Emily: Or, the voluptuous delights of a once-innocent young lady

CHAPTER 19

Each of us had fifty pounds, donated by Papa, and folded neatly in our reticules. 'We shall go there', said Jane each time we passed a ladies' clothing shop or some fashionable emporium in Knightsbridge and in Kensington. There was much shouting from the cabbies, all the roads full of the bicycles which had become a rage, some furiously ridden on their spidery wheels by men, and more sedately (with some wobblings both of bottoms and of wheels) by ladies wearing knickers similar to those worn by the sterner sex, except that they were of looser fit and were hidden to the knees by a tight coat. Wildly tinkling bells they rode, the horses skittering and many swear-words uttered by the cabmen while enraged old gentlemen occasionally shook their sticks at all as they endeavoured to cross the crowded thoroughfares. The house in which we were to stay was a tall one at the corner of a mews which I thought a pretty place, with flowerpots on the outer sills and crested carriages that gleamed in black and purple-some in grey with linings of maroon or gilt. The Harringtons had gone away we heard first, to our uttermost dismay, but this said by a reedy butler as he let us in, and then a maid appeared and whisked us to the drawing room before we could even get our bonnets off. There, a young lady, tall and slender with a wasplike waist and the most tightly sheathed of derrieres, greeted us gushingly and introduced herself as Catherine.

In the background was a young man, standing quiet. 'Are you Miss Harrington?', I enquired, for she had not introduced herself and evidently thought herself above such mundane things. 'I? No, my dear-oh, goodness, no. I am but a helpless houri if the truth were told. This is young Mister Harrington. I call him George. Come, forward, George. Be introduced. He is quiet, but in his way is useful.

Are you not, George? Say yes to the young ladies-quite the fairest we have had for a long time'. 'Neither of us are likely to say no to that', said I, but did not smile, for I thought her over-forward and too perky-bright. George, in a pearl-grey suit with black cravat, then shook our hands. His own was limper than mine was. I judged him just a year beneath my age, and wondered at his usefulness, but was soon to be informed of that, for thereupon she whisked us up to our respective bedrooms, saw to Jane, and then closeted herself with me. 'When shall the Harringtons be back?', I asked. 'Oh, we are to meet them on their houseboat, dear. Along the river, doncherknow', she drawled, produced a cigarette and then a lucifer and clouded blue smoke about my ears. Taking the moist tip from her lips, she offered it to me. I sensed a challenge, drew on it, and knew a heady, Turkish taste. -'You frequently smoke? Do you frequently do all things-both of you?', she asked, and threw herself upon the bed and gazed at me askance. 'Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. I have not counted them', I said, and took my outer things off and cast them willy-nilly on a chair. There were no maids to help one, so it seemed.

'Sometimes is nice', she said and looked put out at my directness, 'I do it often, though-last night, this morning, and tonight again I shall'. 'Do what?', asked Jane who drifted in.

'Ah-I forgot that you were country girls. There are all sorts of names for it, of course. Some call it sausage and mash, and others…'

'We know what it is called', said Jane, 'but do not relay it quite as loudly as you do. In the countryside we are covered, mounted, if you wish to know'. Her tone was sharp; I had not heard it quite so sharp before. 'Well,… George is good for that, and his Papa as well. I am used by them, m'dears, am used', drawled Catherine, although she looked put out and had evidently thought us bumpkins of some sort. 'Are we not all? But there are ways to use males also.

Perhaps you have not found that out as yet. What are we to do then if the Harringtons are not here?' asked Jane. 'We are to meet them on their boat at Richmond, or somewhere like that', I interjected and then looked down at Catherine and asked her briskly, 'When?' 'Eh?

Oh!' She scrambled up. I envied her long legs a little bit. 'This afternoon, my sweets. Did I not say? A light lunch first and then we shall be off. Come down, come down-I think I hear the gong'. Such was our introduction to the town, so much admired by those who live within its smoky interstices, but not so much by those who live beyond and cherish woodsmoke and the songs of blackbirds more than the arrogance of city noise and bustle. I would as soon live in a small hut in a wood as in the dusty dens of Kensington or Pimlico. The Thames at least was yielding, feathered all along its banks by leaves, stone bridges, idle punts, and tow-paths where the dog-rose grew. I liked it at first sight and so did Jane, though it was a fairer ride than we thought along the roads to Shiplake where the houseboat floated regally. I had thought of it as small-a sort of wooden hut upon a barge, for we had never seen the like before, and Papa had not mentioned it. The Tangerine for some extraordinary reason it was called, perhaps because of the colour of its curtains which I thought were over-bright. The main saloon was twice as long as our own drawing room at home, and the dining room was barely smaller. 'Seven beds it has, my dears', said the Hon. Arnold Harrington when he greeted us, a gold-braided naval officer's cap upon his head. There were fireplaces and parquet floors, brass everywhere and vases filled with flowers. The bedrooms clustered on an upper deck, each with a washstand and a flowered commode. The beds were low and heavy-double in each room. I thought it to be a floating palace-so did Jane. We were conducted round like royalty, then taken back down to a bar where drinks were served by ankle-fleet young maids. One in particular caught my eye. She looked no more than sixteen and was small but shapely, and with corngold hair. Our host-then being alone with us- smiled at my look towards the girl. 'You may have her tonight, if you wish', he said. I blinked. His boldness was too much-particularly as we had never met before. 'Arnold! What is to do?', a female voice then sounded, and we all looked up. A lady whom I guessed to be our hostess stood within the doorway, clad in a filmy peignoir that floated down below her ample thighs. Beneath she wore a light, pale blue chemise, and patently no drawers. Her garters were of ruffled purple and her stockings pink. Laced boots reached up her strong calves to her knees. George behind her stood, his hair awry and jacket off, his loose cravat held in her grip as though he were a pony. 'What is it, my dear?', our host asked languidly.

'That Catherine. She is encouraged overmuch. I caught her fiddling with him on her bed. Step forward, George-show your shame to these young ladies', uttered she majestically, then drew him sideways to her shoulder with a squawk from him, whereat we saw his penis, rigid, sticking out, his trousers opened and the sides tucked in.

'Fiddling, indeed! You know how well she plays male instruments, my pet. See to him, will you? What a ghastly sight he looks! I'm sure the girls are thoroughly embarrassed, are you not? Pray do not answer, for I see a certain shyness in your eyes. Priscilla, my dear, will you not take him off and see to him? The wretched youth is overwrought with all these sights of femininity. I will see to it that Catherine has a scorched bottom for her sins. Deal with him as you will. You best know how'. 'Yes, dear-for if you say so, then I will. Come!

No-do not hide it away! Your naughtiness has gone too far for that'.

'YOO-HOOO! MA-MA!' squeaked George at that point, for in turning she released the ends of his cravat and took hold of his prick instead to lead him off. We heard her feet go heavily up to the upper deck, his own more stumbling and some further squeaks from him. Her voice rumbled, bumbled, then a door was closed. 'As we were saying?

What were we saying-what?' 'What a pleasant day it is', said Jane, and kept the straightest face I ever saw. 'Indeed. Where are we? Henley, Shiplake, Mortlake? I forget. The time is wearisome without the charm of such as you-dear daughters of my closest friend.

You have both been tried and put to it, I trust? If not by… hmmmm… then, well, perhaps by… hmmm… As to the maid, yes, yes, of course. She answers to three rings-or is it four? Jenny, what do you answer to?', he called to the girl who had stood behind the bar with her back to us all the time and was polishing a glass. 'Three, sir. Or sometimes four. I forgets myself, and often I bumps into Carrie on the way. She don't know either. She forgets like me'.

'Answer to one tonight, and then you'll know' 'Yes, sir, I will that. Does the young lady wish me at a special time?', the girl asked, but she did not turn. All servants turn-should turn-when they are spoken to. Papa had birched a maid or two for less. I fancied, of a sudden, birching Jenny's bottom-felt myself to be Papa, and understood a little better what he did. 'Well, Emily?' Our host looked to me, asked me languidly. I, not to be put out, said 'Ten o'clock' and twirled my glass against my lips. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the maid hunch up her shoulders just a little, then relax.

She turned her face, looked shyly, then looked back. I loved her in that moment, or I thought I did, would fluff her corngold hair and make her mew, tickle her cunny, make her jerk while I looked down into her pleading eyes. She would be Emily and I would be Papa, but when I lay upon her then I would be James. 'I shall be with you, too, at ten o'clock', said Jane. 'Of course you shall-you always sleep with me', I fibbed defensively before our host. Jenny came slowly round the bar and refilled our glasses with a crisp white wine. Her knee touched mine in passing, warm and small. 'You always sleep together, eh, at home? And elsewhere, too? I say, what luxury, what enviable delights, when you are being… well… eh, what?', our host responded. 'Either we are all mad here, or else the world is square', laughed Jane. She cocked her head and asked, 'What DID you mean?' 'Ah well, I meant to say-when you are being… either of you… both. Jenny, go out, please, for the girls are shy'. 'Yes, sir'. She floated, glanced a shy, fey look at me and then was gone. I thought of her titties, and a milky, baby taste. My tongue would lick amid her moistening curls. The brass-bound, polished door closed with a click. I fancied hearing George moan above. 'Quite simple, really, for I lie on Emily and stick my bottom up and hide her eyes.

She cannot see then when he puts it in', said Jane. 'Her innocence is very sweet-like yours', she added with a luring smile. I saw she took to him and his strange talk. I did not mind myself his goatee beard, his lips a little thick, but strong. 'What treasures!', he exclaimed and then stood up. His penis proud showed through his trouser cloth. 'The best of it is that I thought you might be dull', he continued in a different tone-one that had settled as a cow does in a field before it rains. 'No, we are never dull', said I. I thought it best to speak-not seem less bold than Jane had shown herself. 'He wishes us to say our prayers', said Jane, and produced from him a charming, boyish smile that yet showed hesitation at her words. I watched her words chase round within his mind and come to settle on one leg. 'The gendeman sits and the young lady kneels', I said. I was other than the bumbling fool he first had seen.

His eyes showed that. Blue eyes, they were-had a metallic sheen.

'Ah, so! Then come, girls-say your prayers in turn', he uttered.

Loosing quickly all his trouser buttons, he revealed a member of impressive size. The crest was rubicund and swollen up. The veins showed clearly on the stem. 'Go on', said Jane to me. -'No, you', I said. -'Oh, very well-how boring it all is', she laughed self-consciously and rose to cast herself then down between his legs.

Head bent, mouth open, she absorbed three inches of his rigid prick, causing his eyes to close with pleasure. 'Mmmm!', he then hummed.

Her lips moved wetly up and down, causing his cock to pulse the more.

His eyelids quivered, then he beckoned me. I stood unsteadily. Jane's eyes were closed. Devotion showed in both her sucking cheeks. -'Come here', he uttered in a lordly voice. I reached the chair arm and bent over him, put one hand down and touched Jane's head, his tongue a wild snake in my mouth, hand puckering my skirt up at the back. 'It's all right-I won't let him come', Jane gurgled down below, and all was fire. My right knee was lifted, poised upon the arm. A gentle fingertip worked round my spot-the other sought my bottomhole. Warm mouth of mine to his strong, parted lips-the sweeping, liquid sounds from Jane's own mouth. I felt him bucking to the sucking sound. His finger probed my rose-two inches, three. I mewed, I moaned. The bar was swirling round. 'Come-let me have you!' Hot against my lips he spoke. 'Yes-let him, Emily-I want to see'. Jane spluttered and unbent, stood up. 'No! Not in front of you!', I squeaked.

She seized my legs and he my arms and bore me wriggling to a velvet-covered couch. 'Don't, Jane, you beast! WOW-OH!' Laid on my back, she held my arms while he took up position inbetween my legs, cock thrumming on my belly, thick and moist with her saliva as his pego was. I kicked, though not frenetically. His knob slipped backwards through my dark thicket and then nubbed beneath the seeping lips. 'She likes to be teased', said Jane. 'Just hold it there'.

'I d… d… don't!' I whimpered while the smooth and swollen crest surged at my clitoris. I jittered, wriggled, but he held me down, as most I wished him to- as well he knew. As well Jane knew, also, for then she bent and kissed my wobbling lips and soothed away my seeming petulance. 'Be as you are with Papa, darling.'

'No, I'm not', I whined, and prayed that Arnold had not heard. I could not see him, face upwards to hers. Her tongue curled up between my upper lip and teeth and licked along, and then his tool-his throbber, corker, call it what you may-slipped inbetween the portals and grooved up. -'B… b… b… b…', I whimpered mindlessly, then had it lodged within me to his balls that nestled roundly underneath my cleft. Jane rose, half rose, and stroked my face, then moved her hand upwards to my hair. His mouth mashed down on mine, and I was lost-lost to the strong, thick piston movements of his cock, aware of his trousers rumpled down between us both, a-rubbing on my legs and that a lewdness that I much enjoyed. We ceased to kiss and pressed our cheeks together as my bottom moved in rhythm with his urging loins. My glazed eyes stared deep into those of Jane who had knelt down beside the couch and softly pecked upon my open mouth.

'Is it nice?', she asked. Her tone was sweet and soft. 'Oh yeth, oh yeth', I lisped-was quite beside myself with the virile, sturdy pumping of his tool, the steady smacking of his balls beneath my fleshy derriere. The insane desire came over me to have another up my bottomhole at the same time. I sprinkled, grimaced, causing Jane to wrinkle up her nose with pleasure, for she knew the signs of another female's pleasure just as well as I. 'There, baby, baby, wet his cock', she breathed. Her words triggered off another sweet explosion in my belly and I came again. His balls were sticky underneath my fur.

I drew my knees up, threshed my bottom more, and once more brought my mouth beneath his own, spilling small moaning sounds of pleasure on his tongue. 'What a superb fuck you are!', he groaned. 'Yes, yes!', I panted. Jane was lost to me save for her kisses on my cheek. 'Your tongue also!', he gasped at her. Somehow she slipped it inbetween our mouths-three tongue-tips touching and the room a-whirl. -'GAR-AAAR!', he choked and rammed his piston in my warm, smooth cave up to the thickly pulsing root and loosed his first full jet of come. Jane's fingertips touched at the bottom of my cunny then, the sticky-wet conjunction of our parts, and no doubt felt the huge veins pulsing as he pumped. 'Goo-gooo!', I whimpered as he came again. Her fingertip sneaked in my bottomhole. I raised up both my legs and churned my hips, meshing my pubic hairs to his, feeling his liquid treasures flow unceasingly within until he quivered, shuddered and was done, ticking out pearls of pleasure in my quim. He nibbled madly at my ear. Jane took my mouth once more. My legs shot down and straightened; my toes curled. 'Oh Jane, Jane, Jane!', I sobbed, then fell into that misty nothingness of satiated love.

Anonymous Emily: Or, the Voluptuous Delights of a Once-Innocent Young Lady