Set in late 1800s London

I wind up my new gadget and press it against my puffy clit. Ahhhhhhhhhh! As the gears turn, my delightful button is hammered. The whir of the machine adds to the erotic atmosphere. My knickers are bunched around my knees and my left hand grips the edge of the desk while my right holds my new invention steady against my aching clit. Genius. Bloody genius, I think.

I allow myself these pleasures for a few delightful moments before I select the one with the rounded head. Winding it, I allow my clit to revel in its circulating motions. Round and round and round it swirls against my sensitive lady bits. I truly am a bloody genius! 

Polite society tells us women should ignore our clits, but I say, "Bugger!" In less than a minute, my body is soaring as I orgasm. I reach for my handkerchief to catch the drippings from my cunt. 

After I regain my composure, I resume my tinkering with my latest creation when Edgar enters the room.

"Lady Bennett, Lord Oliver Harrison is here to see you."

"Please send him in, Edgar. Thank you."

Edgar sighs his usual disapproving sigh, a crease nestling in between his unkempt eyebrows. "Lady Bennett, might you prefer to entertain his Lordship in the parlour with some tea?"

"No, Edgar. I am working and don't wish to stop. If Lord Harrison wishes to see me, he can do so while I finish my work."

The parlour is a lifeless room filled with fussy furniture and kept in immaculate condition by Edgar. Society dictates upper-class homes have a parlour, but they are not for comfort, instead, they are predominantly for putting on airs to visiting guests. I refuse to take part in such ridiculous notions.

Edgar releases another long sigh. He casts disapproving glances about the room. Gaslight flickers giving glimpses of various metals like copper, brass, and iron, assorted rivets, gears, and cogs, not to mention my large assortment of tools used to create my gadgets scattered about in no orderly fashion.

Edgar has served our household so long, my father considered him family. But, he has never understood an inventor's heart. He finds me utterly hopeless, I know. In his eyes, I should be focused on securing a marriage instead of fiddling with doodads.

"Your Ladyship, might I inquire if you have reached a decision?" he asks with hope in his voice.

"I have not," I reply, refusing to discuss the matter further. "Now, please fetch my guest."

"As your Ladyship wishes," he replies, giving me one last sigh for good measure.

I return my attention to my work, but the question broached me lingers in my mind.

"Here you are, beautiful Lady Bennett, the inventor," he says removing his top hat before bringing my extended hand up to his lips. 

My heart jumps a little as I take in the sight of him. Lord Harrison is the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Tonight he is dressed in dark-gray, pin-striped trousers paired with a black coat. His high-collared, crisp, white shirt showcases an elegant black bow, partially hidden by his black vest. He is a well-known affluent writer and I am sure society is flabbergasted by his interest in me.

"I stopped by hoping you would join me for a walk? The fog has settled over London and I know how you love foggy evenings."

I excitedly rise up on my toes, clasping my hands, "Oh, I do hope it is particularly dense tonight. It is such a mysterious loveliness."

"Only you, my dear, see the beauty in the eerie darkness," he says chuckling. 

"Think of what naughty things are concealed on nights like tonight," I say with my eyes twinkling with my thoughts.

"Speaking of naughty things, what are you working on now, my lovely? Oh, first allow me to wipe a smudge from your face," he says reaching for my used handkerchief on my desk.

Before I can stop his Lordship, his fingers notice the stickiness and he brings it to his nose to inhale. 

"Mmmmmm. Why Lady Bennett-"

"I have to test my inventions, don't I?" I interrupt, with my face and bosom flushing in embarrassment.

"Indeed," he says with a knowing smile, stuffing my handkerchief inside his coat pocket.

"Now, let me show you my latest creations," I offer, walking over to a glass jar, seemingly holding butterflies. 

Reaching in the jar I select my favorite with the shiny brass wings and extend my hand to show him.

"The clockwork is marvelous," he says closely examining the exposed gears and mechanical wings. "What does it do?"

"It pleases my nipples," I proudly exclaim causing him to choke on air. 

"Your nipples?"

"Yes, I wind it up and attached my beautiful butterflies to my nipples and it delightfully squeezes my nipples while its wings flutter, sounding a rhythmic click click click. It is a quite lovely feeling I assure you - makes my toes curl."

I imagine he is painting images in his head as a smile crosses his face. 

"Lord Harrison, while I uphold the rules of chastity before marriage, ladies should be able to indulge in a little fun with their clits and nipples, don't you think? Your Lordships wank your pissers, do you not?"

"Such naughty talk from a lady. I may have to enlist my Lady's assistance with my new writing project. I have decided to venture from romance into erotica."

"Oh, Lord Harrison, brilliant idea! Maybe you shall wish to include my thingamajigs in your writings."

"Wonderful idea, Lady Bennett. Together we shall set London on its ear!" 

"I think 'Butterfly Kisses' might be a suitable name for these lovelies - nothing vulgar, but sweet," he says, gently stroking one of the butterfly's wings. 

"An exquisite name, indeed! I have issues with naming my creations, but that name suits. I shall keep it, Lord Harrison."

"Now, I promised you a walk and we had better take our leave before I do something that will force you to accept my offer of marriage. All this talk of nipples is making me feel tight in the trousers."

"Are you sure you want to walk with me, my Lord? People might jeer at us. Why is an upstanding writer associating with the rebel of the upper-class? Don't you want to walk with someone 'proper' like Lady Watson?"

I adjust my breasts in my visible corset while continuing my teasing, "You know, a lady who won't mention her unmentionables."

His eyes travel down to my bosom and linger before finding my eyes again. "I have no such use for a bore like Lady Watson." And with those words, he moves towards me and reaches his hands around to pull me into his body by my plump rump. 

"Don't think you can change me, my Lord. I won't give up my inventions. I need to keep my hands busy. I am good with my fingers and I do enjoy fiddling with mechanisms."

"I wouldn't dream of changing you, Lady Bennett. Now my mind has ventured into naughty thoughts thinking of where I would enjoy your fiddling fingers, so we really must take our leave before my fingers find their way inside your skirts."

He leads me out into the night. It is as he described, a perfectly foggy night, with muffled light emanating from the street lanterns. 

"Do you hear that, Lord Harrison?"

"Hear what? I hear nothing."

"Exactly. Where is the humming of the airships? The grinding of the steam engine?" I say gesturing overhead and around me.

"They are grounded tonight due to the fog. It is of growing concern to most of us, although I know you love these kinds of nights."

"Will you take me on one?" I ask, looping my arm through his.

"An airship, Lady Bennett?"

"Why yes. And the train."

"Of course, your Ladyship. Of course," he replies pulling me against his chest, raising my chin with his hand. "Do you know why I fancy you?"

"I assumed you enjoyed the way I fill out my corset, Lord Harrison," I reply winking at him.

"Well, there is that. The other ladies prefer to conceal what you feel confident to reveal," he says, tracing around the top of my corset with his fingertip. When he reaches the middle, his finger dips down into my cleft, setting my naked skin on fire. "But it is your sense of exploration and your creative nature too. You are a kindred spirit. I do not wish a lady who just wishes to throw parties and gossip over tea. We would look at life as a wondrous adventure."

Like my inventions, the gears inside my head suddenly click. Turning to this wonderful man, I bravely announce, "Yes."

"Yes? Yes, what?" he inquires, brushing a wisp of hair from my face.

"Yes, I will marry you, Lord Harrison."

He stands motionless for a few moments and then his eyes brighten, showing my words finally registered, and he sweeps me off my feet, swinging me around in circles. 

"I am the luckiest man in the world!" he beams before dipping his head to capture my lips in a delicious kiss.

We continue our walk with my arm folded in his, happily talking about our futures. I share my plans to be the first woman to exhibit inventions at the fair this year. He says he will proudly stand by my side. The gloomy, grey fog is lost to us as we walk by the light of our glorious future. 

However, my mood is darkened as grey silhouettes in our path come to be known as Lord and Lady Morgan and their fancy poo friends. Too late to turn away now, so I hold my breath hoping we can quickly pass before their snobby stench offends my sensibilities.

Their faces are priceless when they recognize me, Lady Bennett, as the woman on his arm. Although their disparaging glances do not surprise me, I know my name is on their tongues at their tea parties. The prudish ladies would each do well with a minute or two of my vibrating gadget to loosen up their tight twats. Maybe even try it in their arses. I giggle at the thought. 

After forced polite greetings are exchanged, Lord Morgan says, "Lord Harrison, we would love for you to come by for tea tomorrow. We would love you to meet our lovely daughter." He doesn't spare me a glance, speaking as if I was a ghost in the fog.

Lord Harrison wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in tighter before answering, "Thank you, but my days will be quite busy from now on planning my wedding to the lovely Lady Bennett."

His wife actually gasps, her mind clearly boggled by this news. Her husband mutters a laboured congratulations before quickly ushering his wife and their friends away.

My future husband pats my hand resting on his arm and whispers, "I love you. You are perfect as you are."

No one except Father has made me feel this accepted and cherished. I believe in remaining chaste till my wedding night, but other things are allowed and I long to be intimate now. Impulsiveness overtakes me and I lead him to a dark crevice between the buildings. Once there I whisper, "Give me your pisser, Lord Harrison."

He doesn't waste a second unfastening his trousers and pulling out his glorious cock. He directs his rigid sword into the palm of my hand. As I encircle his shaft, he dips his head forward to plant soft kisses on my neck. I stroke his stiff muscle, marveling at the new lengths it reaches. 

His groans intensify in my ear as my hand quickens its pace. My mind can't help but travel to the time when we are fucking as husband and wife. Our lips find one another in the darkness. We passionately kiss, fully exploring each other's mouths with our tongues until I return my attention to his glorious cock.

"You are quite adept with your hands, Lady Bennett," he whispers in my ear amidst heavy breathing.

My thumb pauses to lovingly graze the head of his pisser before making its way back down his member. I descend farther to fondle his dangling twiddle-diddles. His Lordship whispers dirty things in my ear - too dirty to be repeated among the prudish. His cock moves on its own now, beckoning my hands back, so, I return to stroking his shaft.  His groans turn to grunts, signaling his release is near.

I move to the side as he paints the brick white. It is not the only mark we will make on this era.