On arrival at Port Royal, we learned that the American War of Independence had broken out and the captain found orders awaiting him from the owners containing instructions to sail for Trinidad with the new governor, Sir Charles Stanhope, and to provide accommodation on board the ship for his family, consisting of his wife, the Hon. Lady Stanhope, their daughter and their attendants.
We had some delay, however, for the governor required a few days to make preparations for his leave; so the captain decided that Laura's marriage should take place in the interval before sailing.
Accordingly, we all went on shore, and she and Mat Yeats were duly spliced, the captain and I being the legal witnesses.
Our party was increased by an old friend of the captain's, whom he called Johnny and who was accompanied by a young coloured lady, full of life and fun. I don't know her real name, but they called her Miss Betty.
After a grand feed and plenty of champagne, we drove to a country village, where rooms had been engaged for the night.
Mat and his bride were put into a carriage, and as they drove off with blinds down, we threw old shoes and handfuls of seed after them, and wished them a happy fruitful conjunction.
We soon followed in an inside vehicle, called a buggy, with a black driver on the box. I sat by the side of Johnny with the captain as my vis-a-vis; he had his arm around Betty and his jovial face in close proximity to her blooming cheek.
Altogether, we were a very merry party. The occasion, the exhilarating character of the day, and above all, the wine we had taken combined to elevate our spirits and excite our amorous emotions and desires.
Our fist difficulty was how to stow away our legs; the captain would have it, that, contrary to the usual custom the natural way was for the gentleman to place his legs between those of the lady opposite him.
We objected, but as Johnny declared that the vehicle was the captain's ship for the time being, we were bound to obey his commands.
In the little scuffle that ensued, Betty was discovered to have blue garters. Johnny praised their beauty and said that he was sure mine were equally pretty, and that I ought to favour the company with a view.
The captain applauded his proposal, and kept my legs asunder, while he tried to pull up my coat, to the great amusement of our black driver, who looked over his shoulder, and grinned from ear to ear.
Miss Betty, who fully entered into the fun, exclaimed, 'Queenie's garters are pink, I know, but she has something higher up of a richer colour, and more worthy of your inspection.'
'Speak for yourself, Miss Sly boots,' I replied, 'what is the colour of your own?'
'Hi,' cried the captain, placing his knees under my thighs, and tilting me backward, while Johnny peered up between my legs; 'that's the way – run the possum to his hole.'
'Ha, ha,' laughed Betty, who was bent on mischief, 'it is all ver well to talk of the possum's hole, but I see no signs of the creature himself.'
'You shall not have that long to wait, Miss Betty, for here is one possum,' drawing out his tool, in full erection, 'and I dare say Johnny can favour us with another.'
Johnny needed no pressing. The buttons of his trousers were hastily unfastened, and out sprang a noble prick, full nine inches long, lifting its glowing head in proud erection.
'There, I told you so,' cried the captain, 'look at it, Queenie. Put your dainty little hand on it – oh – ah – it is so nice."
Meanwhile Betty directed her attention to the captain's affair, to his great delight. She opened his clothes down the front, so as to be able to pull out his balls with it, then thrusting her hand in underneath, she pushed on until she reached his bottom with her finger, while she frigged in the most delicate and skilful manner his throbbing, bounding prick.
His hands, you may be sure, were equally busy with her fat bottom, and moist gaping cunt.
Johnny and I were carrying on a similar game; he titillated my cunt into such a mad sate of excitement that I willingly acceded to his request to sit with my naked bottom on his lap, and allow his prick to poke up between the lips of my cunt.
It was well we were on a quiet country road out of the way of observation, or some of us might have come to grief, for our intense excitement made us rather forgetful of the requirements of society, at least in public. However, on this occasion we only met a few black people and deemed ourselves tolerably safe.
So I slid over Johnny, making my buttocks rub with delicious friction against the hairy surface of his belly; then lifting my dress in front that the captain and Betty might see what we were doing, I raised myself sufficiently high to put the firm head of the tool in the furrow where I intended it to work, and pressing down, soon placed it out of view.
'Bravo,' shouted the captain. 'Queenie has, as usual, taken the lead. Let us follow in her wake, and lifting Betty's leg over his, he told her to hoist her stern while he plugged the leak she had there with his oakum rammer.
Miss Betty, being evidently used to the sport, did not hesitate to obey, and uncovering her broad luxurious backside she held her bottom over his lap, while he with skilful fingers fixed the head of his eager prick at the inner opening of her cunt; then she pressed down, and with a rollicking laugh exclaimed, 'I have possum now. Oh, how he pokes his head and dances in his hole.'
Both men discharged immediately, as might be expected, but as they found the situation so agreeable, they begged us to remain seated as we were.
Our black driver too enjoyed the sport immensely, and looking back, he displayed no end of white teeth while he chuckled and rolled about as if ready to fall off his box. In the midst of his contortions, his black tool started out through his pantaloons, which did not seem to be much encumbered with buttons.
'Hello,' cried the captain when he observed it. 'Face about, Pompey, and let the ladies see that bald-headed piccanniny you are nursing there in front.'
Pompey slung himself around and said, 'Good massa, and gentle missy, sense dis nigga de flash am too strong for dee spirit in dis chile,' and with a wide grin he projected the shining head of his enormous prick right into the midst of us. Betty caught it in her hand, and as I was nearest, she pushed it against my mouth.
I confess that I have always had a special penchant for a black prick, so I readily took its sleek head round between my lips and ran my fingers up and down over the satin skin that covered its muscular column.
The view of Pompey's prick entering my mouth reanimated all the rest.
The captain's face reddened with delight as Betty worked herself up and down over his lap, making his tool pass rapidly in and out of her slippery sheath and crying out at each downward thump: 'Fuck, fuck, fuck.'
I screwed my bottom between Johnny's thighs and just as I felt his swelling prick inundate the regions below, a gush of glutinous sperm darted into my mouth from the end of Pompey's noble tool. I swallowed every drop while I squeezed his balls with my hand, and compressed my lips round its indented neck as, with rapid jerks, spurt after spurt flowed down my throat.
I received his emission with more than my usual relish, not only because of the great excitement of the moment, but because I found as I had observed before, that the semen of the negro has a more pungent taste and a more aromatic flavour than that of the white man.
Meanwhile the captain's eyes seemed actually starting out of his head with the intensity of his pleasure as he cried: 'Lift a moment, Miss Betty – let me finish in the rear.'
She raised herself while he quickly transferred his moist tool from her cunt to her bottom-hole.
A flush of delight then came over her face as she pressed down and the soft round head passed into her vitals, while the delicate skin of her other entrance rubbed against the grizzled hair that clustered round the root of his manly tool.
It would occupy too much space to describe all that went on in that conveyance, for the whole drive was one continued scene licentious larking and unrestrained enjoyment.
When we reached the inn, we found that Mat and his wife were in their bedroom with the door fastened, so the captain, after listening a moment outside, cried through the keyhole, 'Go it, Mat! How are you getting on, Laura?'
'Oh, uncle, I am nearly dead, Mat is murdering me with his-'
'Don't mind her, St John. She has her bottom over my face, while she is sucking the very life-blood out of my tool.'
'Well, don't kill yourselves quite, or, if you do, make short of it, for we want our supper.'
We soon gathered round an excellent spread and, while the waiters remained, behaved ourselves with as much propriety as we could, thought a good deal of fingering and peeping passed on the sly.
The landlord, Mr Toots, was a fine-looking mulatto and seemed greatly amused at our party and never spoke to any of us without a broad grin on his face.
I think he must have heard something from the driver, for he watched us all evening and seemed resolved some way or other to join our sport.
His portly wife, took, seemed animated with a similar spirit and ogled the captain or Johnny whenever she brought in a fresh supply of liquor.
We could only obtain three bedrooms and the parlour, which was the only public accommodation afforded by the small inn. So it was arranged that Betty and I should have one room between us, the captain and Johnny the other, while the third was left to the bride and bridegroom.
After a nightcap of grog all around, we retired to our respective apartments.
Betty and I found that our room was between that occupied by the landlord and his wife on the one side and Laura's on the other, and the partitions being thin, we heard many curious noises and mutterings on both sides, but I was so tired and so muddled with drink that I could not remain awake. The last thing I was conscious of was Betty fumbling between my thighs.
I must have been some hours asleep when I felt her hand still playing about my cunt. She had uncovered me, and having drawn me to the side of the bed, had lifted my legs and was busy exploring all between them.
'Oh, Betty, let me sleep. There's a good girl,' and I put down my hand to push away her fingers.
She caught it and held it to one side.
'Why, Betty, what a strong hand you have. What is that you are rubbing between my lips? Is it a dildo, Betty? Where did you get it?
Push it in dear: how well you do it. I could almost fancy it was a prick fucking me.'
Here I heard a chuckle that was not quite of a feminine character and putting my other hand suddenly down I felt the warm prick of a very hairy man prodding my cunt and distending its folds to an extraordinary degree.
'Who are you?' I asked, raising my hand to feel his face. the first thing I touched was a smooth round chin with a big tuft of hair in the middle which I knew was not possessed by either the captain or Johnny.
'Get away,' I cried, 'whoever you are I won't let you.' And I tried to slip from under him, but he only seized me firmly by the hips and fucked away as if his life depended on his ramming his great prick into my cunt to the fullest extent possible. His balls banged against my bottom while the room shook with the concussion of his blows. Then a torrent of hot spunk filled my cunt and effectively stopped all further complaints on my part, I even returned his kiss as he lay panting on my bosom.
After discharging, his prick remained soaking in my cunt without any perceptible diminution while our tongues touched and enfolded one another. He did not long continue quiet, however, for moved by the convulsive throbs of the folds of my cunt he placed his hands under me and grasping the cheeks of my bottom he began to shove again. I spread my thighs and jerked my cunt to meet every thrust while I spurred him on by hammering his backside with my heels.
But alas, for earthly bliss, just as the hot pleasure was speeding on to complete enjoyment, we were both startled by an apparition rising up suddenly behind him in the shape of a tall woman in a white dress and nightcap with her long hair streaming over her shoulders.
'Toots, you vagabond,' she screamed, with her eyes ablaze, 'is it here I find you? Not content with your lawful wife, you grope all the maids and even assault the ladies who come into our house. Get out of here, you lascivious beast,' and setting down the lamp she carried, she threw herself on her husband, and with her arms round his loins tried to pull him off.
But Toots held on like grim death, and seemed resolved that come what may, he would finish the job.
Her outcry, however, brought other actors on the scene; the captain and Johnny followed by Betty each, with a candle in hand, rushed into the room.
'Hallo, Hallo,' cried the captain, 'what's the row? Fight fair boys, two against one won't do,' and dragging off Mrs Toots he tumbled with her on the floor. In the struggle somehow her petticoats were tossed up and the jolly captain found himself between her legs. The result of such a position naturally followed and, to use his own expression, 'before one could say Jack Robinson', his ready prick had plunged into her open cunt.
'Toots, Toots, you cowardly villain, will you stay there and see your wife ravaged before your face?'
Toots turned his head and with a sideways leer, said, 'Serve you right, my love,' and quietly renewed his fucking operation.
Meanwhile Betty, ready to burst her sides laughing, threw herself face downward on my bed and whispered in my ear, 'How did it all happen, dear Queenie? You at least have no cause for dissatisfaction.' And I felt her fingers feeling around the big prick which was plunging in and out through the widely opened lips of my cunt.
Johnny, after surveying the scene for a moment thought he could not do better than follow suit by availing himself of the favourable position of Betty's turned-up bottom, so lifting her shift, he uncovered the two glossy brown cheeks of her dimpled posteriors and poking his prick through a huge tuft of tangled black air, penetrated her wellmoistened recess.
The captain, who was revelling in the enjoyment of a new cunt, even so well-used an affair as that possessed by Mrs Toots, was delighted with the additional incentive afforded by the view of Johnny's unexpected attack on Betty's quivering bum, and renewed his exertions with increased vigour.
Then we all had a few hours' rest and after breakfast we returned to Port Royal, and so ended Laura's wedding trip.