Charles Devereaux - Venus in India

I went gently and noiselessly in, and passing round to the other side of the bed, so that my shadow might not fall on that exquisite form and hide the light, already softened by the chick , from it, I gazed in silent rapture on the beautiful girl who had made me enjoy the bliss of the Mohammedan’s heaven in her voluptuous embraces that forenoon. How lovely was her sleep! Who, looking on that face so pure in all its lines, so innocent in all its expressions, could imagine that in that soul there burned the fire of an unquenchable Cytherian furnace? Who, looking on those matchless breasts, could imagine that lovers innumerable had pressed them with lascivious hand or lip, and been supported by them when they trembled in the agonies and the delight of having her? The fair broad plane of her belly was still hidden by the upper portion of her petticoats, but the fine lines, which I had noticed when she ‘put on her skin’, had told me the tale that perhaps more than once it had been the breeding place of little beings, who, cast in such a beauteous mould, must needs be as beautiful as their lovely mother! Who, gazing in the girlish face and looking at those virginal breasts which seemed as if they had never been disturbed by pent-up milk and whose rosebud-like nipples seemed never to have been sucked by the cherry lips of babies, could connect such charms with the pains, the cares and duties of maternity? No! surely, like the fair houris of Mohammed’s paradise, she must have been created for the fulfilment of pleasure only, not for the consequences of the kiss of love! But the wrinkles told a different tale, and I should like to examine them more closely. It would be easy to do if only they were exposed; all that I had to do was to lift, gently so as not to disturb her sleep, that part of her petticoat which still hid her there, and lay the garment back upon her waist.

With a hand trembling with excitement, I did so! Lo! my nymph was almost as naked as she was born! God of gods! What a blaze of exciting beauty! I had uncovered the sweet belly to look at the wrinkles, but my eye was captured before it lifted its gaze so high! As the bird is caught in the snare surrounding the luscious bait exposed to it, so were my eyes entangled in the meshes of that glorious forest-like bush growing on that voluptuous motte and shading a cunt the like of which for freshness, beauty and all that excites desire could not have existed in anybody but the great Mother of Love, Venus herself. It seemed to me impossible that this beauteous portal to the realms of bliss could have been invaded by so many worshippers as her speech of the morning had led me to believe. It looked far from having been hard used. What grand full lips it had. How sweetly it was placed. How pretty did the fine, dark hairs which crossed it look against the whiteness of the skin, whose infoldings formed that deep enticing line. What a perfect forest overshadowed it, and how divine were the slopes of that glorious hill, the perfect little mountain, which led down the sweet descent to the deep vale between her thighs, and ended in that glowing grotto in which love delighted to hide his blushing head and shed the hot tears of his exulting joy.

But what is that? What is that little ruby tip I see beginning to protrude, near the upper meeting of those exquisite lips which open slightly showing the pearly mouth! She moves. See! I think she must be dreaming! She slightly closes the bent leg towards that one outstretched! It is her most sensitive clitoris, as I live! See! It grows more and more! and by the gods! it actually moves in little jerks, just like an excited prick standing stiff and mad at the thoughts of hot desire!

I gazed at the tranquil face of the sleeping beauty; her lips moved and her mouth opened slightly showing the pearly teeth! Her bosom seemed to expand, her breasts to swell: they rose and fell more rapidly than they had been doing before this evident dream of love, fulfilled or about to be, invaded the soft heart of this perfect priestess of Venus! Ah! her bubbies do move! Their rosebuds swell out, they stand, each like an eager sentinel perched on the snowy tip of his own mountain, watching for the loving foe who is to invade this dreaming girl in a soft and sharp and hot encounter.

Again those thighs close on one another. Heavens! again they open to show the domain of love, excited, moving, leaping, actually leaping! That glittering ruby clitoris is evidently striving to feel the manly prick of which my charmer dreams. Why not turn the dream into a sweet and luscious reality?

I do not hesitate. I swiftly strip and in a moment I am as naked as I had been that morning, but I would like to see whether, as when I raped my cousin Emily, my second love, I could actually get into this sleeping girl before she woke to find me in her glowing cunt.

So I gently got over the thigh next to me and, with knees between hers, supported myself upon my hands, one on each side of her, while, stretching out my legs backward, I kept my eyes fixed on the sweet and burning cunnie I intended to invade. I lowered my body until I brought the head and point of my agitated and jerking prick exactly opposite its lower half, and then I manoeuvred it in!

Gods! The voluptuousness of that moment! I could see myself penetrating that seat of love and luxury! I could feel the cap fall back from the tingling head of my prick and fold behind its broad purple shoulders! For a moment I glanced at her face to see if she had perceived the gallant theft I was making of her secret jewel! No! She was asleep, but in the excitement of an erotic dream! Little by little I pressed in further and further, only withdrawing to give her more pleasure. I am nearly all in — her thick and lofty bush hides the last inch or so of my prick from my eyes, our hairs commingle, my balls nudge her and she wakes with a start!

In a moment her eyes met mine with that keen, almost wild glance, which had so impressed me when I saw her out of the gharry , but in a moment they changed and beamed with pleasure and affectionate caresses.

‘Ah! Is it you?’ she cried. ‘I was dreaming of you! You darling man to wake me so sweetly!’

Some burning kisses, some close, close hugs, some little exclamations of delight, and then breast to breast, belly to belly, mouth to mouth, we play for the ninth or tenth time, I really don’t know which, that same excited tune which had sounded all that morning so melodiously to our ravished senses. Heel and toe, as she called it, and other delicious movements mingled every part, then hot, quick, thrilling short digs and the torrents of two volcanoes of love burst forth simultaneously and mingled their lava floods in the hot recesses buried below the sylvan slopes of the hill of Venus.

The ghurry or gong, on which the non-commissioned officers of the guard sound the hour of the day in India, rang five o’clock. We had been in intense action nearly a whole hour, and my charming beauty was for the fifteenth time examining what she called my ‘wonderful’ prick and balls — wonderful, because the first showed no symptoms of fatigue, and the second no sign of exhaustion or depletion.

‘I don’t believe this can be a proper prick at all!’ said she feeling it, pressing it, and kissing its impudent-looking head, first on one side and then on the other.

‘Why?’ I asked laughing.

‘Because it’s always stiff as a poker — always standing!’

‘That is because it admires your delicious cunt so much, my darling, and it is always in a hurry to get back into it after it has been taken out!’

‘Well! I never saw one like it before! All other men that I have had always grew soft and limp after the second go if not the first — and generally took a good deal of coaxing to get to stand again, unless one gave them lots of time! But yours! I never, never, met one like it! It will give me a lot of trouble, I can see, to take all the starch out of it!’