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The effect was really magical, for her conversation, hitherto so constrained, became gay and lively, and as this vivacity added to her other charms, I grew more and more enamoured of her.
'What capital oysters these are,' she said, swallowing her ninth 'native'.
'Yes,' I said, 'in your Cheshire home you would find it difficult to procure such real beauties.'
'We should, indeed,' she replied, 'and for the matter of that it is perhaps better that shellfish are so scarce with us,' and she heaved another sigh. This beautiful woman is decidedly a conundrum, I thought, but determined to probe the puzzle, I enquired the meaning of her last remark.
She blushed and simpered, then fixing her eyes on her plate said, 'I have always understood that shellfish are exciting, and stimulate the passions.
'That is perfectly correct,' I retorted, 'and therefore all the more reason why a married lady should patronise them.'
She sighed again, and then at last I guessed the reason.
Fool that I was not to have divined it before this time. Hope now was succeeded by certainty.
After disposing of some chicken and another glass of champagne, into which I had dropped some more balsam, she sank back into the armchair and murmured - 'How long do you think my brother's consultation is likely to last?'
'Pray heaven,' I ejaculated fervently, 'that it may last all the night through.'
'Why do you say that, Mr Clinton?'
'Because to see you and to listen to your voice is ravishing delight, which to dispel would seem to me the precursor of death.' And I flung myself upon my knees before her, and seizing her hand pressed it to my lips and covered it with burning kisses.
She gently tried to withdraw it, and pointing to her wedding ring, said - 'Dear Mr Clinton, I am a wife, have pity on me, I am but a weak woman and -'
But I caught her in my arms, and stifled the rest of the sentence with a long and ardent embrace, which, repulsed at first, was at length returned.
Two seconds afterwards, my finger had softly insinuated itself into her willing cunt, and as it encountered the clitoris I found that it was as stiff as my own penis, which was now at the bursting point.
'Oh, Mr Clinton, for God's sake forbear. If my brother should come in there would be blood spilled, I should be lost.'
'Fear nothing, my darling,' I said, rubbing her vagina with the point of my finger, and feeling the beginning of the pearly trickle exuding all over my hand.
'Come this way.' And leading her ladyship by the hand, never, however, leaving hold of her sweet cunt the while, I placed her on her own brother's bed, and, oh, how can I write further, since to say that she was superb is but faintly to describe the joy I felt as straightening my throbbing prick, I gently slipped it into her.
She gave one loud sigh, then lifted her strong country arse so that I plunged in up to the hilt. At each thrust I gave her ladyship she responded with a promptitude which showed how fresh and spunky her vigorous constitution was.
'Go on, my own precious,' she whispered, as I put my tongue into her panting hot mouth. 'Faster, for Christ's sake, faster.'
And as she said the words I shot into her a discharge which must have clean emptied my cods, for although Fanny still faintly struggled to elicit some more, the last lingering spark of vitality appeared to have flown from me.
I did not seem to have even the strength left to take it out, but lay there on her rounded breasts (for she had undone her clothes before commencing), supine and nerveless.
'Do try again, love,' she murmured, toying with my hair. 'You will never guess, dear Mr Clinton, what this has been to me, my old husband never did such a thing, he always uses a beastly machine, shaped like that which is in me now, but made of gutta-percha, and filled with warm oil and milk.'
You mean a dildo, dear?'
'I have never heard its name,' said Fanny, 'but it is nothing near so nice as this dear sweet thing of yours. Oh! I never knew what real happiness was before; could you manage it once more?' And again her ladyship wriggled her bottom.
In my waistcoat pocket I had a petite flask of Pinero. I took this out and, removing the stopper, drank about half a teaspoonful; the result was electrical. Drawing my prick nearly out of my lady's passage, I found it swelling again; and just giving the potent charm time to work, I softly began once more.
It may almost seem romantic, but I can assure my readers that the second fuck was more enjoyable than the first.
For having made coition a long study, I have always found that, given a cool brain, I can get more pleasure out of a slow connection than a gallopade, where the excitement gets the business over before you can absolutely realise the details. I revel in slow friction, gradually warming up to fever heat, and quite agree with that exquisite stanza of the immortal native of Natal - Who was poking a Hottentot gal, and who, upon being remonstrated with thus -
Said she, 'Oh! you sluggard,'
replied most correctly -
'You be buggered,
I like fucking slow, and I shall.'
To resume. We both seemed to be so au courant of each other's little ways and modes of action as though we had mutually performed the 'fandango de pokum' for years, instead of only a few short minutes.
Presently, to vary the bliss, and to give her ladyship a few wrinkles, I suggested her mounting me, a la St George.
But she begged of me not to take it out, and on my assuring her that was by no means a necessary concomitant, she agreed.
I have always been distinguished as being particularly aufait with the St George, so I managed to roll over very gradually, first one leg and then the other, till I had got Fanny fairly planted on top of me.
But I had gauged her ladyship's cunt power at too low an estimate, for she no sooner found herself mistress of the situation than she took in the position at a glance, and ravished me with such terrible lunges that I fairly cried a 'go'.
But nothing daunted, Fanny held on, and I stood no more chance of getting my poor used-up 'torch' out of her vagina than if it had been wedged into a vice.
At last I felt the hot crème de la crème pouring down over my balls, and with a last despairing gasp of mingled pleasure and regret to think she could hold out no longer, Fanny once more sank into my arms about as thoroughly spent as a woman should be who has been, most damnably twice fucked in a quarter of an hour.
Hastily putting on her things, and making herself shipshape, she drove with me to the hotel, where her boxes had arrived safely, and in the morning I informed her brother, as I had previously arranged with Fanny, that she had sent a messenger to his chambers overnight, saying where she was to be found.
I also told him how I had excused him in a return message by the hotel porter, and his gratitude to me knew no bounds.
I deemed it prudent not to see her ladyship during her stay in town, though she sent me three pressing letters, but I feared we should be bowled out, and wrote her so.
Twelve months after this I heard she had separated from her husband, having presented him, nine months from that blissful evening, with a son and heir, which the old man, not believing in miracles, could scarcely altogether credit the dildo with.