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“You read with a most delightful voice, Miss Sherwood,” complimented Lord Devon.
Deana continued, but felt her face redden with each word. “’Then his grand movement, which seemed to rise out of a thicket of curling hair that spread from the root all round thighs and belly up to the navel, stood stiff and upright, but of a size to frighten me, by sympathy, for the small tender part which was the object of its fury, and which now lay exposed to my fairest view; for he had, immediately on stripping off his shirt, gently pushed her down on the couch, which stood conveniently to break her willing fall. Her thighs were spread out to their utmost extension, and discovered between them the mark of the sex, the red-centered cleft of flesh, whose lips, vermilioning inwards, exprest a small rubid line in sweet miniature, such as Guido's touch of colouring could never attain to the life or delicacy of.’”
She paused. Rockwell was looking at her in interest.
“Pray, continue,” he said.
She looked at the words. She had had no idea the novel was so explicit.
“’Phoebe, at this gave me a gentle jog, to prepare me for a whispered question: whether I thought my little maidenhead was much less? But my attention was too much engrossed, too much enwrapped with all I saw, to be able to give her any answer.
“’By this time the young gentleman had changed her posture from lying breadth to length-wise on the couch: but her thighs were still spread, and the mark lay fair for him, who now kneeling between them, displayed to us a side-view of that fierce erect machine of his, which threatened no less than splitting the tender victim, who lay smiling at the uplifted stroke, nor seemed to decline it. He looked upon his weapon himself with some pleasure, and guiding it with his hand to the inviting slit, drew aside the lips, and lodged it, after some thrusts, which Polly seemed even to assist, about half way...’”
Her whole body felt warm with embarrassment. She glanced at Lord Devon, who wore a most pleased expression. His trousers had tented at the crotch. Deana quickly looked back at the book.
“Read it...slower,” Rockwell said.
She took in a deep breath.
“’But there it stuck, I suppose from its growing thickness: he draws it again, and just wetting it with spittle, re-enters, and with ease sheathed it now up to the hilt, at which Polly gave a deep sigh, which was quite another tone than one of pain; he thrusts, she heaves, at first gently, and in a regular cadence; but presently the transport began to be too violent to observe any order or measure; their motions were too rapid, their kisses too fierce and fervent for nature to support such fury long: both seemed to me out of themselves: their eyes darted fires: "Oh! . . . oh! . . .. I can't bear it . . . It is too much . . . I die . . . I am going . . .." were Polly's expressions of extasy: his joys were more silent; but soon broken murmurs, sighs heart-fetched, and at length a dispatching thrust, as if he would have forced himself up her body, and then motionless languor of all his limbs, all showed that the die-away moment was come upon him; which she gave signs of joining with, by the wild throwing of her hands about, closing her eyes, and giving a deep sob, in which she seemed to expire in an agony of bliss.’”
“I say!” Devon exclaimed. “You are a natural, Miss Sherwood! Such emotion! Such flare!”
Deana looked at Isabella, from her parted lips and glassy eyes, seemed to be in a daze. She looked next at Rockwell.
“I concur with Lord Devon,” he said, his stare upon her quite intense. “Well done.”
Suddenly she wished she were very much alone with him. The passage had aroused her, and she wanted the ability to express it with him.
“Lady Isabella, you’re next!” Devon said. “Though it shall be no small feat to best Miss Sherwood’s abilities.”
Her ladyship frowned at this and looked upon Deana as if she, and not Lord Devon, had made the offending statement.
“But I insist you read one of my preferred passages,” Devon said, taking the book and flipping through the pages till he found what he wanted.
Book in hand, Isabella cleared her throat.
“ ‘No sooner then was this precious substitute of my mistress's laid down, but she, who was never out of her way when any occasion of lewdness presented itself, turned to me, embraced and kissed me with great eagerness. This was new, this was odd; but imputing it to nothing but pure kindness, which, for aught I knew, it might be the London way to express in that manner, I was determined not to be behind hand with her, and returned her the kiss and embrace, with all the fervor that perfect innocence knew.
“’Encouraged by this, her hands became extremely free, and wandered over my whole body, with touches, squeezes, pressures, that rather warmed and surprised me with their novelty, than they either shocked or alarmed me.
“’The flattering praises she intermingled with these invasions, contributed also not a little to bribe my passiveness; and, knowing no ill, I feared none, especially from one who had prevented all doubt of her womanhood by conducting my hands to a pair of breasts that hung loosely down, in a size and volume that full sufficiently distinguished her sex, to me at least, who had never made any other comparison ...’”
In her attempt to outdo her predecessor, Isabella tended toward the dramatic. Her voice was sultry, but she read with such exaggerated emphasis that her performance overpowered the words.
“’I lay then all tame and passive as she could wish, whilst her freedom raised no other emotions but those of a strange, and, till then, unfelt pleasure. Every part of me was open and exposed to the licentious courses of her hands, which, like a lambent fire, ran over my whole body, and thawed all coldness as they went.
“’My breasts, if it is not too bold a figure to call so two hard, firm, rising hillocks, that just began to show themselves, or signify anything to the touch, employed and amused her hands a-while, till, slipping down lower, over a smooth track, she could just feel the soft silky down that had but a few months before put forth and garnished the mount-pleasant of those parts, and promised to spread a grateful shelter over the seat of the most exquisite sensation, and which had been, till that instant, the seat of the most insensible innocence. Her fingers played and strove to twine in the young tendrils of that moss, which nature has contrived at once for use and ornament.
“’But, not contented with these outer posts, she now attempts the main spot, and began to twitch, to insinuate, and at length to force an introduction of a finger into the quick itself, in such a manner, that had she not proceeded by insensible gradations that inflamed me beyond the power of modesty to oppose its resistance to their progress, I should have jumped out of bed and cried for help against such strange assaults.’”
The imagery that danced in Deana’s mind surprised her. She had never imagined a woman being fondled by another woman before. She felt extremely flustered.
“I vow I have never enjoyed the work more,” Devon declared. Lust flamed in his countenance as his gaze fell upon Deana.
“I think I should like to stroll near the stream to stretch my limbs,” Deana said, rising to her feet. She had a great need to cool the heat in her body and wished she had brought a fan to aid in that effort.
Chapter Thirteen
