by G Scott Gray
They got out of their own coach and walked to the other. They stopped at the window, aware that the door had not been opened. Perhaps those inside wanted an audience only and did not want to be joined or touched. For now, at least.
Darcy and Lizzy looked inside. To their surprise, they saw…Charles and Jane Bingley.
“Why, Charles, what are you doing here?” said Darcy.
“We came to visit you at Pemberley. We wanted to give you a surprise.”
“But why here? In this clearing?”
“Well, it’s been a long ride and with the constant movement of her bottom up and down on the seat, she felt rather excited and aroused. We enjoy meeting strangers and indulging in acts of love together. And we know that people like to gather here on Tuesday evenings.”
“So, we thought we’d go dogging before we came to Pemberley,” said Jane helpfully.
“Would you care to join us then,” said Lizzy.
“Indeed,” said Charles. “And afterwards, we can drive you back to Pemberley in our coach. You can leave yours here overnight and send a servant to fetch it tomorrow.”
“Very well,” said Darcy.
“So, how has it been this evening?” said Charles.
“Fairly quiet. We met a charming married couple and enjoyed intimate relations with them. By which I mean Lizzy and the wife enjoyed some excellent cunnilingus together while the husband and I watched.”
“Now, come, Fitzwilliam,” said Lizzy, “You did more than just watch.”
“Oh really?” said Jane, intrigued.
“Yes. They both stimulated their members while they watched.”
“Stimulated their members?”
“Yes. Stroked their cocks together. With some intensity too.”
“You mean you masturbated with another man?” said Charles.
Darcy hung his head.
“Yes,” he mumbled.
“It’s good isn’t it?” said Charles. “Intoxicating.”
“But I’m a married man.”
“So am I, Fitzwilliam. But I enjoy it very much. Especially if my wife is there to observe.”
“So you won’t tell anybody about this?” said Darcy.
“Of course not,” said Charles. “In any event, there is a rule. What is observed in the clearing, remains in the clearing.”
“That’s what Lydia said,” said Lizzy. “She said it was the first rule of dogging.”
“Very well, then,” said Charles. “Now, so far, you say you have only met one couple? Well, from my experience people tend to arrive a little later. Mark my words, within half an hour there will be several coaches parked here. As well as some people who have come on foot.”
“So,” said Jane, “the only question that remains is, do we simply wait for the other people to arrive? Or do we use the next half hour in a more amusing way?”
“What do you have in mind, my love?”
“Well,” she said, “you and Charles have always been the best of friends. Suppose you demonstrate to myself and Lizzy just how close your friendship is?”
“That sounds very agreeable, Jane. We could sit here and watch our husbands enjoying intimate relations with one another.”
Darcy felt a stirring in his manhood. Looking down he saw a large bulge develop in Charles’s britches. He could feel his heart beating fast. He had to admit, the idea was intriguing as well as exciting. He still wavered slightly though.
“Isn’t that still a felony?” said Darcy.
“We won’t tell anybody, will we Jane,” said Lizzy.
“Of course not. After all, it’s the first rule of dogging.”
They all climbed into Charles’s coach. Jane and Lizzy sat down and Charles and Darcy sat opposite.
So, Fitzwilliam,” said Mr Bingley, “how far are you willing to go?”
“We’ll see,” said Darcy.
He grinned at his wife and then began to unfasten his britches…
WICKHAM AND LYDIA HAVE SEXY FUN WITH A SHEMALE
Mr and Mrs George Wickham lay in bed one Sunday morning.
It was a calm and peaceful morning in early autumn. The meadows were fragrant, and a light wind rustled through the trees, their leaves just beginning to turn diverse colours of red, orange and yellow in valediction to a hot and brilliant summer. The morning sun shone, not too hot, through the window of their bedchamber. Without the window, birds sang in full throated glory.
The atmosphere of peace and quiet was in complete contrast to the night before when a riotous party had taken place at the home of Wickham and Lydia. Most of the guests had returned home last night. Some, Wickham and Lydia couldn’t say for sure, were still there, sleeping in the guest bed chambers.
Lydia and George had woken half an hour previously. They had made love and now lounged on the bed in that blissful languor which follows good relations between a man and his wife; especially if the man and wife in question have rather exotic tastes in love.
“Well, my pet,” said Wickham, lying naked in bed, his manhood lying heavily on his thigh, “that was most enjoyable, don’t you think?”
“Which?” said Lydia, also naked and stretching out her arms in satisfaction. “The party or love this morning?”
“Why both,” he said gallantly.
“Oh, George, you’re sweet. Do you know how many people are still here?”
“Around four I would think. I think three couples left by coach last night. That means two couples must have stayed for the night. Four people in all.”
Lydia thought for a moment.
“But where did they all sleep then?”
“We have three spare bed chambers, my love,” he said.
“But two of those are out of commission. Don’t you remember, we broke the bed in one of them, when we…er…you know.”
Wickham grinned. He remembered. Lydia was on top and was making love to him so strenuously that the bed collapsed beneath them.
“And the other,” she went on, “is being re decorated.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right. Your mother had it decorated the first time, didn’t she?”
“Yes. You were right, it was hideous. So, I had to have new paint and wallpaper applied. Which means that nobody could sleep there either. You know what that means don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said with a grin. “It means that four of our guests had a most enjoyable night. And probably an energetic morning too. And from what I hear, Mr and Mrs Andrews will have had little objection. I just hope Mr and Mrs Turner enjoyed themselves too. She can be a little prudish, I hear. Then again, Mr Andrews can be quite persuasive. He has rather a silver tongue.”
“As can Mrs Andrews, as I well know.”
Lydia blushed charmingly as she remembered her wonderful evening in her bed chamber with Mrs Andrews. The evening, shortly after her marriage to Wickham, when Mrs Andrews showed her things that were quite new. Her tongue may not have been silver like that of her husband, but she knew how to use it and amply demonstrated this to Lydia that sultry evening in July when she introduced her to the joys of love between two women.
“I’m sure they all got on very well,” said Wickham.
“Indeed. Which means they will all require a hearty breakfast.”
“Good idea,” said Wickham. “I’m famished.”
They put on their silk robes and descended the stairs for breakfast.
As they passed the door of the spare bed chamber, they heard unusual noises and muffled voices:
“Why, Mr Andrews, I’ve never enjoyed love like that before.”
“My dear Mrs Turner, I make love to my wife like this on many occasions. Don’t I my dear?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs Turner. My husband loves to make me squeal a little. Do you need more butter?”
“Perhaps a little. I fear I may be a sore later.”
Another male voice spoke.
“Thank you, Andrews, old man. I’ve been trying to persuade my wife to experiment with this kind of love for some time.”
“My pleasure, Mr Turner. I’m glad you wanted to watch me take your wife’s pretty little bottom.”
Wickham and Lydia grinned at each other and continued to the dining room. They wait for the others to join them.
“How long do you think they’ll be, George?” grumbled Lydia
“Difficult to say, my love,” said her husband. “That depends on Mr Andrews really. I suppose if it’s Mrs Turner’s first time from behind, then the thrill of taking her anal virginity so to speak, might make him finish quicker.”
“I suppose so. We’ll give him ten minutes. If he’s not down by then, we’ll order breakfast for ourselves and the others can eat when they get here.”
“Very well.”
They waited for ten minutes. Then, just as they were about to summon a servant and order breakfast, they were joined by Mr and Mrs Turner and Mr and Mrs Andrews. Mrs Turner had a look of contentment on her face which Lydia had never seen before. They sat down and greeted Wickham and Lydia.
“Excellent party, Wickham old man,” said Mr Andrews.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” said Wickham.
“What about you, Mrs Turner?” said Lydia. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Thank you, Mrs Wickham,” replied Mrs Turner, with a little smile at Mr Andrews, “I enjoyed myself very much.”
A few minutes later servants brought in an excellent breakfast. The six of them ate with relish and cleared their plates very quickly.
“Another sausage, Mrs Turner?” said Wickham offering a dish of large sausages.
“Or have you had enough sausage for one morning?” said Mrs Andrews.
“Or some butter, perhaps? For your toast I mean.”
Mrs Turner blushed. She was a plump woman, rather mature but still handsome with dark hair and an ample bosom. She and her husband had been married for fifteen years, and while he always wanted to try new things in the bedchamber, she had always been reluctant. Until this morning.
Mr Turner was most grateful, and with good reason. Now that Mr Andrews had liberated her womanhood as it were, then he (Mr Turner) would soon enjoy the fruits of his wife’s newfound sexuality (in all its forms). Or to put matters more bluntly, now that she had allowed Mr Andrews to love her bottom, then it would not be long before she would allow her husband the same privilege.
He (Mr Turner) made a mental note to ask his cook to order more butter.
After breakfast the six of them bathed and dressed. Coaches were ordered for the guests. As they were waiting, Mr Andrews spoke to Wickham quietly.
“Could I have a brief word,” he said. “Somewhere quiet. The library perhaps?”
“Of course,” said Wickham. “follow me.”
The two men walked to the library.
Mr Andrews was an athletic young man (considerably younger than Mrs Turner, which added a little excitement for them both), good looking and energetic, with a member which gave Mrs Andrews great pleasure most nights and again this morning, before he turned to Mrs Turner’s arse.
“Well?” said Wickham.
“I just wondered, have you any literature of an erotic nature which I might borrow. I feel I want to broaden my horizons with Mrs Andrews so to speak.”
“I have a few items which may be of interest.”
He opened a secret drawer and took out some pictures. Mr Andrews looked at some and quickly developed a bulge in his tight white trousers.
“Not bad, not bad,” he said. “May I borrow these?”
“Of course.”
Wickham locked the drawer.
“So,” said Andrews, “you keep these hidden from your wife?”
“Heavens no,” said Wickham. “She enjoys them as much as I do. I hide them from the servants.”
“So, you’d say you’re a man of the world?”
“Yes,” said Wickham.
“And your wife enjoys similar inclinations and tastes?”
“Lydia? Very much so.”
“In that case,” said Andrews with a little flick of Wickham’s lapel, “would you permit me to make a proposal?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“There is a friend joining us from Siam.”
“Siam?” said Wickham.
“Yes. She is a stunning young lady. Strikingly beautiful. Only she has a secret.”
“Secret? What kind of secret?”
“I’d rather not say. It will be more amusing if you discover it for yourself. All I want to know is this. Would you be willing to host another party, say next weekend? I will bring my wife as well as my friend from Siam. Her name is Lilly by the way.”
“Yes, of course,” said Wickham. “Anybody else?”
“No, just the four of us, I think. And Lilly.”
“Very well.”
“You may be in for a shock. Or at least a surprise.”
“Shock? You mean something about Lilly?”
“I’d rather not say for now. Suffice it to say, it will be worth the wait.”
They shook hands and Mr Andrews left in a coach with his wife, shortly followed by Mr and Mrs Turner.
Later, when they were on their own, Wickham told Lydia about his conversation with Mr Andrews. She was as intrigued as he was. And like her husband, she was looking forward to meeting Lilly, and discovering what her secret was.
A week later, Mr Andrews returned. With him were his pretty wife and the lady from Siam.
They stepped from the coach and greeted Wickham and Lydia.
“Delighted to see you again,” he said. “You know my wife of course.”
“Welcome, Mrs Andrews,” said Wickham, removing his hat.
“And this,” said Andrews with a sweep of his arm, “is Lilly, our friend from Siam.”
A woman stepped from the coach. Wickham stood rooted to the spot, a foolish look on his face. For a time, he could not speak. Lydia stared at Lilly too. And with good reason. There is no doubt that she was one of the most stunning women they had ever seen.
She had a beautiful face with full lips and big, dark eyes. Her hair was black beneath her bonnet. Even in her dress, one could see the magnificence of her breasts. They were large and plump and were pushed up and out by her undergarments.
“I wonder what her secret is?” whispered Wickham to his wife.
“Maybe we’ll find out later,” said Lydia.
“Wickham,” said Mr Andrews, “my wife and I need to return to our house for a while. Why doesn’t Lilly stay with you for a few hours. Why don’t you show her around? My wife and I will return and take her home later. Perhaps you could make some tea, Mrs Wickham. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all. Be sure to show her everything, George,” said Lydia with an understanding little grin at her husband.
Mr and Mrs Andrews got into their coach and returned home.
“Let me show you downstairs first,” said Wickham.
“I’d rather see upstairs,” said Lilly, “to start with anyway.”
Wickham put his arm in hers and they walked up the large staircase.
“These are the guest bed chambers,” said Wickham, opening each door and briefly looking inside.
“And where is your bed chamber?” said Lilly.
Wickham opened the door and they went inside.
“Here it is,” he said. “this is where my wife and I sleep.”
“Just sleep?” said Lilly.
“Well, among other things,” said Wickham strangely embarrassed.
“This is where you make love, I think?”
“Well, yes.”
“I think Mrs Wickham is a very lucky woman.”
“Thank you.”
“And she’s a very beautiful woman.”
“Thank you. But so are you, Lilly, if you don’t mind my saying so?”
“You are very kind, Mr Wickham.”
“And you are most charming too.”
“Thank you, Mr Wickham.”
“Mr Andrews says you have a secret. Would you mind telling me what i
t is?”
“Telling you, Mr Wickham”?
“Yes. After all, we’re old friends now.”
“I don’t really want to tell you, Mr Wickham,” she said.
“Oh,” he said disappointed.
“However, I could show you if you prefer.”
“Show me?” said Wickham, his breath coming fast and hard.
“Yes. You stand there and I’ll show you.”
Wickham had no idea what to expect.
“Very well,” he said and sat on a comfortable armchair.
He really had no idea at all what to expect. He wondered to himself if she had shaved herself in her secret place, used a sharp razor to remove the dark, curly hair from her mons, leaving her womanhood completely bald. Lydia did that for him sometimes and he always found it most appealing.
Or perhaps she had visited one of the southern colonies and painted her body in strange patterns. He had sometimes seen such patterns on the arms of sailors and often wondered what it would look like on the torso of a beautiful woman.
He had even heard stories of women who inserted pieces of metal inti their flesh, tiny pieces of jewellery inserted into the nose or lips. Sometimes, it was said, they would use jewellery to decorate their nipples, or even more intimate places.
Mr Wickham was not sure if it was any or all of those three things, but he found them all equally alluring. He watched breathless in his chair, as Lilly stood before him.
First, she removed her bonnet and let down her hair, black as jet, which tumbled down over her back. She then took off a little jacket of powder blue and stood in her dress, looking directly at Wickham whose eyes bulged with eager anticipation. With difficulty she unfastened the ties of her dress and loosened it sufficiently to pull it down and reveal her corsets. She pulled her dress down a little at a time until it fell at her feet. She then untied her corset and took it off.
She stood in a pretty red brassiere and matching undergarments. She pulled off the brassiere and revealed to Wickham her full and plump, yet firm breasts. He gasped with delight as he looked upon her. His breath came faster, and he could feel his manhood rise within his tight white linen trousers.
In spite of this, Wickham was a little disappointed. She was a beautiful woman, it was true, but so far he had seen nothing that could be said to be surprising or unusual. And yet, Andrews had told him that Lilly had a very special secret.
