Then, more full of passion than ever woman lover had ever been, and enraptured as you listened to my voice, so completely beneath your sway, listening only to your own love, you would raise your little coquettish petticoat, and pressing dear little loves of calves more closely together, for you could be on your knees, resting upon my little blue veins, you would frig me in this manner, with greater vigour than ever sitting down every now and then upon your fine little heels, in order the better to release my beautiful prick, perfectly straight and rudely swollen and inflamed with passionate desires, from between your divine thighs, as soft as satin, and as white as snow, to better introduce the wet tips of your lovely and velvet like bosoms into the seductive little hole of my member, whilst my knees raised slightly behind would gently caress your bottom, so as to give you some little satisfaction in your turn; and at last, unable any longer to retard the moment of emission, you would bend forward, resting upon both your hands, to increase my desire, and keeping yourself back a little distance from me, while your petticoats would now cover my head, and act almost like an electrical conductor upon me, you would intoxicate me with the perfume exhaled from your legs, from your member, from your cunt, from your bottom, and lastly, you would slack my thirst and complete the celestial transport by pissing, with eager rapture, between my burning lips
— from The Romance of Lust: A classic Victorian erotic novel by Anonymous