tagLetters & TranscriptsA Letter from Old India

A Letter from Old India

bybattleaxe_babe©

Nagapatnam -- India, 23rd May, 1702

Dear Husband,

I sincerely hope this letter finds you in good health; please reward the boy who took it to you as generously as it is appropriate.

The Marquis and his wife are wonderful hosts, as if there was need to add anything to the beauty and life of India.

From the window of the room where they have gently allowed me to stay, I can see the port. It is fascinating to follow the trades, ships approaching and mooring, strong young boys carrying all sorts of goods on wobbly planks, the yells of merchants. I dare say the Doctor blessed me with his recommendation to move here, what a spell of fortune!

Taking a stroll is a pleasure to the senses; they can only be tickled by all the colors of exotic fruits, scents of teas and spices, visions of well-muscled boys used to hard labor.

No woman of a noble family would be allowed so close to these brutes in Rotterdam, at what a loss. Our long nightgowns, silent companions hiding missed pleasures, are nothing more than a miserable excuse. Etiquette! As if we lived on rules, could you imagine animals mating under blankets or hidden in the dark of nights? Yet we hide our bodies and forget our pleasures for the sake of rules, marital duties. As if your clumsy fumbling once a month could compare to a strong pounding.

Women of all origins wait for the sailors in the poor barracks at the end of the pier, but they do also in the rich palaces, their white thighs showing to the sun as they lift their gowns to attract customers. When a sailor picks a woman they sometime retire in her room, but not always. Many a time I witnessed their wild mating. Behind a tree, she would bend over a rice sack and the sailor would expose her flesh to the sun, sometimes she would be young and fresh as a rose, sometimes she would be old and wrinkled, it never seemed to make a difference to the sailor, which would still penetrate her with his hard manhood and pound her hard. Oh the screams. Why has our intercourse always been so silent? Silence is decency, as we say, but with silence in the dark of nights, how many pleasures are forbidden to us.

She screams in pleasure just as much as he grunts, his blows get harder and faster as he approaches his pleasure, her eyes are often closed and she grips to the sack, or any surface available. Her head arches back and her body shudders as pleasure runs through her in waves.

At that point I would often run away, my cheeks blushing and my heart pumping so quickly in my chest. Behind a wall I would often feel a tingling between my legs and feel tempted to do what my lovely nurse taught me was immoral since my earliest days. Hopeless to get a pleasure denied to our social rank I would stay immobile until my heart would slow down and I could resume my usual composure.

Now I have a confession, dear Husband, because I could not go on another day with this secret in my heart.

My imagination ran wild at the image of the sailor and the prostitute. So wild that one night I woke up in a state of excitement, my breasts were pointing up through my nightgown. I was feeling so hot and opened the curtains to let the moonlight enter my room. So I stood for a moment, in front of the open window overlooking the seaport and I watched the people on the road. A few gentlemen who, I guess, had lost their way and were rushing home. Also less respectable women with their shorter gowns, showing their legs bare under clouds of white undergarments. Their breasts were being pushed high and revealed enough to show a hint of nipple, what generous beauties and what a waste to have kept mine jailed under these strict clothes.

One of the women must have heard my sighs and staring up at me she pronounced words I could never repeat here but which were a challenge, or an invitation, to step out of the strictness of our lives. In a place so different from our dear home country we ought to be different too, so taken by an unspeakable courage I left my hosts asleep in their quiet dreams and I dressed up and headed out in the darkness.

As you can imagine, my clothes are suitable to the respectable woman I have always been. So I used a few pins to lift the edge of my skits and a few buttons went forgotten. I felt so naughty walking without a corset, so pleasantly wrong as I silently closed the door behind my back. Even in this tropical place the fresh hair of the night made me feel even hotter, my bare skin exposed to the cold shone to the moon. I could hardly hide being a noble woman but still hoped to find relief for the burning passion I had inside.

I walked briskly past a row of rich houses and headed directly to the seaport; even late at night there were lanterns in every tavern and brothel to call the sailors. The seaport was always awake, ships coming and going at every hour of the day and night. I wished I had the courage to enter one of those taverns of sin, but no, that was not for me. So I resorted to standing close to a tree, that same tree which witnessed the sailor giving the prostitute that hard pounding. I remember standing in that place of sin for so little, but even in the semidarkness I had attracted someone's attention.

Two lads around eighteen years of age had clearly seen my shadow and were walking to me quickly, both fairly tall and slim but with well muscled bodies and I could guess from their clothes they were ordinary seamen, perfect. As they walked closer I noticed the smaller fellow must have been a little younger, maybe just a sixteen years old cabin boy, he looked rather reluctant to approach me as he was standing a step behind his companion. Instead the other walked boldly to my side revealing a mop of dark blonde hair and naughty eyes as he handed me a few coins.

Good heavens! Could you imagine? I blushed so heavily he must have thought I was odd; as an answer he pushed the money right in my hands. Even being moved by that state of excitement I have told you earlier I was still surprised and was not sure how to respond to that act.

The older lad took my hand and without saying a word he dragged me away from the tree, into a barrack. It was a warehouse, barely a wooden shelter to pile up goods before departing, with little space available.

With little ceremonies the older lad pushed me to lay on a stack of wooden tables. My heart was beating so quickly and his hands grabbed the bottom of my skirts with no hesitation lifting them over my back, exposing my bare behind.

The younger fellow, who stayed in a corner just until that time suddenly appeared on front of me offering his male sword to my mouth. He surely was younger and more naïve than the other but his manhood could embarrass many of his companions.

What a wonderful thing! I was reluctant at first but then he grabbed my head and pushed his shaft right into my mouth. It made me gag, tears to my eyes, but I wanted it so much and the scent of his male skin was so exciting I let him drive my head on him. In and out, in and out ... I moved my head, licked his shaft all around, at it again.

In the mean time the other lad was finding his way to my most secret place, I felt his breath on my thighs and his tongue probed me deeply. How hard he licked me, just as if he wanted to eat me. Why, dear Husband, why could not we do that too? Why for us being husband and wife mean only laying cold in bed once per month?

He licked me so perfectly, so hard, and I gave my best on the younger lad's cock. Heavy and hard, I sucked it with passion and ate it as the sweetest food in the world.

I could not be surprised when I felt the older fellow's cock knocking at my door. No timid fumbling, he just rammed his weapon up my cunt all the way. Cunt! You must be surprised at what words I have learnt.

So he grabbed my hips steadily and without wasting a moment he started moving in and out of me. He gave me blows hard enough to make me struggle to keep sucking the other fellow, but what bliss!

My cunt was open wide and the fellow was riding me like a horse. My tongue would swirl around the tip of his companion's big cock and move to the base, then return and suck him hard, I saw how much he liked it and it will be a present for you too, when we are reunited.

I came, so many times I met that rare pleasure that makes one a woman! A heat wave came up to my head from my cunt, tingling and pure pleasure mixing up; seeking relief I rubbed my cunt against the fellow to reach my pleasure. Almost in desperation to get the best satisfaction I grabbed the other man's cock hard and sucked him harder. I felt it pulsating under my fingers and it gave me its fluid. Salty, the taste of sin, unless sin is having no pleasure.

On the last wave of pleasure I grabbed his hips and let my body shake and arch as if the sea had just reached violently inside that cabin.

The emotions were so strong and so heavy that I must have laid spent on that poor bench for some time. When I woke up the two lads were not with me but there were a couple of coins on the wooden plank next to me, they are enclosed to this letter and with this I am so bold as to address you a prayer.

I bid you for a different life, my dear Husband. Happiness and pleasure are not of our old continent, etiquette and social rules are like water thrown on a fire, may this fire never be spent.

I wish you with me here. May we discover the pleasures of this world together as this perilous travel to Orient has revealed to me.

With the grace of God, I bid you a warm farewell, and hope to see you here very soon.

Yours lovingly,

Margriet

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