Fifty Shades of Victorian Desire

by Davina Charleston

  Seated by my side, and with my hand in hers, or more likely playing with the silky hair which was now beginning to overshadow her sweet cunt, we would talk of such amorous subjects, as Jupiter’s assumption of the form of a bull in order that he might obtain possession of Europa. She was curious to know whether it was as a bull that he ravished her? ‘For’ she said, ‘Susan and I were looking this morning through a window in one of the out houses into the back yard, and we saw the bull mounting several cows, and when I watched his long red thing pushed up into their bellies it made my cunt itch for it too.’

  I laughed and replied: ‘The Latin Poets do not inform us on the subject, but there is an account of how Pasiphae, the wife of the Minos, one of her grandsons was enabled, by means of an ingenious support contained by Doedalus, to sustain the weight and receive into her wanton cunt the pizzle of a famous white bull, given by Neptune to her husband, and that she afterwards gave birth to a monster, half man, half bull, which was called the Minotaur.

  I also told her how Jupiter gained access to the arms of Leda in the shape of a swan and enjoyed her in that guise, so that she afterwards brought for the eyes and that many ancient statues and pictures representing this curious fucking scene had been preserved, showing the amorous swan fluttering in the arms of a naked woman, his bill snatching kisses or thrust under her arm, his webbed feet separating her legs, and his hinder parts pressed in between her thighs and his red tool darting into her moist and open cunt. Oh Freddy! it must be very nice to be fucked by a swan, to hold the dear white fellow in one’s arms and feel his slippery tool playing in one’s cunt.’

  During this conversation she would manage to get my trousers unbuttoned down the front, and soon her kind efforts would be repaid by my prick showing signs of strong erection, bobbing to her kisses and standing up boldly amid her encircling fingers.

  Then she would say: ‘Now Freddy, you have been working too hard of late. Sit perfectly still, I will do it all myself,’ and rising up she would place herself astride on my lap, and nestling the head of my prick between the warm lips of her cunt would press slowly down, saying: ‘Now – dont stir – keep your hands on my bottom as I move up and down, and give me a pinch if you wish to hurry me.’

  Then as she worked her body up and down, wriggling her arse and twisting from side, she would keep on kissing me and muttering: ‘Good boy, your dear prick — fills my cunt so nicely — oh! isn’t that good?’ Then pressing down and rubbing her bottom on my thighs, she would stoop and clutch my balls with her hand, saying: Good bollocks – now they swell – shoot in your spunk – Oh – there – I feel it – pinch my arse – fuck – fuck -fuck.’

  On another occasion, we were walking by the cottage of one of my Aunt’s labourers named Madden. He was standing at the door with his baby in his arms and saluted us as we passed.

  He was a fine burly-looking fellow, the very picture of manly strength and good temper. I perceived that Clara was immediately struck with the unusually large protuberance that swelled out between his legs. Her eyes were fastened on it as she said: ‘Will you excuse me for a few moments, Freddy. I want to go and play with Madden’s baby.’

  I laughed for I knew it was a baby without legs or arms, and with hair at its tail that she was thinking of.

  ‘Go,’ I said, ‘and enjoy yourself with his baby as long as you like. I will walk about until you come out.’

  Going up to the cottage door she said: ‘What a fine baby you have, Madden. How is it you are acting as nurse?’

  ‘His mother has gone to the village to make some purchases, and she asked me to mind him until she returned.’

  If you are as good a nurse as you are a gardener, the child will be well cared for. Let me hold him for a moment.’

  Thankee, Miss, the wee chap resembles his mother, and I like him for her sake?’

  ‘I think he takes more after you, for he has your good humoured smile and roguish eye,’ and she gave him a wicked glance, ‘but he seems sleepy now, where is his cot?’

  ‘Come in, Miss, and I will show you.’

  She followed him into the inner room, and having placed the baby in his little cot threw off her hat and her neck-kerchief as the day was very warm. Then she leaned over the child and began to hum a time to make him go to sleep.

  Madden remained standing by her side, looking down on her graceful figure as she stooped over the cot. She was conscious of his admiration, and to increase the effect she slowly stirred her bottom from side to side so as to display its voluptuous curves to more advantage. The man’s lustful nature warmed at the sight. He came a step nearer – then bent forward to settle the baby’s pillow, and as if to steady himself placed his hand gently on Clara’s beautiful bottom. To his great delight he perceived no shrinking from his hand, it felt very soft indeed, but met his touch with a fleshy firmness that seemed to invite him to further advances; so he muttered: ‘It was very good of you, dear Miss Clara, to come in here to put baby into his cot.’

  ‘I always wish to be kind to those whom I like; and you are one of my special favourites, Madden.’

  ‘Dear Miss Clara, I would do anything to please you,’ and he pressed up against her, and spreading his fingers moved them about over her bottom.

  She evidently did not object to this little innocent familiarity, for she only stooped more over the child and stirred her bottom in time with the tune she was humming.

  He gently pressed one soft cheek, then he moved to the other. Then passing his fingers down the indentation between those luxurious prominences he reached what he knew was the lower end of her sweet little slit. He could hardly believe it possible, but surely he felt it pressing out a little and the thighs getting gradually more open. His lust was now thoroughly aroused, and he scarcely knew what he was doing as he said: ‘Oh, dear Miss Clara, my heart burns for you. What a lovely young lady you are!’ And stooping suddenly he ran his hand up between her thighs and seized her moist and gaping cunt.

  ‘Oh Madden! What do you mean? You must not put your hand up my clothes, you must not uncover me.’

  ‘Dear Miss, stay as you are,’ and he put one hand on her back to keep her down, and with the other directed the swollen head of his enormous prick to her eager and longing cunt.

  ‘Oh stop, stop, I beg of you. What do you want to do?’

  ‘To fuck you, Miss Clara – to get my prick into your sweet cunt and fuck you, there, it has got in, let me push it all the way up.’ And shoving his hands under her clothes on each side he grasped her round the loins, and began working his great prick with such vigour that his hairy belly smacked against her smooth bottom and made her whole body vibrate with the violence of his shocks.

  ‘Oh Madden, you are a terrible man, and your prick is enormous. Yes, I like it now – push – fuck – yes, fuck away, as hard as you please. – Oh! that’s grand! Hold me up while you push – I’m coming too – now – fuck – fuck – fuck.’

  I had crept up to the open window and watched the foregoing scene with much interest and amusement, but just at this moment, to my horror as well as theirs, the door of the room suddenly burst open and a shrill voice cried: ‘Hollo, Madden! what are you doing? Who is that impudent slut you have brought into my bedroom as soon as my back was turned? Get out, you strumpet.’

  This was dreadful, so I rushed to the front door and bounding into the room caught Mrs Madden by the shoulders, and pulling her back, said: ‘Don’t speak that way to Miss Alcock. She is not to blame, for she only came in to see your fine handsome baby.’ That softened her a little. ‘And I suppose Madden must have taken a drop too much and mistook her for your charming self; so cool down I pray you. And after all, what great harm has Madden done you? You have him as often as you like, and it is very selfish to keep such a fine man all to yourself. Give him liberty to enjoy himself, and I am sure he won’t care how many lovers are attracted by your own undoubted charms. Madden, would you mind a body kissing your wife, if it was done openly and with your consent?’ And pl
acing my arm round her I drew her beside me on the bed.

  All this time, poor Clara having shaken down her tumbled skirts sat on a chair sobbing with her face covered by her hands. Madden stood at her side looking very foolish but making some awkward attempts to soothe her. But on hearing my proposal to kiss his wife, he at once brightened up and said: ‘Not in the least, Master Freddy, you may kiss her as much as you like, on the face or any where else that you wish, so far as I am concerned.’

  On this, I placed my hands on each side of her pretty face and tried to turn it up for a kiss. She said nothing, but seemed determined not to let me. Madden, however, winked at me to persevere; then he said in a louder and more commanding tone: ‘Margery, don’t be a fool, let Master Freddy kiss you. It is the only amend you can make for your dreadful abuse of this dear young lady who was not to blame at all.’

  Mrs Madden now began to show signs of yielding, and allowed me to kiss her cherry lips and then put my hand on her full and exuberant bubbies. I pressed on, still encouraged by the approving looks of her husband, and leaning hard against her gradually forced her back on the bed. I pushed my knee in between hers, but when I attempted to pull up her petticoats, she suddenly squealed out and said: ‘Madden, do you mean to say, you are going to allow this young gentleman to make free with your wife here in your very presence and on your own bed too – Fie Sir – I wont let you – take your hand.’

  ‘Don’t mind her, Master Freddy, you have better my full consent. Pull up her coats and dont heed her squalls.’

  Considering that Madden knew his wife better than we did, I tugged away, and soon had a pair of great fleshy thighs laid bare and, in spite of her struggles and outcries, a fine bushy tuft of dark brown hair that completely covered the temple of love.

  Madden laughed: ‘Bravo, Master Freddy, you have got to the right place at last; get into it now and take possession, and this dear young lady will repay me by letting me stroke her own sweet pussy once again.’

  Clara smiled as he again put his immense prick in her hand and groped his way to her well-moistened cunt.

  Meanwhile I had got my own prick out, and as Mrs Madden began to understand that, under the circumstances, it was wiser not to prolong her opposition too far, I succeeded in pushing in between her thighs and directing its head to the luscious opening of her cunt. A sudden push introduced it without difficulty, and I commenced to fuck her with a firm but gentle stroke.

  As soon as her husband observed this, he felt that, having advanced so far, a bold finish would be best. So without saying a word he took up Clara in his arms, carried her to the bed, and placed her by his wife.

  Then, lifting her clothes, with one plunge drove his prick up to the root into her cunt and said: ‘Now, Master Freddy, let us jog together. How do you like Margery’s cunt? She was a maid, at least she said so, when I first fucked her before our marriage, about this time last year, and you are the first besides myself that has tried her since. Is not that the truth Margery?’

  ‘Mind your fucking and don’t be asking silly questions.’

  ‘Anyway, Master Freddy, I trust she is giving you satisfaction.’

  ‘Your wife – has a splendid cunt, Madden – and you have taught her well – how to site it – for she fucks like a hero – You are a fine and very sensible woman, Margery and your husband is a brave fellow too – Do I fuck to your liking?’ I gasped out between my strokes.

  ‘Why yes, Master Freddy. I don’t fault your fucking, but it does seem queer to be fucked this way before one’s husband; but as he is content and you have got in your prick, fuck away as hard as you like – but look at Ned – how he wags his bottom! and stretching out her hand she felt her husband’s prick as it plunged in and out of Clara’s cunt, and asked her: ‘Do you like how Ned fucks you, Miss Clara? You have a dear little cunt; she added as she felt her clitoris and the thick pouting lips which clung round her husband’s tool. I hope Ned is filling it with pleasure and delight.’

  ‘Thanks, dear Mrs Madden – you are really kind – your husband has a grand affair – it feels delicious in my cunt – fuck me – oh Ned! fuck me – fuck me, hard!’ and Clara wagged her beautiful arse with wanton energy and effect.

  Meanwhile, Margery clasped me in her arms, crying: ‘Fuck me, fuck me, Freddy dear,’ and pressed up her quivering cunt to receive the spunk I was darting into her salacious womb.

  Before I left I slipped a few guineas into Margery’s fist. Her face glowed when she saw the coins. She thanked me, and turning to Clara, entreated her to forgive the foolish words she had used in anger, and before she was aware to whom she was speaking, and she told her to come again as often as she liked, and that she might have the use of Ned’s article whenever she felt inclined; then looking towards me, with a rosy blush she added: ‘You will be welcome too.’

  I kissed her and shook hands with Madden, commending him for his liberality and good sense, and wished them good bye.

  I am pretty certain you will all agree that both Madden and his wife acted wisely and judiciously in the matter.

  He was really an excellent husband, and valued his wife at a high rate, and treated her with the greatest affection and respect; but like many another her husband was led astray by the force of strong temptation, and discovered in the act. This seemed a great misfortune, but swung to their mutual forbearance and good sense, it led to the happiest results.

  Henceforth they each conceded absolute freedom to the other, and thus being no longer galled and irritated by restraining bonds they were drawn really closer to one another, and having nothing to conceal there was no longer room for bitter jealousy nor foolish recrimination. As a matter of fact, I have never known a happier or more prosperous couple.

  I used to visit them occasionally, and often enjoyed the pleasant embraces of sweet Margery before her husband, who generally helped with his own hand and followed me by plunging his prick into his wife’s prepared and highly excited cunt.

  They have now a flourishing progeny, and one curly headed urchin takes so much after me that Madden declares there can be no mistake as to his father. Be that as it may I have accepted the responsibility and have invested a sum the interest of which his parents receive for his education and benefit.

  Extract from

  A NIGHT IN A MOORISH HAREM

  ABDALLAH PASCHA’S SERAGLIO

  HER BRITISH MAJESTY’S SHIP Antler, of which I was in command, lay becalmed one afternoon off the coast of Morocco. I did not allow the steam to be raised for I knew the evening breeze would soon make toward the land.

  Retiring to my cabin I threw myself upon the sofa. I could not sleep for my thoughts kept wandering back to the beautiful women of London and the favours which some of them had granted me when last on shore.

  Months had elapsed since then and months more would elapse before I could again hope to quench, in the lap of beauty, the hot desire which now coursed through my veins and distended my genitals.

  To divert my mind from thoughts at present so imperative I resolved to take a bath. Beneath the stern windows which lightened my cabin lay a boat, into which I got by sliding down a rope which held it to the ship. Then I undressed and plunged into the cool waves. After bathing I redressed, and, reclining in the boat, fell asleep. When I awoke it was dark and I was floating along near the shore. The ship was miles away.

  The rope which held the boat must have slipped when the breeze sprang up, and the people on the ship being busy getting underway had not noticed me. I had no oars and dared not use the sails for fear the Moorish vessels in sight would discover me. I drifted towards a large building which was the only one to be seen; it rose from the rocks near the water’s edge. The approach to the place on which it stood seemed to be from the land side, and all the windows which I could see were high above the ground.

  The keel of my boat soon grated on the sand and I hastened to pull it among the rocks for concealment, for it was quite possible I might be seized if discovered and sold into slavery.
My plan was to wait for the land breeze just before dawn and escape to sea. At this moment I heard a whispered call from above. I looked up and saw two ladies looking down on me from the high windows above, and behind these two were gathered several others whom I could just see in the gloom.

  ‘We have been watching you,’ said the lady, ‘and will try to assist you. Wait where you are.’

  She spoke in French, which is the common medium of communication among the different nations inhabiting the shores of the Mediterranean, and which had become familiar to me. I now thought this isolated building was a seraglio and I resolved to trust the ladies, who would run even more risk than myself in case of discovery.

  After waiting some time, a rope of shawls was let down from the window and the same voice bid me climb. My discipline when a midshipman made this easy for me to do; I rose hand over hand and safely reached the window through which I was assisted by the ladies into the perfumed air of an elegant apartment richly furnished and elegantly lighted.

  My first duty was to kiss the fair hands which had aided me, and then I explained the accident which had brought me among them and the plan I had formed for escape before dawn. I then gave my name and rank.

  While doing this I had an opportunity to observe the ladies; there were nine of them and any one of them would have been remarked for her beauty. Each one of them differed from all the others in the style of her charms: some were large and some were small; some were slender and some plump, some blonde and some brunette, but all were bewitchingly beautiful. Each, too, was the most lovely type of a different nationality, for war and shipwrecks and piracy enable the Moorish Pashas to choose their darlings from under all the flags that float on the Mediterranean.

  A lady whom they called Inez and whom, therefore, I took to be a Spaniard, answered me by bidding me in the name of all of them the warmest welcome.

  ‘You are,’ she said, ‘in the seraglio of Abdallah, the Pasha of this district, who is not expected until tomorrow, and who will never be the wiser if his ladies seize so rare an opportunity to entertain a gentleman during his absence.’ She added, ‘We have no secrets or jealousy between ourselves,’ smiling very significantly.