Three. Noelle Mack

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ of it?” Harriet said nonchalantly. “But he is very good to me, Fiona, when he is in London.”

      Fiona laughed. “So long as you are both happy. Now explain the Celestial Spheres, if you please.”

      “The woman lies on her back, with her hips raised on a soft silk pillow. She puts the balls deep inside her pink blossom—Ned says the Chinese have many names for that—and rocks her hips so that they move and make her love petals wet with dew.”

      “I see.”

      “He gave me a little book with pictures of a concubine demonstrating their use.”

      “Thoughtful of him,” Fiona said.

      “You can see the ivory balls within her since she seems to have no hair there—well, I have the book, Fiona.” She patted the reticule and smiled. “The pictures on the fifth page are delightfully lewd. Two younger concubines hold the lady’s thighs apart and put the balls in, then make her clasp her pink blossom with open fingers. They help her bounce her pretty bum up and down on the pillow while a third one licks between the lady’s fingers, dainty as you please, and she has her climax with all of them watching. The Celestial Spheres are supposed to give great pleasure.”

      “And do they?” Fiona inquired. She looked at the balls in her friend’s hand, wondering how they would feel inside her.

      Harriet shrugged. “I have not tried my set as yet, even though Ned has been home for an entire week. He brought me several sets, in different sizes, for my toy chest, as he calls it. I shall try them, you may be sure. He likes to see me enjoy his presents, especially if I put one toy in my cunny and another in my arse.”

      “Both at once?”

      “Sometimes.” Harriet didn’t even blush. “He always wants to spread my arse cheeks first—he loves it that I am so big and soft behind, Fiona.” She wriggled that part of herself against the seat cushion of the armchair and continued. “He begs very nicely for the honor of putting in a small dildo, if that is my pleasure. I have him put a dab of French cream there to ease the way.”

      “Of course.”

      Harriet sighed happily. “Just talking about arseholes makes him so hard.”

      “That’s a sailor for you,” Fiona murmured.

      “Well, yes. If he is very good, I bend over and let him touch the tight puckers with a fingertip and rub in the cream but no more. It excites him exceedingly. He knows I know it.”

      “Go on,” Fiona said, quite amused. There was no stopping Harriet once she began to talk about sex. “What next?”

      “I part my cunny lips and slide a huge rod inside, all the way up. Ned is mad for such play, especially when I finally ask him to gently stimulate my arsehole with the little rod I prefer there—watching his dear wife experience penetration fore and aft is his greatest desire, he says. Sometimes the sight makes him come without my even touching him.”

      Fiona shook her head, reaching out to take the spheres from Harriet’s hand. “And do you moan long and low? Such a show requires appropriate music.”

      “Indeed I do,” Harriet laughed. “Ned says he could find me in the darkest whorehouse just by the noise I make.”

      Fiona could think of no reply to that. Harriet most certainly did speak frankly about every subject under the sun. “Well, well. Thank you for the spheres, Harriet. Are they the largest of the sets you have?”

      “Yes. I put these aside especially for you, my dear friend. Of course I prefer the real thing, Fiona.”

      “As do I. Still, these are interesting. And the sound they make is very pleasant.”

      Now that Fiona was playing with the spheres, Harriet had her hands free to look inside the reticule on her lap once more. “The book—ah, here it is. I will leave it with you.” She handed it to Fiona with a wink. “Do you understand Chinese?”

      “You know perfectly well that I don’t.”

      “Then enjoy the pictures, as I did.”

      Fiona riffled through the small volume. “The secrets of the East are revealed at last. It seems that they enjoy the act of love as we do.” She stopped at one page and turned the book sideways, then upside down, to study it. “Good heavens. However did they manage to get into that position? One would have to be an acrobat, which I am not. But thank you, Harriet. I will peruse it later.”

      Harriet clucked to her spaniel and they both watched Beastie wiggle out from under the ottoman, then jump into her ample lap. “Perhaps your new friend will enjoy the pictures as well. What did you say his name was, Fiona?”

      “I didn’t say.”

      3

      As the day continued fine, Lady Fiona decided to ride out in Hyde Park after Harriet’s departure. From the open carriage that she drove herself, she looked down upon the crowd jostling each other in the leafy paths and edging by their superiors, whose numbers were far fewer.

      The breeze puffed out the dresses of the promenading ladies, whose sedate pace did not alter no matter how high their hems were lifted. It was as good a way as any to permit the gentlemen a glimpse of pretty shoes and stockings that would otherwise be hidden, Fiona thought.

      Women had to do what was necessary to capture masculine attention if they had ensnared no likely prospects for matrimony by late spring. The season was well underway and the bachelors of the ton would soon be departing for their country estates, to spend the languorous months of summer in pursuit of trout and the more willing servant girls of the household.

      Yet the married women seemed as eager to catch the eye of the men who strolled by, sometimes alone and sometimes in groups of two or three. Some men rode, putting on a display of muscular buttocks in breeches that were almost indecently tight, their thighs gripping the saddle leather in a most provocative way as they trotted by on the finest horseflesh in London. From behind she could glimpse something even more delicious: the balls of the well-endowed men, compressed slightly by the supple buckskin that contained them, but very much there. Fiona never tired of that sight.

      She would not have minded being swept away by such a man for a wild ride over a moonlit moor, if a convenient moor could be found that was not too cold or too desolate, she thought with an inward smile. He would clasp her to his chest with one strong arm during their desperate ride…his stiff cock pressing into her bouncing behind while she clung to the saddle horn and rode astride, just as he did.

      Fiona let her mind drift and elaborated upon her fantasy of ravishment. He would know that her soft cunny smacked the saddle with each bounce and that would make him grit his teeth and groan with hot longing…until, wild with desire, her faceless lover would make the horse rear and scream, then dismount to lay her down upon the heather…well no, that was scratchy stuff. Anyway, he would make her come again and again.

      The very thought made her feel randy. It was rather at odds with the decorous scene through which she was driving at the moment, certainly, but the fleeting fantasy was quite diverting.

      Fiona did not see the piece of paper that the breeze tossed under her horse’s nose, but she felt a hard jerk as the animal shied and the reins СКАЧАТЬ