Anonymous: A Man With A Maid II

It was about a week after the exciting events in the Snuggery that I had a rendezvous with my beloved Alice and her charming French maid Fanny once again.

During that week I was exceptionally confident, but then I had enough memories to suffice me. And when a virile man like myself finds himself without female solace, there is always the prerogative of finding to one’s hand one’s male emblem, and while closing one’s eyes, dreamily conjuring up those lewd and delicious episodes of past lechery-until suddenly fantasy becomes reality and one feels one’s manhood bursting with the pent-up sap one has saved since the last encounter with a handmaiden of our goddess Venus.

I must confess that I had half a notion that Lady Bashe and her pretentious daughter Molly might just possibly complain of their treatment in the Snuggery. In our England and in these times of Good Queen Victoria, the female is always the outraged one, and our barristers and justices bow solicitously to their complaints. Now if this plump matron who wished to palm off on me her delightful but rather spoiled and petulant daughter as a mate, had taken it into her vain head to consult a learned solicitor and discover the state of affairs at the Chamber of the Assizes, then I have no doubt that he would have urged her to bring strong action against me. After all, had I not taken her daughter’s virginity and compelled them to perform the most intimate acts which one female can perpetrate upon another?

But as the weeks went by, I felt more confident that Lady Betty would not take any such action and that she would try rather to go out of her way never to cross my path lest my presence remind her of the shameful surrender she and Molly had had to make while at the mercy of Connie Blunt, Alice and Fanny.

Connie, alas, had gone to Italy for a fortnight, or I should certainly have called upon her and demanded a private sйance, for I needed it now. She had forgotten the rigors of her widowhood and had discovered her own full-blown passionate nature. Connie, that lovely golden-haired girl of about twenty-two years, slight and tall and beautifully formed, with delicious blue eyes and a dazzling skin, had been married only a few weeks when her husband had sustained a heart attack Whimsically I asked myself whether that heart attack might not have been caused by the initiation of his beautiful blonde wife to the joys of fucking. But then, of course, I recalled that Connie’s name was the same as that of her mistress, that she was still a virgin and the marriage had never been consummated. I myself in the Snuggery had discovered this when I probed a delicate forefinger into the delicate pink lips of her snatch and found that she had actually forfeited her maidenhead, though from the tightness of that delicious orifice, one might properly call her an unfucked maiden.

Well, I promised myself that the next time I found Connie Blunt alone, I should ask her to give me the details of her initiation. Perchance she had lost her maidenhead to someone prior to her marriage for that short time. But knowing her voluptuous beauty and how passionately warm-blooded she was, I felt I could ascribe her husband’s death to the shattering risk he must have felt when his swollen organ reached for the first time the portals of Connie Blunt’s dainty monsveneris. And-if he truly had been the one to press through her virgin seal-feel his organ clamped by the tight, moist walls of her exciting channel.

Yes, it would be at least a fortnight before I could confront Connie with my memories of her first fucking, which Alice had so ingeniously arranged. And a week lay ahead of me until Fannie and Alice would return from a trip which the latter had made to visit an elderly aunt in Nottingham.

But I confess the prospect of sublimating my passions in the way that Onan did was not very enticing, not after all these thrilling adventures which I had enjoyed in my newly created Snuggery, and with which doubtless you are familiar, having read the first book of my memoirs. You remember, I am sure, that I began those memoirs by telling you how I had plotted to get Alice into my power after she had cruelly and unjustifiably jilted me. Then, once I had her in my power, after I had literally unveiled the threshholds of her womanly emotions and compelled her to admit to the ardent lust which burned within her tender maiden quim, she became my most passionate ally as well as lover.

I may say at this point that in my thirties I was given the opportunity which few men at my age achieve-that of living like a retired gentleman. My father had been an importer from Australia who had struck it rich in a shop in London. He had befriended a distinguished son of a still more distinguished and influential banker, when the latter found himself set upon by footpads while adventuring one night in Soho and being set upon by thieves while he himself, rash young man, had been in the pursuit of some bordello beauty for whom he lusted. Without boring you with such lengthy victories, suffice it to say that the young man’s father was so grateful to me for having saved his son from possible injury and certain scandal, that he made known to my father certain advance information concerning debentures and shares and stocks and bonds, which enabled my father to become very comfortably well off. At his death, I, the only heir, received a sizable fortune. Till that time I bad been an assistant in a shipping company office for travel and its glamour fascinated me. When I became the sole heir of my father’s wealth, I first took a trip around the world and then found myself this apartment in London. I had courted lovely Alice fully expecting to wed her, when the fickle wench jilted me, as you know from the first volume of my memoirs.

But now as I faced a week of inertia, I bethought myself of her married sister, Marion. After the break with Alice which led to so happy an outcome for both of us-even she had said that!-she resorted a little way out of London with a married sister and never seemed to come to town except in her sister’s company.

Now I had an interest in this married sister because Alice’s lovely maid, whom you may be sure I fucked with as much gusto as I did Alice herself, had confided to me that Marion had only just a few weeks before separated from her husband, having caught him in flagrante delicto with a milliner’s girl. She had also, Fanny told me, having learned this by listening to her own lovely mistress’s gossip, poisoned Alice’s mind against me and told Alice that I was no husband for her and still less of a lover.

I gave the darling girl a gold sovereign for that piece of news, which I put away at the back of my mind, intending to pursue it and profit from it when opportunity should provide an occasion. The occasion was now!

I knew that now that I had made Alice mine and also made of her a conspiratress against Connie Blunt as well as against Lady Bashe and her daughter Molly, that she could not and would not be too vexed with me if I should initiate Marion into those delicious and exciting pleasures which she herself had come to love. More than that, I foresaw that it could be a tableau of absolutely breathtaking and pulse-stirring triumph. If I could actually make Alice apply love potions to her very own sister in the Snuggery.

The more I considered this, the more I wished, helplessly at first, to enjoy Marion all to myself. And that was when I sent a note by messenger to her quarters in Kingsbridge, about three miles to the south of London, asking that she call upon me two days hence at two in the afternoon, as I had information of great importance to her regarding her future happiness now that her marriage had been concluded.