Phileas Fogg – A Memoir Pt. 08 free porn video

This is a FigCaption - special HTML5 tag for Image (like short description, you can remove it)

Many months passed after that night of nights. Dolly left my bed to embark upon the dress-making business that I prepared her for, enlightening her with a certain amount of business acumen and of course, sufficient capital to allow her to run the business without financial worry for some two years. Of course if this proved insufficient, I would gladly provide additional funds, for Dolly had been a superb companion — but like a bird whose broken wing has healed, she was ready to be set free.

I was keeping more and more to myself, seldom leaving Number 7 Saville Row to walk or ride through the streets of London, much less travel further about. My housekeeper and manservant had both become bold enough to chastise me several times about it and feeling guilty, I permitted them to do so. But still I persisted in sitting in my library reading book after book after book, exploring a wide variety of subject matter, among them, William Harvey’s ‘De Motu Cordis,’ explaining the miracle of the circulation of the blood, Galileo Galilei’s ‘Dialogo,’ proving that the earth orbits around the sun and not vice versa, and of course, Isaac Newton’s ‘Mathematical Principals of Natural Philosophy,’ propounding the law of gravitation. Through these and others, I became quite knowledgeable about the world and how it worked.

And so, I ventured out one Sunday afternoon to listen to a presentation to the Linnean Society that concerned a chap named Charles Darwin. I had been reading somewhat extensively on the resemblance or relationships between the several species, as for example, the lion and the tiger, and wondered why it was held that each species was created separately. Of course had I mentioned this aloud I would have been categorized as a pagan.

Thus the presentation served two purposes: One it had whetted my appetite for further knowledge on the subject and two, it was an opportunity to get out of the house after having confined myself to it as if a prisoner under sentence.

I shall attempt to explain what transpired both before, during and after the presentation at the Linnean Society as best I can and hope that I do not bore the reader to distraction in the process. By now the name Charles Darwin should mean something to the reader and going on that assumption I shall relate what was happening in July of 1958 and its aftermath. I should add that although I tried on several occasions, much to my regret, I never did meet Mr. Darwin face to face. It appears that Darwin was galvanized into publishing his views of ‘natural selection’ as it were, after receiving a fateful letter from one Alfred Russel Wallace on June 18, 1858 which resulted in the presentation to The Linnean Society and eventual publication in November of 1859.

That publication, ‘On the Origin of Species’ changed the general thinking of man about the world more than any other book — at any rate since the time when Newton propounded the theory of gravitation.

A bit of background might be necessary here: In the summer of 1831 Darwin was invited to join HMS Beagle as a naturalist while she was on a tour of duty surveying the southern coasts of South America. When he went on board the Beagle, Darwin fully accepted the hypothesis of the separate creation of each individual species. But the visit to the Galapagos Islands off the coast of Ecuador changed his mind and that of most of the civilized world forever. There he discovered a number of special kinds of tortoises, lizards and birds that were not found anywhere else, and yet they all resembled in a general way corresponding species found on the mainland of America, and were not in the least like species found on similar volcanic islands off the coast of Africa. How could this be if each species was independently created?

It seemed to Darwin that at some time in the remote past, chance had brought the animals to the islands, and that they changed there forms while isolated there. In fact, he convinced himself an evolution of species had occurred, though as yet he had no idea how it had come about. On his return to England he set out to demonstrate that continuous small steps of change could be found in the evolution of any organ of any animal or plant. It was a gigantic task for a single contrary example, if indisputable, would kill the entire theory. (The two paragraphs above have been compiled from material found in the Preface to ‘On the Origin of the Species,’ written by Charles G. Darwin for Heritage Press, 1963)

When, in 1858, Alfred Russel Wallace sent in his essay on the same problem, it was Joseph Hooker who arranged with Charles Lyell that their friend should not be pre-empted, and that Darwin’s and Wallace’s papers be presented together to the Linnean Society.’ (Richard Drayton, 2000, Nature’s Government: Science, Imperial Britain, and the ‘Improvement’ of the World, (New Haven: Yale University Press) page 179.

As it happened, neither Wallace nor Darwin was present at the meeting. Wallace was still in Malaysia and Charles Darwin was in the village of Down, where Emma and Charles Darwin’s child (Charles Waring) had just died from scarlet fever. These joint papers were presented on their behalf by Sir Charles Lyell and Sir Joseph Hooker and actually read by the Secretary to the assembled society. Of this 1858 presentation Sir Gavin De Beer has written the following: ‘On 1 July 1858 Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace made the first public statement of their theory of evolution by natural selection before the Linnean Society of London, and their papers were published on 20 August of the same year. The eighteen pages which they covered were among the most pregnant ever printed, and deserve to rank with those of Isaac Newton, since they provide for the realm of living beings the first general principle capable of universal application.’ (Gavin De Beer, 1958, Evolution by Natural Selection: Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace (Cambridge University Press)

What is especially noteworthy about this presentation at which I found myself so thrilled to be attending was that it would ultimately become one of the most illuminating discoveries of our time. Yet I am compelled to point out that although we now view Darwin and his collective theories as pure genius, perhaps no more unsuccessful scientific meeting was ever held, for the President of the Society would ultimately report that ‘no particularly important papers had been read’ that entire year! (Amabel Williams-Ellis, 1966, Darwin’s Moon: A Biography of Alfred Russel Wallace (London and Glasgow: Blackie), pages 143-145.)

As is probably well-known, Darwin did not ‘defend’ himself in public and when ‘Origin’ became a best seller, (the first edition of 1250 copies sold out on the day of publication.) Furthermore, every edition of ‘Origin’ published in Charles R. Darwin’s lifetime is different! He re-wrote every-single-one!

As I left the meeting certain euphoria came over me and I hailed a cab, asking that he take me to Regents Park that I might walk amongst nature while pondering the amazing information I had just heard presented.

I had been strolling along the various paths afforded by Regent’s Park which contains many fine avenues of trees, is much frequented, especially of a Sunday afternoon. I had just left the famous Flower Walk and was still savoring the fine floral displays of the season when I came upon another couple several yards in front of me. On closer inspection it appeared the female was but a young girl, and the male, a well-dressed adult of perhaps forty years of age. They were hugging and the girl’s excitement was quite evident. I was careful to make not a sound and watched thinking how nice it was that a father should take time to escort his daughter on a pleasant walk in the park. When to my surprise, the girl turned, closed her eyes and presented her lips for a kiss.

I stood stock still, hardly breathing and watched the scene play out before my eyes. The girl was babbling about ‘how mature people get ou
t and commune with nature,’ which was fine with me until she suddenly began to disrobe. She took off every stitch of clothing and placed each item carefully in a small satchel she had been carrying.

I fought to catch my breath, for her young beauty had certainly taken my breath away. This nymph was truly a Greek goddess. The male spent a minute or so protesting her sudden nudity, and paled when she sought to help him in removing his own garments. But she kept at it, and soon she was unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders. They she went after his trousers, releasing his belt, and allowing the trouser to fall to his feet.

He was looking around in fear of being caught in a most compromising position. I held my place, hopeful that the shrubbery I stood behind would hide me from his searching eyes. Evidently it did, and he went on disrobing until he was naked as a jaybird.

When I thought it safe to do so, I returned to my voyeurism, examining the girl’s simply divine ass just as she gasped with admiration at the gentleman’s prick, which had grown erect and bobbed about as he tried to figure how to extricate himself from this dilemma.

‘I ain’t never seen one like that!’ She said with honest, yet lustful conviction.

I wanted to rush over to them and show her mine, for it was a bit larger than her gentleman’s to be perfectly honest, but kept mum and watched with great trepidation.

‘I seen me brothar’s and me fathar’s ‘o course, but not like this one. Closest to this one would be a black stallion me fathar brought home from Ireland two, three year ago. Do yet mind if I touch ‘er?’

He answered her in a voice edged with raw fear and desire. ‘Go on, if you like.’

She reached down with both hands and did far more than touch it as she cradled it in the palms of her hands and then she kissed it, saying, ‘No one ever let me touch their before.’

Gathering his senses somewhat, he led her into the thicker underbrush, perhaps some 50 or sixty fee away, and then she turned and reached down once more, taking his sturdy appendage into her left hand.

They tried a kiss, twas no father-daughter kiss to be sure as it evolved into a passionate French tonguing type kiss. To me it appeared the young nymph did not understand why the gentleman’s tongue had darted out to lick the young thing’s lips until she opened her mouth to invite his tongue inside.

I held back from touching myself although I knew it would not require much in the way of stimulation to bring my own prick to expend it’s seed as he explained to the lass that, ‘This is how mothers and fathers kiss.’

‘Really?’ she replied, and with a delightful shriek that caused me to ejaculate in my trousers, she went after his tongue, sucking it voraciously into her own mouth. It must have been an impulse, although I cannot conceive of not doing the same myself, but he reached down and cupped her naked buttocks in the palms of his hands, rubbing his stiffened prick against her bare pussy mound and tummy button. The young girl tore her mouth from his and shimmied down his body until she came face to face with his rigid member, and taking it in both hands began to vigorously stroke him.

Within a minute they were writhing and twisting on the ground in front of me, his face in her crotch and his member in her mouth. It would seem the girl was born to the deed, as she used a varied technique, licking wantonly at the base of his corona, that most delightful of all part of a man’s glands. Wherever she acquired the knowledge to do this, I’ll never know. Later he told me she confessed it was all ‘instinctive,’ but still I must doubt her words, for she was too well practiced. Something she learned at home I suspect, but never shared with the gentleman. That he was well aware of her virginity was also clear, for as they changed positions, he began to rub his manhood between her creamy inner thighs, but never penetrated her even though it was obvious the girl wanted him inside her. Then it was too late, for he spent — sending long spurts out to bathe her tummy and the top of her hairless mons.

They lay there on the grass, sated for the moment while he massaged the sticky sperm into her stomach and inner thighs and she moaned contentedly next to him. That done, they kissed, sharing tongue, sharing spittle, sharing the very air they breathed, as lovers are wont to do the world over.

They dozed off and my legs began to ache from standing in one place for so long a time. And all that time I searched my mind for the best way to announce my presence, making them aware of my knowledge of their activities without doing irreparable harm to the girl.

I made my presence known, saying: ‘An interesting performance to say the least, sir, I saw it all, thank you.’

‘Blast you!’ the gentleman cried out, and raised his cane as if to strike me down, but I easily parried the blow with my own walking stick. He quickly realized that he was at a distinct disadvantage physically and decided on diplomacy as the more favorable course of action. It was while he was trying to convince me that I had not witnessed his coupling with the young lass that I recognized him as being Sir Alexander Baring, the financier, from a sketch I’d seen in a recent copy of the Times.

‘Mr. Baring, isn’t it?’ I said, deliberately omitting his title. I saw him turn beet red at the slight. Obviously I held an even greater advantage over him on having this knowledge. ‘And you sir, are?’

‘Phileas Fogg, at your service, sir.’

‘Do I know you?’

‘I think not. I am a fairly private man, not given to the social circles of London or any other city for that matter.’

‘And as a private person, may I assume that you keep matters to yourself?’

‘That would be a fair assumption, Sir, at least under normal circumstances.’

What is it you want, Mr. Fogg?’ Sir Baring said, coming straight to the point.

‘I can think of nothing you might offer me that I would remain silent on such a despicable act as that which I have just witnessed. Seducing a child— indeed — a man of your means. Should I speak out on this matter it would mean your ruin, of that, sir, I promise you.’

‘She’s not a child at all!’ he exclaimed loudly, and then realizing where he was, he lowered his voice.

I permitted Baring to see me eyeing the girl, who stood stoically, ignoring her nudity while watching us.

‘You say she’s not a child? You… young lady… how old are you?’

‘I dunno, sir. I ain’t been told.’ That said, she placed her thumb in her mouth and sucked it in a childish manner.

‘The girl is slow-witted. She must be nineteen or twenty by now,’ Sir Baring said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. ‘She’s the caretaker’s daughter. Surely there must be something?’ Sir Baring said, his flushed countenance gone pale. When I failed to reply, Sir Baring stared at me for a full minute. Then still glaring into my eyes, he said, ‘Mr. Fogg, perhaps you would be willing to join me for dinner this evening. That is if you have no other prior obligations. I should like to discuss this matter a little more thoroughly and in . . . more private quarters.’

I glanced at the young girl and noted she was idly plucking flowers making a little bouquet of them. She was apparently none the worse from her experience, if indeed she had experienced anything new minutes earlier.

Turning back to Mr. Baring, I replied, ‘I should be delighted, Sir Baring,’ I restored his title as a matter of course, ‘Where and when, sir?’

Baring gave me his address, asking that I be there the following evening. I accepted his card and spun on my heel and left them there, the girl still naked as the jaybird sitting and singing on a limb just above them.

***** Sir Baring and his wife, Abigail Courtney, welcomed me Sunday evening. For the occasion, I played the role of a business associate. During a most pleasant dinner a fierce storm arrived with
its lightning providing more light than the many candles and gas lanterns could offer.

Evidently something of great import to Baring had surfaced, but he kept it from me throughout the evening, instead he along with Mrs. Baring insisted that I remain as their guest rather than chance traveling home on such a stormy night. I accepted the offer, and having done so, realized it would be the first night away from Number 7 Saville Row in over a year.

Over a brandy by the fire, Sir Baring informed me the young girl with him in the park was Glenda, and she was indeed eighteen and more often than not served as a playmate for Baring’s youngest daughter, Rhonda.

‘How,’ I asked, ‘did you come to be on such intimate terms with her?’

He barked a laugh of smugness and replied, ‘Easier than one would think, my good fellow. My wife was bathing her as is our custom around six every Friday evening, when she suddenly smelled something burning in the kitchen. Of course, the caretaker was out at the market picking up the provisions Mrs. Baring had ordered earlier in the day. I was called upon to help with Glenda’s bath and did so. In the process of drying her, my hand was caressing most of her hidden parts, especially her pristine cunt.’

I swallowed most of my brandy, hoping he wouldn’t notice my own erection. Oh, Baring had one, a large one, if I must say so, he was relishing the retelling of his sordid seduction.

I rubbed between her legs most thoroughly, and evoked a very pleasant squeal from her lips. ‘Did I tickle you?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but twas a good tickle, sir. Could yer do it again?’

Well I did it several times, the last two without the drying cloth, only my bare hand. And to make a long story short, she agreed to accompany me on a walk in the park the following day. It was to be our secret.

When we reached a thicket with a small path leading into it, I told her that this was my favorite spot, for no one could tell I was in there when I sat quietly. She was most anxious to see if it was true, and we went in and sat, or rather, she sat and I knelt. We watched several passers-by take no notice of us before I made my next move.

‘Oh,’ I said, with some alarm.

‘Wha tis it?’ Glenda in her innocence inquired.

‘I must pee. My bladder is full and I must go.

There is a loo just down the road at the Inn at the edge of the park.’

Realizing that to venture that far meant we would not be returning to the secret place, Glenda thought quickly and said, ‘But Sir, might not you relieve yer self over there? No one can see, and we wouldn’t be leaving our secret place?’

‘I could, but I dare not, not in front of you my child.’

‘I won’t peek, I promise,’ said she.

Sir Baring gave me an evil grin and said, ‘I knew she’d look. Most young girls possess a natural curiosity toward the male penis and will go to extraordinary lengths to see one. I took a leisurely piss, and made certain she got a gander at my shaft. After I finished, I pretended I didn’t know she’d looked on, and asked her if she had any game we might play while in our hiding place.’

‘We could play show me yours and I’ll show yer mine,’ she offered.

‘How do you play that game?’ I asked.

She giggled in her sudden superiority. ‘Like this,’ said she, and hoisting her skirt, revealed her bloomers to my eyes.

‘And what shall I do?’

Her bluntness was astonishing. ‘Yer kin take it out again.’

‘Take what out, Glenda?’ I said feigning ignorance.

‘Yer Willy, ‘o course. Show me yer Willy ‘en I’ll show yer me puss.’

‘I don’t know. You go first. Yes, you go first Glenda.’

‘All right, then,’ she said, and hauled down her bloomers, and stood there in all her glory.

Things progressed rapidly thereafter and soon I was gamahuching her and fingering her. Of course with one so young I only had a small part of my finger in there, but it was pure heaven, pure heaven,’ Baring sighed, reliving the memory.

Same as Phileas Fogg – A Memoir Pt. 08 Videos

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 21
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 18

‘It was later that evening, Madame Bentley had come and gone and Passepartout was alone in Fogg’s quarters. ‘Faith,’ muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, ‘I’ve seen people at Madame Tussaud’s as lively as my new master!’ Madame Tussaud’s ‘people,’ let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London, speech is all that is wanting to make them human. During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 24
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 21

The detective and Passepartout met often on deck after this interview, though Fix was reserved, and did not attempt to induce his companion to divulge any more facts concerning Mr. Fogg. He caught a glimpse of that mysterious gentleman once or twice, but Mr. Fogg usually confined himself to the cabin, where he kept Aouda company, or according to his inveterate habit, took a hand at whist. Passepartout began very seriously to conjecture what strange chance kept Fix still on the route that his...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 22
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 22

The Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied—those which had been engaged by Phileas Fogg. The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait, and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to totter to a seat on deck. It was Passepartout, and what had...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 26
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 19

The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia, thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so rapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that time. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for India, some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the nearest route...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 22
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 15

I exiled myself to my residence on Saville Row, free to deal with my guilt each and every day. I read every thing I could lay my hands on. I grew a beard, shaved it off, then grew another and shaved that off as well. In no time at all a year flew by and I had not left the house at all. My housekeeper was the only person I saw or spoke with in all that time and those exchanges were brief, usually having to do with the meals for the following week. I had let my manservant go as he had little...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 24
  • 0

The Best of Paris WatermanChapter 8 Phileas Fogg A Memoir

Phileas Fogg's Memoir was one of the most enjoyable novels I've written. The following excerpt finds us in what is Part Three of that novel. It includes sisters masturbating and having oral sex with one another and with Mr. Fogg and a bit of voyeurism. At university the following morning I studied my fellow third year students looking for one who was truly my peer. I say this not because I'm a snob, although I may well be one. But because of the age difference and my military service,...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 25
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 29

PHILEAS FOGG found himself twenty hours behind time. Passepartout, the involuntary cause of this delay, was desperate. He had ruined his master! At this moment the detective approached Mr. Fogg, and, looking him intently in the face, said: "Seriously, sir, are you in great haste?" "Quite seriously." "I have a purpose in asking," resumed Fix. "Is it absolutely necessary that you should be in New York on the 11th, before nine o'clock in the evening, the time that the steamer leaves...

1 year ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 30

THE DWELLERS in Saville Row would have been surprised the next day, if they had been told that Phileas Fogg had returned home. His doors and windows were still closed, no appearance of change was visible. After leaving the station, Mr. Fogg gave Passepartout instructions to purchase some provisions, and quietly went to his domicile. He bore his misfortune with his habitual tranquillity. Ruined! And by the blundering of the detective! After having steadily traversed that long journey,...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 21
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 25

While these events were passing at the opium-house, Mr. Fogg, unconscious of the danger he was in of losing the steamer, was quietly escorting Aouda about the streets of the English quarter, making the necessary purchases for the long voyage before them. It was all very well for an Englishman like Mr. Fogg to make the tour of the world with a carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to travel comfortably under such conditions. He acquitted his task with characteristic serenity, and invariably...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 25
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 27

IT WAS SEVEN in the morning when Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout set foot upon the American continent, if this name can be given to the floating quay upon which they disembarked. These quays, rising and falling with the tide, thus facilitate the loading and unloading of vessels. Alongside them were clippers of all sizes, steamers of all nationalities, and the steamboats, with several decks rising one above the other, which ply on the Sacramento and its tributaries. There were also heaped up...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 28

THE TRAIN, on leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, passed northward for an hour as far as Weber River, having completed nearly nine hundred miles from San Francisco. From this point it took an easterly direction towards the jagged Wahsatch Mountains. It was in the section included between this range and the Rocky Mountains that the American engineers found the most formidable difficulties in laying the road, and that the government granted a subsidy of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile,...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 23
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 07

I am not about to give an opinion as to the propriety or impropriety of capital punishment. On this point good men have differed, and will differ, I dare say, for some time to come. What I wish to impress upon the reader is the horrible nature and atrocious effect of a public execution. Dolly and I were passing by Newgate a few weeks later. Twas a Sunday and outside the formidable prison a considerable crowd was gathering. There were respectable men with their wives and children staring at its...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 17

Part Seventeen And so the years passed with me spending more and more time at the club and less and less time with Eunice, although we did have our ‘special moments’ together. The most eventful happening during this period was that I found myself attending Nicole’s marriage at Westminster Cathedral. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered. I found my eyes filled with tears as she came down the aisle on her cursed father’s arm. It had been but six years since we cavorted about in...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

Phileas Fogg A Memoir Pt 14

Of course, Nicole confided in her sister Rhonda, and before I knew it her sister was flirting with me at every opportunity. But I had no intention of reciprocating her affections. Nicole and her mother were more than enough for any man. However, I was confronted with the problem of keeping the girls quiet about my actions with Nicole, to ensure no petty jealousies crept in and exposed us to either parent. For I was as certain as there is no avoiding death and taxes that Sir Baring would have me...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 24

THE detective and Passepartout met often on deck after this interview, though Fix was reserved, and did not attempt to induce his companion to divulge any more facts concerning Mr. Fogg. He caught a glimpse of that mysterious gentleman once or twice; but Mr. Fogg usually confined himself to the cabin, where he kept Aouda company, or, according to his inveterate habit, took a hand at whist. Passepartout began very seriously to conjecture what strange chance kept Fix still on the route that...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 23
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 17

And so the years past with me spending more and more time at the club and less and less time with Eunice; although we did have our "special moments" together. The most eventful happening during this period was that I found myself attending Nicole's marriage at Westminster Cathedral. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered/ I found my eyes filled with tears as she came down the aisle on her cursed father's arm. It had been but six years since we cavorted about in the woods...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 20

THE distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia, thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so rapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that time. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for India some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the nearest route...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 22

THE rash exploit had been accomplished; and for an hour Passepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressed the worthy fellow's hand, and his master said, "Well done!" which, from him, was high commendation; to which Passepartout replied that all the credit of the affair belonged to Mr. Fogg. As for him, he had only been struck with a "queer" idea; and he laughed to think that for a few moments he, Passepartout, the ex-gymnast, ex-sergeant fireman, had been the spouse of a...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 16
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 18

"It was later that evening, Madame Bentley had come and gone and Passepartout was alone in Fogg's quarters. "Faith," muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, "I've seen people at Madame Tussaud's as lively as my new master!" Madame Tussaud's "people," let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human. During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 19
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 19

PHILEAS FOGG rightly suspected that his departure from London would create a lively sensation at the West End. The news of the bet spread through the Reform Club, and afforded an exciting topic of conversation to its members. From the club it soon got into the papers throughout England. The boasted "tour of the world" was talked about, disputed, argued with as much warmth as if the subject were another Alabama claim. Some took sides with Phileas Fogg, but the large majority shook their...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 23

THE Rangoon - one of the Peninsular and Oriental Company's boats plying in the Chinese and Japanese seas-was a screw steamer, built of iron, weighing about seventeen hundred and seventy tons, and with engines of four hundred horse-power. She was as fast, but not as well fitted up, as the Mongolia, and Aouda was not as comfortably provided for on board of her as Phileas Fogg could have wished. However, the trip from Calcutta to Hong Kong only comprised some three thousand five hundred miles,...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 26

THE CARNATIC, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied-those which had been engaged by Phileas Fogg. The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait, and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to totter to a seat on deck. It was Passepartout; and what had...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 19
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 2

I am, sir," Dorian Gray went on, "a gentleman who has sold his very soul for a very foolish purpose -- to keep my youth and beauty." "Oh, come sir do you expect me to believe..." I stopped, clamping my lips shut remembering the events of the last hour. "I see you recall the rather strange sight of me being dashed against the pavement and run over rough-shod by the carriage, eh?" I could barely nod my agreement. He casually poured himself another brandy and offered me more of the...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 21

IN order to shorten the journey, the guide passed to the left of the line where the railway was still in process of being built. This line, owing to the capricious turnings of the Vindhia Mountains, did not pursue a straight course. The Parsee, who was quite familiar with the roads and paths in the district, declared that they would gain twenty miles by striking directly through the forest. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, plunged to the neck in the peculiar howdahs provided for them,...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 31

London was agog at the news of Fogg's accomplishment. Queen Victoria, on learning that he had risked everything, sent an emissary to Fogg's residence to request that he present himself, Aouda and Passepartout at court. When the emissary learned of the forthcoming marriage, he rushed back to her majesty with the news. Queen Victoria declared that they should wed at Westminster Abby a week hence, with royal flourishes and pageantry. The elated trio of lovers was still digesting this news,...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 9

That evening, following supper, Baring revealed his ulterior motive. The man was a complete cad. It goes without saying that he had a fixation on seducing young girls, but he now correctly assumed that I had one as well. "Mr. Fogg," said he, "let us get down to brass tacks, shall we?" "You have my undivided attention, sir," I said looking him in the eye. "You are aware that I have a... shall we say, propensity for young women. The younger the better, but not so young as you might...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 16
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 13

When Abigail left me, I decided to proceed with my seduction of Nicole even though it filled me with guilt and a certain dread of what would surely follow. A few minutes before ten, Nicole knocked on my door and inquired if I wanted some tea. Opening the door I found the scamp had it there with her on a tray. She smiled and then giggled, then said with a humorous sagacity far beyond her years, "Tis for our walk, Mr. Fogg." "Fuel?" I inquired innocently, knowing she meant to fill my...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 19
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 1

This then is my life from my viewpoint. At least that part of which I wish to retain for the rest of my days which are not all that many, I am sure. I was born in London in the spring of 1834. I had four brothers and three sisters and it happened that I was the fifth of the lot and the only one alive by the end of 1854. Life was hard. My parents tried to give us all an honest upbringing and decent education but could not compete with the likes of cholera, influenza and tuberculosis all so...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 4

October 1857 Several months passed quickly and I had all but forgotten the Mooring sisters. Still I had not had any but the slightest intimacies with a female of any age since that last afternoon of carnal wantonness. I concerned myself with getting my home in order, going to Sotheby's on a weekly basis and picking up excellent pieces, both of art and furniture and appliances. Finally, with the house fully furnished and both a housekeeper and servant hired, I decided it was time to look...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 3

At university the following morning I studied my fellow third year students looking for one who was truly my peer. I say this not because I'm a snob, although I may well be one. But because of the age difference and my military service, both of which have caused me to be more mature physically and mentally then they. Not only did I not find one among them that I thought might make a worthwhile contribution to my sexual dilemma; but I reached a decision in the process of examining them and...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 7

I am not about to give an opinion as to the propriety or impropriety of capital punishment. On this point good men have differed, and will differ, I dare say, for some time to come. What I wish to impress upon the reader is the horrible nature and atrocious effect of a public execution. Dolly and I were passing by Newgate a few weeks later. Twas a Sunday and outside the formidable prison a considerable crowd was gathering. There were respectable men with their wives and children staring at...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 16

But it was affection, not love that bound Mrs. Bentley and I together. We both came to realize it after a short time, but after her arrival I found myself venturing out once again, first to stroll along Saville Row, and then London of an evening. Once again, this time at Mrs. Bentley's urging, I grew a beard; and eventually I took advantage of my club membership and soon entered into what one might say was a virtual ironclad routine of rising at the same time each morning and arriving at...

1 year ago
  • 0
  • 16
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 10

On arriving the following day, I was greeted by Abigail Courtney Baring who provided me with a tour of their sumptuous home and grounds as a pretext in meeting her eldest daughter, Nicole. We found her in the music room. It was a high-ceilinged room containing a grand piano and decorated with wall paintings of satyrs and nymphs romping through a garden, very much like the one around the house, and accompanied by fawns playing pan pipes. The windows, which the paintings surrounded, looked out...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 67
  • 0

My Sexual Awakeninga memoir

My Sexual Awakening---a memoirIt was 34 years ago that I had my first sexual encounter, and it started me on a path that made me the slut I am. My parents werent real wealthy. We always had enough to eat and a place to live, but things like extra clothes and other things just werent available. In the summer i usually had nothing else to wear other than some really old cutoffs that were really tite and short from having been washed and frayed so many times. They were so short that my little butt...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

My Lovely Summer of 1941 A Fictional Memoir

My Lovely Summer of 1941: A Fictional Memoir By Katherine Day (Copyright 2006) One In the summer of 1941, when I turned 12, I found myself enjoying playing hopscotch or jacks with the girls, especially Wanda and Marilyn. Even though I was a boy, all summer, and almost every day, I was with the two girls, and it was easily the sweetest, most lovely summer of my childhood. I felt so at ease with the girls, and soon they accepted me as one of their own. We were together every day,...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 5

Doll, using her dainty left hand, gently stroked the length of my prick and on reaching it's zenith, spied a droplet of my seed appear at the tip. I pursed my lips and waited tensely to see what would transpire. I say this because women tend to react differently to the actions of a man's prick. While almost all but the most jaded are somewhat fascinated by this wondrous instrument, they go about handling one differently. That Dolly was no stranger to a man's pride and joy was evident from...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 6

And so it came to be that Dolly moved into Number 7 Saville Row with me. Neither the housekeeper, nor the manservant raised an eyebrow over it for which I was exceedingly grateful. Now I had done some introspective thinking around this time and concluded that I was not a very outgoing personage. I had few, if any friends. I had but few acquaintances; and worse I was perfectly comfortable with the situation. With Dolly as my daily and evening companion my sex life was more than enjoyable. For...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 18
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 12

"I truly believe I love you Abigail." "I love you too, Phileas. Now, please tell me why my husband has you here as his guest?" I was silent for a moment, thinking furiously. Then I began to tell her a blatantly concocted tale designed the turn her against Sir Baring and grant me leeway to her daughter Nicole. Knowing that the best of lies are as truthful as possible, I began thusly: "Dearest Abigail, your husband is a very wealthy man. I myself am not poor, but he has it within his...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 14

Of course, Nicole confided in her sister Rhonda, and before I knew it the younger sister was badgering me, "to do her like I did, Nicole." In order to accomplish this second seduction I had to obtain Nicole's permission. There were two reasons for this, and I know, dear reader that it was my assignment to seduce both daughters, but this was necessary to ensure the girls kept quiet and that no petty jealousy crept in and exposed us to either parent. For I was as certain as there is no...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 17
  • 0

Memoirs

"...a few hours later slowly escaping from the dream, I felt like I was leaving a place I had been for years, as though I belonged there. I woke with the images still in my vision and the most sensual feeling of waves of luscious moisture rushing over my body. I continued moaning uncontrollably, my feet digging into the mattress allowing my hips to flow forward, over and over again. Realizing at that moment I was gripping something I looked down to see my daughter's eyes closed and her...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 27
  • 0

HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARK a memoir

HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARK by Rumple Foreskin note: This is not a work of fiction. Only the names have been changed to protect the author from divorce lawyers and/or para-medics. It was a seductively beautiful Sunday afternoon in Central Park. Around the edge of a small, remote meadow, leaf covered trees, their limbs swaying gently in a light breeze, muffled the sound of distant city traffic. By some miracle, there were no portable radios blaring. The loudest noise came from squirrels and...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 21
  • 0

Last December A Memoir

Friends, you are reading this sex story on indiansexstories dot net There I am. Unexpectedly. But yes! Let’s track this from the beginning. I am Kushagra, an introverted, simple guy living in Kolkata. I am 23 years old blessed with a decent organ. After completing my degree, I got a job here and rented an apartment. My apartment is situated inside a society, so there are many blocks. She lived in the same block as mine on a different floor. I live on the fourth floor. The building has five. I...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 21
  • 0

An Exceptional Memoir

Hi all of indian sex stories dot net This is my fortunate experience happened recently which any red hot blooded young men long for. Many may not believe this but this is a real incident. This is between me and Deepa Sharma, a trainee in one of the reputed company. I am Anil, a school teacher. Even though I had gone through so many experiences throughout my last 8 years of a teaching career, this one is entirely different. I was staying in a Duplex with my friend for the last 3 years. But I...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 21
  • 0

HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARK a memoir

HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARKby Rumple Foreskinnote: This is not a work of fiction. Only the names have been changed to protect the author from divorce lawyers and/or para-medics.It was a seductively beautiful Sunday afternoon in Central Park. Around the edge of a small, remote meadow, leaf covered trees, their limbs swaying gently in a light breeze, muffled the sound of distant city traffic. By some miracle, there were no portable radios blaring. The loudest noise came from squirrels and pigeons...

Masturbation
2 years ago
  • 0
  • 19
  • 0

Sex Memoir

Reader, I will fail you. You want something from me, and I don’t have it. Maybe you want to cum, and you think I will help you, but I couldn’t care less about helping you finish. If that’s why you’re here, well, you’ll be edging the whole way through. Stop. You don’t want this. And if you’re looking for an entertaining piece of writing, you’re clearly barking up the wrong tree. You will quickly come to the crystalline conclusion that I am in dire need of an editor. The truth is... I’m using...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 34
  • 0

Nickys Memoir

By: AWC Just pushing the Penis in the pussy or an ass and then fucking as best and as long, as lustily before releasing the juices for each other is not even half the story of sex. Nicholas Rudders had been having sex for many, many years and he was known to all his friends as the Maestro of this trade. They all knew that there was not a girl or a boy in town, who would dare deny Nick for being under him after seeing his sex pole for the pure and selfish sexual episode of satisfying Nick’s...

4 years ago
  • 0
  • 41
  • 0

The Art Of The DL A Memoir

If you've never had a weasel hack your hand off, steal your jewelry, and condemn you to spend thousands of years roaming as an impotent, disembodied spirit, let me clue you in: it doesn't beat torturing your enemies, their families, and their neighbors slowly to death in terms of entertainment value. I should have known better than to back the little weasels in a corner and then go toe-to-toe with them. I could have just had the damn mountain flip upside down on Isildur for crying out loud,...

1 year ago
  • 0
  • 39
  • 0

Konrads Memoirs

Note : This story is completely fictional! Mid 19th century Hamburg, Germany I cannot really call this a chronology of my life as it is not detailed enough to deserve that title. Rather, these are memorable moments, plucked out of a rich history of a man, who now frail and old, can barely see the scribbles that are written by a liver spotted hand, trembling in disease that will be the end of me very soon, I fear. My wife Sophia, another cause of distress throughout my long life is kind enough...

Erotic
4 years ago
  • 0
  • 31
  • 0

The Colonels Memoirs

This story is a piece of fiction. To my knowledge no torturer has ever revealedwhat he did to prisoners in this amount of detail. It is based on testimoniesof some prisoners but a lot comes from the imagination. First Days Let me begin by saying I have read lots of stories about how we treated thefemale traitors and terrorists we arrested in South America . Some are verygood and if they had lived in my country I would have wanted the writers inmy team. None of the writers I have read actually...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 24
  • 0

Cottaging Memoirs

There are only so many ways that you can describe having illicit gay encounters in public toilets with older men, before it all becomes a slight variation of the same tale. What was always different were the nuances of the thrill leading up to those meetings. Whether it was the tension of standing at the urinals and checking out who was actually having a piss and who was looking at other guys cocks, or sat in a cubicle and listening out for a sign that somebody was up for a little fun, causing...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 45
  • 0

Emmas Wet Memoirs

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said. I’d never played this game, but I did want to see what his penis looked like. He showed it to me, so complex and unfamiliar. Neither of us had pubic hair, as young as we were, so I took in every detail. The small purple head, the pale bare shaft. All so different from what us girls had. “Can I touch it?” I’d never seen one before. Staring at it excited me. I felt my heart beating as he nodded and opened his pants further. Gingerly at...

2 years ago
  • 0
  • 34
  • 0

The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriess8e12 Marissa Foggan 35 Crazy mother

Series 8, Episode 12: Marissa Foggon (35), from Crewe We fade in on a pretty anonymous looking street in a vaguely industrial looking area – then turn the camera around to face one of the ugliest office blocks you could ever hope to see. Almost perfectly square, 13 stories high, and made up of square windows. It’s a 1960s concrete and glass study in boredom. Infront of it, a carpark for staff. There’s a sign reading, “RAILWAY HOUSE”, suggesting the building’s original purpose, whilst...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 19
  • 0

My Foggy Late Night Story

It was a cold, wet December night. Here I was in my room, feeling exhausted, and laying on my bed doing the whole Netflix and chill thing. I had just pulled a long afternoon and evening event with my college study group. We spent the day as total masochists painfully cramming whatever we could into our tired brains for our finals. It had worn me out so much that I didn’t want to do anything, including exercising, which was another problem I had to deal with since I hadn't exercised in nearly a...

Crossdressing
2 years ago
  • 0
  • 27
  • 0

A Little Red Skirt on One Foggy Xmas Eve

A Little Red Skirt on One Foggy Xmas EveSanta studied his long list filled with incredible detail and prolific boring analytical anecdotes in the typical poor writing and Elvish symbology. Darn Elves! Luckily his intuition provided exceptional perception and supernaturally decisiveness. Besides the really important list filled his left pocket in his own handwriting. That list contained prime talent and material in his mind and paramount in personal importance.He folded the ponderous Elvish list...

3 years ago
  • 0
  • 20
  • 0

The Djinn and I Chapter 17 Thursday A literal and figurative Foggy day

Chapter 17 Thursday - A literal and figurative Foggy day Thursday Aidan felt Bethany leave but could not shake off the malaise of whatever was affecting her, and sleep was the only thing that made any sense. An indeterminate amount of time later; Aidan drifted to a level of consciousness to hear them murmuring about something. The mental fog was getting worse now and Aidan was experiencing the same dream repeatedly. The crazy thing was nothing seems to stick from the dream outside...

Porn Trends