“Then the sooner you see things in the proper light the better for you, Captain Devereaux! Fanny is not your wife. You have no business to love her. For the matter of that you have no more business to fuck her than to fuck me, but as you have chosen to do that, and Fanny thinks it nice, I choose that you should fuck me also, for; to tell you the truth, I think it something more than nice. It’s simply rapturous! Oh! don’t be a stupid man! Now, are not two cunts better than one?”
I laughed. I could not help it.
“Well, Amy, only help me to defend myself against Fanny and get her to see things with your eyes and I will prove to you that I do think two cunts better than one.”
“All right. I’ll easily do that. Now come, let us go back to Mrs. Corbett’s, and mind you are not a minute later than ten o’clock over there.”
All this part of my history is still painful for me to remember. I do not deny the sweetness of Amy’s really delicious little cunt. It was of the very finest sort, and I had the most real pleasure fucking it. It had the advantage of being a new one for me. Ii had been deflowered by me. It belonged to as pretty a girl as there was in India. It was extremely sensitive to pleasure and was a perfect fountain under my vigorous treatment of it, but, alas for the buts, Oh! how much more delightful to me it would have been had I not been so entrapped into it. I could now understand what a woman feels like, who has been fucked against her will and without her consent. Over and above these latter feelings was the absolute certainty of the pain, the mental and heartfelt agony Fanny would surely experience, when she came to hear, that within twenty-four hours of my being between her thighs, I had passed between those of her sister, and that, night after night, I had fucked Amy.
Evidently from Amy’s account, Fanny had confided in her, and months had passed since that confidence had first been given. Once it may have been enforced confidence, but at any rate Fanny had the right to expect that Amy would not take advantage of it now, at this late period, when she might have profited by it months ago. Poor Fanny had gone away to Rampur, sure of two things, the fidelity of her Charlie and the faithfulness of her sister. I trust therefore that my gentle readers will excuse me from dwelling on the events of the next six nights, during which I fucked Amy regularly, and really well, in Fanny’s bed. I had pleasure—a great deal—but it was mingled with pain, the pain of the heart. No more cobras invited destruction under my feet, or threatened me, and Amy utterly disbelieved my story. I, however, had the cobra carefully bottled up in spirits, to show Fanny, and Amy, too, if she cared to come by day light to my bungalow.
Amy certainly gave me no rest. I don’t think she could know it was possible to exhaust a man. Feeling herself always ready to be fucked, she regarded the stand of a prick as quite voluntary on the part of the lover. Thanks to the splendid constitution I had been born with, and the powers which, from what women have told me, I fancy very few men are endowed with, I was quite “able” for Amy, and never disappointed her a single time. In fact, I believe, she would have been the first to say, “I’ve had enough,” had we continued this night after night fucking. Hence it was that she did not mind sharing me with Fanny, and wished, really wished, me to fuck Mabel too.
She knows different now. She is married now and has discovered that there are men and men. In her last letter to me, received not a week ago, she speaks very penitently of the way she treated me at Fackabad, and says she had no idea then of what a treasure she had in me. It is very nice to be told this now but I did not admire being by her as a complete tool at Fackabad.
The Colonel had only written once from Rampur, and Fanny not at all. I was glad and sorry she had not done so.
She told me, when she came back, that she was burning to write, but feared her father’s asking questions and perhaps seeing her letter, and she said if once she began to write, she could not have kept her pen from speaking some burning words, which she was so accustomed to use, when we were in our skins together.
So she thought it best not to write except one short little note.
On the morning of the day we expected them back from Rampur, just as I was putting on my pajamas and jersey, and looking at the naked Amy, who had so cruelly robbed me of my peace, of Fanny, and her full share in future of my prick and balls, Amy said, “Oh, by the bye, Captain Devereaux! I’ve got something for you here.”
“What is it Amy?”
“Oh! a letter from Fanny.”
And she put her hand under her pillow and drew forth a little note she had put there over night and had forgotten to give me before.
“Oh! Amy, why did you not give me this before?”
“I forgot.”
“You know I love Fanny. It is cruel of you Amy.”
“Pooh! What do I care. Lord, what a rage Fanny will be in when she hears the news!”
“It will break her heart.”
“Fiddle-de-dee! She will roar and cry, and call me names and you too, Captain Devereaux! Oh! she will tear your eyes out!”
“I will tell her the truth, Amy, and then if she can forgive me I shall be happy—but—will she?”
“Of course she will. Bless you, I know Fanny better than you do, Captain Devereaux. She will try it on. Yes, she will try it on. She will rave, and storm, and threaten, but if you take her coolly and let her know that it is of no use crying over spilt milk, but there is more milk for her if she chooses to take it, she will quiet down fast enough. Fanny is not quite such a fool as not to know that half a loaf is better than no bread. But she is greedy. She never offered to share you with me, and now she must. It serves her right. And I am rather glad you don’t like fucking me, because it serves you right too!”
“But Amy, I do like fucking you! As far as mere fucking goes you are quite as good as Fanny.”
“Thank you for nothing! Mere fucking! You won’t persuade me you see anything more in Fanny than a nice little cunt! I don’t believe in it. No, no, Captain Devereaux! You are sore because you have to fuck me whether you like it or not. Only for that you would not be sorry to have both me and Fanny, aye, and Mabel too, and Sugdaya and every other woman in Fackabad also!”
It was no use trying to make: Amy sensible that granting all cunts to be equally delicious from a physical point of view, and all girls equally young, nice and beautiful, yet love distinguished one above all others, and her cunt is, after all, the most delicious of all. I left her in disgust, mad with myself, because I could not master my prick and because I could not help confessing that she was a perfect and exquisite poke.
On going back to my bungalow I read the precious letter from Fanny. It was full of love and happiness at the prospect of being once more in my arms. Poor, dear girl! She appeared not to have the least doubt as to Amy or anyone else occupying my thoughts during her absence. So far from imagining that I should take advantage of her being at Rampur, and endeavor to get into Amy, or Mabel, she said, in her letter, that she hoped on her return to hear that I had not forgotten that they were her sisters, and to find that I had, for her sake, been kind to them, and had been to visit them at Mrs. Corbett’s, where she imagined they must have been very lonely without her and papa.
This letter gave me the greatest possible pain. What would Fanny say, when she discovered the truth? It would nearly kill her! She trusted me so much and so completely. She did not dream of a rival, and she could have had no notion that she would find a most formidable rival and oppressor in Amy, her own sister. What a deep and designing game Amy had played! And how patiently had she waited until she could put her scheme into action. Herein I saw Sugdaya’s hand. No one but a native, or one governed by a native, could have possessed their souls and senses in such a state of entire patience as Amy had done. For she was everything but cool and composed while I fucked her. She was such flame and fury that it was impossible to suppose that she did not enjoy to the fullest the glorious pleasures my prick and balls pr
ocured her. She must consequently have endured the most real pains of unsatisfied desire, and, Eke the Spartan boy, have suffered agonies which were eating her living flesh whilst she smiled in apparent calmness on all. I dare say it was the recollection of these poignant sufferings which made all her words and actions towards me so cruel and spiteful. However, she had been well fucked and perhaps, when I had smoothed down Fanny and calmed the storm which threatened a catastrophe, we might so manage as to all events render Amy amiable. For if Fanny, as I fully expected she would, declared she would no longer be fucked by me, I determined I would not fuck Amy any more, and as Amy liked being well fucked so much, so very much, she might discover that any ill advised attempt to drive a man might result in a revolt, whereby her newly acquired kingdom over my prick might be lost.
Full of these thoughts tearing me I lay down, but could not sleep. Hour after hour passed away. Full daylight came after dawn, and with it, one by one, the numerous signs of life, the birds, insects, animals and men. But I heeded them little, all my thoughts were concentrated on what will Fanny say? And how shall I ever recover my position in her love and admiration? The devil take Amy and damn Sugdaya for her infamous plotting and scheming!
A good swear relieves a man when the cause for irritation is passed and gone, but alas! no amount of cursing will soften the expected pains of approaching doom. Else mine would have obviated the misery I expected, for I swore enough to blow all misery to the winds, had the misery been tangible and not yet for to come. Fanny and the Colonel were not expected to arrive until seven in the evening and Amy and the children were not to leave the Corbett’s until a little before that hour. I passed that most wretched day in writing letter after letter to Fanny trying to explain what had happened, in such a way as not to inculpate Amy any more than possible, but yet to exculpate myself.
Needless to say all my efforts were in vain, and each letter I wrote seemed worse than the former, and all were destroyed by me. Oh! dear readers, may you never, not one of you, have reason to suffer such torture as I endured. It would not have been so bad had I deliberately and of afore thought been unfaithful to Fanny. But to have been so trapped and betrayed into doing what I really had not meant to do, was a cause of the greatest mental anguish to me. Suppose I told Fanny the exact truth, was it likely she would believe me? Would she not also say and with a great show of justice, that I need not have gone on fucking Amy? Ah! she had no prick and balls to drive her as I had It would be difficult to understand, too, that in order to keep Amy in good humor, I had to go on fucking her: and yet I felt I really had no better card to play. I could not help it if I found fucking Amy truly delicious. I dare say a girl who is raped, rather enjoys the sensation, although in her heart she may feel the deadliest enmity against the man who rapes her, because it is done without her consent. I really could not prevent my prick standing and stiffly raging when it was near Amy’s cunt. A prick is like a gun. The enemy can take it and use it against its proper owner. It shoats just as straight and as hard for the one as for the other, and has no will in the matter at all. All that my prick saw in Fanny was a delicious and sweet cunt between her thighs—it saw exactly the same thing between the thighs of Amy and its one desire was to get into that one which was nearest. This is certainly not the case with most cunts. It was in Lizzie Wilson, but hers was by no means the one to give the rule. Look at Amy. Amy wanted to be tucked. Well, she had plenty of friends who would have been delighted to have fucked her, but she never hinted her desire to one of them. Look at Mabel. If anything she was worse and hotter than Amy. The reader will see in time what she did. My prick was always ready for Mabel’s cunt and, but for the most determined opposition, it would have got into it. Oh! let a woman understand this: “A standing prick has no conscience!”
Everything comes to an end and that horrible day came to an end too, but not until I had at last written a little note to Fanny, in which I begged her not to come over to see me, for a very particular reason, which I could tell her as soon as I could find an opportunity on the morrow. This note I took with me to Amy, at the Corbett’s, and went out into the garden together, Amy refusing to let Mabel accompany us.
“Well! you do look bad, Captain Devereaux. Are you so awfully afraid of Fanny then? You are as white as a ghost. ”
“I am not afraid of Fanny, Amy. Nothing she could say to me could be half so painful as what my conscience tells me. But the fact is, I could not sleep a wink when I got home this morning.”
“Ha! ha; ha! ha!” laughed Amy, as merrily and cheerfully as if I had told her something more than ordinarily pleasant and delightful. “Oh! I do like to hear that! What a fool you are, Captain Devereaux! I wonder you don’t put more value on yourself. Now if I were you I should say to Fanny, if she is at all cross, look here, Fanny! You can take me or leave me—it is all one to me. I can’t fuck any the more because I have two cunts instead of one to fuck. Only Amy will get all the more if you leave me.”
“That would be adding insult to injury, Amy.”
“Well! what of it? Is it not the truth?”
“You don’t consider the pain such speaking would give poor Fanny.”
“Pain! And pray did she consider what pain I suffered from her not even asking me would I like to be fucked by you when she was. Sisters should share. I only ask for my share. I don’t want to take you altogether away from Fanny, but I must be fucked as well as she.”
“Well, I should not be surprised if it all came to an end now.”
“Why?”
“Because I expect, when Fanny hears the news, she will go into one of her dreadful states of excitement and do or say something rash before your father; and, if he hears of what has happened he will certainly take steps to prevent any more of my fucking his daughters. He could, for instance, as easily get me sent to another station as I could get Lavie sent to Benares. Nobody need know why, but you and Fanny would have to find another beau, if fucking is all either of you wish for.”
This speech made Amy thoughtful. She had entirely lost sight of the possible effects a too brilliant triumph over Fanny might have.
“That is worth thinking about, Captain Devereaux.”
“It is, Amy, in all solemn earnest. Now will you do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
“Will you give this note to Fanny for me?”
“What have you said in it?”
“All I have said is to ask her not to come over to me tonight.”
“Have you told her what has happened?”
“No!”
Amy walked in silence, evidently thinking what she should do. I imagine she had intended to crow vigorously over Fanny, but my warning had made her begin to reconsider this. As we walked we approached the stable, and Amy, who had been twisting my note to Fanny between her fingers suddenly looked up.
“Oh! Here we are at the stable,” said she.
“Yes,” said I, reading her thoughts, “but, Amy, dear, I really could not do it now!”
“What nonsense!” she cried, reddening, “I never asked you either, but now, for saying that you shall.”
“I really can’t, Amy.”
“Bosh! come, Captain Devereaux, I wish to be fucked now, this instant. It may be my last chance, if so much depends upon Fanny, as you seem to think. I will not throwaway a chance. Come into the stable at once and do what you are bid.”
“I will go into the stable, Amy, but you will see I speak nothing but the truth when I tell you that I am not able to fuck you now.”
I went in.
“Now,” said Amy, “explain yourself.”
“Here is the best explanation possible,” said I, undoing my braces and letting down my trousers, “look, and see if you can get that into your cunt, Amy.”
Amy raised my shirt and saw me in a state that she had never contemplated as possible. My prick hung dead and n
erveless, my balls were loose in an elongated and relaxed bag, everything denoted the most marked fatigue.
“You are, foxing!” cried Amy angrily, stamping her foot. “Make it stiff at once! Do you hear me! Ah! Do! Captain Devereaux!” she continued in an imploring tone of voice. “Don’t be so unkind to me.”
I heard her with a mixed sentiment of amusement and pain.
I was amused at her thinking I was my prick’s master and able to make it stand or not, at my pleasure, and pained that I was really unable to comply with her wishes and fuck her, for I felt if I could gratify her now she would be in good humor, and more inclined to spare Fanny, and so soften down the announcement of her triumph.
“Amy dear! I would if I could. But the want or sleep and the painful anxiety about Fanny that I have been under all day, have killed me; but try if you can make it stiff yourself! I really am not foxing. I should very much like to fuck you, if I could. Here. Let us lie down in this grass, and while you try what you can do with your hands, I will feel your nice, soft cunt.” .
We lay down. Amy cuddled up to me, looking at times into my face with a keen glance as if to see whether I was deceiving her or not, whilst she handled my prick and my balls, in the most voluptuously exciting manner possible. It was of no use whatever I was in a state of mental and bodily prostration, and my prick remained as limp as ever, though my balls gradually grew up in a tighter bunch than they had been in before Amy’s gentle fingers titillated them.
After about ten minutes of these mutual caresses I withdrew my hand, wet with her frequent spendings, from between Amy’s lovely thighs, and said:
“I am afraid we must give up the idea of it, Amy. My prick is too dead. Too tired.”
“Too obstinate and too abominably selfish, you mean,” said Amy in great anger, “take that for the sulky beast you are,” and with these words addressed to my prick, she suddenly gave it a stinging slap with her hand, not only hurting it considerably, but making my poor balls throb with pain.
Erotic Classics II Page 167
