Today's guest author is Richard V Raiment with an excerpt from his novel Aphrodite Overboard: the erotic memoirs of a Victorian lady - which only yesterday got named as one of Erotica for the Big Brain's "Best of 2015":
"Few writers ever manage to hold so consistently to period-correct stylistic conventions through the entirety of a novel-length narrative, but Raiment here pulls off this amazing feat of literary legerdemain most elegantly without ever seeming stilted or forced. Simply Brilliant!"
A feminine twist on an ancient male fantasy.
The year is 1791. Reluctantly despatched to join her husband, Governor of a British colony, the Lady Susanna is cast away on a tropic island where, of course, white people have never been encountered before. Certainly blonde white women with blonde pubic curls have never been seen before, and this blonde is anything but ditzy. In Chapter 3, of which this is the beginning, Lady Susanna’s suspicion of her future role in village life is deliciously confirmed...
Finding him now in my home and quite ignorant of what he might want of me, I waited for an explaining mime or gesture and suddenly noticed that his wife was present. She too smiled, though it seemed to me a little nervously.
Arshon, as I came to know him, coughed—quite unnecessarily—to gain my attention and then placed in my hands two objects. Both of these were figurines, one long and slender and freshly carved—it seemed to me—from white wood. I knew immediately that the body represented was mine, for though the bust was proportionately larger than my own, the hips proportionately wider, there was no mistaking the facial features or the delicately carved weight of flowing curls. The second figure was worn with age, cut from darker wood and clearly represented an infant. I do not think I’ve ever seen a sweeter object, nor felt such warmth emanate from one.
Had the chief come, then, to bring me gifts? I thought not, from his diffident and somewhat uncomfortable manner and posture. Summer and June were my guides again, June taking me by the hand and gently drawing me towards my bed, which had been re-laid in the centre of the room. Arshon’s wife approached me now, entirely naked and carrying her thong in her hand. A taut little smile on her lips she then lay down upon her back on my bed.
Summer, at hand, smiled gently at me and no-less gently reached down and under and touched me lightly twixt my legs, her gaze scarcely parting from my questioning eyes. And having touched me she moved the same hand slowly till it caressed the lips of the girl on the bed. A blessing, then, but different in posture?
Not sure how to begin I felt June and Summer’s hands upon my upper arms, gently coaxing me downward. Finding no other way I knelt, placing my knees either side of the recumbent girl’s head, lowering my vulva toward her face, arching back with the suddenness of her moist contact, her tongue upon my clitoris.
Seeing me almost fallen the two girls knelt beside me, cradling me between them, and the warrior’s princess between my legs continued her gentle lapping. Only then did I see that Arshon too was lowering himself to the ground. With no clothing to divest himself of, but his feather gone, and wearing but a different pattern—I seemed to think—of paint, I could plainly see his statuesque and enviable erection, watch in warm fascination as he slid it effortlessly into her, his wife.
And as he did her mouth closed on me, sighing, for I felt the rush of air around and within my parts, and all of me was now consumed by her, enveloped in her moistness. Between my thighs her head rocked slowly back and forth to the pattern of his gentle thrusting and between her lips her sweet tongue probed, now, thrusting wetly into me with a rhythm that matched his own.
What words have I to describe that feeling? The strangeness of having a woman there, not imparting as the others had the night before some fleeting kiss, but nuzzling and licking, tonguing and suckling, whilst I watched her husband’s very cock slide back and forth within her lovely slit, heard the wet sounds of their congress even as I heard and felt those on my cunny? Such a heat there came within me, such a fire of wanting in this strangeness, and yet I knew I must suppress it, that I could not appear to them the human that I was.
Supporting himself on his iron-sinewed arms, the living and beautiful mahogany carving that was Arshon’s face hung often close to mine, eyes closed, muscles tense with concentration, till at the last his face reached out to mine, his lips found my lips and he kissed me, deeply, long and sweetly, his tongue probing me, her tongue probing me, and both to the rhythm of his lovely pounding cock.
‘Twas her he was kissing, of course, and I was but their medium. I felt him coming even as she did, felt the gushing of him in the clenching moistness of the mouth that held me in her, in the arching of her body and the thudding of her face into my groin, and in a sudden inner gushing of my own.
As soon as he was come the girls drew me upward and away, and I watched as he subsided onto her, took her in his arms. I envied her so, and June and Summer, I know, saw it. Sweet Summer raised a hand before my face and showed me the carving of myself. As near as she could within the scale of it she kissed the figure on the groin, then opened her other hand to show the second, baby, figure. And somehow I understood. Arshon and his wife desired a baby, presumably had done so for a while, and offerings to other gods having been to no avail they had availed themselves of me. I was fertility.”
Buy Aphrodite Overboard at
Amazon US :: Amazon UK
R V Raiment was born and educated in Yorkshire, Northern England, and now lives in Surrey.
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