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Category: Erotica/Classic Erotica
Description: The final three issues of the scandalous erotic magazine of the Victorian age! Here are the conclusions to such pearls of erotic literature--"Lady Pokingham, or They All Do It," "Sally's Mistake," "The Marriage Morn," "The Sultan's Reverie," and the fabled, "Miss Coote's Confession"--all to be found in this final eBook volume. The leading erotic publication of the Victorian Age, The Pearl first appeared in London in July, 1897. It lasted for a short, but glorious eighteen months, and then vanished--a victim of its own underground status, for income could never catch up with costs. During its year and a half of publication, The Pearl, serialized six novels that have earned the status of classics in the field of erotic literature. The magazine also featured short stories and verse celebrating the sensual pleasures and the pursuit of lovemaking in all its myriad forms. The Pearl has received dozens of 5-Star reviews on sites like Amazon and eBookAd including this Amazon rave: "A classic of erotica, with something for everyone. There are generous helpings of homosexuality, male and female, along with plenty of heterosexual couplings, all with a reasonable literary flair." Sizzler Classic Editions has reprinted The Pearl complete and unabridged in six volumes, with three of the original issues of this scandalous, titillating publication in each eBook volume.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, 2004
eBookwise Release Date: July 2004

14 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [170 KB]
Words: 70000
Reading time: 200-280 min.

A LETTER FROM SUSEY.

About this time I received a letter from Susey, who, when the vacation commenced, went to her uncle in Scotland, and I may as well give her adventures in her own words:

My Darling May:

You remember the morning you took leave of me, I had to walk a mile to meet the coach. John Cox, my sister Jane's intended husband, came to start me off, and he carried my box on his shoulder as we walked across the fields and down to the crossroads where the coach takes up passengers. John told me he and Jane were soon to be married, and he said her belly was so big that it looked beautiful. I asked him what made it so big and he laughed as he said: "Why, Susey, because I have made a baby inside of it to be sure, you little goose!"

John also said that he was now obliged to fuck Jane behind, because her belly sticking out quite prevented his approaching the front.

He told me that he had a special message from Jane to me which was to be sure to do my pee just before getting on the coach, as I should have to ride for many hours and it was very painful to be obliged to hold your water.

"So," says John, "you had better squat down at once, and I can see your little cunt at the same time."

So I got close to some bushes and had a good pee and John had a good look at my cunny, and afterwards kissed and sucked it. Just then we heard the guard's horn announcing the near approach of the coach. So I had only time to give John's prick a farewell kiss, and then we hurried to the little ale-house at the crossroads.

The coach was full inside so I had to take an outside seat, and as there was no ladder I climbed up as well as I could. But I felt John's hand on my thigh as he stood beneath me.

When the coach started I looked at my fellow passengers and saw there were two gentlemen--one evidently a clergyman and the other, from remarks made, was his son, apparently about my own age. He asked me how far I was going and I replied, to Scotland.

"Have you never been there before?"

"No, sir," I replied.

"They have some very curious customs in Scotland," he said.

"What are they?" was my enquiry.

"The wearing of the kilt, for instance," said he.

"I do not know what a kilt is," was my reply.

"I will show you a picture of a Scotsman dressed in his kilt," said he, taking a book from his coat-pocket, and turning over the leaves, he showed me the picture of a tall man with naked knees and a short petticoat which he explained was the kilt.

I laughed at the odd figure in the picture and asked: "Do the Scotch girls and women dress like that too? If so, they must be cold."

"I wish they did," said he, "don't you, father?"

"Well, my son, it would have a very delightful effect, no doubt," said the clergyman.

I interposed: "But the poor man must feel very cold here."

"Not at all," said the clergyman. "When I was at college as a young man, I wore that dress once at a fancy ball a found it very comfortable."

"Did you waltz in your kilt?" I asked.

"Yes, certainly, and why not?"

"Because I should think the whirling motion of dancing would cause your kilt to fly up and expose your..." and I stopped suddenly--laughing.

"Bottom, you were going to say, my dear! And where would be the harm in that? Ladies like to get a glimpse at man's bottom sometimes," said he.

"I'm sure they don't," I replied.

"Oh," said the son, "you think the ladies would rather look at him before than behind, eh? Well, what do you say at this picture," and he moved aside the kilt, which was a separate piece of paper, and showed me the Scotsman's prick in full erection.

"That's more in your way, my dear," said he. Then speaking to the clergyman, he said: "Father, this young lady, evidently, from her blushes, thinks a man's prick is more beautiful than his bottom."

"I am very glad to hear it," said he, "for it proves that her education has not been neglected and that she has learnt from her catechism: 'What is the chief end of man?'"

(To be continued)