Charlotte, Sir Richard... And Mr Darcy

by C P Waterman

  “Such as…?”

  He leaned forward and kissed her full on this lips; at the same time she felt his hand sweep round her waist and settle on her butt; his fingertips crept down the crevice between her butt cheeks and fondled her genitalia from behind. She parted her thighs so allow his finger to venture further up inside her; if only he and she could stay in this position forever, she thought, attempting to lower herself downward to encourage him to begin fingering her. But he pulled away. “I’m sorry. I have things to do. I must have the servants prepare for Darcy’s arrival.”

  She was surprised as his sudden change of mood, but then reflected on the nature of their relationship; she had seen them making love in the parkland and the woods at Pemberley, and had sketched them naked together. Never could two men be closer.

  “I fear I won’t be able to entertain you for two or three hours,” he continued. “What would you like to do? There is some beautiful scenery in the district, if you wanted to take yourself off to do some sketching.”

  “My book is nearly full -”

  “Then take my coach and I’ll have my man drive you out to Canterbury to buy a new sketchbook. It’s not far, and there are several excellent stationers there.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a half-sovereign. “This should cover the price.”

  “I couldn’t possibly take your money,” she protested.

  He waved his hand dismissively and shook his head. “I’m thinking of this as an investment, if your talent is as good as it appears to be. I want you to produce a few more pictures; I will take them to a publisher to see if there is any merit in having engravings produced and sold through a bookseller in Holywell Street, London. I could make you a rich woman.”

  Less than a quarter of an hour later, Charlotte was in Sir Richard’s coach being driven to Canterbury. It did not take her long to find the sketchbook she needed; the pages were larger and more numerous than the one she had been using. On the return journey, she tried to imagine the kinds of poses she might draw; they would be far more salacious than the ones she had drawn at Pemberley over the last few days. She had an idea that, the more prurient the subject, the more likely it would attract the attention of buyers.

  When she returned to the house, Sir Richard’s butler informed her that the master was out riding for an hour. In the meantime she was welcome to take refreshment in the sitting room, or to use his library, or do whatever she wished. She wondered if he had left his Holywell Street purchase in the library, ready to hand it over to Darcy when he arrived.

  “I think I’ll browse over his bookshelves,” she said to the butler.

  He offered to show her the way.

  “Thank you,” she smiled. “I do know the way, and I’m sure you have a hundred other more important things to do.”

  He bowed and left her to find the library.

  When she walked in, she shut the door, hoping to find it could be locked. But there was no means of securing it. The pictures she sought were in a neat pile on the desk, and she felt a powerful temptation to inspect them once again - this time in total solitude. And she was horny. Was she prepared to run the risk of getting caught if any of the staff walked in? Surely it was worth it, she told herself. She felt the surge of lust racing through her, and was ready to abandon all sense of propriety to fulfil the urgent needs of her body while she perused these raunchy pictures.

  Spreading them out across the desk, she looked at each of them as she put herself in position; she stood at a corner of the table and pushed her private parts against it; the hard wood rubbed against her bud and she thrust forward and reversed, time and time again. The first picture showed a young woman submitting to a lustful Turk or other man from the East; the woman’s legs were open wide, exposing her open pink crevice, ready for him to invade. The next showed a queue of nuns, lining up to take their turn to kneel before their priest but, at the head of the queue, a nun remained standing and pulled up her habit, exposing her genitals; the nun was a man, with a large erection which the priest gladly began to suck. Charlotte felt her bud twitch in excitement, and quickly moved on to the next picture.

  There was a delicious throbbing in her private parts; a thrill of expectation filled her mind as she focused on a scene where a gentleman had unbuttoned the flap on his breeches and stood ready to enter a willing young woman whose butt was displayed ready for him. It was too much for Charlotte to bear; she pulled up her skirt and rested her vagina on the corner of the wooden desk, working her pelvis back and forward against it until she felt overtaken by a savage sensation of lust. This was the table, the very table, where she had watched him masturbate earlier. She felt close to him now. As her orgasm swept through her, her knees trembled and she had to hold the sides of the desk to steady herself.

  When the crazy pulsations had faded, she used her skirt to wipe the signs of moisture her body had secreted on the corner of the table. Fully composed once more, she gathered the pictures together and stacked them in a neat pile, just as she had found them, and decided she would go to her room. Energised by fresh ideas from this pornographic gallery, she began sketching a few rough ideas of her own.

  First, she drew a kneeling figure, a beautiful young man, holding an erection in his mouth; the owner of the penis began to appear as a strong, rugged individual. The young man's eyes were shut in concentration, totally absorbed in the need to give pleasure to his partner. The older man, standing, screwed up his face in abject delight; he held the young man's head steady in his strong hands.

  It was not long before she had finished the picture. She wondered if Sir Richard needed any background in the scene. A landscape, perhaps? Or were the men making love in an elegant interior? She would show it to him when he returned, and he could decide.

  She began another; this time two men were kneeling on all fours, one behind the other. The man at the rear had his hand on the first man's semi-erect penis, bending it back so that he could suck it. She was unsure whether such a position was realistic, and she would have to ask him for advice.

  By and by, she heard the sound of a horse and coach arriving downstairs at the front of the house. Surely Mr Darcy had not arrived already? She looked out of the open window. Yes, it was he. Sir Richard was anxious that she should not meet him here, and this would mean she was virtually a prisoner in this chamber for as long as Mr Darcy was a guest.

  She saw Sir Richard emerging from the house to greet his kinsman. “Darcy! You're much earlier than I anticipated.”

  “It couldn't be helped,” Darcy replied. “Aunt Catherine insisted on travelling yesterday afternoon, and I had no choice but to escort her and Anne back to Kent; we didn't arrive at Rosings until late. Then, today, I did not rise until mid-morning, and here I am… to collect the documents you purchased for me in London yesterday.”

  “Come in! Come in, my dear fellow! Can I offer you something to eat or drink?”

  “No, thank you. I have not long had breakfast. But perhaps we can go for a turn in the garden? Your residence offers so much more privacy than I have at Pemberley.” Charlotte noticed him grin at his host.

  Nothing more was said; the coachman drove the vehicle to the stables and would await further instructions. Meanwhile, the two men strode off to the garden, arm in arm. She noticed two gardeners who had been busy working on the lawn scurry away, anxious not to witness anything that might be considered improper.

  Charlotte felt frustrated. She would have loved to follow them and to see what they would do together. She had been watching them at Pemberley, and had considered she might have witnessed everything that one man could possibly do to another. But then again, she had learned so much in the last few days, and surely there was even more for her to learn, and to sketch? Was she prepared to take the risk of going into the garden and observing what these two lovers would do with each other?

  There was a closet in the chamber in which a maid had stored the clothes she had brought with her. She wondered if there was anything there which neith
er man had already seen her wearing. She could disguise herself, perhaps.

  When she looked inside the closet, she noticed other apparel which did not belong to her. There was a lady's brown cloak. She decided to put it on, and went downstairs. She asked a footman where she might find Sir Richard.

  He pointed out the direction in which he had gone with Mr Darcy and she followed, but as soon as she had seen them in the distance she hid carefully, making sure that she could not be seen.

  By and by she noticed them in the distance, and crept up slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Darcy was leaning against a tree, and Sir Richard was pulling down Darcy's breaches. She stopped in her tracks, and hid behind a bush, watching carefully. Mesmerised, she saw Sir Richard sucking Darcy's erection; Darcy had his hands on Sir Richard's shoulder, and his head looked up at the treetops, his eyes closed as if in another world.

  Her hand went straight down to her private parts, and she began stroking her bud. She was already wet down there, and her hand was slipping and sliding around as she was working hard to reach her climax. She longed to suck Sir Richard's cock once more, and she began to curse herself now for not having brought her sketchbook with her. She would have to capture the scene in her mind and, as soon as she returned to her chamber, she would record the incident.

  She stood riveted to the spot when she saw Darcy reaching his orgasm; she noticed he spurted his semen on Sir Richard's face. Sir Richard stood up and the two men kissed, their bodies writhing against each other in a wild frenzy. A wave of raw lust overtook Charlotte now and her climax came quickly. She squeezed her eyes shut as the wave crashed through her and, when she opened them again, she saw Sir Richard on the grass, on all fours, with Darcy behind him, his lips almost touching his friend’s butt.

  Darcy grasped Sir Richard's erection and pulled it back hard so that he could place it in his mouth and suck him into a sublime state of ecstasy. She noticed that Sir Richard's testicles were now tight behind his penis, and this sight induced a fresh wave of excitement to dawn within her. She had imagined a somewhat similar situation between two male lovers when she had been drawing an hour or so earlier, and this fantasy was now being brought to life in front of her. She could not wait to return to her chamber and record this second scene in her sketchbook.

  But she realised she had to be patient. For soon, Sir Richard had changed places with Darcy and had now put his erection between Darcy's legs and was thrusting his cock against his friend’s testicles rather than inserting it into his anus.

  She wanted to get closer to examine this action in detail so that she could record it in her collection of erotic art. But she dare not do anything that would reveal her presence; Darcy must never know that she was here, and only Sir Richard could ever know that she had this lewd interest in intimacy between two men.

  After today, she might never see the two men together again, and she wanted this incident to remain in her memory for ever. She might never enjoy such passion again, for - when her husband declared they had a sufficient number of children and there was no further need for sexual activity between them - her loveless marriage would perish. Sir Richard had awakened her passion in the last week, and that stimulus could never desert her now.

  She continued to watch as the two men pulled up their breeches and strode back to the house. She would return furtively and find the kitchen entrance; if she could find the servants’ staircase, she would avoid any contact with the two men while they were together.

  Once inside the house, she lost her bearings and realised she was suddenly passing the sitting room; the door was slightly ajar, and she was able to hear the conversation.

  “I was looking forward to seeing the maid Sally again,” said Darcy. “Might it be possible for me to spend an hour or so in her company? Or have you taken her for your own use?”

  “No,” Sir Richard replied. “If you have time to spend with her, I have no objection. I have a new feminine interest myself now. A lady with superb artistic talents. Would you like to see some of her work? I have one picture that I would like to present to you as a souvenir of your visit today.”

  Unable to see the men in the room as she stood by the door, Charlotte heard the rustle of paper as Sir Richard passed the sheets of her sketches to Darcy.

  “Who is this woman? She has brilliant observational skills. And the depictions of her subjects… damn it, Walden, she’s got my cock stirring!”

  Charlotte blushed at that compliment. There were at least two men in the world who appreciated her talent, and a warm glow of satisfaction filled her mind. She had heard enough; she decided to return to her room and to draw another picture.

  As she moved towards the staircase, a footman passed by and entered the sitting room. She paused to listen.

  “Excuse me, Sir,” the footman began. “A man has come from Rosings with a message from Lady Catherine de Bourgh for Mr Darcy. She urgently desires to see him at her house again as soon as possible.”

  Not wishing to be caught eavesdropping as the footman walked back into the hall, Charlotte ascended the staircase and went to her room; she took off the cloak and returned it to its place in the closet before pulling out her sketchbook and beginning a new drawing, recalling the scenes she had witnessed whilst out in the woods less than an hour before.

  After finishing two drawings, she felt an impulse to create something more original. She had in mind a scene where Sir Richard was lying on the ground on his back, his head nearest the viewer, and Mr Darcy was naked, squatting over his face. Mr Darcy had his fingers curled round his magnificent erection, and Sir Richard was licking Mr Darcy’s testicles as they dangled in front of his mouth. She had only begun drawing the main action, and had not given faces to the two actors in the scene. The sound of a horse trotting outside the house suggested that Mr Darcy was departing already.

  There was a knock at the door, and Sir Richard walked in. “A change of plan,” he announced. “Mr Darcy has to depart in a hurry, so we have the house to ourselves once more. What would you like to do?”

  “I’m not sure,” she answered.

  He strode over to where she sat and looked down at the half-finished picture. “I like that,” he murmured. “I like that very much. Would you like to do that to me? Now? Here, in this room?”

  She got down on the floor, and waited while he undressed and crouched over her face. She took his limp penis in her mouth and twirled it round with her tongue until it hardened. Then, holding it in her fingers, she began stroking it whilst licking his testicles. She heard him moan with satisfaction and, with her free hand, reached down between his legs to fondle her own genitalia.

  “Can you keep your tongue lapping at the back of my balls, please?” he whispered. “I’ve never had such an intense sensation.”

  She complied, and felt his erection reach its full thickness and length in response to her actions. And her other hand felt her own parts moistening with the increased excitement. As their passion escalated, she noticed the tip of his glans was glistening. It would not be long now.

  Then she felt a shudder in her body down below, and a powerful climax interrupted her activity without any warning. She froze while it pulsed its way through; she did want a single moment of this glorious orgasm to escape her consciousness.

  “Please don’t stop,” he gasped, aware that her tongue had ceased working on his body at this most critical moment.

  Spontaneously, she resumed lapping his testicles but, in the next moment, he cried out and she felt his semen pumping its way up his stiff shaft; she watched transfixed as the first droplets of cream shot out from within him and landed on her face. The experience caused her own orgasm to continue past its normal course; she never wanted it to stop.

  But everything comes to a natural conclusion and, when their passions were spent, they collected their thoughts in the ensuing silence. Charlotte resumed her drawing, satisfied that her hands were no longer trembling. He sat beside her and watched as her sketch came
to life, recording the wonderful moments they had just shared together.

  Later, just as they were finishing lunch in the dining room, a rider came to Oakhurst with a message from Rosings, the residence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  “It’s from Darcy,” Sir Richard observed, breaking the seal and opening it. Another dispatch dropped out and fell on the floor; he looked at it and then continued reading the document. “He asks me to pass this enclosed note to the artist who drew the sketch I gave him this morning.” He handed it to her; she opened it and read the contents aloud.

  Madam,

  We have never met, but we have a mutual acquaintance in Sir Richard Walden, who has graciously bestowed upon me one of your drawings. You have an especial talent and I would be very happy to purchase any more of your works as they become available. You may contact me through Sir Richard, who can act as your agent in any transactions between us.

  I am,

  Yours, etc.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  She looked across at him and smiled.

  “Well, Mrs Collins, we only have a limited amount of time at our disposal before you have to return to your husband. You will have to go back to your studio upstairs and resume your creative output. And I must accompany you, as your artist’s model. What erotic pose do you have in mind for me this afternoon?”

  5.

  Mr Darcy Wants More

  Charlotte had been staying at Pemberley while her husband, the Reverend William Collins, was at a diocesan conference and she had no wish to remain alone with his servants at the parsonage. Whilst at Pemberley, she met Sir Richard Walden - another guest - who was Mr Darcy’s intimate friend; they had been educated together at Eton many years previously and were both nephews of the redoubtable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who also happened to be staying as a guest in the house at that time. She was Charlotte’s husband’s benefactor and she wanted to avoid meeting her; if she knew that Charlotte was in the neighborhood, she would have told her husband and she would have to explain her conduct to him, having vacated the parsonage to visit friends without his consent.