Journal of a Victorian Gentleman

Tuesday, January 4, 1881

God save me from these post-Christmas doldrums! Everything gets so frightfully boring this time of year. Whereas one month ago all the great houses of London were festooned in their finest decorations and every night someone was only too eager to throw a soiree worthy of fond remembrance, now we are all adrift in a sea of ennui. The only thing that dampened our spirits at all last month was word of that nonsense going on in the Transvaal -- who would start a war in the middle of the Christmas season other than a group of illiterate farmers?! Bad form, if you ask me.

Oh, Miss Elizabeth Dunbar, when will you throw another party?! I am bored, bored, bored! Torture me. Deprive me. Starve me. Even kill me. Just, for the love of God, don't bore me!

We have just recently employed that new Irish scullery maid. Perhaps I will see if she has anything worth enjoying.

Later --

Allow me to share with you my most recent adventure, both as chance to once again discuss the ease with which the lower classes -- especially Irish scullery maids -- will surrender their sexual delicacies to their employers as well as to explore the degree to which I will go to relieve my boredom...and sexual tension, of course.

I walk into the pantry and our kitchen maid, Margaret, is there doing some damn thing or another for supper tonight. As I am an infrequent visitor to the kitchen -- or more appropriately Margaret knows what it means when I do suddenly show up in the kitchen -- she immediately smiled and looked around to see if the other servants were near.

Teasing her a bit I grabbed a bunch of nuts and raisins from the table and innocently asked her where the new maid was. I said I wanted to "meet" her.

Margaret smiled, knowing full well I meant "meat" her. I was informed the cook told her to clean out the ashes from my upstairs study. What a wonderful bit of luck that was!!

So I walk into the study and see her on all fours reaching far back into the fireplace sweeping up the ashes, her ass in the air and pointed directly towards me. My cock immediately stiffened and stood firm at that sight and I knew how this would soon play out. These maids really are so easy!

I cleared my throat, and she quickly stood up and whirled around, a look of shocked embarrassment on her face. She has lovely milky white skin -- made somehow lovelier by the smudges of cinders on her face -- bright red hair and eyes as green as her native island. She is quite a beautiful girl, and I could easily see her working over at Madame Toussaint's.

Her lovely white face even had a few freckles and she looked very young. I suddenly recalled Beatrice saying the new maid had only just turned eighteen. My cock somehow grew even harder, and this was all just in the few seconds it took her to stand up!

She apologized profusely for being in my study and immediately started to gather her things up, so I said, "No, no. That's fine. You were told by Mrs. Jennings, the cook, to clean in here, correct?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered, but still loudly enough for me to hear that delectable Irish accent I love so much.

"So, please do continue in your work...um...what is your name?"

"Catherine," she said a bit more confidently and with a lovely little smile. It was the kind of smile that let me know Margaret had already told Catherine about me and that she was only too happy to meet me.

She returned to her previous position sweeping out the ashes, her bum again most invitingly high in the air. I sat down on one of my leather reading chairs but didn't even pretend to be working or reading. I sat there quite blatantly staring at her delicious ass, the way an archer hones in on the bull's eye before letting loose his shaft. I also made no pretense whatsoever about rubbing my now almost painfully engorged prick through my trousers.

Catherine cleaned like that for a little while, then I believe she became aware of my presence and felt my eyes upon her and looked over her shoulder. She clearly saw me stroking my thick piece of manhood through my trousers and quickly turned her head back around with a sudden sucking in of the air. I laughed to myself at this response.

It was perhaps less than twenty seconds, however, before she slowly and cautiously peered back over her shoulder, taking in now the full picture of what I was doing.

"Mr. Worthington," she said in mock innocent disbelief, "whatever are you doing, sir?"

"Why, silly girl, I'm stroking Mr. John Thomas, of course."

She giggled slightly at that. I like the way she sounds when she giggles.

She turned back around to attend to her cleaning, but again peeked her eyes over her shoulder several more times, smiling widely and giggling deliciously every time she did so.

I knew she wanted to say or do something about the situation but was totally at a loss as to what to do, so I said, "Mr. John Thomas would very much like to meet you, Catherine. Would you like to see him?"

Catherine turned back around slowly now, her eyes at first cast on the floor, and then lifting them to me she softly said "Yes, sir," biting her lower lip after the words came out of her mouth as if they had leapt out of their own accord.

I told her to stay in the position she was but to turn around. She did so obediently -- I do love how well trained these Irish maids are, so quick to listen to their employer's orders! -- and I slowly unbuttoned my trousers and pulled out Mr. John Thomas, who now stood tall and erect like one of my Coldstreamers during drill.

She gasped slightly when she saw him and her eyes were stuck upon him with that hungry look I love so much.

"Have you ever seen one of these before, dear?"

"Yes, sir," she said playfully with a naughty smile. "One or two back home."

"Oh, really?" That answer intrigued me and I noticed a silvery drop of the early spunk on the tip of my cock. "Have you ever had one in your mouth before, dear?"

Catherine now blushed at that question and looked away suddenly, dropping her eyes before lifting them to meet mine. "I've never had one in my own mouth, sir...but I watched my sister do that one time to the lad that helps on the farm...and..."

"Yes?" I said, stroking Mr. John Thomas now.

"Well, it made my mouth water to watch her do it, sir...so...I've always wanted to have a taste of that myself."

Catherine saying that suddenly took me away to my governess, Mrs. Herndon, that lovely buxom woman who unintentionally taught me so very much about the delights of the flesh. I recalled how I watched her suck the butler that one time when they thought the house was fast asleep and how I have craved to have my prick sucked like that ever since then!

"My, my, Catherine," I said then. "You do look all sweet and innocent but inside you I think lives quite a naughty little girl."

She blushed again and hung her head, apparently ashamed by that fact. Wanting to reassure her I then said, "Which means you will fit in perfectly here, dear."

Catherine lifted her head and smiled again, that hungry look on her face again as she once more took hold of my cock with her eyes and refused to let go.

Since she craved sucking one as needfully as I wanted mine sucked, I invited her to crawl over to me and have a taste of my prick. She did so, crawling across the floor slowly, her breasts hanging lusciously and providing me quite a view of those delicious soft mounds from down her maid's blouse. She arrived now to my magnificently erect thick piece which she took gently in her hand, pulling the prepuce down gently and simply looked at it deeply, as if trying to memorize every fine detail she could. She took all of the sight it as best she could, unwittingly driving me mad with deferred pleasure as her mouth was so close and yet she only held my cock there, looking at it.

After a time I gently nudged forward with my hips, thrusting Mr. John Thomas towards her lips and sending her a clear message. She opened her mouth and slowly placed it in, taking only just past the head in her mouth and literally sucking gently. It was very clear she had never done this before, but rather than get bored or enraged by her clumsy skills I chose to instead educate her about the pleasures of sucking a man's meat.

"Catherine, dear," I said now, taking it in my own hands and holding it for her. "I want you to do exactly what I tell you and how I tell you to do it."

"Yes, sir," she said obediently in that wonderful accent of hers.

"Now, I want you to lick up and down the shaft. Have you ever received a candy cane as a Christmas treat?"

"Rarely, sir, but I've had a few."

"Well then, lick it up and down just as you might begin to eat just such a delicious delight."

She did so marvelously. Catherine slowly and carefully ran her soft wet tongue from the very bottom of my rock hard shaft, all along the side, then back down to the bottom numerous times. She even had the awareness to pull the foreskin back to expose the cock head and then to swirl her tongue around the head several times and to lick up and down the underside of the shaft. She seemed to indeed be a natural at this!

"Well done, Catherine, well done!" I enthusiastically encouraged her. "Now, you come to the part where you want to place the length of it in your mouth."

Catherine stopped her licking at looked at the entire massive size of Mr. John Thomas. "Put the whole thing in my mouth, sir? I don't know if I can."

"Oh, you can, my dear," I said. "It only takes time and practice...a great deal of practice, lovely Catherine."

I instructed her to slowly, carefully slide the length of my prick into her mouth as far as she could. She did so, only managing to take a bit less than half of my shaft before she started gagging and coughing. The sound of her choking like that, gagging, her eyes tearing up, sent voluptuous thrills through my body of the most intense lust and made me so want to grab her red hair in my fist and pump Mr. John Thomas deep inside her throat as I do the girls at Madame Toussaint's. I chose instead to be the patient and encouraging teacher.

I told her to try again, to relax and to loosen her throat. Every time she gagged and choked I told her try again, and each time she took ever more and more of my cock down into her throat. She was not able to handle his entire length -- there is so much to him, after all! -- but she did superbly for her first try!

"Well done, Catherine," I said. "Now, I need you to take him in your hand again and to slowly slide him in and out of your mouth as far as you can take him without gagging, running your hand up and down the length of it as you do."

Catherine listened obediently and did just as I told her. She started off slowly at first, then at my command her bobbing became faster and faster. I knew my creamy spunk would soon start flying, so I told her to keep her mouth wrapped around it when that happened and take it all.

I started to now add my own thrusts and pumps to the action, making the sensations far too much to handle and my spunk filled her mouth. I was unable to restrain myself from grabbing her hair at this very last moment, effectively pinning her head to my lap and my prick deep in her throat. I know Catherine had never had that tasty treat before, and the look of wide-eyed surprise on her face as my spunk filled her mouth was perhaps the most charming thing of this whole experience.

After I finished I pulled Mr. John Thomas out of her mouth and she remained there with a confused and questioning look on her face.

"Swallow it, dear. That's what you do with that special creamy treat."

Catherine swallowed hard a few times, gagging a bit but getting my entire load down remarkably well. I do believe she is going to be a welcomed addition to my household staff.

Thursday, January 6, 1881

Oh, blessed delight of delights! Miss Elizabeth Dunbar will be throwing a soiree on Friday the 14th. We just got the invitation today! And if I may say so myself, it is about damn time!

My mid-winter boredom has continued, but at least Catherine is proving to be quite an effective distraction from that. I am still educating her regarding the proper way to suck a man's cock and take a large mouthful of his spunk without gagging. I am finding the role of sexual educator to be quite a wonderfully succulent thrill, in no small part because I am intentionally denying myself the pleasure of taking her wholly as of yet. I will, of course, I've just chosen not to do so yet.

Yet.

Friday, January 7, 1881

Music tonight at Sadler's Wells. It was quite a delightful piece but I found I was far more interested in the ladies there. Thank God for opera glasses. What a wonderful way to spy a delicious bust or an unexpected curve in such an innocent fashion!

One of those hidden pleasures I love to spy so much is when a lady, all prim and proper and renowned in the city for her chastity and high morals, can been seen to gently and oh so intentionally touch her man's hardened prick through his trousers during the show. If I were ever to make public the amount of such "proper" ladies that touch men in such deliciously improper ways when the houselights are turned down all London would be in an uproar! How charming that would be!!

I did strike up a very interesting and arousing conversation with a Mrs. Anna Kean who has been a widow for the past year or so due to our most recent, foolish adventure in Afghanistan. She had only just come out of the Full mourning period of her imposed bereavement and so she was again enjoying the joys of a rich social life. Even in her dull, black dress with the weeping veil partly covering her face it was obvious how gorgeous and simply delicious this treat was, especially her piercing blue eyes.

It would appear her husband was the late Colonel Edward Kean of the 66th Berkshire regiment of foot of such recent fame due to his staunch fighting to the bloody end at Maiwand. Brave. Patriotic. Wrapped in the flag and all that. Yet shockingly foolish because his young wife is now alone and all but quivering for the touch of a man. Any idea which man plans to soon be touching her? During our innuendo- and entendre-laced conversation it was painfully clear that this very young, very beautiful woman is only too ready to have the loving ministrations of a lover and once again to feel the hard, powerful body of a man on her -- indeed, in her.

Under such circumstances I believe I would have sent my Coldstreamers out of the safety of the garden walls then snuck out the back and returned safely to this woman! I am indeed proud to serve in the renowned Coldstream Guards, but surely there are limits to everything -- especially when delicious young women are involved. At any rate she invited me to low tea on Monday, which of course I graciously accepted.

Having gone to Sadler's with William and we both feeling like it was far too early to call it a night, we decided to go to Madame Toussaint's to see if she had any fresh new girls. I am so very glad we did!

I saw for the very first time an actual black woman from America. She told me her entire long story when we were done with our "business" transaction. It would appear Sadie was born as a slave in South Carolina the year before the Americans had that awful little argument over state's rights. The plantation on which she was born was burned to the ground by Sherman and his bummers and her family became camp followers. To make a long story short her family wanted nothing more than to get out of the south upon the end of the war but found the northerners to be only slightly less hateful towards her people than those of the south. So, fed up with America altogether, she decided to come see Europe a while and knew she could make quite a comfortable living selling the pleasures of her body.

And oh my, what pleasures she had to offer! As you well know I have always been intoxicated by the beauty and raw sensuality of black women. Perhaps it's the exoticness of it, perhaps it's just because there are so few such faces here in London, perhaps it's because I would massage my prick to pictures of black women out of father's travel books when I was younger, but whatever it is I have always found them simply edible. So finally laying with one was too much for words.

At the same time, Sadie is a truly gorgeous woman in her own right, regardless of what my proclivities may already have been. Her skin is not the dark chocolate that you might expect or have seen in the pictures of the antebellum south. Rather she is a fine, almost bronze color, or perhaps the color of café au lait -- and she tastes just as delicious too, I might add. Her hair is dark brown and in tight little ringlets that fall over her shoulders like a cascading waterfall, while her breasts are firm and large. Most wonderful of all, though, is that her nipples look like two firm little chocolate drops with very little areolae around those delicious nipples -- and you know how much I hate excessive areolae! She is slim yet well built, and in what was a totally shocking and unexpected surprise she shaved all but a thin strip of the pubic hair away from her delicious little cunt! I have never seen an adult woman so arrayed, but must admit to having enjoyed it -- if for no other reason than the lack of hairs in the back of my throat!

William has never really shared my wonder for black women but he decided to enjoy her at the same time simply for the joy of doing something new. After having been taken to her room -- which was the Red Room, where I have had so many agreeable adventures! -- the three of us sat on the edge of the bed, Sadie between us. She would turn to one and kiss passionately, lovingly, while the other played with her nipples or gently rubbed her thigh all the way up to her very wet quim. She would then turn to the other and we would switch duties.

We went on like that for a while, each of us stripping off our clothes or the clothes of another -- well, I should say William and I relieved Sadie of her already limited clothing, but neither he nor I stripped the other of so much as our scarves! -- until at last we were all three of us fully naked. As we kissed Sadie in turn she stroked our cocks, clearly enjoying the sensation of having her hands full and also making it obvious she knew just how to work two thick pieces of manhood in her hands.

Growing eager for more I pushed Sadie down on the bed and told her to hang her head over the edge slightly. I then told her to start sucking William while I began to lick that amazingly delicious cunt of hers. It truly was one of the most altogether pleasant mottes I have ever enjoyed in such a way. First of all it tasted utterly delicious: fruity, almost like fresh raspberries in summer. It was a wonderful taste and I greedily licked it wildly. Secondly, I was aroused by the wonderful contrast in color of the bright pink of her cunt to the darker brown surrounding it. If I hadn't been so intent on getting that flavor in my mouth I would have just been content to lay there and take in the beauty of what I saw. And finally it was the wettest cunt I've ever played with. Most women can at least achieve a certain level of wet -- this quim was actually slick, as if secreting a special and unique oil. She was altogether wonderful to taste.

I grew in time impatient with this and told William to switch positions with me -- it is so very convenient going to places like this a friend who is also a lower-ranking officer in your regiment! -- and now had Sadie get on all fours. While William worked her over as I had done from behind I now grabbed her lovely curly hair tightly in my fist and rammed Mr. John Thomas into her with all the might and fury I could muster. I think it may have been more than even normal because I had been so very restrained with Catherine for so long, but whatever the reason I slammed my prick deep inside of her with all I had. She made that delightful, lovely little gurgling sound I love so much with every thrust, yet she handled Mr. John Thomas' size like the professional she is.