Darcy and Lizzy's Sexy Adventures

by G Scott Gray

  Lizzy blushed charmingly.

  “Actually, I have a miniature in my locket. It’s hidden behind another picture of course. But when I am away from my George, I sometimes take it out and look at it. It brings me comfort when I am in bed alone you see.”

  “Brings you comfort?” said Lizzy.

  “Yes. Sometimes twice,” said Lydia with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “I’ll show you later.”

  The servant returned with the refreshments on a silver tray. He poured out two glasses of sweet cordial for Darcy and Lizzy. They sipped on the cool, sweet tasting liquid. He poured out a glass of ale for Lydia. She gulped it down and asked for another.

  When they had finished their drinks, Darcy excused himself and said he had business matters to attend to and must return to the house. He stood and gave the ladies a little bow in turn. They both gave him a curtsy in return.

  Lydia and Lizzy talked at length. They talked about their father and his entailed estate. They talked about their mother and her displeasure regarding the entailed estate. They talked about their sisters. They even talked about Mr Collins. Lydia felt, however, that Lizzy had something specific in mind which she wished to discuss.

  “Lizzy,” she said finally. “You are my sister and I have known you for many years. Is there something you wish to ask me?”

  Lizzy grinned and blushed again.

  “Yes, Lydia, there is. Now that Mr Darcy is gone, I feel I can ask you. It is, however, of an intimate nature.”

  “Go on,” said Lydia.

  “Well, I understand that you and your husband have rather exotic tastes when it comes to marital relations.”

  “Exotic tastes?” said Lydia teasingly.

  “You know what I mean. You use marital toys. You invite other people into your bed chamber. You like others to watch you. You have been intimate with other women, and I believe that Mr Wickham has been intimate with other men, even though it is a felony. That sort of thing.”

  “Yes, I suppose you could say we have a rich and varied married life. Why do you ask?”

  “Well I wanted to ask if you’ve ever tried something called ‘hounding’?”

  “Hounding?” said Lydia, confused.

  “Yes. From what I understand, it’s when couples go in their coaches and carriages and meet in a secret place to enjoy carnal pleasures.”

  “Oh, you mean dogging,” said Lydia.

  “Yes, that’s what I meant.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

  “And have you and your husband experienced this practice?”

  “Several times. It can be rather amusing. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no reason,” said Lizzy casually.

  “From what I understand, there is a site near Pemberley where one can indulge.”

  “Really? Where?” said Lizzy.

  “On the main road to Derby, there is a little track about a mile away. It’s on the left. You follow the track and after a hundred yards you come to another track. That track leads to a clearing. And that’s where it takes place. It’s very private and nobody else goes there as the track ends at the clearing. Sometimes there a quite a few coaches and carriages there. Sometimes only one or two. You can see strangers there, indulging in intimate activities for the sport of onlookers.”

  “Lydia,” said Lizzy, turning to her sister, “have you been there yourself?”

  Lydia observed Lizzy with an arch, amused expression.

  “Lizzy, darling, there is nothing in which George and I have not indulged.”

  Lizzy became aware of a certain tingling betwixt her legs, a certain moistness within her secret place.

  “Would you show me sometime?” said Lizzy.

  “If you like.”

  “One afternoon perhaps,” said Lizzy. “When Fitzwilliam is away on business. He’ll be in Nottingham and usually stays overnight.”

  “Nottingham?” said Lydia. “Goodness, such distant and exotic places.”

  “So, will you come?” said Lizzy.

  “Of course. I’ll bring my servant too.”

  “Excellent,” said Lizzy.

  “Very well.”

  “Lydia?” said Lizzy. “What about the coach driver? Wouldn’t he see his masters indulging in illicit, intimate activities and perhaps be able to blackmail them?”

  “No. The gentlemen dismiss the coach drivers and then drive the carriages themselves.”

  The two sisters returned to Pemberley House. Lizzy went to find a servant in order to enquire whether or not a carriage would be available in the next few days. She was, she said, planning a pleasure trip around the parks and fields in and around Pemberley. She wondered how they would get there without a driver, for she and Lydia were but weak and feeble women who would be unable to drive a carriage themselves. She would discuss the matter with Lydia later.

  Meanwhile, Lydia had returned to her bed chamber. She felt an ache between her legs, an ache which must be satisfied. However, her husband was not there to satisfy her, and she knew she would need to take matters into her own hands. She locked the door and unfastened her dress. She stood for a moment in her lacy undergarments. She unlaced her corset so that she could release her fine breasts and push them up. Then she slowly pulled down her bloomers. She admired herself in the mirror, naked save for her brassiere, pulled down so she could fondle her breasts. She glanced down at her pretty sex, the lips swollen with desire, the smattering of hair about trimmed neatly.

  She lay on the bed and took the locket from around her neck. She opened it and took out the front picture to reveal a miniature portrait of her husband. Some time ago they had visited a certain, dubious part of London one day and had called upon an artist with a doubtful reputation. There, they commissioned him to paint portraits of them both naked. Not imagined portraits but take from life. They both found it very exciting to be painted naked by a stranger. The portraits were very lifelike and also very erotic. Lydia was painted lying on a bed, a bewitching smile on her face and her legs parted invitingly. George was painted standing, his manhood erect and proud.

  They exchanged portraits and kept them in a secret place. When Wickham was apart from Lydia, he would often take out the portrait and pleasure himself, gazing at his wife’s naked body, admiring her breasts and gaping sex. Conversely, Lydia would take his portrait from the locket and masturbate, imagining it was her husband’s large, erect member inside her.

  Lydia looked at his naked body, his cock hard and proud. She opened a valise and took out a phallus of smooth wood. She lay down and parted her legs. She touched the sensitive little nub with the end of the phallus and gasped out in pleasure. She nudged it inside her sex a little and called out her husband’s name.

  “Oh, George, George,” she breathed.

  She pushed it further inside herself and drew it back and forth, relishing the feel of the hard wood pressing against the silky walls of her wet pussy. It was intimate, private and glorious, as she imagined her husband on top of her, driving his manhood dep inside her as she pleasured herself with long, slow strokes of the phallus.

  By some strange process of telepathy, Wickham was also enjoying intimate pleasures alone. Even though he was overwhelmed with sudden desire for his wife. He lay on their marital bed, the miniature portrait of her naked body in one hand. With the other, he masturbated slowly, moving his hand up and down the shaft of his erection. He stroked his large manhood while gazing at the picture, her pretty face looking out at him, her sweet sex arousing and beautiful.

  They pleasured themselves together, unaware that the other was doing the same.

  They both reached the wonderful, climactic apotheosis of joy at the same time. He called out her name, she murmured his. And afterwards, each of them lay on the respective bed for several minutes, naked and at ease, lazily touching their bodies for a while until they put away the portraits and bathed.

  A little later Lydia went down to the library. Lizzy was there reading a book.

  “Hello, Lizzy,” said Ly
dia, joining her sister at the small mahogany desk.

  “Hello, Lydia. What have you been doing?”

  “Pleasuring myself, sister,” said Lydia.

  Lizzy was shocked at first.

  “Why, Lydia Bennet, how very improper.”

  “I would hope so, Lizzy.”

  Lizzy became of that tingling betwixt her legs again.

  “Was it enjoyable?” she whispered.

  “Most enjoyable.”

  “And did you reach the climactic moment?”

  “Yes. It was very agreeable. And I believe my George was doing the same thing himself at the same time.”

  Lizzy could not help thinking of Darcy’s member and how much it pleased her in the bedchamber. Not only when he was actually making love to her but when he stood naked before her, his large manhood proud, waiting for her to get on her knees and take him in her mouth or just to ease his ache with her hand.

  She continued to read her book but could not concentrate. Other things were on her mind.

  “Lydia?” she said after a while.

  “Yes, Lizzy?”

  “Do you think it would be indecent if two ladies were to go out together in a small carriage, a little gig say, without a man to drive them?”

  “No, I think that would be acceptable.”

  “And suppose those ladies were to take the main road to Derby and follow a little track? And then proceed to a clearing. Would that be improper?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “And if they were to come to a little clearing? Would there be people conversing? Indulging in conversation?”

  “Perhaps. There are usually one or two people there in the afternoon.”

  “Indulging in conversation?”

  “Yes, and with some force probably.”

  “Well, my husband is out shooting some defenceless creatures on the other side of the estate at the moment. He’ll be a few hours. Do you think we could go for a brief ride and be back within a couple of hours?”

  “Lizzy,” said Lydia, “I am sure and certain of it.”

  “Then let us go.”

  They put on their shawls and bonnets. They found an available gig and horse and set off along the road to Derby, Lydia at the reins.

  “Here is the path,” said Lydia after a mile or so.

  She turned down the path and a hundred yards later, turned down another path. They stopped the horse before they came to the clearing. From there they would not be seen. They got out of the gig and walked carefully to the edge of the clearing. From behind a bush they peeped out. What they saw both shocked and delighted them.

  They saw a young, handsome groom from the Pemberley estate, making vigorous love to an older lady on a blanket placed on the dry ground. A coach had been parked and leaning against it stood a mature man, who stroked the full shaft of his member while watching the young man and the lady. Lizzy knew him. It was a banker from the village and the lady was his wife. She and Darcy had consulted him on financial matters, and he and his wife had visited Pemberley more than once; not only on business matters but for dinner also.

  The banker’s member was of moderate length and girth, but the groom had a very large manhood. It made the lady gasp out with pleasure as he made love to her with long powerful strokes.

  “That’s one of our grooms,” whispered Lizzy. “And I now the other two as well. The man conducts all our banking affairs and the lady is his wife.”

  “Evidently the groom is conducting some affairs of his own,” said Lydia. “I’m guessing her husband no longer please her n the bed chamber.”

  “I think you’re right. I also think the groom is pleasing her very much from the sound of her moans.”

  “I’m not surprised, his manhood is very pleasing. Not only in length but also in girth.”

  The groom loved her still harder, his thighs slapping against hers as she pulled back her legs, her hands behind her knees, parting her secret place wide for him. The husband continued to pleasure himself, not taking his eyes off his wife for a second.

  “Oh, yes,” said the wife, “you big stallion, ride me.”

  “Yes, madam,” he said.

  “Give it to her, you stud,” said her husband with relish.

  The groom did indeed give it to her, his manhood sliding in and out of her secret place, massively like a piston going back and forth. The lady cried out in pleasure, throwing back her head and lowering her brasier and squeezing her fine, plump breasts in her hands.

  “Oh, Lord,” said the lady, “I can feel my climactic moment starting to rise. Pray, release your seed inside me. I want to feel your hot essence inside me at the same time as I reach my apotheosis.”

  “Yes, madam. I am indeed getting very close.”

  The husband walked across and stood over his large wife, ripe and bountiful with her gifts. He stroked his manhood hard, standing above her.

  “Come on, boy,” he said to the young groom. “I want you to make her come. And then I shall spurt my own seed over her breasts and face.”

  “Yes, sir. We call it a facial in the village. I have been walking out with a young lady and she likes it very much when I give her a facial and come on her face. She loves to lick my seed from her mouth and chin.2

  “Never mind woman, I want you to give your attention to my wife.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The groom continued to make love to the lady, harder and faster, his firm member going almost all the way out and then plunging fully inside her with a powerful thrust of his hips, the bulbous head plunging between her wet, crinkly lips of love betwixt her legs.

  “Yes, oh yes,” cried the lady.

  Her climax built quickly and exploded inside her, wave after wave of sheer pleasure. At the same time, the handsome young groom grimaced and gave one last powerful thrust and shot his hot, creamy seed inside her, filling her secret place and making her moan with delight. Her husband stroked his member quicker and quicker and suddenly, his warm cum erupted from his manhood and shot into the air for a moment and fell over his wife’s face. She happily laughed out loud as the groom slowed, the last of his seed spurting inside her as her own climax began to fade, filling her while body with a wonderful, satisfied warmth. She licked away her husband’s climax from her face.

  They all lay on the blanket, all of them naked; spent, happy and comfortable with each other.

  It was the first time that Lizzy and Lydia had been able to see the groom’s manhood properly. Even though his erection was fading, he was still very large as he became flaccid, his long, thick member resting heavily on his thigh.

  Lydia could not take her eyes from him. She licked her lips and spoke to Lizzy.

  “Good Lord, have you seen the size of him. My George is impressive, but I think the young man is even bigger. I believe if he made love to me, I wouldn’t be able to walk for hours. It would probably hurt a little, but it would be worth it. Oh my.”

  Lizzy didn’t say anything, but she could not but agree with Lydia. But although he was even bigger than Darcy, she knew that Darcy knew exactly what to do to please her, exploring every inch of her silky walls with his manhood.

  In the clearing the gentleman and his wife rose from the blanket and dressed themselves. They got into their coach and prepared to depart. The lady gave one last lingering look at the groom, still naked, his flaccid member still very impressive. The husband raised his top hat and gave the groom a curt nod.

  “You can make your own way back, can’t you?” he said shortly.

  “Yes, sir,” said the groom sullenly, “I can make my own way back.”

  The coach departed and the groom began to dress himself. Rather too quickly as far as Lydia was concerned, for she enjoyed looking at his taught, young body. Eventually, he put on his boots and made his way on foot back to the Pemberley stables.

  “It’s a long walk,” whispered Lizzy. “Do you think he wants a ride?”

  “I rather think he’s just had one,” replied Lydia.
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  Lizzy giggled. She could not help but notice, however, how wet she was betwixt her legs and how much she was thinking about Mr Darcy. More specifically how much she would like to lead him to their bed chamber and ask him to make love to her; lovingly, tenderly and with some force.

  “I don’t think anybody else will be arriving this afternoon,” said Lydia.

  “Then let’s get back to Pemberley,” said Lizzy.

  They climbed back into the gig and Lydia drove them back to the house, going through the rear gates direct to the stables lest they were seen by anybody. As they walked to the house, they saw the groom approach the house across the fields in the distance.

  “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” said Lydia.

  “Yes, I suppose he is,” said Lizzy who was wondering where her husband was at the moment.

  “Lizzy, do you think you could ask the kitchen staff to prepare aa large pitcher of cordial?”

  “Of course. Are you thirsty, Lydia?”

  “Not for me. For the young groom. I think once he’s had a drink of cordial and had a rest for an hour or so, he may be recovered sufficiently to be of service to me.”

  “Be of service to you, Lydia?”

  “I mean fuck the backside off me,”

  “What about Mr Wickham, your husband?”

  “He’s not here. Believe me, if he were, he’d join us. We’d have a very enjoyable male - female - male threesome. It’s one of Mr Wickham’s favourite things.”

  “Very well,” said Lizzy. “I’ll speak to the kitchen staff about that cordial.”

  “Make it a large pitcher,” said Lydia. “He may need to rest and recover more than once.”

  Lizzy went to the kitchen and ordered a large pitcher of cordial. Then she went to the gardens to find her husband. He had just returned from shooting and was now speaking to his groundsman about the gardens. His gun was over his shoulder and, Lizzy thought, he looked very dashing.

  He saw her approach and smiled.

  “Hello, Lizzy,” he said, “I was just talking to Carter here about the gardens. I was thinking we could cut back some of the foliage and replace it with lawn. What do you think?”

  “Well, I know you like a nice trimmed bush,” she said, looking at him directly with a sparkle in her eyes.