LETTER VII
At last, the day arrived when my beloved Louisa and I were to proceed to her father's house. We had purposely named to all our friends in Paris the day before that on which we were really expected at her home so that we might stay on the road and have one last night of uninterrupted indulgence in our passionate love of each other.
We fixed upon the pretty village of Rosny, not far from the Vernon Station, for the place of our last delicious sole enjoyment of our lascivious revels in love's domains.
We had a pleasant run down to Vernon. I had been there myself before to choose our quarters and had found a nice, clean country auberge, the landlord himself being the cook. A carriage was waiting for us, and a very nice dinner was served up shortly after our arrival. We had, however, already improved the occasion, and had one delicious gamahuche, followed by an exquisite fuck which, combined with our journey, so sharpened the appetites that we did ample justice to the really good dinner set before us.
Being a delicious summer evening, we got permission from our landlord to stroll through the very pretty ornamental grounds of the Chateau de Rosny, formerly in the possession of the Duchesse de Berry. We found a delightful terrace, at least half a mile long, overlooking the River Seine, charming bouquets, and at the far end a sort of pavilion summer-house, with divans around two sides.
Louisa suggested that these had doubtless often been used by the lecherous duchess, who was well-known for her varied amours, and giving me a lascivious glance, fairly invited me to rival those who had been there before. I was already about to propose the very thing and, as the low height of the couches, as well as their breadth, suggested a kneeling position, Louisa knelt down. I turned up her clothes well over her back, and the whole beauty of her glorious arse became exposed to my ardent gaze. I stooped and gamahuched her, but she was already so excited with her reminiscences of the duchess's loves, that I had hardly got my tongue fairly on her clitoris before she spent profusely. Giving one good lick up, I left the greater portion to lubricate the passage and, bringing my stiff-standing prick to the entrance, I rubbed it up and down the lips preparatory to a plunge at once up to the hilt. Dear Louisa gave a scream of delight as she felt the glowing mass plowed its way violently forward until my belly came with a rush against her splendid buttocks. I begged her to frig herself, as I should otherwise lose the delightful view of her glorious arse in all the amorous action she so deliciously exercised when love's dart was buried in her rapture-giving cunt; besides which, my upright position enabled me to frig her charming arsehole, and thus add to the pleasure my straining prick was yielding to her cunt. There never was a more imaginative creature than my darling Louisa. She cried out,
'Harry, my love, call me your darling Duchess, and I will call you my Deutz.' (The Jewish lover who was supposed to be the real father of the Count de Chambord, and who afterward, from jealousy, was her betrayer in Brittany.)
I immediately complied, and the dear girl lent herself to the deception and, I really believe, spent twice more than she otherwise would have done. Certain it is that she went off at once with a scream of delight when I cried out,
'Oh! My beloved Duchess, my adored Caroline, do you feel your Deutz's prick up to the hilt in your royal cunt?'
My continued action, and the keeping up of the deception, soon excited her again into a state of the wildest lust, and she spent profusely a second time. I purposely held myself in, so that I was enabled to get her once more so excited that when I was ready to come we both simultaneously spent together-I crying out,
'My adored Duchess, do you feel the torrent of sperm I am driving into your royal interior?'
'Yes, oh yes! My darling Deutz, shove your glorious prick into my cunt as far it will go, bollocks and all, if possible.'
The dear girl, in the extremity of her salacious lust, gave me such excessive pressures with her great power in that way that I felt nerved at once to further efforts, and after a few pushes more in her delicious cunt, I suddenly withdrew and plunged into the smaller aperture of her stupendous arse. She met my plunge with a backward push, so that belly and buttocks met with a shock most exciting.
'Ah! That is it, darling Deutz, you know my arsehole is for you alone. His Royal Highness the Duke has never been allowed entrance that way-so it is all your own. But frig me, dear Deutz, and shove a finger or two up my cunt.'
In this way, my darling Louisa doubly enjoyed our libidinous pastime. Again thrice did she yield the sweet nectar of her spunk before I was ready to meet her in the ecstatic crisis?
After soaking in bliss for some minutes I withdrew, and the dear angel, turning quickly round before I could put my prick into my trousers seized it in her mouth and sucked it clean, declaring that it was sweeter than ever, and had given her the most exquisite delight in her assumed character.
We recommenced our stroll, enjoying the exquisite beauty of the evening. The moon had risen and increased the charm of the scene. We lingered on, listening to the chorus of the nightingales. We turned in to one of the shady bowers and sat down to enjoy the harmony. Dear Louisa thought, from the commodious and comfortable lounging seats, that this too must have witnessed the loves of the amorous duchess, and asked if her Deutz would not again embrace her.
'Ah! My beloved Caroline, ever and at all times your royal cunt is dear to me.'
And precipitating myself into her arms, she drew out my ready standing prick, and we had another delicious fuck, the dear girl's fancy exciting her so much that she declared it made her spend continuously.
Notwithstanding these preliminary exercises, we nevertheless managed to run six courses during the night and morning. We were in no hurry to rise, as we were not expected to be at Rouen before four o'clock. The dear creature excelled herself in all the libidinous contrivances to excite and keep alive our powers of fucking and enjoyment of every lustful idea. She must have spent more than twice as often as I did.
We were fortunate in finding an empty coupe in the train, of which we took possession and, before arriving at Rouen, had made it a boudoir of love, and twice sacrificed to Priapus on both his loved altars.
Louisa had told me it would be necessary to be on our guard at her home. She told me she could manage somehow or other for us to meet occasionally, but I must leave it to her to give me the signal when that could be the case.
We found her brother Frederick waiting with the carriage for us. Their greeting was most affectionate and warm. I found him a very-handsome, well-built young man and strikingly like his sister. Louisa introduced me. He was most frank in his address and said he was delighted to make my acquaintance, as he had long wished to see me from the frequent mention his sister had made of me in her letters home.
We had an enjoyable drive of about an hour and a half from Rouen to their father's house, which was beautifully situated on one of the well-wooded, rolling hills of the neighbourhood.
We reached the house for half an hour before dinner. Papa and Mamma, and a younger sister Sophie, as lovely as Hebe, was at the door to receive us.
Harry
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Notes;
1. During my visit to London for studies where we had an Old Ancestral Home, I stumbled on a family treasure. Apart from other things I also found a hump of books, diaries, and notes in the treasure which contained classic, Age-old, Erotic books, Novels, and Magazines probably collected by my Ancestors. They are all timeless and precious. They are a must-read for all erotica lovers.
2. The Original Authors of these Stories/Letters or Articles are long dead or Anonymous.
3. Out of the aforesaid collection, presenting an amazing account which was first published 1874, of a sexually omnivorous photographer on the prowl in Paris (probably the first such book).
4. The letters were written by a friend, Mr. Harry from Paris. Harry Hargrove, photographer. Young, beautiful women come to Harry's studio to have their portrait taken, but while there, one thing leads to another, and randy Harry's life becomes one big Parisian orgy. Before internet porn, before porn videos, before porn movies, people lusting for raunchy, X-rated entertainment read pornographic books and magazines. Victorian and Edwardian England had its own adult entertainment industry - countless erotic novels were put out by shady publishers, some books were printed by the authors themselves, and most of the writers were anonymous. Many of these 19th-century books are surprisingly kinky, and some of them may be quite offensive to modern-day readers - in more ways than one. The anonymously written "Letters from a Friend in Paris" was first published in 1874. This novel in the form of letters is a great example of classic Victorian erotica.
5. All characters may be read as of more than age of 18 years.
6.. My sincere apologies to the author of the Novel and readers for editing, or modifying the underage content, if any, to make it suitable for publishing in Modern times.
Continued
