8. An interesting journey with my sister Charlotte

The next morning, I passed my small bag up to Henry, who would ride with us, seated up with Hopley the coachman. Charlotte handed her travelling bag to him and then mounted the coach.

Soon we were heading west on the road to Buckinghamshire out of London via the Chilterns.

A long morning's drive would bring us to Amersham. At first Charlotte and I sat quietly, I tried to read, but it was so long since I last made this particular journey that I found myself engrossed in watching the changes in the towns as we passed.

Then as Charlotte was extracting a book from the small bag that she had brought inside with her, something fell out of it.

What rolled across the floor, ending against my foot, surprised me, it was some eight inches long, of pale polished ivory, and I could probably have just encircled it with my thumb and middle finger. I knew what it was immediately, and there was no reason at all why my sister might not own one. I had just not expected to see one here and at this moment.

"It is not what it looks like!" She said with a rush as she tried to stop me when I leaned forwards to pick it up off the floor of the carriage.

"Actually," I said, looking at it in my hand with a barely supressed smile, "It appears to be precisely what it looks like."

"Very well!" She said huffily, as she took it from me "It is what it is, and it is mine! Is that an issue?"

"Not for me." I told her.

"I suppose that you have seen one before?"

"Oh yes!" I laughed. "Smaller ones than that and bigger too."

"Bigger?"

I held my hands some sixteen inches apart, and then circled both of my thumbs and forefingers together, to show the circumference. Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise.

"No!!" She breathed.

"Aye!" I assured her. "A godemiche, of carved ebony wood, heavy and anatomically correct too, with pills attached."

"Of wood?"

"Yes, as smooth as your fair cheek, my love, polished smooth and then oiled."

"You touched it?"

I nodded, "And used it on its owner."

Charlotte's eyes were wide, to begin with, they expanded even further at that. "She took that size?"

"With no issue."

Charlotte said nothing at this, merely putting the dil doule away in her bag, but I could see the conflict in her face. She wanted to quiz me more, but such a conversation with her brother would have been too unseemly. So, she settled for re-placing her bag safely so that it would not fall down again.

As she went to sit back down, a particularly deep pot-hole in the road jolted the brougham and pitched my sister almost onto my lap. For a moment we just looked at each other. I am sure she felt my cock lying along my thigh inside my tight breeches. I moved to assist her to regain her place next to me, but she stopped my hand.

Instead, Charlotte re-positioned herself on my thigh - and my prick - and arranged herself so that she sat on my knee, leaning in and across my lap. Even with her travelling coat, I felt her tight bottom, as she ended sitting on my hand. It was an instant of great moment. Sitting on my lap, as it were, she looked into my eyes and with her slightly impish smile asked about the ebony godemiche.

Our brougham was made some thirty years ago. Unlike more modern vehicles, when the hoods are up it is a dark cave, with just the windows of the doors available for light. When the coach is in motion with the sound of the wheels on the road and the horses, it is necessary to shout at the top of one's voice for the driver to hear an instruction, but at least there is little chance of being over-looked or over-heard inside. We would have fair notice if the carriage were to stop, so we were quite private.

I was torn. I had never actually thought through my plan to prepare my sisters for the outside world. I just had this vague idea that I would - somehow. I would use my worldly knowledge to help them - somehow. But 'somehow' was as far as I had gotten the plan. Now here I was with my sister about to engage in a frank, sexual conversation, with her seated in an intimate position, talking about my own lewd behaviour.

And she hung upon every word.

I surprised myself by seeing the possibilities of engaging my sister, sexually. I felt that that Charlotte was attracted to me, I felt the same for her, so why not, I asked myself? My conflict came from my growing relationship with her mother. Did I want to jeopardise that? I decided that I would see where it went.

I left my hand where it was, and reasoning that I might have to save her falling again, placed my other arm across her lap. She leaned in against me. It wasn't really that intimate, we both wore far too many layers, but I was enjoying the closeness.

It was obvious that Charlotte was still thinking about what I had told her, because next she asked "Would you tell me, brother, how it was that you encountered this monstrous ebony device?"

"Not long after I began my career in the army, when I was with the 45th in Jamaica, some of my fellow officers and I were visiting a brothel in Kingstown. And while we were drinking and consorting with the girls, the madame instructed one of them, a lithe black girl, to dance and entertain us.

"We cleared a space for her and one of the men who worked there played a guitar, and she began a sort of twisting turning dance. It was slow and sensuous, and well suited to her slim, and muscular figure. She had very long legs, I remember, and would swing them high up in the air, while gyrating her hips." Charlotte hung on each and every word.

"As she danced, she slowly removed her clothes - what there was of them, until she was naked before us."

"And was she pretty, this girl?"

"Pretty? I think not, her features were too strong and she had a hard set to her face. But her bubbies bounced and jiggled nicely as she danced. One of the first things that I noticed was that she had no hair upon her body there ..."

Charlotte gasped. "No hair?"

"Shaven." I told her, "Smooth as a baby, I found out later."

"And what about this thing," she said, "This godemiche then?"

"She took a rest for a moment and at that point a servant brought the mighty weapon to her. It seems that this was some sort of party-piece of hers.

"I will admit that seeing it caused me to feel a little inadequate. It was everything I described. Fully sixteen inches in length, carved out of ebony, polished to a shine and oiled, with coconut oil. It had a pair of pills carved at one end and a bulbous head at the other."

My sister was devouring this story, enjoying every moment of it, and I could feel her moving against my thigh.

"My fellow officers began to wager that she could not possibly take such a device. Major Raine who was our senior, decided that as I was the youngest that I should referee the wager. 'Ensign Rogeringham!' He said, 'You are excused the wager and will scrutinise the woman's efforts.'"

"By scrutinise, you mean ...?" Charlotte asked.

"I was to make sure that she did what she was supposed to and make sure that the godemiche was fully seated inside her.

"The dancer sat herself on a ratty old chaise. It was well-used, threadbare in places and stained with God-knows-what, but the madame of the brothel had dressed it up using scarves, so it looked far more glamorous than it actually was. Still, it enabled the girl to lay her naked body back on it and draw her right leg up, bent at the knee, toes downward, her smooth mound glistening with sweat in the warmth of the Kingstown evening.

"She grinned at us, her even white teeth gleaming in the light from the lamps, which also shone on her sweat sheened skin. Her grin got even wider as she placed the head of the godemiche against her wrinkled brown lips. She probed herself several times with it, placing the head just inside her cunny, just enough to dampen it with her juices.

"Once she had done this a couple of times, she took the wooden prick, and brought it to her mouth. The girl looked around her, her eyes wide in delight, but also acknowledging the lewdness of what she was doing as she licked the head with her long tongue, and enveloped it with her dark lips.

"'Get on with it, woman, fuck yourself with the thing!' Raine called out, breaking her lascivious spell.

"With a slightly vexed expression, the whore lay back on the chaise and bringing both feet up on to the couch, started to apply the wooden prick to herself.

"It was at this point that I began to wonder exactly how I would verify Raine's wager. It was long certainly, but I wasn't at all sure how long her cunny was, would she be able to fit it all in?

"Then I noticed that someone had graduated the godemiche, carving its length with lines around its shaft at what appeared to be one-inch intervals!" (This was how I was certain that it was sixteen inches, I told Charlotte).

"This was a show that the girl performed regularly?" Charlotte asked, "From the marks?"

I nodded, it was an astute conclusion, typical of my sister and one I had reached myself at the time.

"Slowly the black girl eased the huge wooden prick inside her, twisting her hips to allow her cunny to accommodate it, because it wasn't just long, it was thick as well. She looked at me as she did it, her eyes shining, with amusement and lust as the faux-cock filled her. One inch, two, three and then four easily slipped inside her.

"The girl licked her lips and she began to work the ebony cock in and out, masturbating herself for our pleasure and her own.

"Then as her back arched and she gave a grunt of pleasure, she pushed even more of it inside her. Six, seven, eight, nine inches of the heavy black wood rested inside her slick cunny.

"Once again, she paused in her work, and drawing a finger through the juices that oozed from her cunt lips, the girl placed it in her mouth, sucking on it like a thin prick. She did it again and offered it to me. Her juices were piquant to the taste, sharp, and yet sweet. I licked her finger like a supplicant, she murmured something in a mix of English and Spanish, then drew her hand gently down the side of my face.

"The girl began to apply herself to the task in hand. With over a half of the wooden cock already seated the girl took hold of it by the carved wooden balls and pressed it home.

"Ten inches, eleven inches, twelve, thirteen and then fourteen. By now she had lowered her knees so that they splayed out to the side of her, and she was panting. She looked up at me as if to ask 'is that enough?' But Raine wanted the whole thing inside her, so I rested my hand upon hers and gently pushed. Once again, her eyes met mine and she nodded. Leaving my hand where it was, she began to diddle her own clit - I assume she was trying to make more juices to aid its passage. Whatever she was doing, it seems to have worked.

"She moved her hand back, so that it rested next to mine, and I felt her press on the end of the godemiche. I watched as the fifteen-inch mark disappeared up inside her. Finally, only the swell of the carved wooden balls stopped it going further and the mark for the sixteenth inch could be seen resting against her wrinkled, brown cunny lips. At this point the black whore lay back on the couch recovering her breath, her skin glistening with her perspiration, and she grinning widely.

"'Done!' I told Major Raine, 'All sixteen inches sir.' My brother officers began to settled their bets.

The girl lay next to me panting, the dark skin of her belly and small tits rising and falling as she recovered her breath.

"'Finish her off, Rogeringham!' the major roared behind me, 'The girl's done a good job! Only proper to bring her off.'

"The whore nodded when I looked at her, so, I took a firmer grip of the thing and worked it inside her. I was still mesmerised by how much of it was actually inside and also worried that if I pressed too hard, I would somehow impale her upon it and it would emerge from her mouth. She must have sensed my caution even as she was enjoying the sensations and uttering all sorts of encouragement in a mix of English, Spanish and the local patois, because she placed one of her hands on mine and urged me deeper, until it found a resistance to its progress. At that point she pressed my hand back slightly, the message was clear - 'no further than that'.

"Back and to it went. In and out, back and to, back and to, all the while the lithe, angular body of the girl writhed in pleasure. It gave me a strange sense of power, after all, it was the first time I had masturbated a female, and I began to experiment with my movements, shifting the weight of the heavy wooden tool so that it stimulated different regions of her cunny.

"I found the experience so interesting in a detached sort of way, that when the girl spent - with a great groan and a gush of fluids, adding more stains to the worn cloth of the chaise, it came as quite a surprise.

"My fellow officers had all but forgotten me - they were all interested in the women that were surrounding them, and I was at something of a loss, as I had now accomplished my own mission but the girl on the couch had other ideas, and she began to undo the fly of my breeches, licking her lips as she pulled my cock out."

"Dear lord, William!" Charlotte cried, "What an adventure!"

By now Charlotte had rested her hands on my shoulders and was holding onto me against the rocking of the coach. I felt that if I moved my head forwards just an inch, then our lips would touch, but unfortunately, I heard the coach slow and come to a stop.

"The Fox Inn, Your Grace," Hopley announced, as I looked at him through the open window. Charlotte, concealed behind me, was making herself presentable. "The horses need to take their rest Your Grace, and it is blowing up black as a bag sir. It will rain, I fear and heavily. The road is bad as it is, sir, a heavy rain could make it impassable."

"Very good Hopley, enquire if there are rooms available, one each for myself and Lady Charlotte and one for you and Henry. We shall wait out the storm if we can."

He came back looking most upset. "They only have the one room, Your Grace, at least only one that would be fit for yourselves sir. Henry and me - we're okay in the stables, but they're full up otherwise."

"Good man, Hopley, I'm sure we will cope." I said looking at Charlotte, "We'll take the room. Here's ten shillings, take care of the horses and then look after yourself and Henry, we'll see how this goes forward tomorrow."

Henry carried our bags into the inn where one of the landlord's boys took them to a nice enough room. Fortunately, there was a couch in the room. Charlotte immediately sat down on it and started to make herself comfortable.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Well, you are the 6th Duke of Norton, fresh come to your inheritance, it wouldn't be fitting for Your Grace to sleep on a couch ..." She smirked.

I put her bag onto the bed and spread my travelling coat out on the couch to ensure it would work as a blanket.

"You shall sleep in the bed," I told her. "I have slept in far worst places than on a couch, this will do very well."

We dined in the inn's private dining room, and the food was excellent. There was a soup of late vegetables, some mutton and boiled potatoes with a thick, tasty gravy, and an apple pie - made with sweet apples, the last from the store cupboards - for a dessert. None of it was fine dining but all of it was warming and very edible. The cook was the inn-keeper's wife, and she seemed embarrassed when I asked to meet her. But both Charlotte and I praised her, and she seemed pleased when she left.

On returning to our room, I sat smoking my pipe and drinking a tot of rum, while Charlotte washed.

When she was done, I washed as she made ready for bed, and then I turned down the lamp so that it was just a dim glow.

"Have you really slept in worst places?" Charlotte asked as I settled myself, dressed in just my shirt and under-breeches, under the heavy coat.

"When it comes to picking billets, colonels, majors and captains all get their choice before an ensign. As the lowest of the commissioned ranks, you often have to stand watch, so you have to make do as best you can. But that is the trick of it - making the best of your situation. How is the bed?"

I heard Charlotte snuggle down in the sheets, "It is very nice," she said with an audible smile in her voice. "It's clean and it smells sweet and fresh."

"Good night, Charlotte." I bade her.

"Goodnight, William." She said, there was a pause of a few minutes, when I thought that she was asleep, followed by "William?"

"Yes?"

"You know your story about the girl with the godemiche?"

"Yes?"

"Did you sleep with her? Afterwards, I mean."

I chuckled. "Sleeping was the last thing on her mind. She was a whore, Charlotte, she earned her crust by fucking for money. If she was sleeping, she wasn't earning."

I heard my sister sigh. "What is the matter?" I asked.

Her voice was wistful, almost sad. "It sounds like you have had so many incredible experiences. You've been travelling, been in battle, your Jamaican harlot, it all sounds so interesting."

"I'm lucky to have survived some of it," I reminded her. "During the crossing to the West Indies, we could easily have sunk, and there were several times when French soldiers tried to end my branch of the Rogeringham line, long before I was ready for it."

"But at least you have been there and done those things."

"Some of them, I will admit I am not proud of," I said, "But what use is an experience unless you learn from it?"

"And what have you learnt from all of your experiences?"

Charlotte's question made me think for a moment. I had grown up desiring my mother, the goal of my adult life was to make her mine. As well as the art of war, I had learnt the art of love and explored the many ways in which men and women can be intimate. My aim in all of that had been that when I did at last lie with Helena - as man and woman, our pleasure could be the utmost in its nature.

So, what had I learnt? The first thing ...

"William?" I realised I had not yet answered Charlotte's question.

"I think the most important thing I have learnt is how short life can be and how one should take one's pleasures when one can. Take love, for example, much pleasure is to be had from making love, but also from fucking for its own sake." I said, as I cast my blanket - my coat - off and rose from the couch. I had made a decision. Walking over to the bed I lifted the covers.

Charlotte moved over, and I slid in next to her. She looked at me, as I lay on my side looking down at her. I stroked a hair off her face.

"You and I have been closer for longer in our lives, more than some men and women ever are." I said to her. She nodded as we pressed together, I could feel the heat of her body through our night clothes. "So, I am telling you before any other, that I am completely devoted to our mother and would make her my wife if a way can be found. I tell you this, not because I think less of you, but because of our promise to always be honest with each other." Charlotte nodded, happily, I thought.

"And because of that promise I will also tell you, that she and I have already shared a bed." My sister's eyes went wide in shock, and then she laughed.

"You dog, William! There I was urging you on, and you were already there!" She laughed again and pressed herself closer, I reached my arm around her and pulled her against me, as I moved down the bed.

"What of us then?" I asked. I decided that I was quite ready to have my sister if she so wished, as well as my mother, though how I would reconcile it with Helena was a bridge to be crossed when I came to it.

"I think that you are correct," she said. "Men and women should take pleasure where they can. I realise that I may have to marry in the future, but if I tell you that I love you too, William, and of all the men in the world, there is no man I can think of that I would like more to be my first, what would you think?"

"! would count it a great honour, Charlotte, if you are certain, that is?"

"Very much so." Her hand slipped from under the bed clothes and she touched my chest, tenderly.

"Here? In an inn?" I asked.

"Well, I would prefer a grand boudoir with attendant maidens seeing me to my bed - where you wait for me ..." She laughed. "But as we are both here, now, it seems as good a place as any."

I stood up and took off my under-breeches and my shirt, and climbed back into the bed.

Charlotte clung to me as I kissed her. I slid my hand up inside of her chemise, feeling the smooth skin of her thigh, and the soft hairs of her bush, as she rolled her hips and let me explore her freely.

Her eyes closed as my fingers sought her jewel, pressing down between her thighs. A tiny sigh of pleasure, escaped her lips.

Charlotte's skin was smooth under my hand, her body well-toned, and as my fingers glided lightly across her flesh, her sighs of pleasure became a shiver that danced across her body.

"Do you have your toy, Charlotte?" I asked, cupping her breast and using my thumb, lightly flicking at her nipple.

"Yes," she breathed, "But it never feels like this."

"Show me." I told her. "Fetch it from your bag."

"We are going to ...?" She asked nervously.

I kissed her on the lips and told her that we were. "But I want you to show me how you use it on yourself first." My voice was soft and loving but my tone was sufficient that she knew that I was telling her what to do.

Charlotte drew her chemise up and over her head. Now she lay naked beside me.

Cautiously at first, her hand replaced mine on her right breast, her finger and thumb gripping the nipple between them, her other hand diving between her thighs. She tweaked at the nipple, whilst still cupping the breast, and diddled her cunny, before inserting the ivory godemiche. Her eyes closed and she gained an air of concentration, as her hands moved. Suddenly Charlotte switched her hand from her breast to her quim, pressing it down hard on top of the other hand.

Her thighs pressed together as she twisted and rolled on the bed, while a rosy blush grew on her chest. All of a sudden, she started to shake and tremble in an orgasm. I slid my finger in next to hers and finding her clitoris kept the orgasm roiling her until she fell back limp on the mattress.

I leaned down and kissed her. My sister smiled up at me, she could feel my fingers still in her cunny, poised, not moving.

"Why did you have me do that?" She asked.

"At the risk of sounding dispassionate," I said, as I lowered my head and kissed her nipples, "I wanted to know at which level I should start."

"Which level?" She laughed, in mock indignation.

"Well ..." I said with a meek voice. "Are you a blushing maiden? Do you need gentle touches? Or will you faint at the slightest feel of my hand upon your breast, and run for your mama when I offer my prick to you?"

An amused smile played across my sister's lips, as my hand rested upon her belly.

"Or were you on a level with a Kingstown harlot who would only be satisfied with a huge wooden godemiche, and then need a dashing young soldier afterwards for dessert?"

"And which is it that you think I am, brother?" She asked eagerly, returning my kisses and stroking my chest.

"In truth," I said, "Delightfully, somewhere between the two."

"William?" Charlotte drew me closer to her, clutching me tightly.

"Yes?"

"Take me brother. Take me as hard or as soft as you wish. I am ready. I need you. Your words have excited me, your touch more so!

"This!" She reached out and took hold of my cock. "This is a wonder!" She said, suddenly focussing on it, "It is both hard and soft at the same time!" Her warm hand fondled my hardness, making it swell even further.

"Now, take this and fuck me, brother, fuck the blushing girl out of me and fuck the woman in, before I use you like my ivory companion and do it myself."

I laughed, as I moved over her, Charlotte was every bit as passionate as I thought she would be, her words showed it, her responses showed it, and she was ready. I slipped inside her easily. There was little resistance and as a result Charlotte felt no pain as I did. She did feel something though.

"Oooh!" Charlotte's face was amused and surprised at the sensation. "It's different from the dil doule. It goes in further!"

I helped her open her thighs by hooking my hands under them and bringing them up.

"MUCH further!" She observed, "Oh William! William, I like this!"

In a very natural way, my sister reached up and around my shoulders, bringing my head down to kiss her, but also helping me gain further purchase.

"Oh yes! This is so good."

"This. Meets. Your. Approval?" I grunted.

"Oh, most definitely!" She laughed, as she picked up on my movements and began to match them. "The pleasure is ... It is so ... Oh my dear God!" It appeared that Charlotte was having a problem expressing herself. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!"

Charlotte's previous orgasm had been strong, rippling through and shaking her. This one also took her and shook her thoroughly. My sister bit her tongue to prevent herself from crying out too loudly, but her eyes rolled up in her head and her fingernails dug deeply into my back, while her hips twitched and flexed as if to draw me further inside her.

I did not come, but I paused in my thrusting, easing off my motion, as she lay there in a state of orgasmic bliss.

Finally, she spoke. "I love you, William."

"And I love you too." I told her, pausing. Charlotte drew herself to me, clinging tightly to me.

"No." she told me. "I have always loved you as my brother, that will never change. But what you have done for me tonight, not only do I love you more, but you will always be the uppermost in my heart."

I kissed her.

"I know mama, will always be the foremost love of your life," she continued, "But I hope I shall always have a share of your love as well."

"You already do, my sweet," I told her and I meant it. "You already do."

There was a moment that I can only describe as loving, where we both held each other tightly, our naked bodies pressed together, then Charlotte smiled at me and said quietly, "Now finish fucking your sister, William. I cannot wait until I feel you spend inside me."

Her tone was imperious, commanding, leaving me with little choice but to fuck my sister. For a beginner at the game of love, Charlotte was an excellent pupil. I put this down to her intelligence and the enthusiasm with which she embraced it whole heartedly. Soon, I felt my own cum build, and started to pump harder.

Charlotte felt something was changing and she lewdly encouraged me, "Shoot William, shoot your spend deep inside me!" She whispered in my ear.

"Fill my hole with your seed brother. Fuck me, William, fuck it up inside of me_eeeee!"

This last, Charlotte's quiet squeal of passion, was said as we both felt my cock harden and jerk. My body stiffened as I exploded in my sister's womb, and then as it repeated, I thrust her upwards several times.

I collapsed beside my sister, who lay quietly for a moment, her hair spread out on the pillow, her breasts rising and falling as she recovered her breath, her erect nipples, moving with each movement of her chest.

She turned to me and kissed me - once, "Thank you for making me a woman." Twice - "I love you, William." And the third time - because of the pleasure it brought, "It is SO much better than doing it yourself!"

I could not help but smile at the way this had all fallen out. Obviously, I had not set out to make Charlotte my lover, but, I thought, it would be a shame if this was going to be the only time that we made love. My sister was a delightful fuck, even now she was peeling back the blankets to expose my shrinking prick.

Taking it in her hand she toyed with it, moving so that she could see it clearly.

"When you shoot, you're quite copious, aren't you?" She asked, touching herself as she compared the mess that covered both of us.

"I have not spent these last two days." I told her.

"Can you do it again?" she asked hopefully.

"Not immediately," I said, as she wiped her hands on my chest, "I need some time to recover."

Charlotte gave a little moue of disappointment.

"Truth be told," I observed, "It is getting late anyway, and we should sleep."

Charlotte nodded, as she traced the shape of the scar on my side. "You are correct," she said wistfully. "But I see that I will have to negotiate an agreement with mama."

"For what?" I laughed.

"To arrange with her that I can loan you on occasion." She said simply.

"And it matters not, that I am the duke and your lord? Do I not get a say in this?"

"Oh no William." She told me, with an amused smile. "None whatsoever."

"And when you marry?" I asked. "After all, that is the ultimate goal in all of this, how will you proceed then?"

"IF I marry, then I shall simply arrange to visit you and be unfaithful to my husband, and cuckhold him." She laid her head upon my chest, whilst still toying with my cock, in her warm hand. "Though to be honest I am actually reconsidering the idea of marriage. If I can find such pleasure at home, why leave?"

I could hear the jest in her voice and brought my hand down loudly on her exposed round bottom cheeks.

"OW!" Charlotte exclaimed in mock indignation. "Why did you do such a thing?"

"Merely exerting my authority as the head of the household. If your wish is to be part of my seraglio, Charlotte, you must learn discipline suitable to your place."

My sister grinned at me, and said "Yes my lord, yes my master." Her lack of meekness and sincerity was plain to see. I kissed her again.