tagNovels and NovellasPhileas Fogg - A Memoir Pt. 08

Phileas Fogg - A Memoir Pt. 08

byParis Waterman©

Many months passed after that night of nights. Dolly left my bed to embark upon the dress-making business that I prepared her for; enlightening her with a certain amount of business acumen and of course, sufficient capital to allow her to run the business without financial worry for some two years. Of course if this proved insufficient, I would gladly provide additional funds, for Dolly had been a superb companion --- but like a bird whose broken wing has healed, she was ready to be set free.

I was keeping more and more to myself, seldom leaving Number 7 Saville Row to walk or ride through the streets of London, much less travel further about. My housekeeper and manservant had both become bold enough to chastise me several times about it and feeling guilty, I permitted them to do so. But still I persisted in sitting in my library reading book after book after book, exploring a wide variety of subject matter, among them, William Harvey's "De Motu Cordis," explaining the miracle of the circulation of the blood; Galileo Galilei's "Dialogo," proving that the earth orbits around the sun and not vice versa; and of course, Isaac Newton's "Mathematical Principals of Natural Philosophy," propounding the law of gravitation. Through these and others, I became quite knowledgeable about the world and how it worked.

And so, I ventured out one Sunday afternoon to listen to a presentation to the Linnean Society that concerned a chap named Charles Darwin. I had been reading somewhat extensively on the resemblance or relationships between the several species, as for example, the lion and the tiger, and wondered why it was held that each species was created separately. Of course had I mentioned this aloud I would have been categorized as a pagan.

Thus the presentation served two purposes: One it had whetted my appetite for further knowledge on the subject and two, it was an opportunity to get out of the house after having confined myself to it as if a prisoner under sentence.

I shall attempt to explain what transpired both before, during and after the presentation at the Linnean Society as best I can and hope that I do not bore the reader to distraction in the process. By now the name Charles Darwin should mean something to the reader and going on that assumption I shall relate what was happening in July of 1958 and its aftermath. I should add that although I tried on several occasions, much to my regret, I never did meet Mr. Darwin face to face. It appears that Darwin was galvanized into publishing his views of "natural selection" as it were, after receiving a fateful letter from one Alfred Russel Wallace on June 18, 1858 which resulted in the presentation to The Linnean Society and eventual publication in November of 1859.

That publication, "On the Origin of Species" changed the general thinking of man about the world more than any other book --- at any rate since the time when Newton propounded the theory of gravitation.

A bit of background might be necessary here: In the summer of 1831 Darwin was invited to join HMS Beagle as a naturalist while she was on a tour of duty surveying the southern coasts of South America. When he went on board the Beagle, Darwin fully accepted the hypothesis of the separate creation of each individual species. But the visit to the Galapagos Islands off the coast of Ecuador changed his mind and that of most of the civilized world forever. There he discovered a number of special kinds of tortoises, lizards and birds that were not found anywhere else, and yet they all resembled in a general way corresponding species found on the mainland of America, and were not in the least like species found on similar volcanic islands off the coast of Africa. How could this be if each species was independently created?

It seemed to Darwin that at some time in the remote past, chance had brought the animals to the islands, and that they changed there forms while isolated there. In fact, he convinced himself an evolution of species had occurred, though as yet he had no idea how it had come about. On his return to England he set out to demonstrate that continuous small steps of change could be found in the evolution of any organ of any animal or plant. It was a gigantic task for a single contrary example, if indisputable, would kill the entire theory. (The two paragraphs above have been compiled from material found in the Preface to "On the Origin of the Species," written by Charles G. Darwin for Heritage Press, 1963)

When, in 1858, Alfred Russel Wallace sent in his essay on the same problem, it was Joseph Hooker who arranged with Charles Lyell that their friend should not be pre-empted, and that Darwin's and Wallace's papers be presented together to the Linnean Society." (Richard Drayton, 2000, Nature's Government: Science, Imperial Britain, and the 'Improvement' of the World, (New Haven: Yale University Press) page 179.

As it happened, neither Wallace nor Darwin was present at the meeting. Wallace was still in Malaysia and Charles Darwin was in the village of Down, where Emma and Charles Darwin's child (Charles Waring) had just died from scarlet fever. These joint papers were presented on their behalf by Sir Charles Lyell and Sir Joseph Hooker and actually read by the Secretary to the assembled society. Of this 1858 presentation Sir Gavin De Beer has written the following: "On 1 July 1858 Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace made the first public statement of their theory of evolution by natural selection before the Linnean Society of London, and their papers were published on 20 August of the same year. The eighteen pages which they covered were among the most pregnant ever printed, and deserve to rank with those of Isaac Newton, since they provide for the realm of living beings the first general principle capable of universal application." (Gavin De Beer, 1958, Evolution by Natural Selection: Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace (Cambridge University Press)

What is especially noteworthy about this presentation at which I found myself so thrilled to be attending was that it would ultimately become one of the most illuminating discoveries of our time. Yet I am compelled to point out that although we now view Darwin and his collective theories as pure genius, perhaps no more unsuccessful scientific meeting was ever held, for the President of the Society would ultimately report that "no particularly important papers had been read" that entire year! (Amabel Williams-Ellis, 1966, Darwin's Moon: A Biography of Alfred Russel Wallace (London and Glasgow: Blackie), pages 143-145.)

As is probably well-known, Darwin did not "defend" himself in public and when "Origin" became a best seller; (the first edition of 1250 copies sold out on the day of publication.) Furthermore, every edition of "Origin" published in Charles R. Darwin's lifetime is different! He re-wrote every-single-one!

As I left the meeting certain euphoria came over me and I hailed a cab, asking that he take me to Regents Park that I might walk amongst nature while pondering the amazing information I had just heard presented.

I had been strolling along the various paths afforded by Regent's Park which contains many fine avenues of trees, is much frequented, especially of a Sunday afternoon. I had just left the famous Flower Walk and was still savoring the fine floral displays of the season when I came upon another couple several yards in front of me. On closer inspection it appeared the female was but a young girl, and the male, a well-dressed adult of perhaps forty years of age. They were hugging and the girl's excitement was quite evident. I was careful to make not a sound and watched thinking how nice it was that a father should take time to escort his daughter on a pleasant walk in the park. When to my surprise, the girl turned, closed her eyes and presented her lips for a kiss.

I stood stock still, hardly breathing and watched the scene play out before my eyes. The girl was babbling about "how mature people get out and commune with nature," which was fine with me until she suddenly began to disrobe. She took off every stitch of clothing and placed each item carefully in a small satchel she had been carrying.

I fought to catch my breath, for her young beauty had certainly taken my breath away. This nymph was truly a Greek goddess. The male spent a minute or so protesting her sudden nudity, and paled when she sought to help him in removing his own garments. But she kept at it, and soon she was unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders. They she went after his trousers, releasing his belt, and allowing the trouser to fall to his feet.

He was looking around in fear of being caught in a most compromising position. I held my place, hopeful that the shrubbery I stood behind would hide me from his searching eyes. Evidently it did, and he went on disrobing until he was naked as a jaybird.

When I thought it safe to do so, I returned to my voyeurism, examining the girl's simply divine ass just as she gasped with admiration at the gentleman's prick, which had grown erect and bobbed about as he tried to figure how to extricate himself from this dilemma.

"I ain't never seen one like that!" She said with honest, yet lustful conviction.

I wanted to rush over to them and show her mine, for it was a bit larger than her gentleman's to be perfectly honest, but kept mum and watched with great trepidation.

"I seen me brothar's and me fathar's 'o course, but not like this one. Closest to this one would be a black stallion me fathar brought home from Ireland two, three year ago. Do yet mind if I touch 'er?"

He answered her in a voice edged with raw fear and desire. "Go on, if you like."

She reached down with both hands and did far more than touch it as she cradled it in the palms of her hands and then she kissed it, saying, "No one ever let me touch their before."

Gathering his senses somewhat, he led her into the thicker underbrush, perhaps some 50 or sixty fee away, and then she turned and reached down once more, taking his sturdy appendage into her left hand.

They tried a kiss, twas no father-daughter kiss to be sure as it evolved into a passionate French tonguing type kiss. To me it appeared the young nymph did not understand why the gentleman's tongue had darted out to lick the young thing's lips until she opened her mouth to invite his tongue inside.

I held back from touching myself although I knew it would not require much in the way of stimulation to bring my own prick to expend it's seed as he explained to the lass that, "This is how mothers and fathers kiss."

"Really?" she replied, and with a delightful shriek that caused me to ejaculate in my trousers, she went after his tongue, sucking it voraciously into her own mouth. It must have been an impulse, although I cannot conceive of not doing the same myself, but he reached down and cupped her naked buttocks in the palms of his hands; rubbing his stiffened prick against her bare pussy mound and tummy button. The young girl tore her mouth from his and shimmied down his body until she came face to face with his rigid member; and taking it in both hands began to vigorously stroke him.

Within a minute they were writhing and twisting on the ground in front of me, his face in her crotch and his member in her mouth. It would seem the girl was born to the deed, as she used a varied technique; licking wantonly at the base of his corona, that most delightful of all part of a man's glands. Wherever she acquired the knowledge to do this, I'll never know. Later he told me she confessed it was all "instinctive," but still I must doubt her words, for she was too well practiced. Something she learned at home I suspect, but never shared with the gentleman. That he was well aware of her virginity was also clear, for as they changed positions, he began to rub his manhood between her creamy inner thighs, but never penetrated her even though it was obvious the girl wanted him inside her. Then it was too late, for he spent --- sending long spurts out to bathe her tummy and the top of her hairless mons.

They lay there on the grass, sated for the moment while he massaged the sticky sperm into her stomach and inner thighs and she moaned contentedly next to him. That done, they kissed, sharing tongue; sharing spittle; sharing the very air they breathed, as lovers are wont to do the world over.

They dozed off and my legs began to ache from standing in one place for so long a time. And all that time I searched my mind for the best way to announce my presence, making them aware of my knowledge of their activities without doing irreparable harm to the girl.

I made my presence known, saying: "An interesting performance to say the least, sir, I saw it all, thank you."

"Blast you!" the gentleman cried out, and raised his cane as if to strike me down, but I easily parried the blow with my own walking stick. He quickly realized that he was at a distinct disadvantage physically and decided on diplomacy as the more favorable course of action. It was while he was trying to convince me that I had not witnessed his coupling with the young lass that I recognized him as being Sir Alexander Baring, the financier, from a sketch I'd seen in a recent copy of the Times.

"Mr. Baring, isn't it?" I said, deliberately omitting his title. I saw him turn beet red at the slight. Obviously I held an even greater advantage over him on having this knowledge. "And you sir, are?"

"Phileas Fogg, at your service, sir."

"Do I know you?"

"I think not. I am a fairly private man, not given to the social circles of London or any other city for that matter."

"And as a private person, may I assume that you keep matters to yourself?"

"That would be a fair assumption, Sir, at least under normal circumstances."

What is it you want, Mr. Fogg?" Sir Baring said, coming straight to the point.

"I can think of nothing you might offer me that I would remain silent on such a despicable act as that which I have just witnessed. Seducing a child--- indeed --- a man of your means. Should I speak out on this matter it would mean your ruin, of that, sir, I promise you."

"She's not a child at all!" he exclaimed loudly, and then realizing where he was, he lowered his voice.

I permitted Baring to see me eyeing the girl, who stood stoically, ignoring her nudity while watching us.

"You say she's not a child? You... young lady... how old are you?"

"I dunno, sir. I ain't been told." That said, she placed her thumb in her mouth and sucked it in a childish manner.

"The girl is slow-witted. She must be nineteen or twenty by now," Sir Baring said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "She's the caretaker's daughter. Surely there must be something?" Sir Baring said, his flushed countenance gone pale. When I failed to reply, Sir Baring stared at me for a full minute. Then still glaring into my eyes, he said, "Mr. Fogg, perhaps you would be willing to join me for dinner this evening. That is if you have no other prior obligations. I should like to discuss this matter a little more thoroughly and in . . . more private quarters."

I glanced at the young girl and noted she was idly plucking flowers making a little bouquet of them. She was apparently none the worse from her experience, if indeed she had experienced anything new minutes earlier.

Turning back to Mr. Baring, I replied, "I should be delighted, Sir Baring," I restored his title as a matter of course, "Where and when, sir?"

Baring gave me his address, asking that I be there the following evening. I accepted his card and spun on my heel and left them there; the girl still naked as the jaybird sitting and singing on a limb just above them.

***** Sir Baring and his wife, Abigail Courtney, welcomed me Sunday evening. For the occasion, I played the role of a business associate. During a most pleasant dinner a fierce storm arrived with its lightning providing more light than the many candles and gas lanterns could offer.

Evidently something of great import to Baring had surfaced, but he kept it from me throughout the evening, instead he along with Mrs. Baring insisted that I remain as their guest rather than chance traveling home on such a stormy night. I accepted the offer, and having done so, realized it would be the first night away from Number 7 Saville Row in over a year.

Over a brandy by the fire, Sir Baring informed me the young girl with him in the park was Glenda, and she was indeed eighteen and more often than not served as a playmate for Baring's youngest daughter, Rhonda.

"How," I asked, "did you come to be on such intimate terms with her?"

He barked a laugh of smugness and replied, "Easier than one would think, my good fellow. My wife was bathing her as is our custom around six every Friday evening, when she suddenly smelled something burning in the kitchen. Of course, the caretaker was out at the market picking up the provisions Mrs. Baring had ordered earlier in the day. I was called upon to help with Glenda's bath and did so. In the process of drying her, my hand was caressing most of her hidden parts, especially her pristine cunt."

I swallowed most of my brandy, hoping he wouldn't notice my own erection. Oh, Baring had one, a large one, if I must say so; he was relishing the retelling of his sordid seduction.

I rubbed between her legs most thoroughly, and evoked a very pleasant squeal from her lips. "Did I tickle you?" I asked.

"Yes, but twas a good tickle, sir. Could yer do it again?"

Well I did it several times; the last two without the drying cloth, only my bare hand. And to make a long story short, she agreed to accompany me on a walk in the park the following day. It was to be our secret.

When we reached a thicket with a small path leading into it, I told her that this was my favorite spot, for no one could tell I was in there when I sat quietly. She was most anxious to see if it was true, and we went in and sat, or rather, she sat and I knelt. We watched several passers-by take no notice of us before I made my next move.

"Oh," I said, with some alarm.

"Wha tis it?" Glenda in her innocence inquired.

"I must pee. My bladder is full and I must go.

There is a loo just down the road at the Inn at the edge of the park."

Realizing that to venture that far meant we would not be returning to the secret place, Glenda thought quickly and said, "But Sir, might not you relieve yer self over there? No one can see, and we wouldn't be leaving our secret place?"

"I could, but I dare not, not in front of you my child."

"I won't peek, I promise," said she.

Sir Baring gave me an evil grin and said, "I knew she'd look. Most young girls possess a natural curiosity toward the male penis and will go to extraordinary lengths to see one. I took a leisurely piss, and made certain she got a gander at my shaft. After I finished, I pretended I didn't know she'd looked on, and asked her if she had any game we might play while in our hiding place."

"We could play show me yours and I'll show yer mine," she offered.

"How do you play that game?" I asked.

She giggled in her sudden superiority. "Like this," said she, and hoisting her skirt, revealed her bloomers to my eyes.

"And what shall I do?"

Her bluntness was astonishing. "Yer kin take it out again."

"Take what out, Glenda?" I said feigning ignorance.

"Yer Willy, 'o course. Show me yer Willy 'en I'll show yer me puss."

"I don't know. You go first. Yes, you go first Glenda."

"All right, then," she said, and hauled down her bloomers, and stood there in all her glory.

Things progressed rapidly thereafter and soon I was gamahuching her and fingering her. Of course with one so young I only had a small part of my finger in there, but it was pure heaven, pure heaven," Baring sighed, reliving the memory.

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