Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set (35 page)

During the whole of this, Carol acted like a woman out of
her wits. Her heart and soul were in the scene and Dick’s cock was as if it was
in her when the two apprentices lay naked in bed clamped onto each other for
dear life. She enjoyed it all, her pussy widening as the sensation of being
entered spread through her. It was only when the pair fell exhausted on their
backs that she remembered the ghost was even there.

“A small matter,” said the ghost, “to make these silly folks
so happy.”

“Small!” echoed Carol.

The spirit signed for her to listen to her younger self,
pouring out her heart in praise of Lezziwig before speaking again. “She has
spent but a few pounds. Is that enough to earn so much praise?”

“It isn’t that,” said Carol. “She had the power to render us
sexually satisfied or frustrated. Her power lies in words and looks and things
that cost little but add up to a fortune.”

She felt the spirit’s glance and stopped.

“What is the matter?” asked the ghost.

“Nothing.”

“Something I think.”

“I should like to be able to let my clerk finger me a
little. That’s all.”

Her former self turned down the lamps and Carol and the
ghost were again stood in the open air. “My time grows short,” observed the spirit.
“We must be quick.”

Carol saw herself now as an older woman in the prime of
life. Her face had not the harsh lines of later life but there was an eager
greedy motion in the eye. She was not alone but sat by a young girl in mourning
dress, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“It matters little,” she said. “Another idol has replaced my
pussy and if it will make you come as I have tried to do in the future I have
no cause to grieve.”

“What idol has displaced you?”

“A golden one.”

“Not the gold dildo I purchased for both of us to use?”

“Another gold one.”

“You mean money? There is nothing condemned with such
severity as the pursuit of wealth unless you count anal before marriage.”

“You fear sex so much,” she answered. “All your desires have
shifted towards the pursuit of wealth instead of passion. Gain alone engrosses
you.”

“What of it? I am wiser for it. It does not change the fact
that I would like your face in my pussy on a regular basis.”

“Our contract was made when we were poor and content to be
so. You are changed. When we agreed to start fucking you were another woman.”

“I was young and up for experimenting with bondage and even
watersports.”

“You were not what you are. I am. That which promised
happiness, the tongue around an asshole in the middle of the night, is fraught
with misery now we are two not one. I release you.”

“Have I sought release?”

“Not the kind I wish to give you, the release of a climax.”

“What kind then?”

“In an altered spirit. Tell me if you saw me naked with my
cheeks spread apart right now next to a purse of gold, which would you choose?”

“I am unsure.”

“You are not. For the love of who you once were I will let
you go. Your memory of what we had when you used to fist me with gay abandon
may make you sad. This will pass. May you be happy in your chosen
spinsterhood.”

She left Carol and they parted.

“Spirit show me now more,” said Carol. “Take me home. Why do
you torture me?”

“One shadow more.”

“No more. I don’t wish to see it. Show me no more.”

But the relentless ghost forced him to look in at another
place. It was a room full of comfort thought not large. Near to the fire sat a
beautiful girl with many children around, the same vision as the last but older
now. There was a knocking at the door and a man entered laden with gifts and
toys.

Carol looked on as the master of the house sat with the
mother of the brood and said, “Bellend, I saw a friend of yours today.”

“Who was it?”

“Guess!”

“I don’t know. Carol Christmas?”

“It was! I passed her whorehouse and could see her in there.
Her partner lies dying and desirous of one last orgasm and there she sat alone
with her pussy dry as old parchment.”

“Spirit,” said Carol in a broken voice. “Remove me from this
place.”

“I told you these were shadows of erotic encounters past. Do
not blame me for what is gone by.”

“I cannot bear it.” She looked at the ghost and saw
fragments of many orgasm faces within. “Leave me, take me back. Haunt me no
longer.”

The light coming from the ghost’s cock seemed to go dimmer
and dimmer until only blackness remained and Carol felt herself in her bed, her
eyes drooping as she sank into a heavy sleep.

Chapter 3

Awaking in the middle of an obscene dream and sitting up in
bed to calm herself down, Carol heard the bell strike one. She felt restored to
consciousness in the nick of time to hold conference with the second messenger.

But the bell struck and no shape appeared. For fifteen
minutes nothing came although Carol almost did more than once as she squeezed
her legs together repeatedly. All this time a light shone upon the bed from the
adjoining room and at last Carol realised this spark might be the location of
the spirit, perhaps she was not the brightest spark. She got up and shuffled
over to the door, trying her best to ignore her growing desire.

The moment Carol’s hand was on the lock, a strange voice
called her by name and bade her enter. She obeyed.

It was her room but it had undergone a surprising
transformation. The walls and ceiling were hung with sex toys, ropes and
chains, all bright green and gleaming with life. The fire roared and heaped on
the floor were blankets, lingerie and bowls of phallic shaped foodstuffs. In
easy state upon the couch sat a jolly giant who bore a glowing erection, in
shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, held up high to shed light on Carol as she
peeped round the door.

“Come in,” said the ghost, “come in so I can come in you.”

Carol entered timidly and hung her head in shyness though
the spirit’s eyes were clear and filled with lust as were her own.

“I am the ghost of erotic possibilities present,” said the
spirit. “Sit upon my face.”

Carol reverently did so. The spirit lay on his back on the
couch whilst Carol’s nightshirt rose to expose her soaking wet pussy. She rode
the mouth of the ghost, feeling a light pass into her that began to thaw her
frigid insides. All too soon the spirit pushed her from him leaving her
tingling all over as memories of being licked continued to run through her mind
whilst he continued to speak.

“Have you had that done to you before?”

“Not in a very long time.”

“Have you seen one such as me before?”

It was clothed in a simple green tunic which stopped at its
waist, bare otherwise with a huge erect cock sticking into the air. It wore no
other covering.

“I have not. Conduct me where you will spirit. I went forth
last night on arousal and spunk and I learnt a lesson which is working now.
Tonight if you have anything to teach, let me profit by it.

“Put your mouth on my cock.”

This Carol eagerly did although her jaw had to stretch to
fit him inside. She licked along the length of his shaft, pulling her mouth
back to run her tongue around the tip, tasting the drop of precum which emerged
there. The spirit thrust forwards into the back of her throat, grabbing her
head to hold her in place as he fucked her face faster and faster until his
cock jerked and a waterfall of spunk poured over her tongue and down her
throat.

At the instant she tasted his cum, the room vanished and
they were stood on the city streets on Christmas morning where the people
scraped snow from the pavement in front of their dwellings and from the tops of
their houses. The sky was gloomy and there was nothing cheerful in the climate
and yet there was an air of cheerfulness abroad, the people jovial and full of
glee.

The shops were still half open, glimpsing through shutters
brought the view of almonds so white, sticks of cinnamon so long and straight,
cakes so spotted with sugar as to make the coldest onlookers feel faint and
then bilious.

Soon the steeples called good people to church and chapel
and away they went in their best clothes. At the same time there emerged from
side streets people carrying their dinners to the bakers’ shops. The sight of
them interested the spirit for as they passed he sprinkled a little drop of cum
on their dinners from his cock. It was very unusual spunk for when there were
angry words between people, a few drops of cum and good humour was restored
directly and they said it was a shame to quarrel on Christmas Day.

“Is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle from your
torch?” asked Carol.

“There is. My own.”

“Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?”

“To any kindly given. To a poor one most.”

“Why to a poor one most?”

“Because it needs it most.”

They went on, invisible as before which gave Carol
opportunity to stare long and hard at any persons she felt attractive without
feeling as if she pried too far into their modesty. Finally they reached the
home of Carol’s clerk, pausing at the threshold of his door for the spirit to
smile and bless Bob Fuckwit’s dwelling with the sprinkling of his torch.

Up rose Mrs Fuckwit, dressed in gown and ribbons, laying out
the cloth assisted by Belinda, second daughter, whilst Peter plunged a fork
into the pan of potatoes. Two smaller Fuckwits came tearing in screaming that
outside the bakers they smelt the goose and knew it for their own.

“Where is your father?” said Mrs Fuckwit. “And Teeny Tit?”

In came Bob the father with Teeny Tit upon his shoulder.
Alas for Tom he bore a crutch and had his limbs supported by iron frame.

“How did Tom behave?” asked Mrs Fuckwit.

“As good as gold and better. He is growing strong and
hearty, the little Fuckwit.”

In came Teeny Tit with his siblings and together they sat
beside the fire while the goose was sent for. Mrs Fuckwit took Bob into their
bedroom for him to provide her with lovegravy whilst mashing her shirt potatoes
before returning to the stove to produce gravy whilst the potatoes were mashed
with vigour.

At last the dishes were set on and grace was said. There
never was such a goose for tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness. Once
everyone had enough the pudding was brought out of the copper and the smell
brought watering mouths to the fore.

Dinner being done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept
and the fire made up. Then all the family drew around the hearth for a toast,
Bob proposing, “A Merry Christmas to us all my dears,” which the family echoed.

Teeny Tit sat close by his father’s side, hands held tightly
as if Bob dreaded his son might be taken from him.

“Spirit,” said Carol with an interest she’d never felt
before. “Tell me if Teeny Tit will live.”

The spirit was staring at the wall to its left. “I see a
cracking pair of tits passing by in the street outside.”

“Concentrate spirit, I must know.”

“I see a vacant seat and a crutch without an owner but what
of it? If he wants to die, he had better do it and decrease the surplus
population.”

Carol hung her head to hear her own words quoted back to her
and was overcome with grief.

“To Carol Christmas, founder of the feast,” said Bob.

“Founder of the feast. Fucker of my husband more like,”
replied Mrs Fuckwit.

“My dear, the children. Christmas Day!”

“It would only be Christmas Day that one would drink the
health of such an unfeeling woman as Carol Christmas.”

They were not a handsome family, they were not well dressed,
their clothes were scanty but they were happy, grateful and pleased with one
another and when they faded Carol had her eye upon Teeny Tit until the last.

By this time it was getting dark and snowing heavily as
Carol and the spirit went along the streets, glancing in at roaring fires and
cosy dinners, sexual encounters taking place in many homes to mark the season
of White Christmas. All of a sudden they were on a bleak and deserted moor
where masses of rude stone were cast about and nothing grew but moss and furze.
Down in the west the setting sun left a streak of fiery red before being lost
in the gloom of the night.

“What place is this?” asked Carol.

“A place where miners live, no not minors, miners before you
even ask. Here they labour in the bowels of the earth and yet they still enjoy
sexual encounters.”

A light shone from the window of a hut and swiftly they advanced
towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful
company within. An old man and woman were fucking by the fireside and in other
nooks and crannies lay other copulating couples, all them jolly and some gay.

The spirit did not tarry here even as Carol begged to
linger, they went on over the moor to the sea, passing over thundering water
until they reached a solitary lighthouse. Here two women who watched the light
had made a fire and joined their horny hands together before moving onto their
horny bodies, copulating merrily.

Again the ghost sped on until far from shore where they
lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel as a woman knelt
before him, teasing and toying with his cock as he hummed a Christmas tune.

It was a great surprise to Carol as she looked at the oral
skills of the sailor to see she was no longer at sea but now in the bright and
dry room of her step-nephew with the spirit by her side.

While Carol’s step-nephew laughed and rolled his face, his
wife rolled onto him, laughing to see his shocked expression when she whipped
off her dress and pressed his face to her breasts, riding him for all he was
worth.

“She said Christmas was a cumbug,” cried Carol’s
step-nephew.

“More shame on her,” she replied, “for cumbugs are the most
pleasant of bugs to be found in this world as you shall see.” She was very
pretty and prettier still as her cheeks grew rosy with excitement and arousal.

“I see it right now,” moaned the gentleman. “She on the
other hand refuses to see the benefit of orgasm to a healthy mind.”

“I am sure she is very rich nonetheless.”

“What of that my dear? Her wealth will not put a cock in her
ass nor bring sticky wetness to her thighs.

“I have no patience with her.”

“Oh I have, I am sorry for her for if she only knew how
delightful it felt to have a pussy such as yours clamped to her body. In
consequence she loses many pleasant moments which would only do her good.”

After they had both come they had some music for they were a
musical couple and the tune they played was familiar to the girl who fetched
Carol from the finishing school. When it sounded Carol softened, thinking she
could have listened to it for all time.

After music they played erotic forfeits, the wife was
spanked until her bottom was as rosy as the ghost’s cheeks, the husband made to
resist coming until his companion had climaxed twice by her own hand. Carol
begged to be allowed to stay until their sexual congress was done but the
spirit said it could not be done.

They played a final game of yes and no where Carol’s nephew
had to guess what his wife was thinking of when the only answers to questions
were yes or no.

“Is it something you can put in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Is it something you can put in your pussy?”

“Yes.”

“Is it something you can put in your posterior?”

“Yes.”

“Is it bigger than a bread bin?”

“Yes.”

“I have found out what it is. It is my cock.”

“No, it is a dildo but good guessing!”

“Perhaps I should give my step-aunt one for Christmas, it
might bring a smile to her face should she ever choose to use it.”

The scene faded away in the blink of an eye and on they went
to many homes and many bedsides, watching many orgasms at home and abroad until
they heard a clock strike quarter to twelve. “I see something behind you,” said
Carol as from the back of the spirit emerged two wretched figures which made
her recoil in horror. “Are they your friends?”

“They are yours. The man is chastity and the woman prudity.
Beware them both.”

“They are so thin and ill. Have they no refuge or resource
to turn to?”

“Are there no prisons?” said the spirit. “Are there no
whorehouses?”

The bell struck twelve. Carol looked for the ghost but saw
it not. Lifting up her eyes she beheld a solemn phantom, draped and hooded,
wanking with vigour along the ground as it approached Carol.