Darcy and Lizzy's Sexy Adventures

by G Scott Gray

“What sort of acts?” said Mr Bennet hopefully.

  “I suppose your wife gives you oral stimulation from time to time?”

  “What?” said Mrs Bennet.

  “Blow job, my dear,” said Mr Bennet.

  “Oh, yes, we do that,” said Mrs Bennet. “Mr Bennet likes it. So do I.”

  “There,” said Mr Rogers. “I’m sure that would be harmless enough.”

  “I’m willing to try if Mr Bennet is,” said his wife.

  The speed with which Mr Bennet took off his breeches and linen undergarments indicated that Mr Bennet was willing to try it too.”

  In less than a minute he was naked also, his member fully erect and eager for the attentions of his wife’s mouth. Mr and Mrs Rogers looked at him and nodded in agreement that his manhood was pleasing in size, smoothness and hardness.

  “Shall we make this a little more interesting?” said Mr Rogers.

  “How?” said Mr Bennet.

  “I’ve had your wife, so perhaps my wife should now please you. Or, to make it even more interesting we could blindfold you so that you don’t know which of them it is. You would feel the mouth of one of them without knowing whose it is.”

  “That sounds amusing,” said Mrs Rogers.

  Mr Bennet readily agreed. He handed his cravat to his wife and asked her to blindfold him. Then he waited breathlessly for the touch of either her or Mrs Rogers. He waited patiently for a moment and then heard somebody kneel in front of him.

  Then he felt a soft mouth envelop his manhood. A pair of lips drew the head in, sucking it lightly while a tongue wound itself around the shaft and licked the entire length. He knew the touch of his wife’s mouth and tongue very well and this felt different. He was sure it was Mrs Rogers and was happy that it was so. The fact that it was another woman, he thought, added a frisson of excitement.

  Mr Rogers is a lucky man he thought to himself, for she was most expert in giving him pleasure, up and down the shaft of his manhood and also his tight orbs of love beneath, teasing them with her mouth and tickling them with her fingers.

  The first stirrings of ejaculation began inside. He surrendered to it completely and moved his hips back and forth a little to achieve greater penetration. All at once he felt himself pass the point from which there is no return.

  “Oh, God, don’t stop,” he breathed. “You’re going to make me finish. Make me finish in your mouth. Oh, that is exquisite.”

  He was unable to say anything else but could only gasp and moan as the approach of his climax became more urgent and intense. He spurted a great quantity of his essence and for a moment felt his legs buckle in sheer bliss. Once he had fully emptied his aching balls he relaxed, a feeling of great contentment running through him.

  “May I take off the blindfold now?” he said.

  “Of course,” said Mrs Rogers. It was odd, thought Mr Bennet; it sounded as though she were a few, yards away, not kneeling in front of him.

  He took off the blindfold and to his surprise it was Mr Rogers kneeling in front of him. There was no mistake, his seed was dripping from his lips and chin.

  “You, Mr Rogers?” he said.

  “Yes. I trust you don’t mind?”

  Mr Bennet thought about it for a moment. He smiled. He didn’t mind at all. After all, he told himself, what did it matter? It had been excellent and that was all that mattered. Indeed, secretly he rather liked the notion that he had been pleasured by another man, even though he would always enjoy making love to his wife. It was simply an act that gave him pleasure, that was all.

  “I know it’s a felony in England,” said Mr Rogers, “but we don’t intend to make it public knowledge.”

  “Perhaps there will come a time,” said Mr Bennet wistfully, “when such an act between two men it will not only be permitted by law but will be accepted by society, celebrated even.”

  “That’s well said, Mr Bennet,” said Mr Rogers, “for we are all different and what business is it of anybody’s what we do in the privacy of our homes. Or in this case in one of the many bed chambers in Mr Bingley’s enormous house.”

  The four of them dressed and tidied themselves up before leaving the bed chamber and going down the great staircase to join the other guests. In a little drawing room near the ballroom, Mr Collins was entertaining the five Bennet sisters.

  “Ah, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, Mr Rogers, Mrs Rogers. I trust you had a pleasant time observing the tapestries and artwork upstairs. Did you see anything you particularly liked?”

  “One or two things,” said Mr Rogers with a secret grin at Mr and Mrs Bennet.

  “Splendid,” said Mr Collins. “In the mean time I have been entertaining your daughters. We have had a most interesting and enlightening conversation about animal husbandry in the farming community of Hertfordshire. It was most enlightening, wasn’t it, Lizzy?”

  “Hum?” said Lizzy. “Oh. Animal husbandry in the farming community of Hertfordshire. Yes. Most interesting.”

  Charles Bingley and Mr Darcy sauntered over and asked if they were enjoying the ball.

  “We had had a very agreeable time haven’t we, Mr Bennet?” said Mrs Bennet.

  “Most agreeable,” agreed Mr Bennet.

  “And you Mr Rogers?” said Darcy. “Have you and your wife had an agreeable evening?”

  “Very agreeable indeed,” said Mr Rogers.

  “By the way,” said Darcy, “how long are you intending to stay before you return to your home in London?”

  “Well we were intending to return in a day or two…”

  Mr Rogers saw Mrs Bennet’s face fall.

  “…however,” he went on, “we have made some firm friends tonight and do not intend to return to London for around six weeks.”

  “At least,” said Mrs Rogers.

  “That’s excellent news,” said Mr Bennet.

  “Excellent,” concurred Mrs Bennet.

  “And I believe,” went on Mr Bennet, “that there is a cottage to let if you are seeking accommodation. It is the perfect size for a married couple who wish to invite one or two guests from time to time.”

  “Why that sounds perfect,” said Mr Rogers.

  “Not only that,” said Mr Bennet, “but it’s very close to our own cottage, so we’ll be able to visit you if you wish.”

  “Splendid,” said Mrs Rogers.

  “Marvellous,” said Mr Rogers.

  “Wonderful,” said Mrs Bennet.

  HOT FUN WITH OTHER COUPLES IN THE COACH PARK

  Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy lay in bed on a beautiful summer’s morning. It was a luxurious four poster bed with rich, heavy drapes, a soft mattress of the finest goose down, and sheets made from the very best Egyptian cotton with as high a thread count as Mr Darcy’s substantial income could afford.

  It was also a bed which had very recently been pounded heavily. For Mr Darcy and his wife had made love that morning. They had made love with great passion as well as great tenderness for over an hour. Both were now utterly spent and lay facing each other, touching each other’s bodies softly from time to time and speaking words of love and affection.

  “Mr Darcy,” said Lizzy, “how you maintain your erection for so long is beyond me.”

  “Mrs Darcy,” he said, “it is hard.”

  Lizzy raised her eyebrows comically.

  “Well, it’s not hard obviously,” he went on with a glance down at his drooping member, “not now at least. What I mean is, it’s difficult. Sometimes, I have to think of other things to prevent myself from reaching past that point from which there is no return. Why sometimes I think of the latest news concerning our fat King George.”

  Lizzy pouted delightfully.

  “You mean you think of things other than myself when you make love to me?”

  “Of course not, Lizzy,” he said. “I jest. You are the finest wife a man could hope for, both in and out of the bed chamber. And believe me, when we are engaged in certain activities in the bed chamber, I think of nothing else but you. Your beautiful face.�
��

  “Indeed?” she said coyly.

  “Oh yes,” he said. “your deep, dark eyes.”

  He looked into her eyes.

  “Your lustrous hair.”

  He looked up a little and softly stroked her hair.

  “Your full lips.”

  He kissed her sweetly on the mouth.

  “Your smooth white throat.”

  He kissed her neck.

  “Your plump, yet firm breasts.”

  He took one of her breasts in his hand and sucked gently on the nipple.

  Then he pulled back the sheets to reveal her beautiful naked body.

  “And the exquisite secret womanly place betwixt your legs. I simply cannot resist you, my love.”

  He ran a finger down her secret place, still wet and raw from their passionate love making, from the little stretch of skin above her bottom to the delicate rose bud of flesh beneath the pink hood. As always, his touch made her body shiver and tingle a little.

  “Will you always feel that way about me, Fitzwilliam?” she said.

  “Of course. Lizzy. Why do you ask such a question?”

  “Nothing. Only sometimes I speak to my sister about matters of the heart and what happens between a man and his wife in the bed chamber.”

  “I assume you mean Lydia?” he said with an indulgent smile.

  “Yes. She tells me things that she and Wickham do in order to add a little spice to their marriage.”

  Yes, I’m sure she does, said Darcy to himself, starting to feel a little aroused again.

  “She’s told me all kinds of things,” continued Lizzy. “She’s told me about the marital devices she uses - on herself and on Mr Wickham. She’s told me how she’s invited other people into the bed chamber to share intimate relations - both male and female. The latest thing she told me of was something called ‘dogging’.”

  “Dogging?” said Darcy. “what on earth is dogging?”

  “Well, from what I understand, it means that people take their carriages to somewhere secluded and then indulge in fornication.”

  “Really?” said Darcy. “How…er…does it work exactly?”

  “According to Lydia, one can go alone or with one’s spouse to a secret clearing in The Dark Wood - you know, that little woodland beside the main road to Derby. Then, in the carriage one begins intimate relations with ones’ spouse. If you wish other people to observe, then you light a lantern and hang it outside. People then come and watch and at the same time pleasure themselves. If you wish for a person to join in, then you simply open the carriage door.”

  “Goodness,” said Darcy.

  “I don’t think there is much goodness taking place at these meetings,” said Lizzy.

  “And Lydia told you all about this?”

  “Yes. She said it’s becoming quite a popular past time. Not just with wealthy landowners either. Sometimes there are kitchen maids present and horny young farm hands too. Sometimes as many as twelve people will be present.”

  “I see,” said Darcy. “And what do you think of it, Lizzy?”

  She paused.

  “I find it rather shameful, Fitzwilliam. Don’t you?”

  There was just enough hesitation in her response for him to think that maybe she could be persuaded to join him in their carriage in a little trip to The Dark Wood one evening.

  He was definitely aroused now. He took her little hand and put it on his manhood. She gave a little gasp, half with delight and half with feigned surprise.

  “Why, Mr Darcy, your manhood appears to have become erect once more. Is it all this talk of dogging?”

  It was partly that, but he didn’t want to admit that to his wife. Not now anyway…

  “It’s you, Lizzy,” he said. “Your naked body arouses me so.”

  “Indeed, sir?” she said with a mocking smile. “then you would like to indulge in relations?”

  “Yes,” he said, “and with some force.”

  He flipped her over onto her stomach. She raised herself onto all fours and with frank desire, which he loved, she raised her bottom in the air and gave it a little wiggle. Darcy placed a finger on the soft, pink lips of love. She was very wet already and would need no further encouragement.

  Accordingly, he got behind her and shuffled up close. He grasped her pale, firm buttocks in his hands and moved his hips forward powerfully so that his big, hard member entered fully into her soft, warm womanhood with one easy movement. He rocked back and forth hard and fast and made her cry out with the sheer pleasure of love and lust combined. Even though they had already made love that morning, it did not take long, and even as Lizzy felt her moment of climax spread through her womanhood and out over her whole body, Mr Darcy spurted his warm seed into her. They both enjoyed a brief passage of exquisite ecstasy simultaneously. They lay in each other’s arms for a few more blissful minutes and then they bathed and dressed and went down for breakfast.

  In the little dining room, they were both seated at opposite ends of a mahogany table. As they ate, Darcy dismissed the servants so that he and his wife could talk about intimate matters concerning their activities in (and, Darcy was hoping) outside the bed chamber.

  “You were wonderful this morning, Mrs Darcy,” he said.

  “So were you, my love,” she replied coyly. “Especially when you turned me over and loved me a second time, from behind.”

  “Well you have such a pert little bottom. It’s very hard to resist.”

  “I am very glad that I please you in the bed chamber,” she said with a smile.

  “I was thinking, Lizzy,” he said in a faltering tone, “how do you feel about that thing we discussed earlier?”

  “You mean being together in the coach and having strangers watch us?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “What did you call it again? Hounding wasn’t it?”

  “Dogging, Lizzy. It’s called dogging.”

  Lizzy was by no means prudish and she enjoyed pleasing her husband. In fact, she enjoyed it very much for her husband pleased her too. She was not at all averse to adding spice to their marital relations. However, she thought dogging might be taking things a little too far. After all, she thought to herself, what if somebody she knew opened the door of the coach and observed her making love to her husband, with her breasts on display and her pretty secret place exposed. The thought of it actually gave her a little frisson of pleasure between her legs.

  “I would have to give it some consideration, Fitzwilliam,” she said.

  “Perhaps you should talk to your sister?” he suggested.

  “Lydia you mean? Yes, she does know all the details. Perhaps I should discuss the matter with her.”

  She had given him hope. He imagined what it would be like and felt his member harden inside his tight white trousers.

  “When will you see her next?” he said.

  “This afternoon. She is coming to Pemberley this afternoon. Didn’t I tell you?”

  “Excellent. Without that braggart Wickham I trust?”

  “Yes. Just her and one of her servants.”

  “Excellent,” said Darcy and finished his breakfast with gusto and enjoyment.

  A little later, Lydia, Lizzy’s youngest sister visited Pemberley. She came in a small carriage with just one female servant. Lizzy was relieved that Wickham was not with her, for she knew how her husband felt about Wickham and a most unpleasant scene may have unfolded had he been there too. Lydia entered the great doors of Pemberley. Formal greetings were made between Lydia and Darcy, with a great deal of bowing and curtsying.

  “Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs Wickham,” said Darcy with a bow.

  “You are most kind, Mr Darcy,” said Lydia with a curtsy.

  “My wife is in the garden at present, Mrs Wickham,” he continued.

  “Indeed, Mr Darcy?”

  “Yes. I will take you there myself. She is busy with her watercolours.”

  “Thank you, Mr Darcy. Would you permit my servant to retire to the kit
chen, for it has been a long journey? Her name is Amy.”

  “Of course,” said Darcy. “You may ask the cook for a tankard of ale if you wish.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  A servant showed Amy to the kitchen. Darcy asked another servant if he would bring some refreshments to the garden.

  “Of course, sir,” said the servant.

  “A jug of cordial and three glasses if you please,” said Darcy.

  “I’d prefer ale, if you please,” said Lydia.

  “Of course,” said Darcy. “A jug of ale, a glass of ale and two glasses, if you please.”

  “I’d prefer a jug of ale, if you please,” said Lydia.

  “Very well,” said Darcy. “A jug of cordial, a jug of ale and three glasses.”

  The servant bowed and went to fetch the refreshments.

  Darcy led the way and Lydia followed a few paces behind. She enjoyed walking behind Mr Darcy, for he always looked most attractive in his tight white trousers, a fit young man with firm buttocks, about which Lydia sometimes thought when she was alone in her bed chamber.

  They went into the garden. Lizzy sat at her easel, working on a portrait of her husband in watercolours. It was a good likeness and Darcy looked majestic as he stood before the great front door of Pemberley House. Lizzy added a few little dabs of detail with a fine paintbrush.

  “That’s a good likeness,” said Lydia.

  “My wife paints very well,” said Darcy, giving Lizzy a little kiss on the hand.

  “So, I see,” said Lydia.

  “Do you paint, Mrs Wickham?” said Darcy.

  “I dabble a little. I’ve painted a few portraits of George.”

  “Indeed?” said Lizzy. “perhaps I could see them sometime? Wouldn’t you like to see them, Fitzwilliam?”

  Darcy shrugged with indifference.

  Lydia leaned over and whispered to her sister.

  “I can’t really show them in public, Lizzy. They are of a private and intimate nature.”

  Lizzy looked bemused for a second. Then light dawned on her face when she realised what Lydia meant.

  “Intimate nature? Oh, I see.”

  “Perhaps I could give you a private showing when you come to visit us?” said Lydia. “Just you I mean.”