuttoned the band of Bessie's drawers, pulling them down to her knees, and tucking the tail of the thin cambric chemise out of the way under her corset, both before and behind, so as to give a full view of a truly magnificent white rump, and all the stock-in-trade of a handsome and pretty young whore as one could wish to see.

    "I'll begin as I mean to go on!" said Mrs. Swipes, giving a very spiteful swish to commence with.

    "How do they feel Bessie, dear?" followed up with a succession of sharp cuts, which fairly reddened the flesh of her posteriors, and made her writhe under the stinging sensation.

    Polly could see as she held her hands how her face flushed at the first smart of the rod, then how Bessie squirmed at each cut, getting ever more and more flushed, as she bit her lips to prevent crying out.

    Polly could also very well see the reddening surface and rising weals as they appeared under the ruthless and stinging switches of the landlady, whose face flushed with delight as the flagellation proceeded.

    This made the blood tingle in the veins of our heroine, who quite shivered with emotion, and an indescribable feeling of voluptuous desire.

    In about five minutes Miss Jones gave most evident signs of the approaching crisis, she closed her eyes, and hung her head over the end of the sofa, her bottom and thighs fairly quivering with the excess of her emotions, till Mrs. Swipes, throwing aside the now useless birch rod, rushed on her victim with all the energy of an excited tribade, turning the girl over on her back, and burying her face between Miss Bessie's thighs, as she licked and sucked up every drop of spendings from her victim's quivering q — * m, to the great delight and excitement of Miss Polly, who sat down and frigged herself in sympathy at the voluptuous sight.

    (Continued on page 237)


    CURIOUS MILITARY LOVE-EPISTLE

    Written by a Subaltern Officer to a young Lady

    Dear Miss, I have been informed by the secretary of the news, that the fire of love was kindled among the faggots of your soul, and that, as your father is a bricklayer, you had taken the trowel of your senses, to build up the wall of our affections with the mortar of constancy. It is on this account that I also would light up the fire of my indifference, in order to cook the flesh of my affection in the pot of your beauties. But if, when I make my approaches, you should retire to the citadel of indifference, I shall then arm myself with the panoply of patience, till I can batter your covered way with double-headed shot, backed with bombs and mortars — at least I shall not desist from my attack upon you, unless, after throwing my bombs, I should be so fortunate as to spring the mine of multiplication, and blow you up with the powder of pregnancy and propagation.

    I am, dear Miss, yours, amp;c.

    Ensign Flame.


  • VOLUPTUOUS CONFESSIONS OF A FRENCH LADY OF FASHION
  • PART 11
  • KITTYS DREAM
  • THE BREECHES, OR ST. THOMAS-A-BECKET'S RELIC
  • THE THREE CHUMS: A TALE OF LONDON EVERYDAY LIFE
  • AN OLD STORY, IN A NEW WAY
  • CHOICE LETTER FROM THE GREEK OF ARISTENETUS
  • ADVENTURES AND AMOURS OF A BARMAID A SERIES OF FACTS
  • CURIOUS MILITARY LOVE-EPISTLE
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