Venus in India

‘A week or ten days ago, sahib!’

It was plain I could get no information from this man, only one more question and I was done.

‘Is the memsahib quite alone, khansama?’

‘Yes, sahib: she has no one with her, not even an ayah [maid].’

Well! this is wonderful! How often did my young friend who had only gone away this morning, know her? You, gentle reader, with experience, no doubt have your suspicions that all was not right, but for the life of me I could not shake off the firm notion that this woman was not only a lady, but one exceptionally pure and highly connected.

I went back to my seat on the verandah, waiting to be looked at again, and I did not wait long. A slight rustle caught my ear. I looked around and there was my lovely girl showing more of herself. She still looked with the same eager gaze without the sign of a smile on her face. She appeared to be in her petticoats only, and her legs and feet, such lovely, tiny, beautiful feet, and such exquisitely turned ankles, were bare; she had not even a pair of slippers on. A light shawl covered her shoulders and bosom, but did not hide either her full, well-shaped, white arms, her taper waist or her splendid and broad hips. These naked feet and legs inspired me with a sudden flow of desire, in spite of the fact that her lovely face and its wonderful calm yet severe expression had hitherto driven all such thoughts from my mind.

Giacomo Casanova, who certainly is a perfect authority on all that concerns women, declares that curiosity is the foundation on which desire is built, that, but for that, a man would be perfectly contented with one woman, since in the main all women are alike; yet from mere curiosity a man is impelled to approach a woman, and to wish for her possession. Something akin to this certainly influenced me. A devouring curiosity took possession of me. This exquisite girl’s face inspired me to know how she could possibly be all alone here at Nowshera, in a public bungalow, and her lovely naked feet and legs made me wonder whether her knees and thighs corresponded with them in perfect beauty, and my imagination painted in my mind a voluptuous motte and delicious cunt, shaded by dark locks corresponding to the colour of the lovely eyebrows, which arched over those expressive orbs. I rose from my chair and moved towards her. She instantly withdrew and as instantly again opened the chick. For the first time I saw a smile wreathe her face. What a wonderfully different expression that smile gave it! Two lovely dimples appeared in her rounded cheeks, her rosy lips parted and displayed two rows of small perfectly even teeth, and those eyes which had looked so stern and almost forbidding, now looked all tenderness and softness.

‘You must find it very hot out there on the verandah!’ said she, in a low, musical voice, but with a rather vulgar, common accent which at first grated on my ear, ‘and I know you are all alone! Won’t you come into my room and sit down and chat? You will if you are a good fellow!’

‘Thank you!’ said I, smiling and bowing as I threw away my cheroot and entered whilst she held the chick so as to make room for me to pass. I caught the chick in my hand but she still kept her arm raised, and extended; her shawl fell a little off her bosom which was almost entirely bare, and I saw not only two most exquisitely round, full and polished globes of ivory, but even the rosy coral marble which adorned the peak of one of them. I could see that she caught the direction of my glance, but she was in no hurry to lower her arm, and I judged, and rightly, that this liberal display of her charms was by no means unintentional.

‘I have got two chairs in here,’ said she, laughing such a sweet-sounding laugh, ‘but we can sit together on my bed, if you don’t mind!’

‘I shall be delighted,’ said I, ‘if sitting without a back to support you won’t tire you!’

‘Oh!’ said she, in the most innocent manner, ‘you just put your arm round my waist, and then I won’t feel tired.’

Had it not been for the extraordinary innocent tone with which she said this, I think I should at once have lain her back and got on top of her, but a new idea struck me: could she be quite sane? And would not such an action be the very height of blackguardism?

However, I sat down, as she bade me do, and I slipped my left arm around her slender waist and gave her a little hug towards me.

‘Ah!’ she said, ‘that’s right! Hold me tight! I love being held tight!’

I found that she had no stays on at all. There was nothing between my hand and her smooth skin but a petticoat and a chemise, both of very light muslin. She felt so awfully nice! There’s something so thrilling in feeling the warm, palpitating body of a lovely woman in one’s arms; it was only natural that not only did my blood run more quickly, but I began to feel what the French call the ‘pricking of the flesh’. There she was, this really beautiful creature, half naked and palpitating, her cheeks glowing with health, though paler than one is accustomed to seeing in our more temperate Europe, her lovely shining shoulders and bosom almost perfectly naked, and so exquisite! The nearer I got my eyes to the skin the better did I see how fine was its texture. The bloom of youth was on it. There were no ugly hollows to show where the flesh had receded and the bones projected. Her beautiful breasts were round, plump and firm looking. I longed to take possession of those lovely bubbies! To press them in my hand, to devour them and their rosy tips with my mouth! Her petticoats fell between her slightly parted thighs and showed their roundness and beautiful form perfectly as though to provoke my desire the more, desire she must have known was burning me, for she could feel the palpitating of my agitated heart even if a glance of her eyes in another and lower direction did not betray to her the effect her touch and her beauty had on me. She held out one and then the other of her fairy feet, so white and perfect, as though to display them to my eager eyes. The soft and delicious perfume which only emanates from a woman in her youth, stole in fragrant clouds over my face, and her abundant wavy hair fell like silk against my cheek. Was she mad? That was the tormenting thought which would spring up between my hand and the glowing charms it longed to seize!

For some few moments we sat in silence. Then I felt her hand creep up under my white jacket and toy with the buttons to which my braces were fastened behind. She undid one side of my braces and as she did so said, ‘I saw you this morning! You were in a dak gharry and I just caught a glimpse of you.’

Her hand began to work at the other button. What the deuce was she up to?

‘Oh yes!’ I said, looking into her twinkling eyes and returning the starry glances which shot from them, ‘and I saw you too! I had been fast asleep, and just as I opened my eyes my sight fell upon you and I —’

She had unbuttoned my braces behind, and now stole her hand round and laid it, back up, on the top of my thigh.

‘And you what?’ said she, gently sliding her extended fingers down over the inside of my thigh: she was within a nail’s breadth of the side of my prick which was now standing furiously!

‘Oh!’ I exclaimed, ‘I thought I had never seen such a lovely face and figure in the world!’

The fingertips actually touched Johnnie! She slightly pressed them against him, and looking at me again with the sweetest smile, said: ‘Did you really! Well! I’m glad you did, for do you know what I thought, when I saw you lying inside the gharry?’

‘No, dear!’

‘Well! I thought that I would not mind if I had been travelling with such a fine-looking, handsome young man!’

Then after a short pause she continued: ‘So you think me well made?’ and she glanced down proudly on her swelling breast.

‘Indeed I do!’ I exclaimed, quite unable to restrain myself any longer. ‘I don’t know when I ever saw such a lovely bosom as this, and such tempting, luscious bubbies!’ and I slipped my hand into her bosom and seized a glowing globe and as I pressed it gently and squeezed the hard little nipple between my fingers, I kissed the loving upturned mouth which was presented to me.

‘Ah!’ she cried, ‘who gave you leave to do that? Well! Exchange is no robbery and I will have something nice of yours to feel for myself, too!’

Her nimble fingers had my trousers unbuttoned, my braces undone in front too, and with a whisk of her hand she had my shirt out, and with it my burning, maddened prick, of which she took immediate and instant possession.

‘Ah!’ she cried. ‘Ah! oh! what a beauty! How handsome! bell-topped! and so big! Isn’t he just about stiff! He’s like a bar of iron! and what fine big balls you’ve got! My beautiful man! Oh! How I would like to empty them for you! Oh! you’ll have me now! Won’t you? Do! Do! oh I feel that I could come so nicely if you only would!’

Would I have her? Why! Gods in heaven! how could a mortal man brimful of health, strength, youth and energy like myself, receive such an appeal to his ears and senses, and not comply, even if the fair petitioner were not half nor quarter as beautiful as this lascivious and exquisite creature, whose hands were manipulating the most tenderly sensitive parts which man possesses. For all reply I gently pulled her on her back; she still kept a firm but voluptuous hold on her possessions as I turned up her petticoat and chemise. Gliding my burning hand over the smooth surface of her ivory thigh, I uncovered, I think, the most luscious cunt I have ever seen or felt in my life! Never had my hand reposed on so voluptuous and full a motte! Never had my finger probed a charm so full of life and so soft outside, so smooth and velvety inside, as it did now. That this most perfect cunt, and the domain around and above it, were in my possession! I was eager to get between her lovely thighs, to snatch my almost painfully strained prick from her hands and bury it up to its balls, and further, in this melting charm, but she stopped me. With her face and bosom flushed, her eyes dancing in her head, and a voice choked with the greatest excitement she cried: ‘Let us put on our skins first!’

I was standing before her, my prick at an angle of at least seventy degrees, my balls and groins aching, for the most vigorous action had set in and my reservoirs had already been filled to the utmost they could hold. I felt I must either have this beautiful wild girl or burst!

‘What do you mean?’ I gasped.

‘I’ll show you! See!’

And in a moment she had, as it were, jumped out of her clothes, and stood, all naked and glowing, and radiant with a beauty fed by all that is voluptuous and erotic, before me.

In a moment — or perhaps a little longer, for I had boots and socks as well as coat, shirt and trousers to take off, but at all events, in a brace of shakes — I was as naked as she! I can shut my eyes now and there before me see this exquisitely formed creature, surely quite the equal of the beautiful Mademoiselle de Maupin, standing in all her radiant nudity before me. That form so purely perfect, so inimitably graceful, those matchless limbs! That bosom with its hills of living snow topped with rosy fire and that more than voluptuous motte, a perfect ‘hill of Venus’ clothed with the richest dark bushes of curly hair, sloping rapidly down, like a triangle standing on its point, until its two sides, folding in, formed the deep soft-looking inside line which proclaimed the very perfection of a goddess-like cunt. The only thing which slightly marred this perfect galaxy of beauty was the occurrence of some slight wrinkles which, like fine lines, crossed the otherwise perfect plain of her fair belly, that exquisite belly with its dimpling navel!

Gods! I rushed at this lovely creature, and in another moment I was on top of her, between her wide-opened thighs and resting on her beautiful bosom. How elastic did her beautiful bubbies feel against my chest and how soft, how inexpressibly delicious, did her cunt feel, as inch by inch I buried Johnnie in it, until my motte jammed against hers and my balls hung, or rather squeezed, against her lovely white bottom and I could get in no further. And what a woman to have! Every movement of mine brought forth an exclamation of delight from her! To hear her you would have imagined it was the very first time her senses had been powerfully excited from their very foundation! Her hands were never still, they promenaded over me, from the back of my head to the intimate limits of my body to which they could reach. She was simply perfect in the art of giving and receiving pleasure. Every transport of mine was returned with interest. Every mad thrust met with a corresponding buck which had the effect of taking my prick in to its extreme root! And she seemed to do nothing but come or spend! I had heard of a woman ‘coming’ thirteen or fourteen times during one fuck, but this woman seemed to do nothing else from beginning to end. But it was not until I had arrived at the exciting, furious, ardent, almost violent, short digs, that I knew to what an intense degree my Venus enjoyed pleasure! I thought she was in a fit! She almost screamed! She gurgled in her throat! She half crushed me in her arms, and putting her feet on my behind, she pressed me to her motte, at the end, with a power I should never have thought she possessed. Oh! the relief! the exquisite delight of that spend on my part! I inundated her, and she felt the spouting torrents of my love darting in hot quick jets and striking against the deep-set part of her almost maddened cunt! She seized my mouth with hers, and shot her tongue into it as far as she could, touching my throat, whilst her whole body from head to heel literally quivered with the tremendous excitement she was in! Never in my life had I such a fuck! Oh! why is there no better word to express what is really heaven upon earth?

The tempest past, we lay in one another’s arms, tenderly gazing into one another’s eyes. We were too breathless to speak at first. I could feel her belly heaving against mine, and her throbbing cunnie clasped my prick as though it were another hand, whilst her motte leaped and bounded! As I looked into that angelic face, and drank in the intense beauty of it, I believed this to be no abandoned woman but rather Venus herself whom I held thus clasped in my arms, and whose tender and voluptuous thighs encircled mine! I could have wished that she had held her peace and let me dream that I was the much desired Adonis, and she my persistent, longing Venus, and that I had at length complied with her amorous wishes and found the heaven in her arms of which, before I entered her matchless cunt, I had no notion! But my airy fancies were dispelled by her saying: ‘You are a good poke and no mistake! Oh! You know how to fuck! No fellow ever fucks like that without he has been taught!’

‘Yes!’ I said, pressing her in my arms and kissing the ruby lips which had just spoken so coarsely, albeit truly and pointedly. ‘I have been well trained! I had good lessons in my boyhood, and I have always tried to practise them as often as possible!’

‘Ah!’ she said, ‘I thought so! You do the heel and toe better than any man I’ve ever had, and I’ve had, I dare say, many more men than you’ve had women!’

Frank and how!

‘What do you mean by heel and toe, my pet?’

‘Oh! Don’t you know? You do it at any rate! and splendidly! Heel and toe is to begin each stroke at the very beginning and end it at the very end. Just give me one long stroke now!’ I did so. I withdrew until my prick was all but out of her panting cunnie, and then gently but firmly drove it home, as far and as deep as I could, and then I rested again on her belly.

‘There,’ she cried, ‘that’s it! You almost pull it out, but not quite, and never stop short in your thrusts, but send your prick home, with a sharp rap of your balls against my bottom! That’s what’s good!’

And she appeared to smack her lips involuntarily.

At length I withdrew and my fairest nymph at once commenced a most minute examination of that part of me and its appendages which had pleased her so much. Everything was, according to her, absolutely perfect, and if I were to believe her there had not passed under her observation so noble and handsome a prick, and such beautiful well-balanced balls as I had. That she was the mistress of my balls especially pleased her! She said they were so big! She was sure they must be full of spend, and she intended, she told me, to empty them before she would consent to my leaving Nowshera!

This first sacrifice simply whetted our appetites, and still more inflamed with the minute examination of one another’s charms, we fell to again, and writhed in the delicious agonies of another amorous combat! It was about two o’clock before I left her, and we had not been at any time more than ten minutes ‘out of action’. The more I had of this exquisite creature, the more I longed to have her. I was fresh, young, strong, vigorous, and it was nearly two months (a long time for me) since I had last indulged in the delights of Cyprian pleasures. No wonder my Venus was pleased with me, and called my performance a perfect feast.

They say that love destroys appetite for food. Perhaps it does when it is love unrequited, but I give you my word, dear reader, that I was ravenous for my tiffin after my morning’s work. I was really glad to get something to eat. What with the heat of the combat we had been through and the parching effect of the terrible hot winds blowing, I was dried up, as far as my mouth was concerned, though far from being so as regards the proceeds of my balls. I never felt so fit for woman as I did that day, and I never probably have had so much fucking with so little loss of physical force. Doubtless my steady married life with its regular hours, regular meals and regular, never excessive, sacrifices on the altar of Venus had much to do with the steady power I felt so strong in me, but over and above that was the fact of my new lady love being extraordinarily beautiful and voluptuously lascivious, and the erotic excitement raised in me, was, of course, great in proportion to the cause which gave birth to it. In spite of my hunger for food, I would certainly have remained with her on that most congenial of beds and have revelled on in her joyous arms and filled her with more of the quintessence of my manly vigour, but she told me she always slept in the afternoon, was hungry herself, and wanted my force to be expended between her lovely thighs that night for the solace of her liveliest of cunts!

Whilst the khansama was laying the table, I saw a note addressed to me leaning against the wall, on the mantelpiece (for in northern India the winters are sharp enough to render a fire not only pleasant but sometimes quite necessary), and taking it and opening it, wondering who the writer could be as I was perfectly unknown in this part of the world, I found it to be from my young officer friend who had quit Nowshera that morning. It ran thus:

Dear Devereaux — In the room next to yours is one of the loveliest of women and best of pokes! Verbum sap.!