Gentle Reader: There is nothing I have discovered in my long existence; that equals the thrill of waking entwined with a cherished lover. From the remove of the Great War’s aftermath, the seismic destruction of aristocratic privilege, had been underway for decades, that morning of my third day, when slender tendrils of light coaxed Louisa and I from Morpheus’ embrace. Later generations scoffed at sentimental trysts; denigrated the great poets, and mocked the sonnets proclaiming undying devotion to the battlefields of love. Though in truth, contrary to the sisters Brontë, real sex involved fluidic leakage in copious amounts. We stank.
You can go to this page which has links to all the complete previous chapters.
Spank Me Hard! ... Please? 
Why is there not a “love” button on WordPress?! I don’t know how you do it in so few words. You had me going again, ecstatically immersed in the romance of the scene. THEN you involved the Brontes, for whom I have a huge literary fetish as you know, so my groin was utterly won over. AND THEN you produced that ending, leaving my decades of reading literary and studying fiction drowning in their own juices (or mine!). This is one of my favourite sections of Bumhampton so far, just for the sheer indulgent, parodic wordsmithery of it!
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Thank you as always for your stalwart support. It continues to astound me when Ruby decides to wax poetically linking eras and attitudes so effortlessly. She deserves all the credit. 🙂
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Then Ruby is a diamond! 😊
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As the Victorians said, “A diamond of the first water.” She is a lowly maid though. 😉
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Damn, that’s good.
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Thanks, Elliot. 🙂
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