A Victorian Sex Cries Generator, filched from Mr Neil Gaiman’s journal.
You darling, darling! You wield that cane as if to the manor born!
Ah, let your fingers play and twine in the young tendrils of silky down that cover’d the very seat of my womanhood!
Your lips pursue me, so that I cannot escape from kissing them in purest self-defense!
Oh delicious deliriums! I lay pleasure-drench’d and spent.
My very being is dissolving into waves of pleasure and liquid pearls!
My life! My soul! The springs of pleasure are wound to such a pitch that I cannot help but succumb to ecstacy!
You have gorg’d me with the dearest morsel of the earth!
Harder and again, my darling, I feel my oceans coming upon me!
This reminded me that it’s been a long time since I read The Pearl. Or My Secret Life. Heh heh heh.