Work Text:
her fight and fury is fiery,
oh but she loves,
like sleep to the freezing;
sweet, and right, and merciful,
i’m all but washed
in the tide of her breathing.
and it’s worth it, it’s divine
i have this some of the time;
the way she shows me i’m hers and she is mine,
open hand or closed fist would be fine
the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.
30th of August, 1830.
Yesterday was the blessed day of my union with my dearest Helen; I have decided, now, to resume the diary I have so sorely neglected. I had never seen Helen in such high spirits as I had this week passed, nor Arthur, who seems exceedingly happy that not only will his dog have another friend and carer in its father Sancho, but that he will also have a real, loving Papa in me.
Arthur, the blessed boy, informed me this morning that his mother could not be calmed, that she was quite excited and unable to lie down for fear she might never wake up; it sounded quite exaggerated to me, for I knew Helen to be a tranquil, if sometimes tempered woman, but perhaps the thought of true love and happiness in her new marriage was exhilarating for her.
Thankfully, the weather equally reflected our moods: the sun shone bright, the birds sang and the wind was neither too strong nor too lacking to make us too bedraggled or too hot. I took great joy in perceiving my wife’s - I still cannot quite believe I can call my Helen that, after all our tribulations - my wife’s face as I lifted up her veil at the altar. She beamed at me, those expressive brows curved up slightly as those dark, grey eyes were welling with tears, but I was safe in the knowledge that they were certainly tears of happiness, not regret.
My wife and I returned to Staningley after the ceremony, and enjoyed a substantial wedding luncheon with our Arthur, aunt Maxwell, Frederick and his wife Esther, and my mother and sister. (and thankfully, not Fergus, who was ‘otherwise occupied’). The wedding, however, was not the most happy news of the week, for Esther had arrived at Staningley with child, delighting Helen to see her brother and beloved companion so well. It makes me wonder about Helen and I having our own children, expanding our little family and giving Arthur some true friends beside his little dog.
At last, though, it became time for us to retire to the bedchamber, after we had spent some time in the grounds basking in the glorious weather. I was, I admit, nervous; though I did not doubt it was not pleasant, Helen did have more knowledge and experience than I in the marital bed. I knew nothing more than what I had observed as a farmer, and what my own body had shown me.
“I am afraid this is where my confidence lacks,” said she, “Such intimacy makes me nervous.”
“It need not,” I responded, “My soul purpose in life now is to bring you the utmost pleasure, my darling, and never to make you anxious.”
She smiled at me with those lips I had once criticised as being too thin before I had felt their sweetness against my own, and turned around, allowing me to remove her several accoutrements. I draped her shawl on the chair, while she slipped out of her shoes and then I did the same. I returned to her, and began to unlace her wedding gown. While doing so, I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and felt my body alight with desire when she shivered under me. When her gown was unlaced, she stepped out of it and allowed me to remove her corset - and what she called ‘sleeve pumpers’, whatever that means - as well. She turned around, placed a kiss on my keen lips and went to sit on the side of the bed. I realised what she wanted me to do when she pulled up her legs a little higher in the air. I eagerly knelt before her on the floor, and my trembling hands went up to her knees where the edge of her stockings lay beneath her petticoat and chemise. I could not quite believe my rough, calloused farming hands were touching her soft, intimate skin, which was quite visible in me physically for my breath quickened and I was sure my cheeks flushed. I slowly pulled down her stockings on her right leg, feeling her skin as much as I could, almost as though I feared I might never touch it again. I did the same with her left, and this time pressed a kiss against her knee and looked up at her reverently with my head resting upon her lap, like a faithful dog awaiting its next command.
“Gilbert,” My wife murmured, “Do you wish to undress me further, or do you intend to leave me here waiting?”
I laughed, a sort of low, breathy chuckle, and stood in front of her, pulling her up to stand as well.
I proceeded to pull her petticoat over her head, muttering my annoyances at these many layers preventing me from my true happiness, to which she laughed and promised me there was only one more, a promise I was happy to hear since I was so ill-acquainted with a woman’s undergarments. Next, I divested her of her chemise, pulling it down over her breasts and stomach and hips until it dropped to the floor beneath her. I sucked in a breath when I saw her fully bare before me; her body was perfect, unlike anything I’d ever seen before - though, granted, my inexperience was great and I had quite literally never seen a woman bare before - but it was special all the same. Her breasts were full and slightly far apart, just bigger than the size of my hand. Her hips were wide and her stomach had very light stretch marks, I presumed from when she carried Arthur.
Before I could admire her much longer, she leaned forward and removed my tailcoat and waistcoat, untied my cravat and tugged my shirt out from my trousers and up over my head.
“Do you want me completely bare?” I almost whispered, too nervous to speak any higher. It was absurd, but I worried she may not find me to her liking; and I could not bear that.
“Yes,” She responded, “As you know, I do not like being the only vulnerable one in the room.”
She unbuttoned my trousers then, and when they fell to the floor I was just as bare as she. I pulled her in for a kiss once more, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me further against her until my manhood, which was now exposed and hardened, pressed against her. It did not make her afeared, though, which I had worried about - I knew enough from the glimpses she had told me that, hedonist though he was, her former husband had only sought his own pleasure, not hers, so her experience in the bedchamber was, at the very least, unsatisfactory. In fact, my body against hers seemed to produce an unexpected reaction within her that surprised us both; she moaned and her body went pliant against my own, needing me to hold her hips and steady her. I gasped myself when my fingers touched her delicate, bare hips; she was so soft, skin more smooth than anything I’d ever felt before.
"Shall we-," She murmured, leaning her head against my collarbone, I assumed for the purpose of hiding her intense blush from me, "Shall we go to bed, Gilbert?"
"If that is your wish," Said I, "You must direct me, Helen, for I know nothing but my visceral feelings."
"And what are your visceral feelings telling you, my love?" She asked as she led me by hand to the bed and lay upon it against the pillows, pulling me above her.
"Only that the only thing I want, or even need, is to serve you. To bring you pleasure."
"Well, then, do you intend to make good on those feelings?"
I grinned and leant down for another kiss, this time more desperate and wanting. I moved my kisses to her cheeks, her brow, her forehead, her chin and jaw. Every inch of her I wished to touch, so I dragged my fingers across her chest, over her peaked nipples, which, to my delight, made her suck in a breath, and bring her fingers up into my hair. I then moved my hand down to her stomach, gently feeling her belly where she had once carried Arthur and may yet carry another. I lowered my head and kissed her there, just above her belly-button, bestowing on her my love and devotion. I moved my head back up to kiss her breasts; I was completely following my own bodily instinct at this point, as I did not know what else to do. I dragged my tongue across one of her breasts, and used my hand to massage the other. Helen was whimpering above me, squeezing and pulling on my hair, which unexpectedly to me made me release a deep groan against her skin when she tugged particularly tight.
"Gilbert, please," Said she, pulling my head up to meet her gaze, "Would you-" she trailed off, blushing in embarrassment.
I kissed her clavicle and throat, then murmured, "Would I what, my love? You need not be embarrassed, for I know nothing, and cannot shame you."
"Would you touch my...quim?"
I admit, I was initially confused - I had some idea of the word, though I had only heard it in hushed tones and not fully understood what it meant - so I asked Helen for direction.
"Between my legs." She whispered, as though it was the most sinful thing she had ever heard, and could not be repeated. I moved down the bed parted her legs a small amount so that I could access her fully. I saw that her sex was flushed and slick, just as my own manhood had become on the occasions I could not rid her from my mind, when I lay alone in the depths of night: thus, I resolved to aid her. I experimentally slid a finger up her slit, and, when she whimpered and bid me to continue, I did so willingly. I dragged a finger around her folds and found a bundle of nerves that elicited quite a reaction in my wife, which made me only more eager to pleasure her further.
"Helen," I murmured, but she did not hear me in her passion, "Helen," - that alerted her to me - "Can I kiss you, there? Is that..."
"I don't- I'm not sure," She responded, pushing herself up on her elbows so that she could see me, "I imagine it would be pleasurable, all-right-"
"Then I shall do it, my darling, if it will bring you pleasure." I smiled at her, then gently lowered myself to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh; soft, warm, tender skin hardly touched by another. I slowly dropped a kiss to her mound, then grew bold and dragged my tongue across that small pearl within her. That struck a reaction in her; she bucked her hips and moaned, a noise like music to my ears, but something I had never experienced before. I peppered more kisses to her sex, and licked it again, quite delirious at the thought of hearing the noises she made again. This time, she wrapped her legs around my head - a glorious feeling, as she pulled me even closer to her, as close as physically possible - and I increased my pace, using my mouth faster on her. I swirled my tongue around her, focusing on the little pebble of flesh that seemed to give her so much pleasure, and continued doing so until she gave a final cry out and hit her peak. I watched her from my position between her legs; her lips were parted, eyes closed and cheeks flushed - a beautiful sight. She did not recover for a few minutes, so I resolved to lie my head on her thigh and contentedly watch her.
"That was..." Helen murmured when she became aware of me again, "Beyond comprehension-"
"You taste like the sweetest, rarest river; like holy wine on my lips." I responded, and moved my body to lie beside her and fully take in her countenance. It was one of bliss; I had never quite seen such a look, especially on her face, which was usually indifferent, if not stern.
"That is sacrilege, Gilbert," She smiled, "But I am persuaded to excuse it."
"It is truth. This act.. our love, it is God-given." Said I, resting my forehead against her own. She did not respond for a minute or two, but kissed me instead. I understood this to be acceptance of my words; I believe she knew how much I meant it.
"I believe you know from previous experience, Gilbert, how little I like to be indebted to people," She said, placing her hand on my cheek, smoothing her thumb over my confused brow, "And since you have pleasured me so greatly, I find it only fair I should pleasure you."
Though at first my mind did not quite process what I was saying, my body did - I gave a low groan, almost growl even, at the thought of it. Helen brushed her hands over my chest, feeling my broad, toned chest made strong from farming.
"You are so different, Gilbert. So good, so real." She whispered, tracing my nipples, which made me gasp, "You have experienced real life, felt hard work, unlike my previous husband... he had not known a day's struggle in his life. Your skin... it has history."
"My inexperience does not concern you?"
She smiled, "Of course not, Gilbert! Why should it? If anything, it makes this all the more special. I know that you did not marry me for this purpose, because you have never experienced it and therefore it cannot overshadow your love and commitment."
"Nothing could overshadow my love and commitment to you, Helen. I am devoted."
She leaned closer to me then and kissed me passionately, slowly trailing her hand down to my member. She gently stroked it, which easily elicited quite the reaction in me since the only hands that had ever touched it were my own. She then pushed me a little so that I lay on my back, sat up and leaned her head down to my manhood. She then did to me a very similar act as I to her; she swirled her tongue around the tip of me, licked all the way down and back up again. I felt nothing but pleasure as she used her mouth on me, the same I imagined she had done. I knew I would not last at all long; I knew my body well enough despite my lack of knowledge.
"Helen, please-" I moaned, lightly squeezing her hair. "I am not sure.." I trailed off, putting my hand in her hair as she wrapped her lips around me, "I am not sure I will last much longer."
Helen paused for a moment, "Is it perhaps better for us to.. you know," She blushed, her beautiful face flushing red with embarrassment from that despite what she had just been doing, "Before it spends and- softens? As it may take a while to.."
I nodded, "What should I do?"
My wife lay back, turning her head slightly with her hair fanned out behind her, and smiled at me. "Come here, and settle yourself above me."
I did so, both of us laughing a little as I positioned myself properly above her. Helen wrapped her arms around my neck, her hands tracing the top of my back. I knew what was to come next, so I aligned myself with her entrance and waited for her assent. She gave it in the form of a nod and then a kiss, reassuring me that all was well. I slowly entered her, watching her face as it happened - her eyes fluttered closed and her lips opened. As I went deeper, she whimpered, moving her hands so that she could wind her fingers into my hair.
I withdrew almost fully, then thrust gently back in; Helen's moans were glorious to my ears, as was her fingers lightly grasping my curls. I leaned down and kissed the silken skin on her collarbone and breasts, continually thrusting in and out of her.
"Gilbert," Helen whimpered, opening her eyes to look into mine, "So good, my Gilbert- I think God made you for me."
Her encouragements made my heart swell and my hips increase their pace. She was hot and wet and slick, consuming me altogether, infiltrating my every thought. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." I repeated it as though it was a prayer; a prayer for our sacred love and union, something so holy and blessed it was the closest to God I had ever felt.
"You make me feel what I have never felt before," Helen murmured, "Do you feel it, Gilbert? The wonder, the beauty of it?"
"Yes, yes, my darling." My voice trembled as I was losing myself in her walls that tightened around me, clenching with every thrust.
"Will you touch me, Gilbert?" She whimpered. I immediately did her bidding; I moved my hand down between her legs where I had previously explored, where now she was even slicker. I teased that bead of pleasure within her, watching in delight as my actions made her head push back into the pillows and her neck stretch. I took the opportunity to bend down and kiss her there, on the side of her neck, feeling how fast her pulse was. I maintained my thrusting, getting quicker and harder as we chased each other to our peaks and lost our bodily control. Our union felt like a miracle, like I was experiencing Heaven on earth. I was a complete supplicant to Helen - though I will never admit it to her as long as I live, for she hates being worshipped, being idolised as an angel - but I knew very well in that moment how real she was, how earthly, perhaps not seraphic but at the very least divinely human.
I stroked her folds while I thrusted until I felt her pleasure crash around my manhood; the feel of her peak was enough to finish me too, spending inside her. I almost collapsed atop her, my head resting in the crook of her neck and shoulder while we both attempted to regain ourselves. I revelled in the feeling of her breasts rising and falling in time with her breath against me - another reminder of her humanity, her pure simplicity. I fear I took a lot longer to recover than she, as I felt her winding her fingers through my hair and tracing patterns on my back with her other hand for a long while before I came to.
When I brought up my head, Helen was smiling at me, a beatific, serene smile. "Are you all-right, darling?"
"I am perfectly well," I murmured, "Perfectly, perfectly well."
I moved then, lying on my back and pulling Helen to lie on top of my chest. She hooked one leg across my pelvis and hip and rested one hand on my heart, listening as its beating slowed as I calmed down.
"I do believe that our marriage bed might be my favourite place to reside in all Staningley," Said I, tilting my head to look down at my wife, "I don't think I can ever leave it."
"We do not require just a bed." Helen responded, and she blushed immediately upon the words leaving her mouth, flushing bright red at her forwardness.
I laughed, "You are the most excellent mentor for this art; your knowledge seems to have no end."
We lay there in silence for a while after that, peacefully resting against each other and basking in each other's warmth.
"I think I would have regretted never marrying you. Never having a fresh start; never uniting with my soulmate." Helen whispered, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, "I can feel it in my heart that our marriage is right."
"We would always have found our way to each other, do you not think? I have only ever truly wanted you, and I could never marry under false pretences."
"We would- but let us not dwell on the past, hm? Let us focus on our future, what is to come, not what could have never been." She said, pulling the covers up over us and curling up closer against my body. I was not certain I would sleep the whole night, for I was too overwhelmed with love, and passion - with the beautiful simplicity of us, our union, our marriage. There was no worry about anyone else but ourselves, no worry about what others might think, say or do, for we did not care. I would not force her into anything like her previous husband had done, I would respect her opinion and expression, even if I disagreed (which was looking far less likely, for Helen is very good at persuasion when it comes to arguments) and I would always, always be faithful and devoted to her for the rest of my days and even beyond.
fin.