The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.I

CHAPTER THREE. A Night To Remember

All good things come to an end, as my dear mama was wont to say, and to the chagrin of Frank and myself we only managed one further hectic bout of fucking with Cecily and Diana before the girls were whisked away unexpectedly only three days later by Cecily's parents, Sir Jack and Lady Cardew, to spend the rest of the summer at the sumptuous villa of Lord Zwaig, in the heart of the Dordogne region of southern France. We cursed our luck as we were looking forward to a summer holiday like no other, spending our days exploring the multifarious joys of love-making. However, this was still to be a vintage vacation for my sturdy young cock, for the very same morning that we heard the gloomy news about the impending loss of Cecily and Diana, the weather changed as it so often does in this country and the rain fairly howled down, leaving us no alternative but to spend the entire day indoors. Frank leafed through a copy of Country Life whilst I idly explored the books in a cabinet usually kept locked but which, on this afternoon, was unaccountably open. I picked out a thick volume covered for some reason not with a cloth or leather binding but by a plain wrapping of brown paper. My curiosity was aroused and when I opened the book to my great surprise I discovered that I had chanced upon my father's bound copy of The Oyster, an anthology of stories from the most salacious of illicit magazines. I had never actually seen the publication myself but Hammond, the captain of cricket at St Lionel's, once obtained a copy from a sporting acquaintance of his father. Alas, it never reached beyond the exalted studies of the sixth form landing before it was confiscated by our housemaster, Mr. Prout, after Hammond had carelessly left it folded inside his Latin text-book. Even more surprising to me was the fact that the book began with a special introduction 'on the delights of good fucking' penned by a frequent visitor to our house, one of my father's oldest and closest friends, that famed traveller of the Indian sub-continent, Professor Grahame Johnstone of Edinburgh University. 'Frank, you must come and look at what I've found here,' I called out excitedly to my friend. 'I can hardly believe it but my pater has been keeping a copy of something really fruity in this bookcase.' “You don't say,' he said as he ambled over to see for himself. 'Gosh! What kind of book is this? I've never seen anything like this in my life!' he exclaimed as he riffled through the pages and stopped at a fully coloured illustrated photographic plate. We pored over the picture which had, as its background setting, the inside of a cobbler's shop.

In the foreground, in full view of a shocked-looking clerical gentleman peering through the window, an attractive girl was shown on her knees, her breasts bared, pleasuring a happy young fellow whose trousers and drawers were round his ankles and whose veiny cockshaft was being lustily sucked by the comely red-haired miss. The caption under the lascivious photograph was: 'She was only a cobbler's daughter but she gave the boys her awl', a jocular play on words made even more amusing by its very rude complementary illustration.

There were several other such photographic plates, all artistically hand-coloured by Michael Harper We sat engrossed by this truly superb collection of coloured plates which showed girls and boys in the nude, both singly and together, enjoying themselves in a variety of love-making positions. Even more surprising was the fact that we were certain that one of the models was Mr. Newman, the former games master at St Lionel's, who left the school only the year before to take up a similar post at Eton College. If it were another gentleman, I would have been amazed for the likeness to Mr. Newman was to the tee, even down to the small appendectomy scar on his stomach.

Frank's cock had now hardened in his trousers and he pulled out his bursting prick to relieve himself by a quick wank. 'Well, well,' I commented, laying my hand around his hot, throbbing shaft. 'What a size yours swells up to these days. It seems to have grown even bigger since your first fuck with Cecily the other day.' 'I do believe you're right, Rupert. I think it's probably about another half inch longer and probably a bit thicker too.' We then jumped out of our skins as a merry female voice suddenly broke into this lewd conversation. 'So it's Cecily Cardew who you've been having fun and games with, along with Diana Wigmore! I wondered if you'd found a partner for your friend, Master Rupert, or whether Miss Diana would be asked to share her favours!' We looked up to see who was so knowledgeable about our secret-thank goodness it was only Sally, the prettiest of our parlourmaids, whose shapely curves had been in my thoughts during many a tossing-off since she joined our household the previous November. Sally was a real smasher and I had thought that a great many of our male visitors thought so too-from the vicar, Reverend Lavery, and old Doctor Attenborough, our local medical practitioner, to my Uncle Algernon (Lord Trippett) who always seemed to find some trifling excuse or other which would involve Sally taking something up or bringing something down from his bedroom and always, come to think of it, when my Uncle was in there by himself! One could hardly blame Uncle Algy, for Sally was more than a cut above the ordinary. Her fair-skinned features were well set off by a hint of pretty freckling around her nose. Her light blue eyes sparkled gaily and her tresses of blonde hair were pinned up underneath her black maid's cap. She was perhaps taller than the average and her firm curvaceous figure promised delights galore, especially as she always wore her white blouse with the top buttons open, giving a delicious view of the swell of her proud white breasts. I was aghast though that Sally appeared to know far more than she should about what Frank and I had been up to over the previous few days. But what could I say?

Frank too was similarly tongue-tied, and I must say that he did look rather funny, standing there with his hand round his prick which still stood high and mighty despite the interruption. It was left to Sally to break the ice. Walking towards us and casting an admiring eye on Frank's tremendous tadger, she said: 'So, Master Frank, you think that your cock has grown since you fucked Miss Cecily? Well, you do have a big one for your age, that's for sure -now how would you like me to finish you off?' Frank found his voice at last. I should say so!' he exclaimed as Sally ran her fingers along his visibly palpitating prick. 'Fair shares for all!' I cried, unbuttoning my flies and bringing out my own substantial shaft for her inspection. 'M'm, that's a nice-looking tool as well, Master Rupert, even though it's not quite the size of your friend's. But then, size isn't so important. It's how you put to use what the Lord has blessed you with, as the vicar is always telling me. After all, your father's pal Algy Moncrieffe hasn't got a very big cock at all, but he's probably the best fuck I've ever entertained between my legs, and that's the honest truth.' With these wise words Sally grasped our two throbbing tools. Poor Frank was already so excited that he spent almost immediately. Sally was only nineteen but this did not prevent her saying regretfully: 'Ah, what a pity, but you young boys can't last out like older men.' However, I did manage to hold on a little longer than Frank before my prick also jetted out a prodigious stream of spunk all over one of Mama's favourite Chinese rugs. 'Damn, how on earth are we going to clean up the carpet?' I wailed but Sally was not flustered by the problem.

'Don't worry, boys, I'll fetch a bottle of Dr Stanton Harcourt's cough medicine and rub in a few drops. Mr. Goldhill showed me how to take out sperm and cunney juice stains out of my sheets after he fucked me the day after I joined the staff. You know all butlers have their way with the girls, given half a chance, and I didn't mind obliging-especially as I can always wangle an extra day off here and there from him if I promise that I'll suck his prick some time afterwards!' So our starched old retainer was another in our household not above enjoying a good fuck, I mused as Sally continued: 'Yes, the mixture's quite marvellous at removing all traces of love-making. It's quite a good weed-killer too, which is worth remembering! Now, take off your trousers so you'll be ready for when I return.' We not only took off our trousers but also our shoes, socks, shirts and vests so we were both stark naked when Sally returned with the bottle of Dr Stanton Harcourt's magic liquid. 'Oooh, how nice,' she said as she carefully locked the door behind her. 'I'll be with you both just as soon as I've attended to this carpet.'

When she had completed her chore she unbuttoned her blouse completely and shrugged off the garment. She was wearing nothing underneath and we gasped at the sight of the curvy rondeurs of her uncovered breasts. How firm and proudly they jutted out and how stalky were her rose-red nipples that she tweaked up against her palms as she lifted the nude beauties as if offering them up to us for closer inspection. What lovely nipples they were, well separated, each looking a little away from each other and tapering in well-proportioned curves until they came to two crimson points set in the pink circles of Sally's aureoles. These taut titties acted as magnets to my hands as I fondled these succulent spheres, rubbing her rubbery red nipples until they were as hard as my stiff cock which was pressing up against her flat tummy. 'Quick, I want you to fuck me before you spend,' she said urgently. She stripped off the rest of her clothes and turned round, bending over so that her glorious bum cheeks were only inches away from my straining knob. She stood with her legs apart and my hands trembled as I parted the chubby soft cheeks, as white as alabaster. I paused for a moment to savour the sight of her pouting cunney lips as they stretched open to reveal the flushed inner flesh of her cunt. I leaned over her and Sally whimpered as she felt the smooth crown of my cock wedge itself between her buttocks.

Before fucking from behind with Cecily and Diana I would have certainly been too shy to attempt a fuck in this fashion but experieritia docet and she turned her head round to look at me with her limpid blue eyes and murmured: 'Go on, Rupert, fuck me in whatever way takes your fancy!' What a wonderfully open invitation but, as aforementioned, I did not attempt to cork her winking little bum-hole.

I propelled my prick, which was now as hard as rock, as far forward as I could manage and Sally wiggled to enable my shaft to enter the supple, glistening crack of her cunt. Fiercely, I pushed onwards, burying my cock to the very hilt so that my balls banged against her backside as I pulled back a little before plunging in deep inside her welcoming cunney. I began to fuck the delicious girl with a quickening pace, my ballsack now slapping against her arse as she cried out with delight, her whole body rocking in rhythm with my cock as it slithered in and out of her juicy pussey which squeezed open and shut like a slippery fist as we thrilled each other with our bodies. I held her round the waist with one hand and leaned round to rub the nipple of one of her magnificent breasts with the other, which excited her greatly. I felt Sally explode into a series of peaks of pleasure as I continued relentlessly to pump in and out of her pussey. Her cunt was incredibly tight and wet and her love-channel clung to my cock as I rode her to the very limit. Again and again I drove home until I felt the familiar surge building up in my balls. At the same time Sally screamed and shuddered to a superb climax as I gushed a torrent of hot spunk into her crack. What a blissful fuck this was and I withdrew my still semi-stiff shaft, which was gleaming with its coating of Sally's pussey juice, and the cheeky girl turned round and chuckled: Ten out of ten. Master Rupert, I told you that the size of a prick is relatively unimportant.' I stroked my penis proudly and Sally took hold of it with both hands and rubbed it between her palms until it regained its full length and strength and rose as hard as iron against my belly. 'Can you carry on for another fuck?' she asked anxiously. When I nodded my assent she gave my sturdy staff a frisk final frigging before laying herself down on a nearby couch. She then told me to come over and lie on top of her and to straddle her body with my legs. I did as I was told and Sally took hold of my pulsating cock, pulling me forwards and I assumed that she was going to suck my throbbing tool. But no, she placed the sticky shaft in the cleft between her breasts and squeezed them around my pole. 'Go on, Master Rupert, fuck my big titties!' she whispered and I began a further lesson in the delights of l'art de faire l'amour. I was not over-sure as how best to continue but instead let nature take its course. I rocked my hips to pump my rigid rod up and down the snug cleft of Sally's breasts. It was extraordinarily sensuous, especially when she leaned her face forward and took the crown of my cock and began licking and lapping it as it moved to and fro between her breasts.

'I'm coming! I'm coming!' she wailed, one hand now dipping between her legs to finger her pussey and the other teasing my balls and arse. 'Oh yes, yes, yes, you're making me come by fucking my titties!' She threw back her head as she continued moaning and her white teeth gleamed as her lips parted and her eyes closed in ecstasy as she spent profusely. Her blood was still up, though, and the last thing she wanted to do now was to stop this grand sport. But would my now tiring cock be able to continue with this now frenzied fucking? As I now know, there is no strong performance without a touch of fanaticism in the performer. I held on as I found new strength to slide my pole backwards and forwards. She clamped her lips around my knob and sucked hard, sending little electric currents along the shaft. Then she released my knob from her mouth and pushed my shoulders upwards and told me to be still. Who was I to disobey such a sweetly spoken command? So I lay back and let Sally clamber over me. First she made herself comfortable, sitting astride me and trailing those magnificent breasts up and down my torso as she leaned forward so that her tawny nipples flicked exquisitely across my skin.

Then she lifted her hips and crouched over my truncheon which stood high in the air with her cunney directly above my knob. She took hold of my staff and encouragingly rubbed the pulsating pole before cleverly positioning my uncapped helmet so that it pressed directly against her clitty. Rotating her body, she edged forward slightly to allow my rigid rod to enter her. Ever so slowly she lifted and lowered her sopping pussey and each time she sank downwards my cock went deeper and higher inside her until our bodies simply melted away in sheer delight as she lay sated upon me, my prick so fully ensheathed inside her cunt that our pubic hairs were enmeshed together. I heard Frank draw in his breath sharply and turned my head to see my friend sitting on the edge of his chair, his big prick visibly swelling as he frigged it up to its fullest stiffness. 'Go on Rupert, fuck her juicy cunt,' he muttered. 'And when you've finished perhaps I can have a go!' Our senses were now at fever pitch. My upward strokes excited her into taking up a fresh, fierce little fucking rhythm as she thrust down to meet my movements to cram every inch of hard cock inside her cunney. Now we both felt the first unmistakable tremors of an approaching spend. Shudder after shudder ran through Sally's quivering body as she half sat back again so that I could best cup her plump breasts in my hands. She gave a choking cry and began to ride up and down on me with a renewed vigour, forcing herself down even harder on my cock. It even crossed my mind that her cries might attract attention from outside the library! Then I felt that magical first stirrings as my spunk began to force its way up my distended shaft. Sally sensed this and immediately she ceased all movement, her cunt now halfway down my cock as she reached down to kiss me. Twice more she arrested our spends until she was fully ready for her own orgasm. She moved up and down with shorter, faster thrusts and I responded with similar upward jerks. Her mouth was open and she was gaping and moaning as we reached the very brink of ecstasy.

Suddenly her cunney muscles tightened about me in a long, rippling seizure that ran from the base to the very root of my cock. Three times more this clutching spasm travelled the entire length of my shaft and then just as Sally screamed out: 'Yes, Yes, Yes! I've come, I've come! Now shoot your spunk, young Rupert!' in a near-delirium, grinding her pussey against me as the frothy jism forced its way out of my knob, hot and seething into every nook and cranny of her cunt.

As we slowly subsided, panting and near collapse, we lay entwined in an intimate jumble of bare flesh. Though I could hear a series of rapid knocks on the door (thank goodness Sally had locked it!), a warm wave of fatigue washed over me and I just could not bring myself to even answer the insistent unknown caller. Fortunately Frank was still compos mentis and I could not help smiling as he heaved himself out of his chair and padded naked across to the door, stiff frigging his stiff cock which was raised as high as a flagpole against his tummy. 'Who's there?' he asked. 'It's Goldhill, sir,' came the voice of our old butler. 'I'm sorry to disturb you but I have a message to give to Master Rupert from his father.' Even at the early age of fifteen and a half, Frank was one of the most quick-witted chaps I have ever known. With only a brief pause, itself covered by a clearing of his throat, he replied: 'Ah, well, Goldhill, I'm afraid Rupert's just fallen asleep and I don't really want to disturb him which is why I locked the door. You see, he was complaining about having a slight headache and hopefully he'll sleep it off.'

'I distinctly thought I heard noises corning from the library.'

'So you did,' said Frank. 'Rupert was talking in his sleep and I think he must have been having a nightmare! Is the matter of great urgency or can you come back in ten minutes?' So thanks to Frank's fast-thinking we had time to dress ourselves and for Sally to sneak out of the library, undetected by Goldhill or any of the other servants. When Goldhill made his second appearance ten minutes later as requested, I made a great show of yawning and stretching out my arms. 'Frank has told me that you have a message from Papa,' I said.

'I hope that it wasn't too urgent as I had a beastly pri- I mean, headache and needed forty winks. But I'm all right now, thank goodness,' I added though I noticed that this had not prevented the butler from shooting me a suspicious look. 'Yes, Master Frank told me about it. I am glad you have recovered so quickly. The Colonel and Mrs. Mountjoy are attending the annual general meeting of the Yorkshire Society For The Promotion Of Science in Harrogate and they have asked me to tell you that they are expecting a visitor to arrive here early this afternoon. On their behalf, they ask you to extend every hospitality to this gentleman as your parents do not expect to return until about half past three as they are taking luncheon today with Lord and Lady Beasant in Bilton. Our new guest, who will be staying here for a few days, is a Mr. Frederick Nolan, an American gentleman from California. You may be interested to know, Master Rupert, that Mr. Nolan will be bringing with him one of these new-fangled cinematographs. If you know what I mean, sir, these are the machines that take moving pictures.' 'Moving pictures,' echoed Frank. 'Well, what a coincidence! I was reading about them in the Manchester Guardian only this morning. Is this Mr. Nolan going to give us an exhibition of his work?' 'Yes, sir,' intoned Goldhill.

'Indeed it was Mr. Nolan who wrote the article you read in the newspaper. He is in Yorkshire to make a film on the Dales which he intends to show to audiences in America.' 'Wow, perhaps we can be in it?' said Frank excitedly. 'Wouldn't that be great?' 'I doubt it as the sight of your face would crack the camera lens!' I replied with a laugh. 'Ha, ha, ha-well, you can laugh but I'm jolly well going to ask him if I can help in any way,' responded my chum.

'Goldhill, is there anything we must prepare for Mr. Nolan's arrival?'

'No, sir,' said the butler. I will be sure to let you both know when Mr. Nolan arrives.' Goldhill did not have to carry out this task, for we were so keen to meet Mr. Nolan that we bolted through luncheon and when the doorbell rang just after two o'clock Frank and I raced to the front door to welcome our American guest in style. I opened the door to a handsome gentleman in the prime of life, perhaps a mite shorter in height than the average, dressed in a snappy summer suit and carrying a silver topped walking stick. 'Good afternoon, sir.

You must be Mr. Nolan, the cinematographer. Welcome to Albion Towers.'

That's right, young man, Fred Nolan at your service, all the way from the USA. And who may you be?' 'I'm Rupert Mountjoy, sir, the Colonel's son. And this is my friend, Frank Folkestone.' 'Glad to meet you, Frank,' said the genial stranger, beckoning to his driver to unload the cart which contained his luggage and two large chests which no doubt contained all his cinematographic equipment. 'I'll have someone bring in all your cases, sir,' I said. 'Well, thank you, my boy, but I'll supervise the operation, if you don't mind. My cameras must be handled very carefully.' After we had helped Mr.

Nolan to settle in, he gratefully accepted the offer of some refreshment. Goldhill brought in a large whisky and soda and Mrs.

Randall provided a platter of cold roast beef sandwiches and a pot of hot black coffee. I apologised for my parents' absence but Mr. Nolan waved aside my words: 'No need to apologise, you've done me proud, young man, though I look forward to meeting your parents. Now before they come I'd very much like to take a walk around your estate whilst the rain holds off.' 'Are you planning the scenario for a film?'

I asked. 'Yup, that's the idea. My boy, motion pictures are in their infancy and the three-minute film will, I predict, soon be overtaken by full-length plays which will be shown in special movie theatres,' he replied. We must have looked dubious for Mr. Nolan continued: 'I see you doubt me. Well, boys, I'll go further, I will go so far as to predict that motion pictures will in your lifetime be seen in colour and you'll be able to hear the spoken word coming out from the screen! Ah, I see you smile-well, we shall see, we shall see.

Just remember that people laughed at Mr. Edison's idea for a phonograph. 'But that probably won't happen until the dawn of the new century. Right now, how would you like to come out with me to look for a suitable location for my film?' 'I should say,' said Frank with alacrity, 'especially if we could later watch you make your film.' 'Of course, of course,' said Mr. Nolan cordially. 'If you like, you may even appear in it!' The promise of such a treat was more than enough to get us out of doors and we tramped round our garden until Mr. Nolan stopped and said: This looks like the perfect spot. I want to take* a shot of the house before pointing the camera at a tea-party taking place on the lawn. If the weather is good enough and your parents are amenable, we will made a start directly after breakfast.' My parents arrived home soon afterwards and, like Frank and myself, they thoroughly enjoyed the company of the gregarious American who regaled us with a flood of anecdotes about his fascinating life. Mr. and Mrs. Harbottle and their daughter Katie had also been invited to dine with us and I could see that Katie, a slim, attractive girl of twenty-one, who was sitting next to Mr. Nolan, was especially taken with his recounting of his adventures. It seemed that Mr. Nolan's late father was one of the railway magnates back in America and being the sole heir to a very considerable fortune had enabled his son to travel the world at his leisure. 'You must find it very dull here after New York, Rome, Paris and London, Mr.

Nolan,' sighed my Mama who unlike Papa, enjoyed the bustle of town life, having been brought up in London. He shook his head. 'Dull?

Not a bit of it, ma'am, it's a real pleasure to be able to enjoy the peace and quiet of the country. Why, in New York, or in any great city, I don't think it is possible to secure even six hours of undisturbed sleep. I certainly never achieved this last week in London. I can't blame anyone for the choir of cats that decided to hold a concert on the roof of my hotel but I could have cheerfully strangled the two cabbies who careered down Marylebone High Street shouting imprecations to each other that I cannot repeat here!'

As he paused to take a glass of champagne from Goldhill, I bent under the table to retrieve my napkin which had fallen to the floor.

And what a shock I had as I looked across to see that Katie Harbottle, who was sitting opposite Mr. Nolan, and who was a most pleasant but quiet and shy girl in company, had taken off her right shoe and was running her stockinged toes up and down Mr. Nolan's left leg! Yet the American continued this little tale as if nothing untoward was happening even though Katie's foot, hidden from general view, was now caressing his inner thigh and was rising higher towards his groin with every stroke! I could hardly remain under the table but, as I straightened up, Mr. Nolan continued as if nothing untoward was happening: “Then one has to cope with the rumbling thunder made by the dustmen's carts, to say nothing of the infernal row made by drunken revellers pouring out of the clubs. Oh, I could think of a hundred other sleep-preventers as well.' 'I can think of a better sleep-preventer than all that-Sally the parlourmaid sucking my cock!' muttered Frank, who was sitting besides me. I dropped my napkin, deliberately this time, and when I bent down to pick it up, I drew a sharp breath to prevent an exclamation of amazement escape from my lips. Katie was still rubbing one foot down Mr. Nolan's leg, but now he had brazenly opened the buttons of his flies, and this was allowing Katie to wriggle the toes of her other foot inside his trousers, stroking them against his naked rampant penis which stood up stiffly out of his under-shorts. With difficulty I suppressed the urge to succumb to hysterics, though I wondered wildly how the two of them would extricate themselves from this compromising situation.

Surprisingly enough, it proved far less awkward than I envisaged for when the time came for the ladies to retire, Katie simply slipped her shoes back on and left the room together with the two older ladies.

Mr. Nolan did not rise fully as the ladies left the table but crouched over his chair, hastily buttoning his trousers as Goldhill came in with a tray of liqueurs. 'Do you belong to any clubs here in England, Mr. Nolan?' asked my father, as Goldhill poured out cognac for us all (Frank and I were allowed a small measure as a special treat) and Mr. Nolan nodded his head. 'Yes, I belong to the Reform and the Travellers and my club in Washington, D.C., the Beesknees, has connections with the Jim Jam in London.' 'The Jim Jam,' said my father thoughtfully. 'I don't think I've ever heard of that establishment.' Mr. Nolan looked quickly at Frank and myself and hurriedly changed the subject: 'I don't get there very often, Colonel.

Tell me now, how do you occupy your time since you left the Indian Army?' 'I'm enjoying the life of an English country gentleman,' replied my father. 'Plenty of hunting, shooting and fishing, you know.' 'Are you keen on country pursuits, Mr. Nolan?' asked George Harbottle, Katie's father and the local squire who was perhaps the best shot in the entire county, a fact that was best kept from Mr.

Nolan whose only pursuit this evening was fucking the squire's daughter! 'As an American I'm always at ease in the great outdoors, sir, and have always been extremely fond of the country,' said Frederick Nolan with a smile. 'Well, it's true that he's extremely fond of cunt!' I said softly to Frank. 'Why, what are you talking about?' my friend whispered back. I quietly explained what I had seen going on underneath the table, which made Frank choke with laughter. 'Let us all in on the joke, boys,' said my father genially. Frank again showed his uncanny ability to manoeuvre his way out of a tight corner by explaining that the cognac had 'gone down the wrong way* and we sat quietly whilst the others finished their liqueurs. 'Shall we join the ladies?' said my father, rising from his seat and as neither guest had taken up my father's previous offer of a cigar, we trooped into the drawing room. Not surprisingly the conversation came round to Mr. Nolan's films and Frank and I exchanged a knowing glance when Katie Harbottle said: 'I'd very much like to see your equipment, Mr. Nolan.' 'Ah, that creates a slight problem,' said the cunning cinematographer, “You see, I have set everything up in my room and it would be rather difficult to bring it all downstairs.' Katie looked disappointed but Mrs. Harbottle said: 'I don't see why you could not go up to Mr. Nolan's room and see his equipment there.' 'I say, Enid-' spluttered her husband, but she imperiously waved away his protest. 'Really, George, by refusing Katie permission to go with Mr. Nolan you are, unwittingly of course, insulting them both! Do you feel that Mr. Nolan or your daughter would behave improperly just because they would be alone for fifteen minutes?' I wondered who was silently cheering Mrs. Harbottle's progressive views-my Mama, who had persuaded Mrs. Harbottle of the justice of the Suffragette cause (much to the squire's disgust!), or Katie and Frederick Nolan who I knew would like nothing better than to find themselves together in a private place and especially a bedroom!

So the young couple made good their escape and at the same time Frank and I were given leave to go and play ping pong on the new table my father had bought me for my birthday last February. On our way to the games room, I suddenly remembered that the other day I had noticed that the bats were missing so I said: 'Come downstairs, Frank and we'll find Goldhill. He'll know where the blinking bats have been put away.' Everyone on duty must have been in the kitchen as there was no member of staff to greet us at the foot of the stairs. However, we heard a girl giggling and then a short murmur coming from a room in front of us. That sounds like Goldhill,' I said so we followed the sounds and pushed open the door of the servants' sitting room. I don't know who was the most embarrassed, Frank and myself or Goldhill and Polly, the scullery maid. For the dark-haired girl was sprawled naked on the large sofa with Goldhill, who was still in uniform (except for his trousers and drawers which were lying over his ankles) slewing his prick in and out of her hairy pussey. At first we stood unseen as the butler's lean bottom cheeks pumped up and down while the couple rocked in time with their amorous exertion. Then Polly let out a little scream as she saw us standing then;, gaping at this lewd scene.

'Don't mind us, old fellow,' Frank called out. 'We'd much rather wait until you've finished before attending to us.' 'Yes, attend to Polly first, Goldhill,' I said, rather enjoying the butler's discomforture though I noted that Polly seemed little put out by the interruption. Tier need is greater than ours.' Polly giggled.

'Come on then, Mr. Goldhill, let's take up where we left off!' And to encourage him she turned over to lie face downwards, reaching across for a soft cushion to insert under her belly so that her hips and chubby rounded bum cheeks were raised high in the air. The butler shuffled between her legs and nudging her knees part, took his sizeable stalk in his hand. 'Are you ready then, Polly?' he asked and after receiving a quick nod of assent, he carefully guided his gleaming weapon into the crack between her bum cheeks, his knob brushing up against her cunney lips before sliding through them into the warm wetness of her welcoming cunt. I must say that Goldhill was no slouch when it came to the mark. As soon as his prick was safely ensheathed in Polly's pussey the butler began to fuck her at a slowish but regular pace and leaned forward so that his chest lay on Polly's back. He reached round to fiddle with her large tawny titties, holding them in thrall as he continued to slew his cock in and out of her sopping slit. Her backside slapped enticingly against his surprisingly muscular thighs as she slipped into the rhythm of fucking that he had established and he increased the pace, now forcefully pounding away as Polly wriggled in delight. As you may imagine, friendly reader, the sight of his thick, veined member see-sawing in and out of her willing cunney made Frank and I extremely horney, especially when the rude girl reached behind to grab hold of his swinging ballsack as it slapped against her bum. Sensing that she was waiting for him, Goldhill increased the speed of his fucking once more and he croaked: 'Here it comes, Polly, brace yourself!' as his torso went rigid and his twitching tool expelled its emission of frothy jism into her seething crack. Polly yelped with glee as the glorious sensations of her own impending orgasm swept like magic throughout her body. The butler collapsed on top of the delighted maid who twisted her bum lasciviously to draw out the last drains of sperm from Goldhill's now exhausted cock. 'Now that was a marvellous fuck, let's do it again,' said Polly brightly but our old retainer looked disconcertedly down at his shrunken shaft and shook his head.

'I'm sorry, but I'm not up to it, my girl. Besides, I've got to do some work for Master Rupert,' he said as he pulled up his trousers.

'Oh dear,' wailed the gorgeous girl. Is there not a single stiff prick in the entire house?' This question was immediately answered by Frank who fairly ripped open the buttons of his fly to bring out his huge naked cockshaft. 'Will this do?' he enquired, bringing his giant tool closer for Polly to inspect, making the purple knob leap and bound in his hand. 'Oooh, that looks good enough to eat,' said Polly, sliding down on her knees from the sofa and weighing Frank's meaty staff in the palm of her hand. 'What an enormous penis for a lad as young as you!' she exclaimed. I was now getting a little miffed at hearing all the girls say this as soon as Frank showed his cock to any female either upstairs or downstairs! 'Would you like me to suck it or would this mean you wouldn't be able to fuck me afterwards?' she asked. 'Do put it in your mouth, I'll come twice without any problems,' he answered eagerly and on hearing such good news she popped his swollen helmet into her mouth. I could see that Polly was a brilliant fellatrice. She worked on his knob with her tongue, easing her lips forward to take in a little of his shaft. She encircled the base of his cock with one hand and with the other, she began to work the pink, velvety skin up and down, her head bobbing as she sucked away with undisguised relish, taking as much of his rigid pole as she could manage between her lips. Her warm breath and moist mouth sent Frank into the seventh heaven of delight and the feel of her wet tongue slithering around his tingling tool soon brought my chum to the brink of a spend. His tadger jerked uncontrollably as she now moved her hands from his cock to grasp the firm, muscular cheeks of his bottom, moving him backwards and forwards until with a final juddering throb he spurted a lavish stream of sperm into her welcoming mouth. She swallowed his emission joyfully, smacking her lips as she gulped down his tangy jism. 'Now, Master Frank, is your young cock still up to the mark as you promised it would be?' gasped Polly as she cast herself back on the sofa, her legs wide apart to expose her pouting pussey and the receptive red slash of cunney flesh which made my already swollen prick strain even more unmercifully against the material of my trousers. I must confess that I wondered whether Frank could fulfil his boast after squirting his spunk so powerfully down Polly's throat but my doubts were quickly assuaged as Frank, his cock waggling, clambered upon the girl's rich curves with hardly a pause. A moan from them both signalled that his knob had slipped between her cunney lips without any preliminaries. He withdrew and then pushed in again slowly and I saw how, parting slowly to his push, the velvet lips appeared to draw him in as their mouths met in the most passionate of kisses. The bold minx jerked her bottom to absorb more of his slippery staff and in a trice, with a cry of bliss, he was fully engulfed inside the sweet prison of her cunt, his hairy ballsack dangling against her plump backside. Frank's slim, smooth body moved in rhythm, faster and faster until the naughty pair were rocking furiously as he now pounded his thick, rock-hard prick into her willing juicy love channel. Polly twisted in veritable throes of ecstasy, panting and grunting with delight as she slipped her hands down Frank's back to grasp his bum cheeks, eagerly lifting her hips to welcome the thrusting shaft that was sliding so deliciously in and out of her sopping cunney. 'Oh yes, what a glorious fuck! What a strong young cock you have! Faster, faster, I want all that lovely jism in your balls, fill me up with it, flood my cunney!' she gasped.

Quite berserk, the lewd couple rolled around on the sofa as Frank's delighted penis slewed joyously in and out of her honeypot.

There I go!' she squealed, and Frank tensed his frame as with a cry he crashed down one final time upon Polly's quivering body, his cock jetting spasms of spunk streaming inside her slit as she squeezed her thighs together and milked every last drop of jism from his spurting stalk. She showed no signs of releasing him until his penis started to deflate and only then did she allow him to pull it out of her drenched cunney. I would have liked nothing better at that moment then to have fucked Polly myself especially as I could see that her eyes were looking directly at the bulge between my legs as my stiffened prick twitched uncomfortably in the confines Of my trousers. But Goldhill cleared his throat and murmured: I suggest that we all leave here as soon as possible, the other servants will be returning at any time.'

We could not ignore his warning so Polly and Frank began to dress and I turned to Goldhill to ask him where the table tennis bats might be found. He told me that they were kept with a bag of ping pong balls in a cupboard on the landing just outside the games room. 'Do you still fancy a game, Frank, or are you now too tired?' I laughed.

'No, no, I'll happily play with you,' he said, buttoning up his fly buttons, 'although I'll tell you now that it won't be as much fun as playing with Polly!' 'No, I bet it won't,' I said sourly. I would have liked to have judged the difference myself.' 'Now, now, Master Rupert, don't be jealous,' smiled Polly, look, I tell you what, I'll come up to your room at eleven o'clock tonight and we'll all have some fun.'

'All have some fun?' I queried.

'Oh, yes,' she said gaily.*Master Frank must be there or I won't come. He has the most amazing prick-' 'Yes, yes, I know, it's so big for a boy his age.' I said heavily, but I wasn't really too put out at yet a further compliment given to Frank's huge penis.

After all, my friend's cock was paving the way for my own prick to find its way between Polly's legs and so far, none of the girls who I had so far fucked-Diana, Cecily nor Sally-had made the slightest disparaging remark about the prowess of my cock and had indeed praised highly its abilities whilst performing l'art de faire l'amour.

This incident first showed me how important it is to know that there will always be a fellow with more notches on his cockshaft than yours; just as there will always be bigger pricks and heavier ballsacks than yours to be seen in the sports club's changing rooms.

But at the same time, there will always be those with tinier tadgers and it must be stressed that there are even some young men blessed with members the size of cucumbers who would gladly give their all to have taken part in the number of sexual experiences that you have enjoyed. Of course, I did not fully appreciate this maxim fully at this early stage in my sexual education but I do so now in toto and urge its acceptance to all gallant gentlemen. In fact, it turned out that I had only a couple of hours to wait until my carnal appetite was totally sated by the exquisite Polly Aysgarth who, I will tell you now, dear reader, left our service shortly afterwards to take up a position in Lord Borehamwood's establishment down in London. Roger, his Lordship's youngest son, became infatuated with the sensuous parlourmaid and proposed marriage. Rather than attract the publicity that would be certain to occur if Polly went ahead with a breach-of-contract suit, his Lordship settled the affair by giving Polly four thousand pounds and sending the Honourable Roger off to Australia. Happily, all worked out for the best as Polly settled down in an admittedly unconventional form of marriage with the Russian roui Count Sasha Motkalevich and Roger is now one of the most prosperous sheep farmers in New South Wales. Back however, to my story-on our way upstairs Frank and I heard the sounds of giggling coming from Mr. Nolan's quarters and it sounded as though Katie Harbottle was enjoying her private view of Fred Nolan's equipment. However, being gentlemen, we did not eavesdrop and marched on through to the games room. False modesty is just as foolish as overweaning pride, so I will not disguise the fact that I easily vanquished Frank at table tennis, even though he was the best all-round sportsman in my form. We played snooker for a while but neither of us were good enough to make a game of it so we decided to wander back to the drawing room. We met Fred Nolan and Katie just coming out of his room and he looked somewhat flushed of face whilst she was busying herself doing up the buttons of her dress. 'Did you find Mr. Nolan's equipment of interest, Miss Harbottle?' I enquired as we approached them. Without batting an eyelid, she replied sweetly: 'Oh yes indeed, I was quite overwhelmed by the sight of his accoutrements.' 'I'll bet she was, the naughty girl,' I murmured to Frank as we passed by them. The Harbottles left shortly afterwards and Frank and I retired in good time for my chum to be able to dash unseen into my room after changing into his pyjamas. 'I've only cleaned my teeth as I thought I could take a shower after we've fucked Polly,' he said, taking off his dressing gown. I was already eagerly anticipating Polly's arrival and was sitting naked on the bed. Frank decided to slip off his pyjamas, too, as the night was very warm. When we had waited for Diana and Cecily I had been totally confident that they would appear but for some reason I had a nagging doubt as to whether our lusty parlourmaid would keep her word. But I need not have worried because on the stroke of eleven there was an urgent tap on the door. I leaped down and opened the door a fraction -yes, it was Polly, also clothed simply in a dressing gown and looking anxiously up and down the hallway to make sure that she had not been seen. 'Quick, come inside!' I whispered and after she had slipped in I closed the door behind her.

She sat on the bed and looked at Frank and myself. 'Well, boys, here I am and I hope that you two are good and ready for a good night's fucking because I feel very, very randy!' she said, letting the dressing gown fall from her shoulders to slide gracefully down her body. What a wonderful creation the human form is, I marvelled as, very deliberately, Polly traced her hands over her plump yet firm breasts before letting her fingers find their way around her belly and towards her dark, glossy pussey bush. Polly smiled knowingly as she rubbed her thumb against her pouting lips and flashed a saucy smile at us. 'Well, boys, do you approve of the goods on display or do you wish to return them to the manufacturer?' This was a somewhat rhetorical question for already both our cocks were standing smartly to attention and Polly inspected them critically. She was a happy, chatty kind of girl and she prattled away cheerfully as she took our two stiff pricks in her hands and rubbed them up to bursting point. 'M'm, these are two very good-looking cocks. I must admit, and I'm going to enjoy fucking and sucking them. But which one should I start with? Frank, yours is the biggest but size isn't everything. After all, Mr.

Goldhill hasn't got a very big one either but he always manages to bring me off time after time which is more than your Uncle Martin did.

Master Rupert, last time he was at Albion Towers. As Captain Luton down in the village-you know him, I believe, the old sailor who keeps the Fox and Feather Inn-is fond of saying, “It isn't the size of the ship that matters, it's the motion of the ocean!” So I think we'll start off with your prick. Master Rupert, and see what it tastes like.

But don't fret, Master Frank, I won't leave you out of it!' And without further ado she swooped down, clamping her luscious lips around the red mushroomed crown of my cock whilst she grasped Frank's massive shaft at its base and started to wank the rigid rod as she sucked lustily away at my uncapped helmet, washing her tongue over the sensitive knob until I thought I would faint away with the pleasure of it all. I groaned and pressed her curly-haired head downwards until her lips enclosed almost all my throbbing shaft and she dipped her head up and down with a regular motion that sent waves of pure ecstasy rolling out from my groin. I saw Frank's hand snake out towards Polly's pussey as she continued to rub his stiffstander. She wriggled across so that his fingers could play in her shiny muff. 'Well done, that's the way!' she gasped as he nudged his forefinger against her cunney lips and entered her moist cunt. He pushed first one and then two fingers deeper inside her love-box as she raised her hips up, panting breathlessly as he began to establish a rhythm. Her head continued to bob up and down over my twitching tool until I felt a great shudder of pleasure run through me and I shot a stream of hot spunk down her throat. Polly milked my prick expertly, sucking out every drop of frothy white essence out of my cock whilst Frank continued to play with her juicy cunney as she gripped his hands between her thighs and squeezed it hard against her dripping crack.

Polly smacked her lips and said: 'Master Rupert, your jism is less salty than your friend's, so even if his prick is bigger, your spunk tastes sweeter. There, does that make you feel better?'

Then without waiting for a reply, she turned her attention to Frank for she must have realised from the throbbing of his tool that he would soon shoot off if she carried on masturbating his manly pole.

So she lay back on the bed and parted her thighs as Frank clambered on top of her to press his purple knob against her cunney lips. I took hold of his giant shaft and guided it home, sliding the head of the veiny rammer. He sank into her cunt with a grateful sigh of relief.

Once his cock was totally enclosed in her channel Polly closed her thighs, making Frank open his legs and lie astride her with his penis well and truly trapped inside her pussey. 'I love doing this,'

Polly panted lewdly. 'Now you just fuck away, young Frank, and let me feel your big prick rub against the sides of my cunt!' However, Frank could scarcely move his cock as the muscles of her cunney were gripping his shaft so tightly but he was happy enough as Polly began to grind her hips round, massaging his prick as it throbbed away inside her cunt which by now was dribbling its love juices down her thighs. I was now desperate to join the fun and games but my cock was still hanging limp. Then suddenly I had a bright idea and slid my hand under Polly's backside and inserted my forefinger in her bum-hole. My precipitate action surprised but in no way upset Polly, who wiggled delightedly upon my finger and squealed: “You naughty boy, Master Rupert, who's been teaching you about bum-fiddling then!' For some reason this set off Frank and so Polly shifted her thighs and eased the pressure around his raging prick. My chum began to drive wildly now, in and out, in and out like a steamhammer, fucking at such intense speed that I knew he would soon send his gushings of foaming sperm flying out into Polly's sopping slit. Meanwhile, Polly was being brought off all the time, building herself up to a tremendous orgasm as the fierce momentum of Frank's fucking made her pussey disgorge a veritable rivulet of love juice. She brought her legs up against the small of his back as I continued to jab my finger in and out of her arse-hole. Frank now bore down on her yet again, his body now gleaming with perspiration, fucking that, juicy pussey faster and faster, the rippling movement of his cock sliding at breakneck speed against the glistening skin of her cunney. Then with a groan he spurted his seed, drenching her cunt with his jism as Polly quickly closed her thighs together again as he released his entire copious emission, not releasing him until his tool lay still, shrinking back to its natural flaccidness inside her. Polly wriggled up and rolled the unresisting body of Frank on to the side. 'Now, now, boys, we've only just started! Master Rupert, your cock looks just about ready for another game!' She took hold of my burgeoning prick which was by now stirring anew and it swelled up to its full proud proportions in her fist. She then lay back and drew her legs apart to expose the mark as I took my place on top of her. I glued my lips to hers and clutched her swelling breasts in my hands as she kept firm hold on my cock, ready to place it in position-but she had no need to do so, for the combination of her own and Frank's juices had prepared the oven for the dish, so to speak, and had made her pussey so slippery that my cock immediately slid right in deep inside her cunney without any preliminaries whatsoever. As soon as I felt my cock ensconced in her wet, throbbing sheath I began to heave and shove to our mutual enjoyment Through the intensity of the sucking off she had previously given me, I was able to prolong the ride, bringing the trembling girl off twice before I added my own sticky liquid tribute to the pungent blobs of love juice that had formed all around her pussey lips and in her furry tuft of cunney hair. I slicked my still stiff shaft in and out of her willing cunt until Polly said: Hold hard, Master Rupert, it looks like Frank's cock is rising up again. I think we can now all three play together now, won't that be fun?'

'I should say so,' said Frank, brandishing his erection in his hands and offering up the tip of his prick for Polly to suck. She slurped her lips over his bare red knob, liberally coating it with spittle before saying: 'I want you to fuck my bottom with that big cock of yours, Master Frank.'

She leaned over so that both Polly and I were lying on our sides, for I was still threading her juicy pussey whilst the above conversation was taking place, but this new position allowed her to thrust her chubby buttocks out as I bucked my way into her cunt. Frank then grasped her bum cheeks and parted the rounded globes so that the tiny wrinkled brown orifice between them was fully exposed. He manoeuvered the glowing knob of his proud cock between the adorable cheeks of her ripe derriere and eased it blissfully within the puckered rim of her rear dimple. 'Aaah! Oooh! Aaaah! It's going in! You've filled me up, you randy little fucker!' she cried as Frank urged his cock majestically upwards and inwards into her willing bottom. Polly twisted in delicious agonies as her backside yielded to this attack, grinding her cheeks against Frank's boyish flat belly. At one stage we both pushed our cocks in together and I felt my own staff rubbing against Frank's with only the thin divisional membrane of Polly's cunney and bum-hole running between us. I came first, pumping jet after jet of frothy white spunk while Polly and Frank continued to writhe in new paroxyms of pleasure as Frank corked her bottom, stirring her blood so hotly that she spent copiously as she panted out: 'Come on, Frank, shoot your sperm up my bum. Ooh, that's right, work your shaft in and out whilst you rub my titties!' Frank rammed away in earnest whilst her bottom bounced upon his belly and his sturdy cock eased back and forth between her tightened cheeks until he deluged her little bum-hole with his spoutings, letting Polly climb once more to the very summit of the mountain of love in a final tremulous orgasm. We continued to revel in such voluptuous delights until our pricks were simply incapable of further use to the insatiable wench, even when she crammed both of our stalks into her mouth and attempted to suck them up again to fresh erections. Ye Gods!

What a fizzling fucker was young Polly Aysgarth, a girl who taught me that to fully enjoy the pleasures of love-making, it is necessary to cast aside all mental restraints, for man was made for woman and woman was made for man and as for the parsons and other do-gooders who can only cavil at mutual enjoyment of The Sins Of The Flesh', well, the more fool, they! Polly left us shortly after two o'clock in the morning to sleep away the rest of the night in her own room. I was concerned that she would be reprimanded for not working well the next day, for she would have to be up at six o'clock sharp if not before, and less than four hours' sleep is insufficient for a hard-working servant. But Polly informed us that she had already arranged with Mr.

Goldhill that if he would not disturb her until noon, she would suck his cock as soon as she had woken up, which sounded a most equitable arrangement to my way of thinking. Frank was too tired even to put on his pyjamas, let alone to retire to his own room, so we snuggled up together, quite nude, under the eiderdown. I was the first to wake, and though my balls had been emptied more times than I could remember the night before, miraculously they were full again and my cock was standing up majestically to attention. I looked down and saw that Frank's truncheon was in the same fine condition. He was still half-asleep when I took his hand and brought it down to my stiffstander, and he moved his fingers in compliance once I had moved them up and down my tingling staff. I then grasped hold of my pal's tremendous tadger and pumped away with my fist. Simultaneously we spent together, our cocks spurting their gummy essence over the sparse covering of hair around the bases of our shafts and onto our bellies.

'Damn, we've made the sheet sticky,' said Frank. I peered down and said: 'I wouldn't worry, old boy, look how stained the sheet is from last night cavortings!' But before Frank could reply, there was a brisk knock-knock at the door and in came Sally with my early morning cup of tea. Frank dived beneath the bed-clothes as she put the tray down and went over to the windows to pull open the curtains.

'Good morning, Master Rupert,' she said cheerily. 'Wake up now, it's gone eight o'clock and it's time to get up.' She moved across to the bed and of course immediately saw through Frank's inadequate camouflage. 'Who's that in bed with you, then?* she asked brightly.

'Let's have a look.' And before I could prevent it, she threw back the eiderdown to discover that it was Frank cowering besides me and that we were both naked. 'Dear me, I would have thought you two were old enough and experienced enough to prefer real fucking to playing with each other,' she said reproachfully. 'We are too,' muttered Frank, 'but I was too sleepy from all the fucking last night to go back to my room.' 'Well, it's just as well I came in here first,' commented Sally, 'for if I had gone into your room and found that the bed had not been slept in, I might have raised the alarm and then goodness knows what might have happened.' Thank goodness you didn't, Sally, we're very grateful.' I said, covering Frank and myself up with the eiderdown. 'You don't have to be shy! she said. 'I've seen what you've got to offer before, remember? I'm a bit miffed, though, that you didn't tell me that there was some fucking going on because I would have loved to have joined in. Who was with you? It couldn't have been Katie Harbottle because I saw her leave with her parents and anyhow she fancies that spry Yankee gentleman Mr. Nolan.'

You can't keep anything secret from the servants, I thought, but when Sally asked me again which girls had been sharing our bed I shook my head.*You wouldn't like it if it had been you and someone else had asked the next day,' I said reprovingly.*You're quite right.

Master Rupert. It's a right good maxim for both boys and girls never to tell your friends who you're fucking, unless they pass on the clap in which case you must tell everybody who'll listen to you.' She may have only been a humble servant-girl but her pithy, blunt words should always be remembered by those engaged in any kind of fucking.

Sally looked again and saw that some of the spunk stains on the sheet were fresh. 'Have«you two just been tossing each other off? What a pity, I'm sure you would have enjoyed it even more if you'd have let me do it for you.' 'I'm sure we would have done, Sally,' agreed Frank with a touch of sarcasm in his voice as he tried unsuccessfully to rub his tool up to its former stiffness for her approval. 'But then we didn't know you would be bringing us early morning tea let alone providing any hand relief.' 'Oh yes, I wank any gentlemen guests at Albion Towers who request my services,' said Sally as she sat down on the bed. 'I would have seen to that American Mr. Nolan but he was taking a bath when I knocked on his door and he didn't ask me to do anything for him except to shut the door behind me when I left his room.' I looked at her in disbelief. 'What about Mama's cousins, the Reverend Horace Dumpole, who stayed with us for a week earlier this year? You're surely not telling-' She laughed heartily at my naivete. The Reverend Horace? Surely you must be joking, Master Rupert. Why, he was one of the gamest boys I've ever seen. After he found out what I would do for him, every morning regular as clockwork he'd be lying naked on his bed waiting for me, fondling his shaft as if he could hardly wait. Mind, he was shy at first,' she added thoughtfully. 'What happened was that on the second day of his visit I took him his tea and when I leaned over to put down the tray, I made sure he got a good look at my breasts. I'd kept the top buttons undone, you see, and my chemise was cut so low that he could easily hardly fail to see my titties when I bent over him. I could see how excited he was because his hands were shaking so much when I gave him his tea that he spilled most of it into the saucer! Anyhow, I took the cup away and told him to take off his nightshirt as he'd spilled tea all over it and it would be best if I put it in the wash straightaway.

'He protested at first but after a little persuasion off came the nightshirt. But as he handed it to me you will never guess what I noticed lying on the bed-it was a copy of The Intimate Memoirs Of Jenny Everleigh! “My, my,” I joked. “I would have thought that this was rather a rude book for a Man of the Cloth.” He blushed a deep shade of puce and said: “Ah, yes, er, yes, well, the truth of the matter is that I borrowed this book to illustrate to my flock what kind of unsuitable material there is available at certain bookshops and how careful good people must be not to buy such publications in error when for example they might wish to purchase The Recollections of Reverend James Everleigh, the former Bishop of Swaziland, which is a very different volume indeed, I can assure you.” '“I'm sure it is, your Reverence,” I giggled, “and I'm sure it is a very worthy book as well but it wouldn't give rise to spunk stains on your sheets.”

“There aren't any spunk stains, I always use my handkerchief,” said Horace indignantly and then he clapped his hand to his mouth for he realised that he'd given the game away! '“Now, now, don't be a silly boy, there's nothing wrong at all with taking yourself in hand once in a while,” I said soothingly and lifted up the eiderdown to look for myself at what this ecclesiastical gentleman had to offer. I was pleasantly surprised to see a fine-looking specimen hanging over his thigh, while resting on the sheet below his shaft lay a very heavy pair of balls. I passed my tongue hungrily over my lips for it had been three days since I had any canoodling. Goldhill had been busy seeing to Polly as usual and my boy friend Jack the blacksmith's son had been laid up with influenza. So I took off my blouse and skirt and sat down on the bed clad only in my chemise. '“My child, what in the name of heaven are you doing?” stammered the Reverend Horace Dumpole. '“I thought you might like to hear my confession. I've got quite a few juicy stories to get off my chests,” I said.

'“Surely you mean chest,” he corrected me. '“Oh no, chests, both of them,” I chuckled, quickly slipping off the chemise and pressing my bare bubbies together which made him gasp. His trouser snake began to stir under the bedclothes. “Would you like to hear my confession or not?” I demanded, climbing up on top of him. '“I would love to, my dear, but you see I am not a Catholic,” he said regretfully. '“Well, neither am I but you can still listen to them if you like!” I said, as teasingly I dangled my breasts up and down his body, just grazing his skin with my tawny titties. Moving down, I could see his erect cock throbbing with excitement so I lowered my nipples on to his knob and just brushed it. I knew he wouldn't last long and I only had to repeat this three more times before he shot an immense white fountain of sperm up over his belly.

His cock twitched so powerfully that a few flying drops of spunk caught me on my breasts. Oooh, this did make me feel randy especially as I let my titties slide in the little pools of jism on his tummy. I lifted my nips up and licked up the sticky cream as best I could.'

Of course, by now, Frank and I both sported capital stiffstanders and Sally took hold of them in her hands as she continued: 'He was a nice chap, old Horace, and after what I have just told you about he always left me half a crown on the bedside table each morning as a tip for bringing in his early morning tea to his room.' 'And of course, for his daily wank!' I commented. 'Oh no, Master Rupert, I didn't rub his prick every day,' said Sally. 'You didn't?'

'No, occasionally I would suck him off!' she chuckled. 'He gave me a ten shilling note for that which I thought was very generous. On his last morning when I came in he had already taken his bath and was sitting on the bed in his undershorts. He must have been thinking about me because I could see the purple knob of his prick had reared up above the waistband of his drawers. I set down my tray and without a word undressed until I stood naked except for my chemise. With trembling hands he pulled down the shoulder straps and caressed my titties until my pussey was as moist as anything. I pulled off his shorts and his stiff veiny shaft sprang free and I kissed the uncapped helmet whilst fondling his huge balls. 'He leaned forward and kissed my neck and he lifted me across to the dressing table. I sat on it and opened my legs and buried his face between my unresisting thighs. He sucked up all the love juice that was trickling down from my cunney and then his tongue found its way further until it found my ditty. He chewed on it which almost sent me off then and there but with a groan he carried me back to the bed and I lay on my back, my swollen sex lips waiting for his swollen tool. He groaned and then thrust his shaft straight in my cunt without the least difficulty. His heavy ballsack slapped against my wet bum as I wrapped my legs until he spurted his juicy froth inside me in a marvellous mutual spend.'

That was surely worth more than ten bob,' said Frank, panting slightly as Sally was now wanking both our cocks by rubbing our shafts against the soft velvety skin of her inner arms. 'You're right there, Master Frank, he pressed a pound note into my hand after we had both dressed,' she said complacently. 'You must be quite a wealthy young miss,' I said laughingly. 'Not really,' said Sally.

'I enjoy sucking and fucking but would never do it just for money. I wouldn't even have taken the presents Horace and other gentleman have given me but I'm helping my brother Tom through college. He won the Sir Louis Baum Scholarship to Oxford University last year. But he always needs money for his living expenses and there are so many books that he has to buy.' 'What is he studying?' I said, breathing in heavily as Sally had now changed her style to tossing us off more slowly by making a circle with her forefinger and thumb and rubbing up and down the length of our cocks, barely touching the skin but chafing deliciously against the ridges of our knobs. 'He's taking a degree in Politics, Philosophy and Economics. Tom's a fervent Socialist and wants to become a Member of Parliament.' 'Never mind about those members, here's a member which is about to spout cock juice!' interrupted Frank as my own prick started to jerk uncontrollably in Sally's hand. We spunked almost together and Sally leaned forward to lick one cock and then the other, licking and lapping the jism that flew out of our bursting shafts. Alas, we did not have time to repay the compliment though both of us would have appreciated a lesson in muff-diving from the gorgeous girl. But, hopefully, this would come at a later time. 'By the by, Master Rupert,' said Sally as she walked to the door. 'I couldn't help reading that lovely poem you wrote to Miss Wigmore which I saw in your exercise book. Now I don't want any money from you or Master Frank but I'd be very happy if you wrote a few verses for me to put in my scrapbook. Would you do that for me?' As I said just before, you simply cannot keep anything secret from the servants! I should have reported her to Mr. Goldhill for looking in my bedside drawer, but she had more than repaid this trifling wrongdoing! And her request for a keepsake was hardly a bothersome imposition. 'Very well, Sally, Frank and I will spend the morning composing an ode to you, on the condition that you don't show it to all and sundry in the servants' hall downstairs,' I said with a grin. 'I promise I won't, Master Rupert, never fear,' she replied as she opened the door. 'Shall I tell your Dad that you'll be down for breakfast in half an hour? You know how shirty he gets if you aren't at the table by half past eight and it's nearly twenty past eight already!' Sally was right about my father's mood when Frank and I finally came down to breakfast. 'What sort of time do you call this?' he demanded. 'Young Folkestone, I'm sure your house has finished breakfast at this late hour.' Frank nodded weakly as he helped himself to tea and toast. 'Is that all you're having? There's bacon, eggs, sausages, kedgeree and Mrs.

Randall will cook you a steak if that takes your fancy.' 'No thank you very much, sir, I rarely eat a cooked breakfast,' replied Frank politely. 'H'rumph, well, you must keep your strength up,' remarked my father and I muttered to my chum that he could have said that at least one portion of his anatomy was being kept up without any problem! My mother, who had been perusing the Manchester Guardian, looked up and said: 'Have you two boys forgotten that Mr. Nolan is making a film this morning? He left a message to say that if you are interested in seeing him at work he has gone to Knaresborough Castle.

Your father has provided him with a horse and cart and he left here about an hour ago.' Great Scott! In all the excitement of our late night and early morning escapades I had forgotten all about our American film-maker. 'Fred Nolan's a damned fine horseman,' grunted my father. 'I offered him the choice of a motor vehicle or the services of one of our coachmen but he declined, saying that he preferred to take the reins himself. But then he spent a year down in Texas as a cowboy so I suppose that's where he became such an expert.' 'Can we ride over there?' I asked.. 'Certainly not, it's only two miles and you're best to hike it. I daresay you can travel back with Mr. Nolan but a brisk morning constitutional will do you good. You both look a bit pasty round the gills this morning. Mind, I don't know why either of you should both look so tired, neither of you took any exercise yesterday.' Little did he know!