A Honeymoon Romance in Victorian Style

I will here insert a characteristic letter from my loved mistress, Mrs. Kalson, to her intimate and Cossmos school friend, along with the reply thereto.

It was several years before they were shown to me, and some time after I had possessed both the charming writers, for we all three became fast friends; indeed, I may call myself or rather my prick, the pivot on which their friendship turned, yet there never was the shade of jealousy on either part, but in these remarks I am anticipating what I may, perhaps, be hereafter tempted to describe more fully.

I give these letters now because they immediately refer to the events to which I am referring.

They show the secret workings of my loved mistress's mind, the voluptuous nature of her temperament, and the satisfaction that my delicious initiation had given.

Her affectionate and flattering remarks, relating to myself, are greater than I deserved. The following is the first letter addressed to her friend:

TO THE HONORABLE

MRS. Broton

Dear Sophia,

I am about to keep my promise and give you an account of our honeymoon.

You, my dear, must be equally faithful and reply as frankly as I am now about to write to you.

Two giddier girls than you and I never entered the bonds of matrimony, or more earnestly longed for the sights connected with it.

Well, after the usual breakfast, we left by rail for Leamington, where we were to pass our first night.

We had a coupé to ourselves, and beyond seating me on his knee and kissing me, Freddy behaved with much decency and propriety.

We arrived and dined.

The hour between tea and bedtime was sufficiently tedious, as both of us were naturally preoccupied.

My husband wrote a letter to Mamma, telling her of our safe arrival and of his intense happiness.

After which, he asked me if I would go to bed in the most matter-of-fact way imaginable.

I murmured an affirmative, scarcely knowing what to say.

He rang for a candle and told me he would follow shortly.

It seemed like a dream to me.

The maid showed me a room containing a large four-post bedstead, heavily hung with curtains, and provided with old-fashioned furniture.

I seated myself on the edge of the bed and began to meditate.

I sat thus for, I dare say, ten minutes, and then commenced undressing.

I had put on my nightgown and removed everything but my stockings when I heard footsteps approach the door.

I opened it, and my husband entered, closed it, and turned the key.

Oh, Sophia, I did feel so funny.

I was undressed in a bedroom with a man, and that man had a right to my person.

He seated himself in an armchair and drew me to his knee.

Nothing but my thin nightgown separated my bottom from his bare knee, for he had quite undressed in an adjoining room and had nothing on but his shirt under his dressing gown, which flew open as he sat down.

He drew my lips to his, and kissing me, he thrust his tongue between them while his hand first caressed and squeezed my bosom, which, you know, is pretty full and well-developed; it then wandered down upon my thigh, pressed, and felt the fleshy form.

Little by little, he approached my belly and, for a moment, pressed my mount.

These preliminaries are at all times exciting, but now they have made me almost ill, so great was my confusion.

Seeing this, he drew up my nightgown and placed his hand, first on my naked thigh, then on my mount, and you know, Sophia, dear, what a forest I have got there.

He seemed delighted with it.

His fingers played with the silky curls, drawing them out to their full length, so long that it appeared to surprise him, and his eyes sparkled, and his face showed much excitement.

"Open your thighs, dearest," he whispered.

I obeyed mechanically, and his middle finger forced itself between the lips of my cunt and commenced rubbing my clitoris.

You know, by experience, what an excitable one it is and to what size it develops itself when excited.

Again, Freddy seemed delighted with his discovery.

"Does that please you, my darling?"

"Yes," I faltered out.

He thrust his finger up my neck, then rose up, threw off his dressing gown, took me in his arms, and lifted me onto the bed, placing a pillow under my head.

Then, letting my legs fall over the sides, he kneeled on the floor and, separating my thighs with his arms, stooped and kissed my quim.

He did more; he sucked and then licked with his tongue my already excited clitoris.

It set me on fire, and I could not avoid showing it by the convulsive twitchings of my loins and buttocks.

"Do you like that, my love?"

"Oh! Yes, so much! —so very much!"

I was nearly mad at the excitement he was putting me into.

He again stood up, and, lifting my legs, his hands pressed them again and again.

"What delicious legs!" he exclaimed.

I could see his shirt bulging out.

He leant forward, and with his arms under my legs, he lifted them well up, and I felt a stiff, thick thing pressing against my cunt.

His left hand opened the lips, his right hand guided it between them, and a cruel push lodged its great head completely within.

Neither you nor I, Sophia, were strictly virgins; our fingers and other means had opened our vaginas to a certain extent.

We had played too many tricks together to have left our maidenheads quite intact, so that the passage was less difficult than it might have been.

Nevertheless, it had never been penetrated by the male organ, and that of my husband was the largest.

I experienced, therefore, a great deal of pain and cried out.

"Oh, my dear Freddy, you hurt me dreadfully. What are you doing?"

"Doing, my darling! Why am I getting into you? Have a little patience, and I will make you mad with pleasure."

Another determined thrust sent him halfway, and then with another, still more violent, he lodged himself up to the hilt within.

I screamed with real pain and struggled to free myself.

"Good heavens, sir, you are killing me; I will not endure such treatment."