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Book: Steampunk Desires: An Erotic Romance (The Complete Collection) by Sophia Wilde
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Authors: Sophia Wilde
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minutes, completely unaware of the experience they had missed many decks below them.
*****
~Volume Three ~
Eloise loved to fuck. When she’d heard that there was a job that would pay her to do just that, she’d leapt at the offer. The inspection had been a bit uncomfortable, and the ritualistic touching of her breasts between the examiner’s hands had been very uncomfortable, but this was it: the chance for her to finally fuck to her heart’s content. Like that was ever possible, she thought sarcastically to herself.
At twenty-one years of age, Eloise was young, cocky, well developed in body and in endowment, self-confident, and horny. Always horny. Unlike most of the propulsion crew of the HMS Rapturion , Eloise came from an upper-middle-class family and had more than enough opportunities for work or a life of luxury, if she’d been willing to take them. By pulling a few strings, her parents could even probably have swung putting her through Oxford, or perhaps sending her overseas to Harvard or Yale.
But Eloise didn’t care to go. An only child, accustomed to getting what she wanted and completely self-absorbed, Eloise just wanted to screw anything that moved — and that meant anything. Her father had even caught her touching herself in a family chair, completely disrobed. Too shocked to speak, her father had just turned away in a daze and never brought it up. To Eloise, that meant it was okay, but the chair didn’t really excite her, and her treatment of it would have given any potential fling a preview of coming attractions: she utterly ignored it afterwards, not deigning either to write or call on it ever again. One of the servants, the poor thing, had gotten the unpleasant task of cleaning up after her when the results of the encounter were discovered some days later.
Aside from her promiscuous ways, Eloise loved to drink and eat. She maintained her form only through God’s gracing her with a fast metabolism, and surely by her thirtieth birthday, that grace would expire. She was a hedonist, and her self-satisfaction increased with the number of hedonistic endeavors she could manage at once. Her record was single-handedly drinking four bottles of port over eighteen courses of the finest French cuisine her family could afford, followed by a deep tissue massage with more wine and a deep-tissue massage of her sphincter by the masseuse. All of that was before lunchtime.
Thus, when she saw the ad seeking a few good men and women to join the propulsion crew on the HMS Rapturion , the flagship airship of the Air Cruise Co. luxury line, a better fit could not be found, and she spun it as an opportunity to see the world and earn her keep to her parents, who, although reticent, bade her the best of luck as she set out for the interview.
The month since the interview had seemed like it would never end, but here it was: the first day of work. The giant dirigible floated beside the wooden dock, its leather-and-canvas hull gleaming a golden yellow in the morning sun. It was a little past eleven. Eloise’s instructions had been to arrive no later than nine, but she had stayed up most of the night in anticipatory celebration and had missed the piercing bell of her clock, one of the first of Redier’s mass-produced models. The rest of the household had not missed the alarm, and although no one dared wake Eloise, as soon as she was gone, the clock had disappeared to an infrequently used part of the house. Eloise cared not that she was late; the ship was still there, and in her mind, no harm had been done. She casually examined the rich mahogany railing on the gangplank as she boarded the vessel. Not bad, she thought to herself.
She found herself on the top deck of the ten-story vessel. Luxury abounded everywhere, from the electric chandeliers casting their warm glow down the wide hallways to the lavish paintings, and from the statuettes and tapestries to the rich velvet floor, not a cent had
*****
~Volume Three ~
Eloise loved to fuck. When she’d heard that there was a job that would pay her to do just that, she’d leapt at the offer. The inspection had been a bit uncomfortable, and the ritualistic touching of her breasts between the examiner’s hands had been very uncomfortable, but this was it: the chance for her to finally fuck to her heart’s content. Like that was ever possible, she thought sarcastically to herself.
At twenty-one years of age, Eloise was young, cocky, well developed in body and in endowment, self-confident, and horny. Always horny. Unlike most of the propulsion crew of the HMS Rapturion , Eloise came from an upper-middle-class family and had more than enough opportunities for work or a life of luxury, if she’d been willing to take them. By pulling a few strings, her parents could even probably have swung putting her through Oxford, or perhaps sending her overseas to Harvard or Yale.
But Eloise didn’t care to go. An only child, accustomed to getting what she wanted and completely self-absorbed, Eloise just wanted to screw anything that moved — and that meant anything. Her father had even caught her touching herself in a family chair, completely disrobed. Too shocked to speak, her father had just turned away in a daze and never brought it up. To Eloise, that meant it was okay, but the chair didn’t really excite her, and her treatment of it would have given any potential fling a preview of coming attractions: she utterly ignored it afterwards, not deigning either to write or call on it ever again. One of the servants, the poor thing, had gotten the unpleasant task of cleaning up after her when the results of the encounter were discovered some days later.
Aside from her promiscuous ways, Eloise loved to drink and eat. She maintained her form only through God’s gracing her with a fast metabolism, and surely by her thirtieth birthday, that grace would expire. She was a hedonist, and her self-satisfaction increased with the number of hedonistic endeavors she could manage at once. Her record was single-handedly drinking four bottles of port over eighteen courses of the finest French cuisine her family could afford, followed by a deep tissue massage with more wine and a deep-tissue massage of her sphincter by the masseuse. All of that was before lunchtime.
Thus, when she saw the ad seeking a few good men and women to join the propulsion crew on the HMS Rapturion , the flagship airship of the Air Cruise Co. luxury line, a better fit could not be found, and she spun it as an opportunity to see the world and earn her keep to her parents, who, although reticent, bade her the best of luck as she set out for the interview.
The month since the interview had seemed like it would never end, but here it was: the first day of work. The giant dirigible floated beside the wooden dock, its leather-and-canvas hull gleaming a golden yellow in the morning sun. It was a little past eleven. Eloise’s instructions had been to arrive no later than nine, but she had stayed up most of the night in anticipatory celebration and had missed the piercing bell of her clock, one of the first of Redier’s mass-produced models. The rest of the household had not missed the alarm, and although no one dared wake Eloise, as soon as she was gone, the clock had disappeared to an infrequently used part of the house. Eloise cared not that she was late; the ship was still there, and in her mind, no harm had been done. She casually examined the rich mahogany railing on the gangplank as she boarded the vessel. Not bad, she thought to herself.
She found herself on the top deck of the ten-story vessel. Luxury abounded everywhere, from the electric chandeliers casting their warm glow down the wide hallways to the lavish paintings, and from the statuettes and tapestries to the rich velvet floor, not a cent had
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