The story of a Dildoe - читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги автора Anonymous (TABLEAU III) #4

TABLEAU III

THE DILDOE.

It is Wednesday evening.

During the day a parcel had arrived, by hand, carefully sealed up, and delivered into Miss Flora's own hand. Burning with curiosity she would fain have opened it, but she had given her word to her two friends that she would not, and Flora was a girl to keep her promise. Impatiently, however, she sat waiting until her companions made their appearance. They were immediately ushered into Flora's room.

Refreshments were spread, the door locked, a thick curtain drawn across it, that no prying eyes might peep in, and the three girls prepared themselves for an evening of abandon and pleasure.

" Well, love," said Laura, "have you got what you promised? "

" I have, " said Flora, " and more. I have here a parcel unopened wich contains not only the instrument of delight, but some delightful books, which I am all impatient to read. So now, girls, drink this wine. I pledge you to our thorough enjoyment to our confidence and secresy; and now for the parcel."

" First," said Maud, " let me take off my travelling cloak."

" Oh, yes," said Laura, " and more than that, the room is hot, and we shall better enjoy the reading if unencumbered with too much apparel."

And suiting the action to the word she threw off her cloak, her boots, and partially disrobed, with her lovely bosom glowing in the lamplight, she sat down.

Maud and Flora did the same, and the three lovely girls gathered round the table, their colour glowing, their snowy bosoms heaving, they made a picture which only a Titian could paint and a poet describe.

The seal was broken, the books in tissue wrappers taken out and a box revealed which they instinctively felt contained the article.

" Here," said Flora, " is Pandora's box. It contains our hope. That I will leave for the last. Now for the books."

They eagerly gathered round her. As she unpacked them and as she turned over the leaves and displayed the pictures various were the exclamations that followed, and amidst blushes and laughs and exclamations of delight and wonder the books were read.

"Oh my!"

"Oh, how nice!"

" Oh! do they do it like that? "

" Oh, my gracious! is a man so large as that represents? "

" Oh, good gracious! can a woman ever be so shameless as to suffer that? "

"Oh, look! he's getting into the very place! or, No; he's doing it from the back! "

" Oh, lor, how they seem to enjoy it! "

" Oh, my! do read about it," and such like observations fell in rapid utterance from their lips.

" Oh, dear Flora, what a beautiful book of poems is this," said Maud, "and what exquisite pictures, though so very naughty. Do read one of the poems."

Flora turned to the volume, an exquisite copy enriched with choice etchings, entitled, " Lays for Light Hearts; or, Tales of Love in plain English," and read the following ballad:

"We sat beside the limpid stream,

That mirrored her sweet face,

That mirrored her soft figure,

All elegance and grace.

The river sang soft lullaby,

Her eyelids drooped down,

And hid her pure and lovely eyes,

Those eyes of hazel brown.

The birds sang sweet carols of love,

All nature teemed with joy;

She was a sweet and smiling girl,

And I a growing boy.

At last my feelings seemed to wake,

I felt the throes of love;

And in my Nelly's virgin cunt,

I meant to have a shove.

My hand stole gently up her leg,

And touched her mossy down;

And stiff and fiery grew my peg,

I could not keep it down. "

"What would you do," my Nelly cried,

" You will not do me wrong;

" Oh, no, my love, I'll do you right, It will not take me long."

I took my Nelly's maidenhead,

That balmy July day;

And often since that first embrace,

We have renewed our play.

The charming cunt my Nelly owns,

Brings me sweet joys and bliss;

'Tis the sweetest cunt my prick e'er fucked,

The first my lips did kiss.

" Oh, that is nice," said Laura, when Flora had finished the poem.

" But really," said Maud, " do you mean to say that a girl would permit her lover to kiss her there, or that he would be so stupid as to want to do so, I'm sure that seems too absurd."

" Oh, not at all," replied Flora, " Fm sure that is often done, and I see nothing wrong in it, on the contrary it must be awfully nice to have a man so fond of you. Oh, what a delicious sensation to feel his hot lips pressed close to the lips of your fanny, his soft moustache mingling with its down, his tongue just touching caressingly the tip of your clitoris, whilst your whole soul seems, ready to melt away into his mouth. Oh, I can quite realise the sensation, and even thinking of it has made me feel quite funny."

And Flora's smile and queer look at once indicated the funny sensation she had experienced, was the spending of a few drops of her balmy essence.

" Oh, Flora dear! so do I, your talk has so excited me that I feel a most curious sensation in my pussy, and nothing but a good frigging will relieve me. I don't wish to shock you or Maud, but really if I don't spend I shall faint, and if I faint I shall be ill for the evening, so you must excuse me, I must frig myself into a spend or I shall die."

" No, Laura dear, you are my guest," said Flora, in a mock heroic tone, " and it is my duty to entertain you, and I never shirked duty yet, besides it will be a pleasure, so come here and I'll frig you like an angel."

Maud looked on in almost bewilderment, whilst Flora stooped down and Laura over her to be frigged.

Flora did indeed perform her task as an angel, her pretty taper fingers pushed in and out Laura's dainty cunt, now diving into the far recesses, and now dallying round the entrance, toying with the hair, tickling the clitoris, and giving exquisite pleasure with every touch, for the charm of the whole proceeding was the sympathy Flora imparted, and the evident love and mesmeric enjoyment she felt in imparting pleasure. At last Laura, who stood with her hands clasped behind her head, and her eyes cast up lost in extatic pleasure, sighed, and breathed quick, squeezed Flora's fingers tight between her thighs, and poured out with a shudder of enjoyment a copious flood of warm maiden sperm, which bathed Flora's fingers with the overflow, and trickled down her wrists.

"Oh, Flora, darling Flora," said the girl, " I will love you so for that. Oh, let me sit down I feel so giddy. Oh, I'm afraid Maud is quite shocked, but I did enjoy it so. Oh, I've made you so wet, do forgive me."

"No dear," said Maud," I am not shocked, and I'm very glad to see you pleased, but I'm afraid its naughty. But Flora dear, you are now really getting me into a state of excitement and expectation; do unpack the other parcel and satisfy our curiosity."

" So I will love, said Flora, " I can't say I forgot it, but I prolonged its production for the sake of extra pleasure. However, here goes, let us see the pretty toy; and Fm sure if it is a pretty game that can be played with it we are the girls to do it."

So saying Flora took up the parcel, Maud bent eagerly over her. Laura who had now quite recovered the excitement of Flora's tittillations earnestly looked on-the thing was wrapped up in several wrappers of silver tissue, and Flora who was brimful of mischief, kept delaying every wrapper, teasingly asking the others what they thought it was like. At last the final wrapper was removed, and Flora held before them

THE DILDOE.

A beautifully made and exact model of a man's prick-in an erect condition, and coloured like nature; the top glowing red, and the base surrounded with short curly hair, altogether a most manly looking article, but being full size it seemed to the startled girls rather a formidable weapon.

" Oh my gracious, what a dreadful thing," said Maud. " Oh I'm sure such a thing as that would kill me."

" Oh nonsense," returned Flora, " you can't have too much of a good thing," and she daintily caressed it. " I own it looks large, but I believe the man who made it is an artist, and he has kept true to nature, and formidable as it may appear I mean to open my fortress to the enemy, and thoroughly capitulate. But see what is this, here is a paper wrapped up which I did not notice; writing I declare, and Madame Marcelle-why it is a poem-come now I must read that."

And with the dildoe lying in her lap, and now and then caressing it, Flora with correct emphasis and genuine feeling, read the following:

ODE TO A PRICK.

Source of my pleasures, fountain of my joy,

Parent of my treasures girl and boy;

Thou staff of comfort, rod of kingly power,

From day to day I think of thee each hour;

Thou art my only treasure, darling Prick,

For fortune with the world has turned me sick;

But thou true as the needle to the pole,

Turn'st thy carnation head straight to my hole;

The king's own spectre could not charm my eye,

Though diamonds rare and jewels I there descry;

The sparkling dew that graces thy sweet tip,

Charms every sense, 'tis fragrance to my lip.

And Aaron's staff that blossomed into flowers,

Is not so great a wonder as this prick of ours;

Yes, I say ours, its greatest share is mine,

I use it in its glory, its humbler state is thine.

Oft when it slept I've watched its drooping head,

The wrinkled foreskin quite concealed the red;

Lifeless it lay till fondled with this hand,

Then it woke into life, and made a stand,

Just like a warrior startled from his rest,

By clarions shrill, he donned his fiery crest;

Swift to the fray, he's ready for the field,

And like that warrior he his blood doth yield.

Oh, darling prick, how often has this frame

Thrilled with sweet j oy when уou joined in the game;

How oft this cunt was deluged with thy sperm,

Each drop of seed, of bliss a loving germ;

How oft thy glowing tip has caused this cunt,

To gape just like an earthquake's gap in front,

'Til you, like Curtius in the days of old,

Leaped in, and brought me joy and bliss untold.

But now, alas, the prick that once was mine,

Sun of my life in other lands doth shine;

My sun has set, deserted in life's noon,

I thought grief at its loss would kill me soon;

But as a child deprived of the breast,

Can with a teat of art be lulled to rest.

Just so my quim deprived of nature's drop,

Found art come to its aid its pangs to stop;

When Marcelle's prick was from me wiled away,

It turned to darkest night my joyous day;

I sighed " Farewell, farewell, the joys of love,

Farewell the soft caress, the vigorous shove;

Farewell, the pleasure of that glorious rod,

That was to me like nectar to a god;

Farewell, the happy moments spent in bed,

Where oft I've fondled thee from root to head;

Farewell, the thrill that use could never blunt,

Farewell, the joy that filled my soul and cunt;

No more thirsty quim shall drink thy seed,

Carlotta's occupation's gone indeed!

When lo! the Dildoe like a sun arose,

Dispelled my gloom and healed my many woes;

It gives me comfort, for we learnt the trick,

I close my eyes, and think 'tis Marcelle's prick;

'Tis true and constant, ne'er away does roam,

The fondest husband sticks not close to home;

Take this sweet girl, and when with joy you've thrilled,

Then thank your friend for sending you a Dildoe!

" Oh, how nice," said Laura, when Flora had finished.

" It is indeed very clever," said Maud, "and I am sure Madame Marcelle, who is an experienced woman, ought to know better than recommend anything that would do us harm. So, Flora dear, I begin to think that the dildoe must be good for one- Come Flora dear, after reading that poem I am all impatient to see its effect, and you are to be the first to try it you know, and Laura shall be your lover. I will be content for this time to look on, but I will equip you for the encounter. Laura dear, let me buckle on your sword.