Alice Pleasance Liddell Babebuilt is my present name. You know me by "Babe" which is short for "Babebuilt" my surname.
My name sake is Alice Pleasance Liddell the 1850's girl for whom Charles Dodgson (Lewis Caroll) wrote the beloved book commonly known as the "Adventures of Alice In Wonderland".
One of my favorite passages in the book comes towards the end:
"She sat with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality...."
Like Alice, I often close my eyes and transport myself to whatever "Wonderland" that restores joy to my heart and makes my body tingle in sweet anticipation.
Today I will have a reunion with Prince Leopold IV ("Hatter" ) who is presently a student at Oxford.
He will arrive shortly to visit me near Great Grandfather Henry Liddell's legendary Deanery.
Hatter ia one of my dearest childhood friends and incidentally Queen Victoria's great-great-great grandson. I am thrilled at the thought of of his pending arrival but apprehensive too.
Would the magic we felt as kids reading the tales of Alice In Wonderland come back in a way that dignifies the sweet dreams we once shared or hastily be swept under the carpet like yesterday's cookie crumbs for which we apologize and then throw away.
Even though I am of good reputation, being a "commoner" there is no reasonable hope of my having a long term relationship (such as marriage) with Prince Leopold IV. Not that I want one anyway. I am an independent woman with no desire to marry and settle down into a dull mundane existence saddled with martial duties.
Strangely enough, because he IS unavailable I find my speculative thoughts, free from worrying about English propriety and far more tantalizing than they normally would be under similar circumstances.
I find the more I reminisce about Hatter, the more intense my desire to is to be with an old friend who will seem brand new. I think to myself, it's sorta of like having my father's old comfy chair reupholstered (something old - something new - something comfortable).
The memory of Hatter being as mad as Lewis Carroll's "Mad Hatter" had me picturing him all grown up looking a lot like Mick Jaager only more handsome and with a better smile and good teeth.
And that is indeed what I see pull up. A poster perfect "Hunter Green Antique 1926 Bentley Roadster". It looked good sitting there in my cobblestone circle drive and for a moment I wanted one just like it.
Dressed in tails, black top hat in hand and a bit tipsy, he gingerly steps out with the assistance of his male companion. I can't take my eyes off him and feel my heart skip a beat as I observe him smoothing the front of his slate grey pinstriped trousers.
I chuckle to myself and wonder if he's stayed too long at his last "tea party" or if he is simply being the same delightfully droll fellow I knew from long ago.
Looking down I see Hatter looking impatiently at his watch and hear him say:
"No wonder were're late, why this watch is exactly two days slow.
His companion looks like a modern day caricature of Humpty Dumpty and all the world like he fell off a wall and can't put himself back together again. He tells Prince Leopold:
"We've had enough of that subject, and it would be just as well if you mention what you mean to do next, as I suppose you don't mean to stay here for the rest of your life."
Waving his hand theatrically the Hatter reassures:
"No NOT for the rest of my life Mr. Dumpty, only for part of it, perhaps at dinner tonight provided Sweet Alice allows me to stay...."
Neither he or Mr. Dumpty have yet spotted me standing on the balcony directly above them.
I think to myself, alas "Mad Hatter" I hope to have you sequestered in my tower tonight where we can discuss what we didn't do so long ago. I feel my face flush and hurry downstairs. On my way to the foyer, I stop at the kitchen and tell the staff that Prince Leopold Has arrived. I order the finest wines brought up from the cellar and make certain that Chef Hooka "Caterpillar" remembers to garnish our steaks with his magical mushrooms.
I tell myself Hooka's mushrooms will ensure a good trip to "Wonderland" and the prince will not recall tomorrow whether I fucked him tonight or not.
OMG what am I saying. My face is burning and my pussy is jumping around in my panties like it is alive and wants out to play. My legs feel weak but I finally manage to compose myself, run down stairs and greet my long lost prince at the door with a great big bear hug.
Dinner goes well and while we sit on the old porch swing the wine and mushrooms gradually loosen our tongues and we drift into reminiscing about our childhood days when we were too shy to venture beyond a kiss on the cheek the last night before he left for boarding school.
"Hatter, do you recall the part Where Alice says to the "White Rabbit"
'Shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way - never to be an old woman - but then - always have lessons to learn.' "
Hatter sighs,
"Yes, Precious Alice. But be of good cheer YOU will never grow old. Living in my heart you will always be fresh and young. There you will be free from the ravages of time - safe with me where all is good and beautiful. Our childhood memories will live on to serve and nourish us through our darkest days. Let me hold you now dear friend."
Embracing we get up and let the swing sway freely.
Watching it as if in a trance we face each other and kiss as if it were the first and last kiss we'd ever share.
Then without a word we seemed to know where we want to be: In the attic below the "widows walk" above the third floor where we played as children.
We walk up the long circular staircase to the second floor and then climb another flight up the servants back stairway that leads up to a delightful 25' x 25' sun lit cupola where we use to spend many wonderful lazy day hours playing make-believe.
Everything in the room was as we left it, even the old phonograph with a 45 record of the Jefferson Airplanes "White Rabbit" that Mom had reluctantly loaned us (providing we'd take good care of it).
I plug in the record player and Hatter retrieves some old joints he stole from his brother and hid in the rafters in case someday we'd get brave enough to smoke them.
We plop down on an old duvet that covers a full size feather tick. Hatter lights up a joint for us to share and I put my head on his lap.
Soon we're in a trance listening over and over again to "White Rabbit" with nostalgic longings sweeping over us for all that we missed in child-hood and all we still don't know about life and each other.
The music continues to escalates our growing passion and we kiss and kiss leaving little skin that is exposed untouched by our hungry lips.
The record playing "White Rabbit" repeats over and over again and lulls us into an altered state of consciousness:
"One pill makes you larger And one pill makes you small, And the ones that mother gives you Don't do anything at all. Go ask Alice When she's ten feet tall.
And if you go chasing rabbits And you know you're going to fall, Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar Has given you the call. Call Alice When she was just small.
When the men on the chessboard Get up and tell you where to go And you've just had some kind of mushroom And your mind is moving low. Go ask Alice I think she'll know.
When logic and proportion Have fallen sloppy dead, And the White Knight is talking backwards And the Red Queen's "off with her head!" Remember what the dormouse said: "Feed your head. Feed your head. Feed your head." *********** Hatter kept pushing my head further down until my lips are pressed firmly against his wrapped package. He sings softly "feed your head" as he gently pushes it deeper into the crevice between his legs. He says it over and over again "feed your head," and I hear the dormouse in the corner harmonize with Hatter as if ordering me, "Do it, do it, do it!"
Seeing the little dormouse; the lure of the music, mushrooms, and pot all convince me to spring Hatter's hard erect cock from his tuxedo's pants and slowly caress his manhood with my wet lips before placing him all in my mouth.
He groans loudly and runs his hand up under my skirt to feel my silky smooth puffy pussy and I go crazy. I try to put him inside me but I am too late, he hollers out at the top of his voice:
"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming! God save the Queen! OMG Alice! Take me to Wonderland!"
And that's where we went.
Exhausted we soon fall asleep in the blissful comfort of each others arms.
When we wake 2 hours later, Mom's old "White Rabbit" is still playing. We laugh over how naughty we are, cuddle for a bit and then go downstairs to the kitchen where we fill the old wicker picnic basket with fruit, cheese, a loaf of bread, a bottle of Pinot Noir, napkins, and a cork screw.
We head back to the attic and light up another joint drifting back into sweet oblivion with a renewed interest in food and sex.
Dancing towards the back of the attic we soon find the checker board, the pools of tears, and the red and white roses we had painted on the floor boards long ago when as children when we tried to recreate scenes from "The Adventures of Alice In Wonderland." The high top table is draped in white linen and is still set with our assortment of mismatched tea pots, cups and saucers.
Nearby a oversized white wicker framed mirror hangs on the wall with a hole leading through it to an outside bridge of ornate copper gutters and multi-colored slate tiles. A big long haired white rabbit with pink eyes sits on the roof staring in a lone round window before twitching her ears and escaping down another big hole that appears to go no where.
All around the tea table are stools and chairs of varying heights. Pretending to be a mad man, Hatter lowers me down on to each of them and fills me up to the top of his shaft with each upward motion of his big thick cock until we fuck through every seat and finally collapse on to the giant black and white chessboard.
We then take turns loving each other square by square using chess pieces as toys just for the fun of it until we can stand it no longer and erupt into a fourth of July finale defiling Queen Victoria's big floral tea pot on the final shot.
We sleep until noon and enjoy a delicious hot brunch of coffee, french toast, and fresh fruit compote prepared by Chef Hookah Caterpillar who uncharacteristically smiles whenever he catches Hatter and me kissing and carrying on between courses.
All too soon I see Mr. Dumpty patiently waiting out front to drive my darling to the train station.
Hatter and I embrace and tenderly kiss each other goodbye promising to love on each other again as soon as Mother and Father leave for Paris next holiday.
White Rabbit/Jefferson Airplanes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKLF3-Qvk84
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Babe
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