Anonymous - Pearl

I will send another letter soon, but one thing you must excuse in my rough composition; that is my so often speaking of myself in the third person, which makes it easier to tell my tale.

Yours affectionately,

rosa belinda coote.

(To be continued.)

THE BUDDING ROSE.

(These lines were written to amuse a girl of fifteen. They delighted her mother.)

Wonderful are Cupid's arts!

He, the god of soft persuasion,

At his pleasure stirs our hearts,

To flames of eager passion.

Long I've loved thee, darling Sarah,

Gradually more ripe and blooming;

Daily, hourly, plumper, fairer,

In the swelling charms of woman.

Sarah, when I saw you first,

In the church, at sister's side;

Oh my heart, with ardour burst!

Could I call thee once my bride!

But your father is my foe,

Hating me, so long his friend;

Could he once my passion know,

In thy misery it might end.

But a bonnet and a fan

Are slight tokens of my passion;

Such a girl for such a man

Is a fatal strong temptation.

Happy bonnet! that can cover,

Such a darling, maiden-head;

Happy fan! — a vigorous lover

Should be in your hand instead!

Yesterday you were a child,

Now a blooming blushing virgin;

Female passions warm and wild

Are to actual pleasure urging.

Mr. B — was very cruel,

"Virtue was at last rewarded,"

He obtained the mossy jewel,

Pamela so long had guarded.

Fancy them in bed (and lying,

She beneath, and he above;

Kissing, cuddling, fainting, dying,

In the ecstasies of love!.)

Though he is a horrid sinner,

Pamela forgives the crime,

In again! again he's in her!

Drinking pleasures quite divine!

See! his amorous lips and hands

Fondle all her naked part;

And his upright vigour stands,

In her open ravished heart.

Shirt and shift are off together,

Naked is the sweet embrace;

Not one part's concealed by either,

All's as naked as your face.

Even her modest brother Joseph,

Joseph Andrews with his Fanny;

When they once had got their clothes off,

Had as little shame as any.

Such, dear Sarah, was the pleasure,

Pamela at last enjoyed;

Take them in their fullest measure,

Kissing never, never cloyed.

Oh, if I could once behold you,

Lying (naked on my bed);

In my arms I would enfold you,

I would (take your maidenhead!)

Sarah, live to love and pleasure,

Careless what the grave may say;

When each moment is a treasure,

Why should lovers waste a day?

Setting suns may rise in glory,

But, when little life is o'er,

There's an end of all the story,

We shall live and love no more!

Give me then, ten thousand kisses,

Give me all thy blooming charms;

Give me heavenly, melting blisses,

Lying naked in my arms!

A philosophical dandy thus vented his musings' upon Copulation: "The idea is old; the attitude queer; and the motion fully ridiculous; but all tends to the acme of felicity."

MISSY'S THOUGHTS.

(At a Boys' School.)

I'll tell my mammy when I go home,

The boys won't let my twat alone;

They pull my frock, and beg to see.

What can they want to do with me?

My sister Mary's twice as wild,

For she's fourteen, and I'm a child;

And if they tried to plague her so,

I think what bouncing Moll would do.

But why do the boys all tease me so,

And ask if I have a mouse to show?

They say there's a mouse in Bruce's clothes,

And when he was cuddling me, it rose!

When yesterday, I climbed for pears,

The boys all came to get their shares;

They giggled, and pointed into my slit,

I didn't know they were laughing at it.

The usher pretends to be my friend,

But I don't know where his love will end;

For while he keeps his sober talk,

I catch his fingers under my frock.

They often make me lie down to show

The very inside of my belly below,

I do as they please, because they pay

A shilling among them for the play.

They're not content, though I open wide,

They grope for something or other inside;

You'd think them fools, to see how they kiss,

The smarting hole, by which I piss!

And then they show me all their shames,

And teach me all the nasty names;

I'll tell my mammy when I go home;

The boys won't leave my Cunt alone!

A Brahmin at Madras introduced a relation of his to the Collector, who asked him whether this man was his brother. "No," said he, "he is not my brother, but he is one of my bloody relations."

A sailor on board the Duke of Edinburgh's yacht had a reputation as an impromptu poet. The following was one of his efforts before the Duchess:

He was a bloody sparrow,

Lived up a bloody spout;

There came a bloody thunderstorm,

And washed the bugger out.

But in a bloody minute,

They stopped the bloody rain;

So the bloody little sparrow,

Went up the spout again.

After which, he said: "I don't think much of it myself, marm, but my mates say it's bloody fine."

LADY POKINGHAM, OR THEY ALL DO IT;

Giving an Account of her Luxurious Adventures,

both before and after her Marriage with Lord Crim-Con.

part III.

(Continued.)

The indisposition of the Duchess was a good excuse for all the ladies of the family to retire early, and after having dispensed with the lady's-maids, we met in Lady Montairy's chamber, all attired "en robes de nuit."

Bertha St. Aldegonde was a really splendid woman, a dark brunette of a fully developed figure, prominent dark flashing eyes, and a most sensual chin. Victoria Montairy was also a fine woman, with a very beautiful classic cast of countenance, whilst the darling Corisande seemed more beautiful than ever, for want of ornament, in her spotless chemise de nuit.

Alice and I both kissed her with rapture, which she lovingly responded to.

"Now, what is the programme?" said Alice to Lady Bertha.

"St. Aldegonde and Montairy are both keeping themselves in reserve for the grand ceremony of to-morrow," she replied; "what weak things these men are; as if we wanted to be kept in reserve. Why Victoria and myself never get enough; the more we have the more we seem to require, and the less able they become to satisfy us. Talk about women's rights, they ought to compel husbands to find substitutes, when they can't do it for us."

"Well, if you have a pair of good godemiches, Beatrice and myself will try and satisfy you a little, whilst dear Corisande shall keep us up to the work with a good rod," said Alice.

The godemiches were brought forth, and proved to be of monstrous size, to our ideas; they were made of the finest vulcanized india rubber, beautifully moulded and finished, with all appendages complete; we strapped them on as soon as they were charged with a creamy compound of gelatine and milk. All were stripped to the buff.

Lady Bertha took me on her knee, kissing me lusciously, and handling the dildoe as if it had been alive. "What a fine fellow," she laughed, "but not a bit too large to please me." Meanwhile my fingers were busy, nipping and pinching her clitoris; she glued her lips to mine and fairly sucked my breath away, excited by my touches which had caused quite an erection of her finely developed clitoris. She drew me on to a couch, and I thrust the affair into her already spending cunny; her bottom responded to every shove, whilst I felt the smarting cuts of the birch, which Corisande was applying alternately to myself and Alice; it was most delicious. I responded with all my ardour to the loving caresses of Lady Bertha, who clasped me firmly by the buttocks, whilst with two fingers of the right hand she frigged both my bottom and cunny at once; Alice and her partner were quite forgotten; I thought I had never experienced anything so delicious in my life. The combination of emotions quite carried me away, the lovely woman bounding under me in rapture, our luscious kisses, the warmth and exquisite titillations of my fundament arrangements seemed such an acme of bliss that when I made the godemiche spend into her my own nature seemed to melt into a sea of lubricity.