Jane Austin's going to kill me
May. 23rd, 2005 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Well, I just took a stab at writing a sex scene. Not my forte usually, but I thought what the heck. It's based on my earlier post about Charlotte Lucas.
Cut for naughty bits.
The wedding night was spent at Lucas Lodge.
Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas was to spend her first night as a married woman in the same room she’d lived in her entire life, a room she was sure she would never leave but for the fortuitous appearance of Mr Collins; having long since resigned her self to being the spinster of the parish. It was a small irony that she was sure her friend Elizabeth Bennett would appreciate.
She sat in her tiny dressing room, combing her hair a bit longer than she needed to, putting off the moment when she had to face her husband, who was presumably making his own preparations in the room next door. She told herself it was because she was nervous, as any woman would be. Her mother had taken her aside and given her some timely advice, but it wasn’t particularly helpful. Charlotte’s mother, based on the vague stories she told her eldest daughter, seemed to enjoy her husband’s company, even though the very thought of her parents’ intimacy made her blush. Charlotte knew, however, it would be different for her. There was only one person she knew she really loved, and it was someone she could never have.
She dressed herself in a loose shift, then entered her childhood bedroom, ready to get it over with. Mr Collins , who had been prattling on as he dressed about the home he was taking Charlotte too stopped talking with a stutter when he saw her. “You look beautiful my dear. You will be a credit to me and to Lady…”
“Yes, my dear, but perhaps, just for tonight, we could leave her Ladyship out of the conversation?”
Blushing, he stammered out an apology, and moved towards Charlotte to plant a wet and trembling kiss upon her mouth.
And this was it, this was the moment. Her mother advised her to think of something pleasant, and unbidden, one face sprung to mind. The face of the person she’d longed for almost her entire life, the face of the one person she knew she loved with all her heart.
Elizabeth Bennett.
As she and her husband moved toward the bed, Charlotte found herself imagining, nay, wishing it were Elizabeth’s gentle hands removing her shift, rather than William Collin’s awkward ones. As she helped him remove his own garments, she pretended that it was Elizabeth she was undressing, and soon she fell into a pleasant sort of fantasy. She found the entire process much easier with the image of Elizabeth in her mind, and soon found herself even enjoying the new sensations as she lay with her husband.
It was Elizabeth’s soft, supple skin she was feeling against her own; Elizabeth who was stroking her hair and her breasts and whispering her name. She made a sort of game of it, thinking, ‘that’s Elizabeth’s breath in my ear; that is Elizabeth’s lips on my own’. Stuck for a comparison at one point, she eventually decided instead of her husband’s male piece; it was Elizabeth’s quick tongue, an image that gave her almost unbearable pleasure.
Finally, it was Elizabeth she thought of when her husband cried out and was still, and it was Elizabeth she was speaking of when she responded to her husband’s endearment with an “I love you, too.”
Cut for naughty bits.
The wedding night was spent at Lucas Lodge.
Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas was to spend her first night as a married woman in the same room she’d lived in her entire life, a room she was sure she would never leave but for the fortuitous appearance of Mr Collins; having long since resigned her self to being the spinster of the parish. It was a small irony that she was sure her friend Elizabeth Bennett would appreciate.
She sat in her tiny dressing room, combing her hair a bit longer than she needed to, putting off the moment when she had to face her husband, who was presumably making his own preparations in the room next door. She told herself it was because she was nervous, as any woman would be. Her mother had taken her aside and given her some timely advice, but it wasn’t particularly helpful. Charlotte’s mother, based on the vague stories she told her eldest daughter, seemed to enjoy her husband’s company, even though the very thought of her parents’ intimacy made her blush. Charlotte knew, however, it would be different for her. There was only one person she knew she really loved, and it was someone she could never have.
She dressed herself in a loose shift, then entered her childhood bedroom, ready to get it over with. Mr Collins , who had been prattling on as he dressed about the home he was taking Charlotte too stopped talking with a stutter when he saw her. “You look beautiful my dear. You will be a credit to me and to Lady…”
“Yes, my dear, but perhaps, just for tonight, we could leave her Ladyship out of the conversation?”
Blushing, he stammered out an apology, and moved towards Charlotte to plant a wet and trembling kiss upon her mouth.
And this was it, this was the moment. Her mother advised her to think of something pleasant, and unbidden, one face sprung to mind. The face of the person she’d longed for almost her entire life, the face of the one person she knew she loved with all her heart.
Elizabeth Bennett.
As she and her husband moved toward the bed, Charlotte found herself imagining, nay, wishing it were Elizabeth’s gentle hands removing her shift, rather than William Collin’s awkward ones. As she helped him remove his own garments, she pretended that it was Elizabeth she was undressing, and soon she fell into a pleasant sort of fantasy. She found the entire process much easier with the image of Elizabeth in her mind, and soon found herself even enjoying the new sensations as she lay with her husband.
It was Elizabeth’s soft, supple skin she was feeling against her own; Elizabeth who was stroking her hair and her breasts and whispering her name. She made a sort of game of it, thinking, ‘that’s Elizabeth’s breath in my ear; that is Elizabeth’s lips on my own’. Stuck for a comparison at one point, she eventually decided instead of her husband’s male piece; it was Elizabeth’s quick tongue, an image that gave her almost unbearable pleasure.
Finally, it was Elizabeth she thought of when her husband cried out and was still, and it was Elizabeth she was speaking of when she responded to her husband’s endearment with an “I love you, too.”
no subject
on 2005-05-24 12:46 am (UTC)I was going to leave a message on the other post saying that you should totally write this, but you beat me to it. :D I love it! I especially loved the request to keep Her Ladyship out of it (so in character! LOL) Are you going to do the companion Mr. Collins piece too? <3333
More writing from you is needed. :D Meanwhile, can I borrow your muse for a while?! Mine has run off in search of Colin Firth or something...
no subject
on 2005-05-24 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 03:57 am (UTC)Very good! Excellent!
no subject
on 2005-05-24 03:02 pm (UTC)Women were allowed to have what they called "Romantic Friendships" where they'd write love letters and stuff, but actually HAVING lesbian sex wasn't allowed. So Charlotte's feelings about Elizabeth would be OK, but acting on them wouldn't be. So this is perfect!
no subject
on 2005-10-22 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-10-23 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 06:09 am (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 10:42 am (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 01:08 pm (UTC)Makes me wonder who in classic literature one could slash belivably. Must ponder...
no subject
on 2005-05-24 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-10-22 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-24 01:58 pm (UTC)The writing fits well with the subject matter - it doesn't feel like you're writing from the 21st century, and that's a triumph. The characterizations are well-drawn, and I feel awful for Charlotte, and the sex scene *is* well-handled. You're a really good creative writer, you know that? Brava!
no subject
on 2005-10-22 10:01 pm (UTC)