Vintage Sixty-Nine
I found this florid description of mutual oral sex in Sadopaideia, so called because most of the 1907 book involves whipping and spanking. (The subtitle is “Being the experiences of Cecil Prendergast, undergraduate of the University of Oxford, shewing how he was led through the pleasant paths of Masochism to the supreme joys of Sadism.”) But, for that sort of thing, you often need an initial seduction, and in this passage that’s going swimmingly:
I felt her right arm round my waist and her left hand began to unbutton my fly from the top. Before she had time to undo the last button John Thomas leapt forth ready and eager, but she slapped it and pushed it in again and undid the last button and fumbled for my balls and gently drew them out. I drew back a little from her and lifted her petticoat right up, disclosing the daintiest of black silk openwork stockings with pale green satin garters, and above them filmy lawn drawers with beautiful lace and insertion, through which the fair satin skin of her thighs gleamed most provokingly. At the top there appeared just between the opening of the drawers the most fascinating brown curls imaginable.
I feasted my eyes on this lovely sight, undoing my braces and slipping my trousers down. Her hand immediately left my balls and began to fondle my bottom, stroking and pinching the cheeks while she murmured, “You darling boy, oh, what a lovely bottom.”
I was eager to be in her, but the brown curls fascinated me so much that I could not resist the temptation to stoop down and kiss them. I was rather shy of doing this, as I had never done it before, and though I knew it was usual with tarts, I was not sure if it would be welcome here. Judge of my surprise, then, when I felt Mrs. Harcourt’s hand on my head gently pressing it down and heard her saying, “How did you guess I wanted that?”
She opened her legs wider, disclosing the most adorable pussy, with pouting lips just slightly opening and showing the bright coral inner lips, which seemed to ask for my kisses. I buried my head in the soft curls, and with eager tongue explored every part of her mossy grot. She squirmed and wriggled with pleasure, opening her legs quite wide and twisting them round me. I followed all her movements, backing away on my knees as she slipped off the chair, until at last, when she drenched my lips with love, she slipped on the hearth rug. Then, as I could scarcely reach her with my tongue in that position, and didn’t wish to lose a drop of the maddening juice, I disengaged my legs from hers and knelt down to one side so that my head could dive right between her legs. This naturally presented my naked bottom and thighs to her gaze.
“You rude naughty boy,” she said, smacking me gently, “to show me this bare bottom. I’m shocked at you.”
Her hands again fondled my balls and bottom, and I had all I could do to prevent John Thomas from showing conclusively what he had in store for her.
I had no intention of wasting good material, however, and was just about to change my position so that I could arrive at the desired summit of joy when I felt her trying to pull my right leg towards her. I let myself go and she eventually succeeded in lifting it right over, so that I was straddling right across her, and we were in the position I knew quite well from photographs, known as sixty-nine.
My heart beat high. Was it possible I was to experience this supreme pleasure of which I had heard so much? I buried my head between her thighs, my tongue redoubled its efforts, searching out every corner and nook it could find, and just as it was rewarded by another flow of warm life I felt round my own weapon, not the fondling of her hand, but something softer, more clinging, and then unmistakably the tip of a velvet tongue from the top right down to the balls and back again, and then I felt the lips close round it and the gentle nip of teeth. This was too much, John Thomas could restrain himself no longer, and as I seized her bottom with both hands and sucked the whole of her pussy into my mouth, he spurted forth with convulsive jerks his hidden treasure. When the spasm was over I collapsed limply on her, my lips still straining her life.
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I love this. Just the way it’s written, and the refreshing use of words that aren’t from the “cock, pussy, clit, blah blah blah” school of writing. I like the excitement and the way he doesn’t know what to expect next.
Note to self: try to use “mossy grot” in normal conversation this week.
I had almost forgotten this book. A girl I knew in grad school had a copy and introduced me to both it and S&M. She was the first woman I ever spanked and I remember her with great fondness and I now have to go dig up the book. It’s in a box somewhere in the basement.
The writing was hot! I had to turn the thermostat back a few degrees to get comforatble again. But… Er… “lawn drawers”…?
I must confess I was unfamiliar with the term and therefore intrigued. …Special pants made for playing backyard croquet perhaps? My first attempt to define the term was even more confusing, as it was defined as “drawers made from lawn” Hmm… Grass skirts? Pants woven from fescue? Finally I found that “lawn” was a crisp fabric, resistant to creasing, that was often made from linen. Were the Victorians trying to keep the clitoris constantly irritated into a state of arousal?
so satisfying – from the reference to Mrs. Harcourt, her mossy grot and the use of ‘bottom’ to his barely concealed thrill.
John Thomas? That’s a new one for me.
Mossy Grot and John Thomas. Most prime writing. From the genteel nature to the unabashed detail, a tremendous little story.
Dr. Whiplash, if you want thin translucent lawn to be crisp, you’ve got to starch it, which makes it rather less translucent. It was common to starch petticoats, but not so much for the drawers.
Basically, think loose, mid-thigh or knee-length shorts of the finest, lightest handkerchief cotton you’ve ever seen, with inset lace strips (the “insertions” mentioned above). Oh, and open crotch! Because if you’ve got the multiple layers of skirt and petticoats typical in 1907, you weren’t going to be able to take down your drawers to go to the toilet.
Way prettier than thong panties, if you ask me.
“John Thomas” was prominant in “Lady Chatterly’s Lover”, the 1928 novel by T.H. Lawrence (not to be confused with T.E. Lawrence). I always assumed it was an invention for that book. Time to do some serious (and entertaining) research!
Note to Ann:
Personally, I’ve heard “John Thomas” quite a bit from various British sources, so I assume it is (or was) a common euphemism in the U.K.
Also, Note to Rikibeth: Thanks for the extra info and don’t get me wrong, I’m all for open-crotch underwear, but they do seem a bit antithetical or counter-productive in such a sexually repressed era. The lace inserts seem pretty hot to me, assuming that they were not mere applique…
Dr. Whiplash, the open-crotch drawers may seem counterintuitive for such an outwardly demure era, but there you are, they existed! Having had to help a friend manage a wedding gown and modern underwear in the bathroom once, I can appreciate their practical value.
Also, it’s why can-can dancers were so scandalous — once they bent over or kicked up their legs and flounced their skirts out of the way, you could see their ladyparts! There’s a DVD extra of the costume designer for “Moulin Rouge” explaining how she couldn’t do that for the modern movie and had to get the idea across in other ways.
The lace insertions ARE hot, and no, they’re not appliques. They’re tricky to sew — the Folkwear Edwardian Tea Gown pattern has instructions, and I’ve seen the finished effect and it’s gorgeous, but I don’t think I’ve got the skill to get it right.
Re: “John Thomas”. Yes, it’s fairly well-known over here in Britain, just a bit old fashioned!
We know from a recent auction sale that Queen Victoria’s undies were crotchless. As Rikibeth has pointed out, this was a primary aid to toileting, especially with women’s clothing of the Victorian era. No sexual behavior was implied by these.
No sexual behavior was implied? Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.
This was the era that put skirts on table legs to avoid sexual suggestiveness. They were keenly aware of suggestive possibilities. And no matter how many layers of clothes the women layered on, you’ll never convince me they didn’t take full advantage — when they wanted to — of whatever suggestive attributes their clothing may have had — crotchlessness included.
“Crotchlessness”? How many Scrabble points can I get with that… I’ll bet it’s not even in an unabridged dictionary. Good show Bacchus!