Kate Percival - The Life and Amours of the Beautiful, Gay and Dashing Kate Percival, The Belle of the Delaware (Kate Percival) (Literary Thoughts Edition)

I have said that up to the age of seventeen I had never experienced the slightest sexual desire. The spark of voluptuousness which has ever since burnt so fiercely in my breast was destined to be lighted up by one of my own sex. Yes, dear Laura, it was you who first taught me the delights and joys of love; it was you who first kindled that flame of desire that has caused me to experience twelve years of delirious bliss; it was to your gentle teaching, sweet friend, that I owe my initiation in all the mysteries of the Court of Venus; it was your soft hand that pointed out to me that path of pleasure—and all the delight shown on the wayside. The incident happened in this manner:

About three months before I left school we were told one morning that a new music and French teacher would take her abode in B— Seminary the next day. We were all extremely anxious to see her, and at the expected hour she made her appearance. Her name was Laura Castleton, and her father lived in St. Mary's County, Maryland. She was a brunette, about twenty years of age, and one of the most beautiful girls I ever saw. She was nearly as tall as myself, but considerably stouter, and her body was molded in a most exquisite manner. Although her eyes were very black and her hair like the raven's plume, her skin was as white as alabaster. Her teeth were as regular as if they had been cut of a solid piece of ivory, and her hands and feet were fairylike in their proportions. I was the eldest girl in the school and Laura immediately made me her companion. She was exceedingly intelligent, well educated, and well read. I was soon attracted to her and we became inseparable. We would pass all our spare time reading to each other or in conversation on literary subjects. I agreed to love her with my whole heart, and was never happy outside of her company.

"Laura," I said to her one day when we were walking on the playground with our arms around each other's waist, "why can't we sleep together?"

"Would you like it, Kate?" she asked, bending her black eyes upon my face with a peculiar gloom in them which sent the blood rushing to my cheeks—but why and wherefore I did not know.

"Indeed I would, Laura. It would be so nice to lie in your arms all night."

"Well, darling, I will ask Mrs. B—. I have no doubt that she will give her consent."

The lovely girl drew me towards her and gave me a warmer kiss than she had ever before bestowed upon me. The contact of her easy lips to mine sent an indefinable thrill through my body which I had never experienced before. In the evening she informed me that she had spoken to Mrs. B—and that the latter had consented that we should sleep together. I was overjoyed at this news and longed for night to come so that I might recline in my darling's arms.

At last the hour of bedtime arrived and I followed Laura to her chamber. She put the lamp on the dressing table and, kissing me affectionately, bade me undress myself quickly. We began our toilette for the night. I was undressed first, and having put on my nightgown, I sat down on the side of the bed and watched Laura disrobing herself. After she had removed her dress and her petticoats, I could not help being struck with her resplendent charms. Her chemise had fallen off her shoulder, beautifully rounded, and two globes of alabaster reposing on a field of snow. She appeared to be entirely unaware that I was watching her, for she sat down on a chair exactly in front of me, and crossing one leg over the other, she began to remove her garters and stockings. This attitude raised her chemise in front, and allowed me to have a full view of her magnificently formed limbs. I even caught sight of her voluptuous thighs. Laura caught my eye.

"What are you gazing at so earnestly?" she asked.

"I am gazing at your beauties, Laura."

"One would think that you were my lover," returned Laura laughingly.

"So I am, dear—for you know I love you."

"You little witch you, you know well enough what I mean. But if you want to admire beauty, why not look in the glass, for I am not nearly as beautiful as you are, dear Kate."

"What nonsense, Laura," I replied, "but come, let us get into bed."

So saying, I jumped between the sheets and was followed almost immediately by Laura, who first, however, placed the lamp on a chair by the bedside. She clasped me in her arms and pressed me to her breast, while she kissed my lips, cheek and eyes passionately. The warmth of her embraces and her glowing limbs entwined in mine caused a strange sensation to steal through me. My cheeks burned and I returned her kisses with an ardor that equalled her own.

"How delightful it is to be in your arms, dear Laura," I exclaimed.

"Do you really like it?" she replied, pressing me still closer to her. At the same time our nightdresses became disarranged, and I felt her naked thighs pressing against mine.

Laura kissed me again with even greater warmth than before, and while she was thus engaged she slipped one of her soft hands in the opening of my night-chemise, and I felt it descend on one of my breasts. When I felt this, a trembling seized my limbs and I pressed her convulsively to my heart.

"What a voluptuous girl you are, Kate," she said, molding my breasts and titillating my nipples. "You set me on fire."

"I never felt so happy in my life, Laura. I could live and die in your arms."

I now carried my hand to her globes of alabaster and pressed and molded them, imitating her in all her actions. Nay, more, I turned down the bedclothes and, unbuttoning her nightdress in front, I exposed those charming, snowy hillocks to my delighted gaze. The light of the lamp shone directly upon them, and I was never tired of admiring the whiteness, firmness and splendid development of those glowing semiglobes. I buried my face between them and pressed a thousand kisses on the soft velvet surface.

"Why Kate, you are a perfect volcano," said Laura, trembling under my embraces, "and I have been laboring under the delusion that you were an icicle."

"I was an icicle, darling, but now I have been melted by your charms."

"What a happy man your husband will be," said Laura.

"Happy-why?"

"To enfold such a glorious creature as you in his embrace. If you take so much delight with one of your own sex, what will you do when clasped in a man's arms?"

"You are jesting, Laura. Do you suppose for a moment that I will ever allow a man to kiss and embrace me as you do?"

"Certainly, my love—he will do a great deal more than I do."

"More? What can you mean?"

"Is it possible, Kate, that you do not know?"

"I really do not know. Do tell me, there's a dear girl."

"I can scarcely believe it possible that you are seventeen years of age—a perfectly developed woman, and that you know nothing of the mysteries of love. Are you not aware, darling, that you possess a jewel about you that a man would give half his lifetime to ravish?"

"You speak in riddles, Laura. Where is this jewel?"

"Lie perfectly quiet, and I will show you where it is."

My cheeks burned and I was all aglow, for I had pretended to be more ignorant than I really was. Laura fastened her lips on my breast and placed her hand on one of my thighs. She then slowly carried it up the marble column and at last invaded the very sanctuary of love itself. When I felt her fingers roaming in the mossy covering of that hallowed spot, every moment growing more bold and enterprising, I could not help uttering a faint scream—it was the last cry of expiring modesty, and I grew as hardy and lascivious as my beautiful companion. I stretched my thighs open to their widest extent, the better to second the examination Laura was making of my person. The lovely girl appeared to be strangely affected while she was manipulating my secret charms. Her eyes shot fire, her bosom heaved, and she began to wiggle her bottom. For some time she played with the hair which thickly covered my mount of Venus—twisting it around her fingers, she then gently divided the folding lips and endeavored to penetrate the interior of the mystical grotto—but she could not effect an entrance but was obliged to satisfy herself with titillating the inside of the lips. Suddenly flows of pleasure shot through my entire body—for her finger had come in contact with the peeping sentinel that guarded the abode of bliss, an article which until that moment I did not know I possessed. She rubbed it gently, giving me the most exquisite pleasure. If the last remnant of prudery had not taken flight before, this last act would have routed it completely. With a single jerk I threw off the bedclothes, and thus we both lay naked from the waist down.