by G Scott Gray
Lydia feigned innocence but she was far from innocent. She was of marriageable age and was versed in the ways of love. Wickham knew it too and leered at her.
“Come, Miss Bennet, you know just as well as I do. You are very charming and pretty, Miss Bennet. You arouse my loins.”
“Yes,” said Lydia, talking in a matter of fact way now, “I think my loins are rather aroused too.”
“Come, then. Let us enjoy sweetness of love. After all I may be killed in battle.”
Of course, Mr Wickham had no intention of dying in battle and planned to desert as soon as he reached France and disguise himself as a French peasant, selling onions from village to village, drinking French wine and making love to French women, old and young.
“Indeed, Mr Wickham. It would be an act of great kindness on my part to let you make love to me before you leave to fight. It is something you will be able to take with you as you advance on the French infantry.”
Of course, Lydia intended to enjoy her act of great kindness to the utmost.
“Very well, Miss Bennet.”
“How should we proceed?” said Lydia. “Should we go slowly and cautiously?”
“Lift up your dress, take off your bloomers, lie down and part your legs,” he said crisply.
“Very well.”
She stood up and removed her linen undergarments. She lay down on a bed of dry pine needles and lifted her dress above her waist, by which time Wickham had removed his red jacket, his frilly shirt, his tight white trousers and his coarse undergarments. All he had left on were his leather boots, black and heavy.
Lydia’s eyes widened with surprise and pleasure when she saw his member, erect and pointing directly up. She had played and fumbled with farm hands before, but she had never seen a member quite so large and menacing. She ached for him to be inside her. She opened her legs for him, and he strode towards her purposefully.
He did not bother to indulge in acts of foreplay and neither did she want him to. He placed himself betwixt her legs and in one movement pushed his large manhood inside her, the head tickling her deep within her velvet walls. He loved her hard and fast, not bothering with any niceties. She didn’t mind and was glad that he was taking her roughly and forcefully.
It was not long before she was overwhelmed by a jolt of sheer ecstasy which built quickly and broke over her body like a wave. It faded slowly and he could tell from her expression that she had attained and passed the fullness of her bliss. He therefore thrust hard and purposefully with his hips, intending to spurt himself inside her. At the last moment however, she pushed him off and he withdrew himself from her. She had no wish to carry a child while unmarried.
For a moment Wickham looked disappointed, until she enveloped his rampant member with her lips and skillfully drew it in and out of her mouth. As she sucked, he would have agreed to marriage instantly, had she asked. She sucked him to a very quick, very strong climax, his hot essence going easily down her throat.
“Ah, Miss Bennet, that was exquisite.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself, Mr Wickham.”
“Come, we had better return to the cottage before our absence is noted.”
“Very well.”
They dressed and made themselves look as if they had merely taken a turn in Mr Bennet’s garden. They returned to the siting room and sat down without a word.
“Ah, Mr Wickham,” said Mrs Bennet, “I was about to make some chocolate. Would you like a cup?”
“Why thank you, Mrs Bennet, I rather think I would.”
Mrs Bennet retired to the kitchen to give the cook orders to prepare hot chocolate. When she returned the men were discussing the Napoleonic wars again.
“So, Mr Wickham,” said Mr Bennet, “when does your regiment leave for France?”
“At once,” he said. “I need to return to my quarters this evening. We take ship the day after tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” said Mrs Bennet and Lydia together.
“I fear so,” said Wickham. “If I do not, I will be arrested as a deserter and court martialled. And then I will probably be shot.”
“Well you did some very nice shooting yourself a little while ago,” said Lydia to herself, still relishing the taste of him in her mouth.
“So, I will ride to camp this very evening.”
“You did some very vigorous riding a couple of hours ago,” said Mrs Bennet to herself.
The afternoon proceeded in a much more subdued manner. Mr Wickham reluctantly took his leave. He shook hands with Mr Bennet and gave him a sly little wink. He bowed to each of the Bennet sisters in turn, and bowed especially low before Lydia with a twinkling smile. He said farewell to Mrs Bennet and thanked for everything, by which of course me meant the cup of chocolate, he explained to the others. As he took his leave he gave her hand a fond little squeeze.
And then he was gone.
The five Bennet sisters retired to their bed chambers and left Mr and Mrs Bennet alone.
“So now what do I do, Mr Bennet?” she said mournfully. “I had hoped Mr Wickham would be here for another few weeks while you recovered. And perhaps a little longer.”
“I understand, my dear,” he said sympathetically. “However, do not despair. For something will turn up. Or somebody. And you still have your wooden phallus, remember. Come, I’ll use it on you now if you wish.”
“Oh, Mr Bennet, you always know how to make me feel better.”
He took her hand and led her to their bed chamber…
And something did turn up. Or rather somebody turned up. A new tenant arrived at Netherfeild. His name was Mr Charles Bingley. He was very rich and very handsome. A ball was held to which the entire Bennet family was invited; Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet and their five daughters. In addition, Mr Bennet’s cousin, Mr Collins was invited. He was an odious little man but Mr Bennet knew that his family’s security depended on him as his estate was entailed to Mr Collins. As a result, Mr Collins was always treated with the utmost politeness, even though the entire family detested the man.
Although he was still on crutches, Mr Bennet decided to go to the ball. The physician had forbidden intimate relations, but he had said nothing about attending balls.
“Why, Mr Bennet,” said Mr Collins with a comically low bow, “how do you do?”
“We are well, thank you, Mr Collins.”
“I see you have brought your family.”
“Indeed, Mr Collins.”
Mr Collins bowed to each of them in turn.
“Mrs Bennet. Miss Jane, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, Miss Lydia.”
“Mr Collins,” they all said in unison with elaborate curtsies.
“Mr Collins, “said Mrs Bennet, “would you mind talking to our daughters while Mr Bennet and I get something to drink?”
“Of course not, Mrs Bennet,” said Mr Collins with another comical bow, “I would be most pleased to entertain your five charming daughters.”
Mr and Mrs Bennet went to the room where drinks were being served. Uncle Gardiner was at the front of the queue again and supplies were becoming depleted rapidly.
“Mr Collins is a most odious man, isn’t he?” said Mr Bennet.
“I cannot stomach the man, Mr Bennet,” replied his wife. “However, he may be of use to us in more ways than one.”
“I do not understand, Mrs Bennet.”
“Well, as we know your estate is entailed, which means of course that when you die…”
“Thank you, Mrs Bennet, I do appreciate it when you bring up the subject of my impending death.”
“You’re most welcome, Mr Bennet,” said his good lady.
“Anyway, when you die, your estate will pass to Mr Collins. Which means that your daughters and I will have no means of support. Unless of course, one of my daughters marries him and thereby secures our fortune.”
“I see,” said Mr Bennet. “So, we need to ensure that he is attracted to one of our daughters.”
“Precisely, Mr Bennet.”
&n
bsp; “And how do we attain this objective?”
“Well, I could lure him upstairs this evening and take him into one of the many bed chambers. Once there I would seduce him and ensure that he make love to me. That way I would demonstrate the passion of the Bennet women. He would be certain to want to marry one of our daughter then. It’s ingenious don’t you think?”
“Most ingenious, Mrs Bennet.”
“Furthermore, Mr Bennet, we could kill two birds with one stone as it were.”
“Whatever do you mean, my dear?” said Mr Bennet.
“Well, as you are unable to fulfil your husbandly duties at present, then he could go in your stead so to speak and ensure that your wife is satisfied in the way she is entitled as a married woman, a passionate married woman.”
“I see,” said Mr Bennet. “So, not only would you ensure the family’s financial position is secure (after my death of course) but you would also receive pleasure from Mr Collins in lieu of my intimate attentions.”
“Yes,” said Mrs Bennet. “Twice with any luck.”
They waited patiently while Uncle Gardiner took several large drinks. They finally reached the front of the queue and ordered two small glasses of wine. They returned to Mr Collins and their five daughters.
“So, daughters,” said Mrs Bennet, “have you found Mr Collins’ conversation interesting, informative and stimulating?”
“Oh yes, mother,” said Lizzy. “Mr Collins was telling us that the railway system currently being laid has different gauges depending on which type of railway carriage is used. We found it most stimulating.”
“That sounds most interesting, Lizzy,” said Mr Bennet.
“Indeed,” said Mrs Bennet. “And speaking of stimulating, Mr Collins, would you like to accompany me upstairs and tell me about the furnishings and the works of art on the walls.”
“It will be my pleasure, Mrs Bennet.”
“Mine too with a little luck,” whispered Mrs Bennet to her husband.
Mr Collins took Mrs Bennet by the arm and led her up the grand staircase. They walked down a corridor with fine wooden panels.
“The wood panelling is very fine, don’t you think, Mrs Bennet? It is from Jacobean times if I’m any judge of wood.”
“I’m a pretty good judge of wood myself,” said Mrs Bennet under her breath.
“And do you see the excellent workmanship on this oak door?” he said pointing out the decoration on a bed chamber door. “It’s very fine indeed, don’t you think?”
“Very fine, Mr Collins,” said Mrs Bennet. “And do you think the workmanship in the bed chamber is as fine?”
“I’m quite sure it is, Mrs Bennet.”
“Shall we go inside and see for ourselves?”
“Is that quite proper, Mrs Bennet?” he said doubtfully.
“Oh, come now, Mr Collins. Are you afraid to be bold? Are you a man or a mouse?”
Mrs Bennet knew the answer very well; if she were to put a piece of cheese on the floor in front of him now, Mr Collins would immediately get down and start to nibble it.
“Well, I suppose if it were only for a minute or two.”
Mrs Bennet slowly turned the handle and they went into the bed chamber.
As it transpired, it did only take a minute or two. Mrs Bennet took him by the hand and led him to the fine walnut four poster bed. She sat on the bed and looked at Mr Collins seductively. With her eyes she beckoned him to join her. When he sat on the bed next to her, she put her hand on his lap and, as if it were an accident, touched his member. He looked at her aghast. She smiled at him and felt his manhood become firm. She took his hand and placed it on her large, luscious breast.
They did not speak but Mrs Bennet used her whiles upon him and pretty soon, both were naked on the bed. Mrs Bennet opened her legs wide and to her satisfaction Mr Collins became fully erect. He climbed atop her and eased himself inside her.
Two minutes later it was over.
They quickly dressed and went downstairs together.
Mr Collins felt very pleased. Not only had he, in his own mind, given Mrs Bennet great pleasure and satisfaction, but she had given his manhood great pleasure with the tight juiciness of her womanly mystery. Not only, he thought to himself, would one of her five daughters promise to be a very pleasing wife in the bed chamber, but he would prove to be a very satisfying husband to her, whichever of the daughters it might be.
Mrs Bennet on the other hand was frustrated and concerned. Frustrated that her time with Mr Collins had been too brief to give her any satisfaction whatsoever. Concerned because she knew that if he married one of her daughters, she would have a life in the bed chamber which was dull, pallid and without fulfilment.
However, she consoled herself with the thought that she had pleased him sufficiently (albeit quickly) to make her daughters an attractive proposition, if his loud cries of “oh, yes, Mrs B. Oh God, Mrs B that is heavenly”. At least, she thought to herself, she had probably loved him well enough to have secured the family’s fortunes.
They returned to Mr Bennet and the five Bennet sisters.
“Thank you, Mrs Bennet,” said Mr Collins., “that was most interesting. The wood panels and furnishings I mean.
“Thank you, Mr Collins,” said Mrs Bennet, “I had a pleasant time also.”
“If you will all excuse me,” he went on, “I am going to the other room for some refreshment. It’s made me rather thirsty, looking at the furnishings and panels.”
Mr Collins left them. Mr Bennet took his wife to one side.
“Well?” he said. “Did everything so to plan? Was everything satisfactory?”
“It went to plan,” said Mrs Bennet. “But it was far from satisfactory.”
“I don’t understand. Why, what happened?”
“Very little. I’ve danced minuets slower than that. Two minutes it took him, and that includes the foreplay. And he wasn’t exactly impressive, either in length or in girth.”
“You mean…?”
Mrs Bennet wiggled her little finger sadly.
“I’m afraid so,” he said.
“Oh. I’m sorry, my dear,” said Mr Bennet. “But on the other hand, you did say things went to plan?”
“Oh yes. If he thinks our daughters will be as pleasing in the bed chamber as I was then he is sure to propose to one of them very soon. And then at least our financial worries will be over. Well, mine will be, for you will be dead when the estate passes to Mr and Mrs Collins.”
“Thank you once again, my dear,” said Mr Bennet, “for bringing up my imminent death.”
“You’re most welcome. Now, I need a drink. I’m feeling very frustrated.”
“I’m sorry, my dear. And I’m sorry there is nothing I can do about it, for you know what the physician said.”
“Yes,” said Mrs Bennet. “Though perhaps we will meet somebody here who can assist me.”
At that moment their host entered the hall. Mr Charles Bingley was a handsome looking man, elegantly dressed and with an air of wealth and comfort. He sauntered over to their little group.
“Mr and Mrs Bennet if I’m not mistaken?” he said in a pleasant tone.
“Yes,” said Mr Bennet.
“And your five charming daughters, I assume? I am Mr Charles Bingley. I am the new tenant of Netherfield.”
He gave them a gracious bow and the Bennet women curtsied in return.
“Indeed, Mr Bingley,” said Mr Bennet. “This is Jane, the eldest, Lizzy, Mary, Catherine and Lydia.”
“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said.
He was joined by another man.
“Allow me to introduce my friend Mr Darcy.”
Mr Darcy bowed and the Bennet women curtsied in return.
“Miss Jane, would you give me the pleasure of this dance?” said Charles.
Mr Bingley and Jane whirled away in an elegant minuet.
“Well,” said Mrs Bennet to her husband, “if Mr Bingley takes a liking to Jane then she may be spared a m
arried life with Mr Collins if he favoured her the most of all our daughters.”
“To be honest with you, my dear,” he said. “I think Mr Collins is likely to favour Lizzy. He has been watching her ever since you came downstairs. I think it is because she resembles you the most, physically I mean. I imagine that Mr Collins is thinking that if he and Lizzy marry, she will be a very pleasing wife in the bed chamber.”
“Poor Lizzy,” said Mrs Bennet.
Mr Darcy and the Bennet family indulged in some rather stilted conversation.
“Ah,” said Darcy with some relief, “here is my friend.”
The little party was joined by a couple, a man and a woman. Both were in their early twenties and both were striking in their looks. The man was tall and handsome, with dark brooding looks to match his dark hair. The woman very beautiful with auburn hair and large brown eyes.
“May I introduce Mr and Mrs Rogers,” said Darcy.
There was further bowing and curtseying.
“Are you here on business or pleasure, Mr Rogers?” said Mr Bennet.
“Oh, pleasure, assuredly pleasure,” replied Mr Rogers. “My wife and I have spent the last few months in London and our appetites are a little dulled. We are seeking some fresh entertainments.”
“My husband and I have rather refined and unusual tastes,” added Mrs Rogers.
“Oh really?” said Mrs Bennet.
“Yes,” added Mr Rogers. “I think our friend Darcy doesn’t always approve of our…er…activities.”
Darcy smiled.
“You make me sound like an old puritan.”
Mr Rogers asked Mrs Bennet to dance and Mr Bennet reciprocated by asking Mrs Rogers. He led her into an odd little dance on his crutches and she was gracious enough not to laugh or complain.
“So, Mr Rogers,” said Mrs Bennet as they enjoyed a stately minuet, “what unusual tastes do you and your wife indulge in?”
“In the bed chamber, Mrs Bennet. We enjoy certain activities which are frowned upon in certain social circles.”
“You sound indecent, sir. Please tell me more.”
“My wife enjoys the company of women. In particular older women.”
“Goodness. So, your wife enjoys conversations with other women? That doesn’t sound too scandalous.”
