So Charlie and his two cousins were dining with “three jolly sisters” in 1883 London, who were “as pretty and lovely little milliners as you ever saw or will see again.” Or so went the tale in The Boudoir: A Magazine of Scandal, Facetiae, &c.. It started as a friendly dinner party, but as soon as the gas light was turned out things got even friendlier:

Something in her deep blue eyes and look so fired his feelings that taking her unresisting hand under the table he placed it on his thigh, just over the most sensitive member of the male organisation, and was at once rewarded by the gentle pressures of her fingers, which assured him she quite understood the delicate attention. The others were too absorbed in some similar manipulation to notice Charlie and Rosa, as he adroitly unfastened about three buttons of his trousers, and directing her hand to the place, and presently felt she had quite grasped the naked truth, which fluttered under the delicious fingering in such a way that very few motions of her delicate hand brought on such an ecstatic flood of bliss as quite to astonish Miss Rosa, and necessitate the sly application of a mouchoir to her slimy fingers, as at the same time she crimsoned to the roots of her hair, and looked quite confused, whilst he could feel that a perceptible tremor shot through her whole frame.

Fortunately just at that moment Bessie turned off the gas, and instinctively the lips of Charlie and Rosa met in a long impassioned kiss. Tongue to tongue they revelled in a blissful osculation. He could hear a slight shuffling, and one or two deep-drawn sighs, as if the ladies felt rather agitated. There was a convenient sofa in a recess just behind Charlie’s chair, and Rosa seemed to understand him so well that he effected a strategic movement to the more commodious seat under cover of the darkness…

Google tells me that “mouchoir” is a loan-word from the French, and means “handkerchief”.

Similar Sex Blogging: