Whispers echoing through time: a victoriana's passionate soliloquy

In the grandeur of a Victorian castle, nestled amongst dusty tomes on a worn desk, sat a woman. Her back was to the room, long ringlet curls cascading down in an extremely long train, tied with a blue ribbon. Her slim body was exposed, adorned with very hairy blonde pussy and sweat-drenched skin. Her eyes were closed, mouth open, tongue extended, and she was emitting intense moans. Her feet were bare, calloused from the castle's stone floors, as she sat on the cold ground.