Charles - Flunkeyania

Putting her finger to her lips as a sign of silence and secrecy, she informed me that the Duke was up and evidently bound on some nocturnal ramble, and that she, being in the Duchess's room, Lord Pomeroy (it is to be presumed that he was there too) had begged her to awake me, and desire me to look after his Grace as there was every reason to fear that his destination was the apartment of the Countess.

"So don't sit there staring like an owl in the sunshine," exclaimed the impudent black-eyed girl. "Get up and put your breeches on and I'll help you."

Now I beg to assure my kind readers that at this moment I was in that particular costume in which Charles Lever describes his hero, Harry Lorrequer, being discovered when the bell rang to draw up the curtain at some private theatricals: to wit, a shirt and silk stockings.

Nothing more, upon my honour!

And I leave it to any to say whether it was a delicate operation for a modest young man to undergo to be assisted in pulling on his breeches by an impudent black-eyed soubrette.

The chastest Joseph that ever lived must have yielded to the temptation, and the stupidest gawky of a piously brought-up lout must guess what followed.

I picked up my trousers from the chair upon which they had been flung as I undressed, and pretending to bungle as I bashfully attempted to hide John Thomas, who at the bare idea of a bit of anything fresh, was in his usual unruly state.

"La!" she exclaimed as her hand touched my projecting shirt, "is it anything that will bite?"

"Yes love, but not anything to hurt a darling like you. Won't you stroke his pretty head? It's a pet with all the ladies," I replied, pulling up my shirt and presenting the Vade mecum of pleasure to her eyes.

Juliette at once flushed crimson as she covered her face at the sight, ejaculating: "How dare you, sir? I'll tell the Countess!"

"Not before you've enjoyed it, however, and then you can give me a reference for gallantry as well, which may do me a great service. You're in for it, now, Miss Juliette," I said, shoving her towards the bed, and in spite of her resistance, I soon had her clothes up and got between as beautiful a pair of thighs as I ever saw (she had no drawers on). It wanted only the electric touch of Mr. Pego to make her surrender all discretion. Ah, what an engagement we had, yard-arm to yard-arm, as Jack Tar would say! In fact I fired into her porthole till she surrendered and went off into a faint of ecstasy.

I shall never forget it, short as the fuck was, it was one of the most enjoyable I remember. Time was precious and she soon kissed and forgave my boldness, for, of course, it was only what the young lady had hoped and expected, and so I trust she was satisfied. But now I had to attend to business.

Finding that the Duke had indeed left his room, I proceeded in search of his Grace, not in the direction suggested by Juliette, but in quite another direction than towards my Lady Pomeroy's apartments, to where the under-servants slept. Comfortable rooms enough they were, too.

Now I was perfectly aware that Sophy and Lucy, the two housemaids, slept in one room. There I thought would be my mark, and there, sure enough, I found his Grace evidently on the most affectionate terms with the two young women, whose charms, though not of the most aristocratic class, were by no means to be despised; for he was paying them very liberally in advance, and so I had to remain and see whether he fell into the snare which sometimes awaits the bad paymasters who pay in advance, or I should make but a poor report to my employers. But, no, I had the gratification of witnessing through the medium of the keyhole (after rather a tedious observation, however, for were there not two young women?) that "there is honour among housemaids" and that if his Grace of Dashwood did not get his money's worth it was not the fault of Sophy and Lucy!

Honour amongst maid-servants, you would have thought so, had you but seen how Sophy and Lucy, after receiving the Duke's retaining fee, worked for his pleasure in hopes of getting a refresher when he retired.

Nor were their labours in vain. Yet, I verily believe he had stimulated himself by a dose of tincture of cantharides, phosphodyne, or something of that sort, for he was a perfect goat.

Lucy in her nightdress was sitting on the edge of the bed with a finger between her thighs, evidently trying to impress upon his Grace the necessity of another bit of flimsy for her bedfellow; and from what I could only partially hear, he made that depend on how they pleased him first.

Although I could not hear all that was said, what I saw will enable me to supply the dialogue.

Lucy now proceeded to business by suddenly throwing the bedclothes off Sophy, whose chemise she turned up, and began to smack her lily-white bum before she could very well help herself.

I could see the red marks flush on her tender skin at every slap. This seemed greatly to please the Duke, who did his best to prevent the helpless girl from getting up.

Sophy struggled desperately, looking both flushed and cross but afraid to call out for fear of making too much noise.

His Grace had gone on his expedition in slippers and dressing-gown. So when this slapping was over; he slipped off his only coverings, and dropping the slippers, had nothing but his stockings on as he jumped on the bed between the two girls, his great affair as stiff and ready as possible.

Sophy was the first to take possession of that red-headed prize. She was evidently excited by the rough usage of her posteriors and begged to be comforted at once.

"So you shall, my dear," said the Duke, "and let your bedfellow straddle over my face, that I can tickle her up with my tongue whilst you ride my cock."

This was a luscious sight and raised all my own lustful feelings quite to burst point, till, as they all seemed to come together, I actually emitted in my breeches.

After this, each of them sucked his prick and balls by turn, till he mounted Lucy and fucked her like a satyr; Sophy all the while kissing and fondling his testicles and working one finger in his arse-hole to excite him to the utmost.

Even this did not exhaust him, for he gamahuched them by turns, and even did the "La Rose" trick of the French women, by frigging their bottoms with his long tongue, which seemed to drive them almost mad. They got his prick in a glorious state again, and at his request, both knelt down on hands and knees, presenting their bottoms to him. What a surprise I had, for he buried that great bursting prick of his in each arse-hole in turn, and then for a change, in their cunts. He made it last awfully long and I could see plainly by their wriggles of delight and the subdued ejaculations of pleasure which I heard, such as: "How nice – lovely – delicious. How you do make me come. Oh, do spend into me," etc., as each girl was also busy frigging herself as well.

At last it was over. I saw him taking the second fiver out of his dressing-gown. So, turning from the keyhole, I retraced my steps. Everyone to his taste, I reflected, as I quickly and cautiously descended the stairs on my homeward journey. And yet again, I thought, a man might do worse; and if I had not been so exceptionally fortunate, as I am, I might be very glad of two such buxom lasses as Sophy and Lucy.

These reflections brought me to the door of the Duchess of Dashwood (quite in another part of the house from that of the Duke), and here I essayed to make my knocking with my knuckles.

But whether Juliette was in the arms of Morpheus or of one of our young footmen, or of M. Duroque, or of all three, I cannot tell; but at any rate, I could not obtain admittance, until I heard the bolt withdrawn and the voice of the Earl, my master, telling me to come in.