The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.II

CHAPTER ONE. A Freshman's Tale

'Here's a little trick which will amuse the ladies at your party tonight,' said Barry Jacobs, a fellow undergraduate I met during my second week of the Varsity when we were both chosen to play football for the college team on the strength that we had both captained our school elevens at soccer. He was a clever chap and though our life paths took very different directions after leaving Oxford, Barry and I have remained close personal chums. 'Do you have a pencil and paper to hand? listen carefully now, Rupert-take your age and double it; then add five. Right? Now, think of any number between one and ninety-nine; and now take away the number of days in a year. Finally, add one hundred and fifteen and divide by one hundred.

Now see where the decimal point comes. Your age will be to the left of it and the number between one and ninety-nine that you chose will be to the right of it! Isn't that amazing?' But dear readers, I feel that I am in too much haste in beginning these recollections of my splendid years spent 'twixt the dreaming spires of the internationally famous University of Oxford, in the heart of England's green and pleasant land. For those of you who have yet to read of my early exploits in the grand l'art de faire l'amour I had best swiftly sketch the bare details of my life so far. Although my family seat is in Yorkshire, I attended boarding school down in Sussex at St Lionel's Academy For the Sons Of Gentlefolk. I was initiated into the joys of sensuality, however, by Diana Wigmore, the beautiful daughter of a neighbour and my friend Frank Folkestone (who also crossed the Rubicon during that never-to-be-forgotten summer holiday) and I enjoyed further liaisons at school with Prince Salman of Lockshenstan. Salman, the son of a fabulously wealthy maharajah, liked nothing better than to fuck himself into a stupor at any and every opportunity and the girls of the nearby village queued up to receive his spunky libations and twenty pound notes which he generously distributed to his female companions. Nevertheless, all play and no work is a recipe for disaster as Dr Keeleigh, our dear old headmaster used to say, and Salman took his wise words to heart. My Indian pal was a diligent scholar and I was sorry that he did not accept the place offered him at University College, Oxford but preferred to continue his scientific studies at Trinity College, Cambridge. However, we did keep in touch from time to time as will be recorded in this narrative. My other inseparable schoolfellow was Frank Folkestone and to our mutual delight we were both accepted by Balliol College to study law. Our rooms were on the same landing in college which pleased us both and, as will be noted, this arrangement proved to be extremely convenient for, how shall I best put it, our often joint extra mural activities.

Hopefully this will set the scene for you, dear reader. Let us now return to a pleasant day in early October, 1899. I was walking down St Cross Road with Barry Jacobs after we had taken part in an hour's training for the football match against Brasenose College to be played on the following Saturday. It had been a dry, warm summer and the weather had yet to turn cold and walking slowly away from the playing fields I felt at peace with the world. In the quiet lane I thought I could hear some conkers falling and I noticed that the ash-keys were turning gold along with a few adjacent leaves-but all other leaves on the ash-tree boughs were still green. Barry had also been affected by the beauty of our surroundings and he exclaimed: 'We're really lucky chaps to be at Oxford, aren't we Rupert? How did the poet put it:

Towery city and branchy between towers; Cuckoo-echoing, bell swarmed, lark-charmed, rook-racked, river rounded; The dapple-eared lily below thee…'

'Very well said-especially coming from a mathematics scholar!' I joked, 'but frankly I'm thinking of a more down-to-earth matter. I've been invited to a reception this evening given by Doctor Nicholas Blayers at Jesus College. He's a cousin of the headmaster at my old school and probably the most radically minded senior tutor in the entire University. He believes in mixed colleges with boys and girls studying together. Now you know how resistant most Oxonians were to the idea of women being admitted at all and how today their colleges are strictly out of bounds to us. 'Well, because he believes (and quite rightly in my opinion) that undergraduates of both sexes should mix freely without undue hindrance, at his own expense Doctor Blayers is throwing a party for a group of first year female students from Somerville College and a similar number of male freshmen. Now I happen to know that several of these girls have come to Oxford from Trippett's Academy For The Daughters Of Gentlefolk down in the West Country. This is a school run by Dame Agatha Humphrey, the famous champion of higher education for women and frankly, I'm more than a little apprehensive about meeting sophisticated young ladies from there. You attended a day school in London and I doubt whether you can appreciate what a sheltered life one has to live even at a progressive English boarding school like St Lionel's.' Barry looked at me in some astonishment. 'What on earth have you to be scared about? What a marvellous chance you have to meet some girls- gosh, Rupert, I wish I had been given an invitation to such a spiffing party. I just can't imagine any problem or are you just very shy?'

'Yes, I suppose I am,' I admitted, for with the exception of my initiation into the joys of fucking by Diana and her friend Cecily, along with some uninhibited horseplay with some housemaids at St Lionel's with Frank and Salman, I had little to no experience of social intercourse with the female sex. 'I'm worried that I will find myself quite tongue-tied. How do I continue a conversation with a girl after enquiring about the state of the weather? To be honest, I'm uncertain about what to say next!' 'Now this can often be a thorny problem for boys,' admitted Barry as we trudged along. It has to be said that girls are not usually interested in current affairs (except those of an intimate nature!), sport or other masculine pursuits, and we are hardly enraptured by feminine chit-chat. Also, they have been told by their mamas that they must not be too forward in the initiation of conversation with young men and should only speak when spoken to-so this makes the situation even more difficult.

'My solution is to try your luck with subjects such as the weather, gardening, food, the latest plays or the current exhibition at the Royal Academy. This usually works although, of course, I cannot give you a cast-iron guarantee of success. However, just before I came up to Oxford my uncle, Sir Lewis Osborne, invited me to a splendid dinner-party to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of my cousin Philippa. I was sitting next to an extremely attractive girl named Adrienne and I tried my best to impress her with some smart, sophisticated conversation. In vain I went through all the subjects I have just mentioned but I couldn't raise the slightest glimmer of interest. I even tried talking about the magnificent dishes being served which were all strictly kosher but she barely concealed her boredom and was even beginning to yawn. 'At this stage I was frankly ready to throw in the towel but just then a footman approached and handed me a note on a silver salver. “A message from your cousin Philippa, sir,” he whispered into my ear. I opened it surreptitiously under the tablecloth and with difficulty deciphered Philippa's scrawl.

She had written: Try Votes For Women, so I pocketed the scrap of paper and tackled Adrienne again. “What do you think of Mrs. Pankhurst and the suffragettes?” I asked and voila! instantly into her lovely brown eyes leapt a bright gleam of genuine interest. 'Philippa had noticed how I was struggling and her kind message certainly did the trick for me. Adrienne was an ardent supporter of the emancipation of women and as I have never understood why women should be treated as second class citizens I could honestly put my hand on my heart and tell her that I agreed with every word she said. I told her of my father's letter on the subject which had been published a few weeks back in The Daily Chronicle. He had argued that women's suffrage would come once the present social, educational and economic changes now taking place had worked themselves through the system. The choice is not between going on and standing still, it is between advancing and retreating, he had written in his forceful conclusion. '“Oh, so it was your Papa who wrote that letter,” said Adrienne, now flashing a luscious smile at me. “How silly of me not to have realised that Leonard Jacobs was your Papa. I know of his reputation as a generous philanthropist and I am glad to hear that he holds progressive social views.” '“Like his son,” I added with a twinkle in my eye and she squeezed my hand as she said: “I'm very glad to hear it.” Well, from an unpromising start the evening could hardly have gone better. After dinner we sat and chatted and she even accepted a lift home in my hansom, sending her parents' carriage back, telling the coachman that she had made other arrangements. I escorted her to her front door and she invited me in for a night-cap.' He paused and I said: 'Well go on, old boy, don't stop there. This sounds like a story with a jolly interesting ending!' Barry laughed and said: 'Well, it does get a little spicy, Rupert, and I wouldn't want to offend your aesthetic sensibilities. Are you sure you want me to continue?'

'You'd better watch out for your own aesthetic sensibilities if you don't carry on!' I retorted, and so with a grin he continued the tale. 'Well, it was well past midnight when we arrived at her parents' house in Allendale Avenue. Everyone had retired and she told the footman who had waited up for her that he too could now go to bed.

She poured out large cognacs which we sipped as we sat together on the sofa. “You know, Barry, it's funny that I did not realise that Leonard Jacobs was your father,” she said thoughtfully, “but then we don't always know everything about our parents, do we? Why, only last week I discovered that my own Papa has a collection of sketches by poor Aubrey Beardsley. He has kept them under lock and key in the library but by chance I picked them up the other day. Would you like to see them?” '“I certainly would, Adrienne,” I said, and she brought over a folder from a bureau in the corner of the room. I opened it and the first picture was of two plump nuns lying naked on a bed working dildoes into their open cunnies. They were being watched by two monks peeping round the door who had thrown up their cassocks and pulled out their pricks, each tossing off the other as they looked upon the lascivious women playing with themselves. The next drawing really made my cock swell up. It showed a beautiful dark-haired girl seated on the lap of her lover. Both were nude and between her thighs you could see that her pussey was engorged with his swollen cockshaft. She had one hand round his neck and in the other she was cupping his hairy ballsack.

'It became quite obvious that Adrienne's blood had also been fired by sight of these erotic drawings. She pressed her thighs together and made no objection when my arm stole round her shoulders and she cuddled into my body as we looked at another illustration of this same couple, only this time the girl was kneeling between his legs, her bottom well stuck out and the furrow in between shown in loving detail. She was shown opening her lips in order to take the shiny knob of the young fellow's stiff lovestick inside her mouth. The next sketch showed her flat on her back with her legs wide open. Her handsome lover was balancing on his forearms above her and this time her cunney was engorged with the thick prick of her lover who had inserted his staff in to the very roots of his pubic hair. 'I could no longer contain my feelings and I burst out: “My God! Wouldn't I give anything to be in his place.” I bit my lip as soon as I had uttered this heartfelt but uncouth plea. Surely she would recoil away in disgust! But to my surprise and absolute joy, Adrienne placed her hand directly on my straining cock. She unbuttoned my trousers and brought out my throbbing tool which she stroked gently with her hand, saying with a mischievous chuckle: “Yes, Barry, your pego confirms the truth of your last remark.” 'Well, you don't look a gift horse in the mouth! I covered her lips with my own and instantly we were exchanging the most passionate, burning kiss. Our tongues fluttered in each other's mouths as I raised her dress and petticoats and she arched her back upwards to allow me to pull down her knickers as she tugged down my trousers and drawers to the floor. She continued to rub my cock in her hand as I played with her moistening pussey which was daintily fringed with light brown hair and her cunney lips opened immediately when I inserted my finger between them. We continued to pet and I frigged her juicy cunt with two and then three fingers, faster and faster as I knew that the warm touch of her soft hand would very soon bring me off. 'I could now simply no longer control the tidal flow of jism which was boiling up in my balls. Adrienne sensed that I was about to spend, for with her other hand she quickly pulled down an antimacassar from the top of the sofa and placed the linen cloth on my thighs as she slicked her hand up and down my rigid rod. I began to pant and she felt my cock contract before I squirted my spout of spunk all over her hand. She came too, clenching my fingers with her love juices, but we used her knickers and the antimacassar to wipe up the traces of our escapade before I left shortly afterwards.'

'So you didn't get further than that?' I said, and the disappointment must have shown in my voice for Barry turned round and replied: 'Well, surely you don't think she'd let me fuck her, do you?'

'Why not? You'd be surprised how many girls are just as keen as you on fucking. Don't you listen to anyone who says they don't enjoy it as much as us.' Barry looked at me and frowned. 'Are you telling me you've already had a woman, young Mountjoy? You lucky so-and-so. I've come pretty close on several occasions and we once employed a Welsh chambermaid named Gladys who sucked me off but I've never actually gone all the way. Damn it, here am I telling you how to talk to girls and all the time you're way ahead of me!' 'I've just been very lucky,' I replied modestly and I swiftly recounted how I had surrendered my virginity to Diana Wigmore and of my subsequent successes with my pal Frank Folkestone, who Barry had already met at a Liberal Club reception for college freshmen. Took, Barry, I know how frustrated you must feel, never having been able to complete the journey, so to speak. Look, I've a splendid idea. Come with me to Doctor Blayers' party tonight. You'll be more than welcome, I'm sure, especially as Frank won't be able to come as he is suffering from a rotten head cold-and you'll make up the numbers.' At first he demurred. That's very kind of you, Rupert, but I just can't barge into a party without being asked. I'm as shy as you when it comes to gate-crashing!' 'Look, if it will make you feel any better I'll ask Jackson to run over with a note to Doctor Blayers asking if you can come in Frank's place.' He looked gratefully at me. Thanks, old boy, I'd much rather go with a proper invite.' As soon as we arrived back at College I scribbled a quick letter and told the College messenger boy to wait for the reply. Then I strode across to Frank Folkestone's room to see if the poor chap was feeling any better. I didn't knock on the door in case he had fallen asleep and I opened the door very slowly and carefully so as not to disturb him.

But though he had earlier told me that he was going to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to sleep off his cold, his bed was empty, though the eiderdown had been thrown back and the bedclothes were ruffled. I was about to leave when suddenly I heard a low moan coming from behind the closed door of his bathroom. Oh dear, I hope Frank isn't feeling really ill, I thought as I marched across the room and flung open the bathroom door with a theatrical flourish. I needn't have concerned myself! For there was Frank, sitting in the large bath of warm water-not moaning with pain but with passion for with him in the water was Nancy, our young maidservant, who was lathering his erect penis which stood up out of the water like the periscope of a submarine. They were so engrossed in their sexual play that they did not realise that I was there. Nancy got up on her knees and her succulent large breasts jiggled invitingly, which made my balls tingle and my prick stir in my pants. She now rinsed Frank's enormous erection with water and said: 'Now it looks really nice and clean, doesn't it? Let me see if it tastes as good as it looks.'

His eyes closed in ecstasy, Frank leaned back and arched his back up slightly as this time Nancy washed his shiny round knob with her slithering tongue as Frank cupped her big breasts in his hands. Well, the sight of this gorgeous creature holding Frank's shaft whilst she sucked his cock drove me wild and my fingers began to tear wildly at my trouser buttons so that I could release my own stiffstander, which was threatening to burst through the thin material of my flannels. My hand flew to my trusty tool and I wanked away frantically as Nancy now pulled out the plug. As the water level fell, I could see Frank snake out his right arm and plunge his fingers directly into her slippery pussey. Nancy looked up at me through her half-open eyes which widened to their full extent as she gave a tiny scream. 'Oh, Frank, Frank, someone's come in!' Frank woke up from his delightful reverie in alarm but as soon as he saw that the uninvited guest who had caught him in flagrante delicto was none other than his old chum from St Lionel's his face creased into a grin. 'Not to worry, Nancy, why, it's only Rupert Mountjoy. He and I are best pals and we do everything together. All for one and one for all and all that nonsense.' She considered this for a moment and said: 'You do, do you? Well, in that case Rupert, why don't you stop rubbing your own cock and let me do it for you once Frank has fucked me with his tremendous tadger?' Here we go again, I thought, for readers of my earlier diaries will note how often I have had to grind my teeth whilst a girl hymns a paean of praise to Frank's gigantic member!

However, I proceeded to shed my clothes whilst Nancy and Frank climbed out of the bath and dried themselves with the huge bathtowels Frank's Mama, Lady Folkestone, had packed for him in his valise when he left home for the Varsity. Nancy and Frank now exchanged a series of slurping kisses and his hands massaged her breasts as her hips swayed in hypnotic rhythm. I cupped my hand over her hairy pussey, rubbing the exposed, erect clitty with my middle finger. But she pushed my hand aside to press in Frank's bulbous bell-end between her cunney lips. She drew about two inches of his thick, meaty shaft inside her cunt and this was enough to drive her insane with desire.

Arching her back, she raised herself on tiptoes, forcing more of his prick inside her as she grasped my own iron-hard rod in her right hand. 'I want more of this cock in me-all the way,' she groaned as his fat shaft slid out of her slippery pussey and flopped against her belly. Still holding my cock tightly in her fist, she turned her back to Frank and leaned over the bath, offering her chubby little bottom to him. He parted the peachlike bum cheeks and she turned round and said: 'Frank, don't go up my arse, there's a good boy. I'd be frightened that you'd rend me in two with that mighty tool of yours.'

'Have no fear-I'll only ream out your cunney,' assured Frank as he shoved his truncheon in the inviting cleft between her buttocks and entered her cunt from behind. Nancy pushed her hips back as he plunged his prick all the way into her sopping slit. I watched her hips rotate in a sensuous circular motion as she enjoyed this grand doggie-style fucking. I saw Frank's cock slew in and out of her hot, juicy cunt and Nancy's hand shot up and down my own boner which triggered off my orgasm and my cock unleashed a fountain of sticky white jism that arced across the bath and splashed against the wall. The lewd girl came at the same time as Frank, who sent a gush of warm spunk deep into her cunney, and she came with a full-throated scream of pleasure as her love juices flowed down her thighs. 'How about letting me fuck you now?' I asked Nancy as, although my cock had lost some of its stiffness, my still enlarged shaft was still swinging heavily between my legs. 'I'd love to, Mister Rupert, but honestly I don't have the time. I'm late as it is and I've still got to clean up the bathroom,' she replied with what appeared to be genuine regret in her voice. Naturally, after we dressed ourselves we helped Nancy finish her work and I saw Frank slip a sovereign in her hand as she left the room. 'She didn't ask for anything,' he explained as the door closed behind her, 'but yesterday Nancy told me about how she is saving up for a new dress this Christmas and I thought I would help her out.' 'Very generous, I'm sure,' I commented, 'But actually I thought you were down with a bad cold and wouldn't be going to Doctor Blayers' party tonight.' 'I am suffering from a chill though I feel much better after that fuck with Nancy. But I don't think I'll risk going out in the night air, Rupert, if you don't mind. You don't need me to hold your hand there, do you? No, I'll stay in this evening and think of you enjoying yourselves with all those pretty girls.'

Thank you, Frank, and certainly I don't need you to hold my hand-or anything else for that matter! But I'll certainly be thinking of you wrapped up in bed all on your own.' Frank flashed a wicked smile. 'Wrapped up, yes but not alone for too long, old boy, for after she's finished her chores, Nancy's promised to tuck me up for the night!' I rolled my eyes upwards-there had been no stopping Frank Folkestone ever since Diana and Cecily had first allowed him to cram his cock into their cunnies. 'Bye then, I'll see you tomorrow,' I said as I waved my farewell, thinking that at least Frank's absence might well provide an opportunity for Barry Jacobs to begin his rites of passage. The messenger returned just as I was about to take a shower to wash away the perspiration from what had just taken place in Frank's bathroom. As expected, Doctor Blayers was disappointed that Frank could not come to his gathering and wished him a speedy recovery, but was delighted that I had procured a substitute at the last minute as he believed in keeping even the numbers of young men and women at his soirees. I decided to take down this note to Barry as it would put him at ease, knowing that he would be genuinely welcomed at the reception. So slipping on a dressing gown, I popped downstairs to his room, and would you believe it, who should be with him when I opened the door which had been left slightly ajar but the voluptuous Nancy. They were entwined together naked on the bed, kissing mouth to mouth as Barry's hand was squeezing her full breasts and she pulled her hand up and down his twitching staff. 'Ahem, we meet again, Nancy,' I said and the shameless minx looked up and grinned saucily, saying: 'Oh fuck, I thought I hadn't closed the door properly. Be a love, Mister Rupert, and shut it firmly behind you.'

I couldn't help laughing as I obeyed her request and I said: 'Do carry on, don't mind me.' 'Fine,' she said, her fist wrapped round Barry's prick as she moved her hand up and down in regular stroking motions. 'Is that nice, Barry? I'll rub your cock a little harder if you like.' 'Yes please, Nancy, rub a little harder and put your other hand on my balls, move your fingers further back, still further, ahhh, that's wonderful, truly wonderful.' She obliged him and rubbed his shaft at a faster pace until with a hoarse cry he spent, and great globs of frothy, creamy spunk shot out from the top of his purple helmet. 'You're a busy young lady,' I observed as Nancy twisted her body off the bed and bent down to slip on her knickers.

'Yes, there are always a great number of first year students who appreciate my personal services,' she agreed, pulling on her chemise.

'How did you know that I wouldn't have appreciated being asked if I wanted to try out these services?' I wondered. 'Oh, you're on tomorrow's list,' she replied blithely. 'I was going to leave Mister Barry till then but when I came in to empty his wastepaper basket he looked so forlorn I thought I'd see if I could cheer him up a bit, poor boy.' Barry gave a nervous laugh and added: 'Nancy came in just at the right time to boost my confidence for tonight's affair.'

My eyebrows rose as I exclaimed: 'And I thought that I was the shy fellow. Now I can't even use the gambit of that weird mathematical puzzle you showed me earlier today to open a conversation!' But before Barry could utter a choice riposte, Nancy sat on the bed and, taking Barry's cock in her hand, said with a puzzled look on her face, 'Do you know, I've only just realised what it is that made Barry's prick look so different to any other tool I've ever handled. What's happened to your foreskin, love-did you have to have it surgically removed? I hope you never caught some kind of nasty disease.'

'No, no, not at all. I've been circumcised, Nancy, and I must say I'm rather surprised that you've never seen a circumcised cock before.

Let me explain-circumcision is the biblical covenant God made with Abraham and his descendents, and all Jewish boys have their foreskins removed eight days after birth by a religious official known as a mohel. Muslims too chop off the prepuce for the same religious reason.

But quite a few Christian chaps at my school were also circumcised in infancy because a growing number of doctors believe the practice to be hygenic.' 'Yes, there were a few Roundheads in the sixth form at St Lionel's,' I agreed, 'but one poor chap had to undergo the operation when he was fifteen because his foreskin was too tight. It must be a jolly painful operation.' “For him, maybe,' chuckled Barry, 'but as I was only eight days old when the cut was made, I remember absolutely nothing about it.' Nancy eyed his circumcised shaft which was beginning to swell up again in her palm. 'Well, you learn something every day. I've never seen one of these shafts before and I must admit that it is not displeasing to the eye. I would imagine that it must feel nice to fuck or to be sucked or tossed off without any additional covering over your cock. 'What an awesome and responsible job for the mohel,' she added before licking her lips and jamming them over Barry's rubicund mushroom knob and sucking him up to a rock-hard stiffstander. It doesn't command any salary as he's expected to donate his fees to charity,' gasped Barry as Nancy's hand cupped his hairy ballsack whilst she continued to lick and lap his pulsating penis which had risen up majestically under her skilful sucking,*but as any mohel will tell you, the wages are poor but the tips are great!' I smiled my appreciation at this witticism but Nancy was far too involved in palpating his prick to have heard his jest. She somehow managed to take almost all of his rampant rod between her lips and bobbed her head up and down so that Barry fucked her mouth without even having to move a muscle! It took less than a minute for Barry's prick to begin to twitch uncontrollably and Nancy's mouth was soon filled with frothy white foam as she swallowed all the jism from his throbbing tool, gulping down every last milky drop of spunk as his shaft shrank back into submission. 'I'm always the best man but never the groom,' I complained as my own prick was now bulging up high against my belly. Nancy flicked open my robe and seeing my raging stiffstander she grinned: 'I'll come round one day soon and we'll see what we can do for Mr. John Thomas then.'

There was no time for any further conversation so I went back upstairs to my room and dressed, consoled somewhat by Nancy's promise.

By the time Barry and I were ready to go the evening air was rather chill, although a soft light still shone through the windows as we made the short journey across Broad Street to Doctor Blayers' rooms in Jesus College. But when we reached the gates a college servant informed us that the good doctor had booked a hall for his reception at a nearby tavern. At the same time two girls who had also been invited to the party arrived and we escorted them down to a small turning just off Cornmarket Street where the party was taking place.

We introduced ourselves as we walked to the new venue and, as always happens in a foursome, we paired off almost immediately. I squired Beth Randall, a charming tall, blonde girl whilst Barry chatted to Esme Dyotte, an equally attractive young lady whose mop of slightly disordered brown hair and dashing hazel eyes spelled out a promise, I thought to myself, of possible further delight later in the evening if my friend played his cards correctly. Doctor Nicholas Blayers himself welcomed us at the door. He was a jolly, fine-looking man of about forty, edging towards plumpness, sallow complexioned and wearing gold-framed spectacles and a jolly smile. 'Good evening, good evening, how nice to see you!' he beamed as we came in. He had met Beth and Esme before when, at the headmistress' invitation, he had travelled down earlier in the year to lecture to the sixth form at Trippett's Academy. I introduced myself and Barry to him and as the girls turned away temporarily to converse with former schoolfriends who had also won places at Somerville College, Doctor Blayers told us: 'I do hope that you all have an enjoyable evening tonight. You would be surprised at the battles we have had to allow women even to study at the University let alone mix together. Why, many of my own colleagues say to me that the presence of women destroys the atmosphere of Oxford.

Only yesterday a certain professor was moaning to me that soon the women will turn round and say: “If we win degrees it is illogical to withhold from us the privileges of the High Table.” I The elevated table in the college dining halls at which the principal professors, etc sit-Editor]. To which my reply, of course, is that it would be so much more pleasant to dine in the company of ladies-and this does shock such old dodderers as the gentleman who spoke in such a way to me.

'I believe in the rules of nature and I would like to see young people grow up untrammelled by the burdens of sexual shame. Any tendency of celebration or joy regarding these matters is frowned upon by Society, yet the most elemental expression is itself the act of sexual congress upon which the very preservation of our species is dependent! It is for this reason that Nature made this union extremely pleasurable. We did not ask it; it is the gift of a beneficent Creator and it is thus quite absurd that we are ashamed of our natural inclinations. Do you not agree with me?'

We murmured our assent as we took glasses of iced champagne from a tray preferred to us by a passing waiter and our host continued to ride his hobbyhorse: 'Let me stress that there must be some strict regulations by Society-for otherwise we would revert to the laws of the jungle. But in my opinion if two consenting young people wish to follow their natural inclinations, then I say jolly good luck to them- especially if they are responsible enough to take proper care not to bring unwanted children into this overcrowded world. 'Enjoy yourselves tonight,' he added as he turned away to welcome some other guests. 'Gosh, what on earth was that all about?' asked Beth, who only heard the latter part of Doctor Blayers' miniature lecture.

'I believe that he wishes to propound a new morality,' I said, sipping a glass of champagne, to which she gravely nodded and said sweetly: 'Is that so? Personally, I thought he was just expounding upon the joys of fucking.' I almost choked on my drink as she gave me a saucy smile and murmured throatily: 'Do you like fucking, Rupert? I love it! There is nothing better in the whole wide world I am sure and you don't have to answer the question really because my cousin has already supplied me with your answer!' 'Your cousin?

Who is that?' 'Why Diana Wigmore, of course! Yes, she wrote to me about you as soon as she knew that we would both be going up to Oxford together this year. Don't blush, Rupert, she only said nice things about you and your sturdy instrument, which since her tuition you now know how to play to good effect! As soon as you told me your name I thought to myself, it must be fate that has brought us together so quickly.' Whilst I digested this not unwelcome information, Beth asked: Tell me about Barry Jacobs-has he any experience in the art of love-making or like most boys of your years is he still virgo intacto?' 'Barry is still untested,' I admitted candidly, but I know he is not totally inexperienced and would give anything to enjoy the full delights of l'amour.' 'Well, he may well be in luck,' declared Beth, 'for my friend Esme is also possessed of a highly active libido, so let me inform her as to the situation and find out if she also wishes to besport herself tonight. In my opinion Esme will relish the idea of initiating Barry into manhood. Look how well they are getting on together. Oh yes, I am almost certain that your chum will be soon able to divest himself of his tiresome state of virginity. 'It would be rather fun to watch these rites of passage,' she added thoughtfully. 'Do you think your friend would mind forking out for rooms at a local hostelry? An acquaintance of mine in her second year here says that the owner of The Cat and Pigeons, one Mr. Thomas Waterbrick, can be trusted to be totally discreet upon payment of a gold sovereign.' 'Barry would gladly take every available room in Mr. Waterbrick's hotel in these circumstances,' I laughed. 'Super, that's settled then-I will have words with Esme and confirm that she will be happy to fall in with our plans.' As Beth had confidently forecast, Esme was more than pleased with our lewd ideas and as for Barry, when I told him how he was about to fuck his first girl, his eyes sparkled and of course he was more than glad to stump up the necessary cash for rooms at The Cat and Pigeons after the party. 'Can we go soon?' he asked eagerly. 'I say old boy, I can't wait to fuck Esme.' 'Steady on, Barry, it would be very rude if we left too early- anyhow, let's get our strength up and tuck into some of that delicious looking food on the buffet table whilst Beth telephones Mr. Water-brick to book our rooms,' I said, though in truth I was also champing at the bit and could hardly wait for the time when I could sweep the soft, willing body of Beth into my arms.

However, the party was most enjoyable and we met some interesting new fellow students as we ate and drank the beautifully prepared refreshments provided. Doctor Blayers was somewhat of a connoisseur of wines and we imbibed perhaps a little too deeply for by the time it was possible to make our farewells, we were all-let us be charitable- quite merry. We hailed a hansom and very soon afterwards found ourselves together in a suite of rooms at The Cat and Pigeons. Beth and I were sitting on the sofa which we had turned round so that we, and Barry and Esme, who when I last actually saw them were sitting on the bed, could enjoy some measure of privacy. Beth and I cuddled up together and she began to arouse me by resting her hand on my penis. Our heads turned towards each other and inexorably our lips moved forwards to meet and we exchanged the most passionate of kisses.

As we embraced she began to massage my prick gently and naturally it responded by swelling up and becoming harder and harder under her touch. Somehow the fact that Barry and Esme were behind us whilst Beth was fiddling with my fly buttons did not inhibit me in the slightest. In fact, to be honest their presence seemed to have the opposite effect and frankly it excited me to think that they might be watching as I took the initiative and unbuttoned Beth's blouse and slid my hand over her rounded bosoms. Now perhaps our exhibition had encouraged them because when she brought my stiff shaft out into the open I heard a gasp behind me and I surmised that Barry and Esme had begun their own sex play. I probed the inside of Beth's mouth with my tongue and slid down the straps of her chemise over her shoulders to expose her proud, jutting breasts. She closed her fingers around my palpitating pillar and began to toss me off with regular stroking motions which sent tiny shivers of pleasure all over my body.

Behind us I could hear that Barry and Esme were already one step ahead as I could distinctly hear the wet, squishy sounds of Esme's pussey being finger-fucked, and her moans of delight stimulated Beth who pulled her dress and petticoat up to her waist, exposing her frilly French knickers. She arched her back to assist me in removing them and she spread her legs as I let my palm smooth its way into her silky pubic thatch. My fingers easily found her moist crack and I slowly stroked the entire length of her slit before dipping my finger into her wet cunney, which sent her wild, and she twisted and turned as I moved first one and then two fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. I turned my head to watch Barry performing the same service for Esme and then Beth pulled down my trousers and drawers and in a flash her head was between my legs as, shaking a lock of blonde hair from her face, she took my shiny uncapped helmet into her mouth. She sucked slowly, tickling and working round the little 'eye' on top of the bulbous dome. Her magic tongue encircled my helmet, savouring its spongy texture and her teeth scraped the tender flesh so deliciously as she drew me in between those luscious lips. She lowered her head to take in more of my shaft and ran her tongue along the side of my throbbing tool which again sent almost unbearable waves of sheer ecstasy coursing through my entire frame. Every time she sensed I was on the verge of spending she would ease her wicked tonguing, thus prolonging our mutual enjoyment which was reaching new, unsealed heights of desire. 'You'll come too quickly if I don't stop for a while,' Beth whispered as she reached round and unfastened the hook of her dress, leaving me to unbutton the garment. She slid gracefully out of it and I drank in the awesome beauty of her glorious naked body.

Her bare breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing and until my dying hour I will never forget the sight of the firm swell of those proud young beauties, perhaps the most perfect I have ever viewed.

They were firm and globular, each looking slightly away from each other and tapering into lovely curves until they came to the rich, crimson points of her taut nipples. I kissed and sucked these pretty, erect titties and she took my stiffstander in her fist for a second time but now she lay back and held my pulsating prick against her warm, white belly. I moved to insert my knob between Beth's inviting cunney lips but instead she pulled my cock forwards into the cleft between those divinely rounded breasts and rubbed my cock between the exquisitely formed globes whilst she cupped my ballsack in one hand and frigged her own pussey with the other. It was impossible to hold back and I spurted my spunk all over her bosoms. She let go of my shaft to rub the hot, sticky cream all over her titties until I had emptied my balls and my staff began to flag, settling down in a semi-erect state, between her breasts. In our frenzy we had taken no notice of what was happening behind us, but now as we were in a more composed state, we looked back to see what stage of the game Barry and Esme had reached. It was immediately apparent that they were not far behind us as both had shed their clothes and Esme was kissing Barry's thick prick which was quivering in anticipation. Her tongue encircled his knob, savouring a blob of pre-spend juice which had already formed there as she drew him in between her generous red lips, sucking lustily. Barry instinctively pushed upwards as her warm hands played with his heavy, hanging balls and her pliant tongue washed over the purple mushroom of his helmet. 'A-h-r-e, A-h-r-e!' he growled softly as Esme took her lips away from his prick and lay back, her legs wide apart to give us all a full view of her curly moss of cunney hair and the pouting pussey lips and delicious red love chink. She took his cock in her hand to press the glowing head between the soft moist cunney lips and I thought to myself, here you go, old boy, your cock is about to enter a cunt for the first time and experience those grand thrills which only a good fuck can induce. But then disaster struck! Poor Barry's prick, which before was as hard as an iron bar, appeared to bend as he frantically rubbed his knob against Esme's juicy cunney lips. Indeed, the harder he rubbed his rod against her sopping slit, the softer it became until it lay as limp as could be in her pussey hair. Beads of perspiration were now evident on his forehead as he cried out in frustration: 'What the hell is happening to my cock? I've waited years for this and now it's letting me down!'

'Calm down, it isn't unusual for a lad about to fuck for the first time to be so nervous that his prick won't stand up,' Beth assured him. 'Look, watch Rupert fuck me and I'll wager you'll be ready to play a tune on your organ in no time at all.' Barry was not to be consoled as in vain he frantically attempted to frig his recalcitrant cock up to its former erection. It won't go up, it just won't go up. Oh Esme, I am so sorry-what you must think of me!' he groaned as he slid his hand up and down his dangling dick. 'You silly boy, you must try not to think about it, and I guarantee that Mother Nature will take its course,' said Esme scathingly. 'And before you say anything more, you have no need to fret about my feelings as I always enjoy watching a good fuck. It makes me very horny too and we'll enjoy ourselves that much more afterwards.' I don't know whether Barry was entirely convinced but naturally I was more than ready to help out my friend by fucking the beautiful Beth, who said: 'Move up you two lovebirds, Rupert and I will join you on the bed and you will both have a grandstand view of his cock entering my cunt.'

We embraced as we rolled together on the bed next to the other pair and as we writhed about in each other's arms my prick began to leap and dance about between her thighs, seeking an entrance in the silky mass of blonde pussey hair which formed a perfect veil over her pouting pussey. I wanted to fuck the sweet girl then and there but I knew that I had to instruct Barry in how to approach a cunt with subtlety. So I disengaged my mouth from Beth's burning kiss and rose up on my knees between her parted legs. My hands roved around her gorgeous breasts and I fingered the engorged, rubbery nipples that stood out like little red soldiers. I heard her gasp with joy as I buried my face in the golden fleece of her pubic bush, inhaling the delicate aroma of her cunt. I grasped her bum cheeks as I flicked my tongue around her crack and she whimpered as her pussey opened like a budding flower and I slipped the tip of my tongue inside her love lips to probe against her stiffening ditty. I licked and lapped as her cunney gushed love juice and her body rocked with unslaked desire.

'Fuck me, Rupert, fuck me,' she moaned and so I scrambled up to kneel between her marble white legs as she reached out and clasped her hand round my swollen shaft. 'I hope you're watching very carefully, Barry,' I said as Beth guided my cock into her dripping love channel. Ah, to hold her creamy buttocks was sheer delight and to suck her erect rosy titties was heaven itself as I slid my cock in and out of her warm, clinging cunney. Our movements became more heated as I thrust forward, sending my prick deep inside her. How I enjoyed this magnificent fuck, sliding my willing cock in and out of her wet and juicy pussey. Beth yelped as she felt my knob touch the innermost walls of her cunt and she wrapped her legs around my waist to hold me firmly inside her as I continued to pound away, my prick driving in and out of the tender folds of her cunney from which her juices were flowing liberally. Then she started to buck to and fro with her bum cheeks lifting themselves off the sheets and I pumped into her back and forth as her body gyrated wildly. I felt her body tremble as she closed her legs around me like a vice.

“Yes… yes… I'm coming… yes, yes, Oooh! Oooh! Ah!' Beth yelled as she shuddered her way to a delicious spend. When she had calmed down I set up another rhythm, fucking her with short, sharp jabs and she spent again as I warned her that my own spend was near.

She massaged the underside of my ballsack and this brought on my final surge as I emptied myself into her, flooding her cunney with tremendous spurts of hot, sticky spunk and she screamed with delight as the gush of my juices sent shock after shock of erotic energy coursing through our veins.

I heaved myself off Beth and we turned ourselves to our right to see that, as we had expected, the sensual spectacle of our fucking had achieved the desired effect and that Barry's battering ram was impatiently pushing its way through Esme's curly forest of cunney hair. However, his inexperience showed as he was unable to find his way through the hirsute veil to her cunt, so I said to him: 'Wait a second, Barry, let me help you,' I inserted my hand between their bellies and told Barry to lift himself up for a moment. Then I took hold of Barry's rock-hard cock and directed the fiery knob towards Esme's pouting pussey lips. 'Now slide your prick forward and you will see that the key will fit into the lock,' I ordered as I took my hand away, and with his first thrust he was within the lips, with the second he was half way home and with the third his entire pulsating shaft was firmly ensconced inside her wet, willing honeypot.

Barry's body trembled with excitement and his tight little arse cheeks quivered. As Beth and I noted with satisfaction, Barry had a natural understanding of what was required of him and he refrained from rashing in and out of Esme's juicy cunney in a mad frenzy but instead forced himself to push in and out as slowly as he could. This was most pleasing to Esme who responded with upward heaves to his downward thrusts. Her bottom rolled violently as she clawed Barry's back and he grasped her shoulders and started to ride her like a cowboy with a bucking bronco. Her legs slid down, her heels dramming against the mattress as she arched her back, working her love channel back and forth against the hot, velvety hardness of Barry's thick, glistening tool. With a hoarse cry of rapture he sheathed his shaft so fully within her that his balls nestled against the top of her thighs. This so affected Esme that she rotated her hips wildly, lifting her lovely bottom to obtain the maximum contact with his cock.

He groaned as Esme's fingernails raked across his back and she panted: 'Oh lovely, that's really lovely, Barry, ah, it's so delicious! Make me come now, you big cocked boy! Shoot your spunk into me!' She threw back her head in abandon and a primordial sound came from deep within her as her climax spilled out and she swam in her sea of voluptuous delight just as Barry shuddered convulsively as he squirted his tribute of frothy white jism into her yearning cunney, on and on until the last faint dribblings oozed out and he sank down upon her in a blissful swoon of unalloyed happiness. My own cock was now standing as straight and erect as before and Beth could see that I was game for another bout, but the unselfish girl turned to her friend and invited her to make use of my pulsating prick. Thank you, my sweet,' said Esme, smiling lasciviously at me. 'My cunt is a little sore from Barry's big cock but I would love to suck this fine-looking cock, if its owner has no objection.' 'None at all, please help yourself,'

I said as I wriggled my way towards her until she could pull my aching shaft towards her rich red lips. She squirmed towards me to leave Barry lying on his own as she took my knob inside her mouth and washed it all over with her tongue, making me shudder all over. She quickened the movements of her tongue, lashing away at my rigid rod as her right hand snaked down and frigged busily away at her still juicy cunt.

Esme's mouth was like a cavern of fire which warmed yet did not burn as she licked and lapped away, stroking her tongue up and down the sensitive underside which made me almost faint away with the pleasure of it all. Then she cupped her hands around my balls, gently rubbing them as she slowly took every inch of my prick into her mouth. She squeezed her free hand around the base of my cock, sucking me harder and harder until I felt the tingling sensation which heralded the nearness of my spend. I shouted that I was going to spunk very soon and the randy girl let my twitching tadger slide out of her mouth.

For a moment I thought this was simply because she did not want to swallow my sperm and would simply finish me off with her hand. But I was wrong for she cried: 'Pump into my cunt!' So I slid myself down her trembling body, ramming my prick into her soaking pussey which was still wet from Barry's and her own juices, but she waggled her bum so artfully that her cunney muscles gripped my cock wonderfully as I drew my chopper out and then darted it in again to engorge this marvellous cunney, which held my thick prick like a soft, moist hand. To be absolutely truthful, as I must in these memoirs, Esme was an even better fuck than Beth for she was expert in the use of her vaginal muscles to contract and relax her cunney, and she somehow managed to tighten her passage so when I slowly drew out my gleaming shaft until only the tip of the purple dome remained embedded inside her, it caused so great a suction that it sent electric shocks of delight fizzlin g through me. I worked away for as long as I could hold back and she spent twice until the sensitive contractions of her clever little love channel milked my cock of a torrent of hot, sticky cream that lubricated her innermost passages. The sight of this sensual show had so stimulated Beth that when I recovered my composure I turned my head to see her lying on her back with her legs apart, her hands provocatively rubbing her blonde muff. 'Go on, Barry Jacobs, what are you waiting for?' cried Esme, pushing him towards the other girl. Their bodies met and Barry slid his hand over her dripping pussey, then he spread open her cunney lips and she purred happily as he rhythmically finger-fucked her. 'Have you ever eaten pussey?'

Esme demanded and Barry looked up and shook his head. 'Watch closely and I'll show you how to do it,' I said and I dove down into Beth's blonde bush, rubbing my face against her silky golden hair.

Barry withdrew his fingers as I worked my tongue along that delicate crack. My mouth was now put to good use as it slid up and down the warm slit and I savoured the tangy taste of drops of love juice which pattered down from her cunney. I heard Beth gasp with pleasure as I probed her love lips and thrust my tongue deep into her cunt, finding her erect clitty and sucking it into my mouth as she moaned with pleasure and brought herself off by rubbing her cunt against my mouth.

Almost of their own volition her legs splayed wider as she sought to open herself still more to me. I slurped lustily, swallowing her salty libation that was flowing freely from her pussey and Beth's hands held my head as her legs, now folded across my shoulders, twitched convulsively with joy as the waves of pleasure from her spend engulfed her. 'Somebody fuck me please,' she called out and my head jerked up from between her thighs as Barry's circumcised cock passed inches away from my face on its way to the slippery entrance which was waiting to welcome it. I could see my friend's whole being was shaking with excitement as the swollen helmet of his rock-hard rod teased Beth's pussey lips before he edged his shaft deep inside her juice-wet love furrow. His hands roved around her jutting breasts, arousing the rosy nipples until they stuck out proudly, as he began to fuck her at first slowly but then increasing the speed of his strokes until his prick was hammering like a piston, his balls beating a tattoo against her backside. Barry showed that he was an ardent cocksman but all too soon he felt himself approach the ultimate pleasure stroke. 'I'm coming! I'm coming! I can't stop!' he shrieked as his body exploded into a climactic release and he shot his hot, creamy froth into Beth's delicious cunt as she writhed beneath him, lifting her shapely bum cheeks to obtain the maximum contact with his raging cock. We were not yet sated, dear reader. As I lay flat on my back, my love truncheon standing as high and straight as a flagpole, Esme struggled up and stood over me, her legs apart like a female Colossus. Her teeth flashed in a lustful smile, her hazel eyes twinkled merrily and then, holding her cunney lips open with her hands, she slowly lowered herself onto me. As she went down on me, my greased shaft slid straight into her at the first attempt and our pubic bones ground together. She paused, like a rider testing a new mount, clamping her cunney muscles around my penis as I flexed myself, heaving myself upwards and delighting in the silky clinginess of her cunt which fitted my cock like a hand-made glove. Esme pumped her tight little bottom up and down, digging her fingernails into my flesh, and each voluptuous shove was accompanied by wails of ecstasy. I pulled her body forward so as I could rub her red titties between my fingers and then I moved my head up to take one of the stiff little strawberries between my lips. She panted away as she bounced up and down on my pulsing prick so violently that I was forced to hold her bum cheeks to keep her in position, helping her in her ride by pushing her up and letting her drop down hard upon my cock. The supreme moment arrived and her cunney clung to my cock even harder as she pulled me in as firmly as she could, squeezing her legs against mine as if fearing that I would leave her. She sighed and squirmed, the lips of her cunt tightly clipping my shaft as we spent profusely together, my jets of sperm spurting up her pussey as her own love juices cascaded down her thighs. Her buttocks quivered in my hands as we drained each other dry until Esme slowed her movements down and came finally to rest. We lay entwined in euphoric peace and she exclaimed in a tone of rapture: 'Oh, that was a truly magnificent fuck, Rupert. I must award your cock full marks for his performance. You know, Beth, it has to be said that boys are adept and considerate lovers. We have chosen our bedmates well tonight.' 'Let me say that the feeling is mutual,'

Barry said, his voice cracking with emotion. I will never forget either of you helping me so patiently to lose my cherry. I count myself most fortunate in making love for the first time with two such understanding girls.' Beth acknowledged the compliment and said: 'Perhaps we should all drink a toast to Dame Agatha Humphrey of St Trippett's Academy for The Daughters of Gentlefolk. Unlike the vast majority of schools, we were given guidance on sexual matters.'

'Yes, I can remember telling Dame Agatha without any embarrassment of my first sensual stirrings,' Esme chipped in brightly. I had been waking up in the night and finding myself shivering with excitement, with my nightdress damp from a thin fluid which had trickled down my thighs from my then lightly haired pussey.

Now I knew from other girls who I had seen giggling over the pages of that rude magazine The Oyster that boys entering puberty have nocturnal emissions but I never knew that girls could have wet dreams.

'Golly, I was so worried and confused but in the end I plucked up courage and asked Dame Agatha about what was happening to my body and she told me how entirely normal these nightly emissions were and how my body was preparing itself for sexual congress.' 'Not that we were totally innocent about sex by the time we had the first hairs growing around our pussies,' said Beth brightly. 'Did you play games in the dormitories like we used to do?' I asked her. 'Of course, although we made ourselves follow to the letter some strict regulations about such matters,' she rejoined, passing a glass of wine to me. 'Perhaps the most charming rule concerned the bathrooms in the evenings as we prepared ourselves for bed. Naturally, shut up as we were with little chance of contact with the opposite sex, passions and crushes freely abounded. Many a swift hip-to-hip rub was exchanged as a signal that greater intimacies might be enjoyed in the near future.

But to counter the shame and embarrassment of rejection we all accepted the convention that if the girl you fancied was bending over a washbasin having her before lights-out wash, it was totally permissible to approach her from behind and to touch and stroke her-mark you, without a word being uttered. If she did not check these advances it was permissible to reach under her nightie and clasp the swelling cheeks of her bum. Then, so long as she continued to show no objection, one might rub one's pussey against her bottom and then reach round and play with her hairy bush, though more than a little diddling was frowned upon as it might upset other would-be suitors. A caress of one's cunney held the promise of fun and games between the sheets later that night.' 'But wasn't it rather difficult for anyone to repel such an advance?' enquired Barry. 'Not really, for one could easily reach back with one's hand and remove the persistent hand. There are many subtle ways by which one can quietly yet firmly refuse unwelcome attentions and I think that Esme will agree that women are far more skilled than men in expressing themselves in this unspoken language.' Esme nodded her head in agreement. It was also so nice to be able to use this very delicate way of accepting a loving, exploratory caress. My goodness, when I think back how many times whilst splashing water over my face I sensed a warm presence behind me and felt the soft touch of an unknown hand running up and down my back and sliding under my nightie to squeeze my bottom. It was such fun to close your eyes, cradling your head on your arms against the cold rim of the wash-basin, nestling against the unseen girl whose hands would reach round and cup your breasts in her palms, rubbing up the titties until they rose up to greet her.

'Yes, and how stimulating it could be to feel a quiver of delight run through the body of the girl you were stroking, to look in the mirror and see her blush as she shyly raised her bum to show that she welcomed your attention. Then would come the magic moment when you raised the nightdress over the hips and the white orbs of her bottom were exposed to be cupped, caressed or even lightly slapped. And ah, the delight if afterwards she welcomed the insertion of your finger into the dampness of her cunney, wriggling so sweetly as you prised open the yielding love lips. 'Beth and I often used this stratagem before starting to play games in bed, though perhaps we should not mention such sport to you,' added Esme with a saucy look.

'Oh, please go on, Esme, don't be a tease,' begged Barry. 'Rupert and I would really love to hear all about what you got up to together, wouldn't we, old chap?' Before I could answer (in the affirmative, of course!), Beth interrupted and said: 'All right, we'll tell you all but you must confess your early experiences to us afterwards.' This was a fair enough exchange so we agreed and settled down to listen to Esme, but she had little to say except that 'actions spoke louder than words' and so she and Beth would demonstrate what they often did, cuddled together in bed at St Trippett's, and this proved to be so exciting that Barry and I never got round to fulfilling our side of the bargain! Barry and I settled down to watch as the two girls entwined their arms lasciviously around each other. I looked again at Beth and how magnificent her breasts looked, rounded like two snowy white balloons topped with two cute, rosy nipples. She squeezed her legs tightly together and her right hand went down to snake its path through the golden silk of her blonde mound. She started to rub it gently with the palm of her hand and to move her backside slowly, lazily dipping her fingertip into her itching cunney. Esme now knelt beside her, stroking and fondling Beth's nipples as she removed the blonde girl's hand and replaced it with her own, inserting two fingers into her sticky pussey, jerking them in and out, whilst her thumb brushed over the erect ditty which protruded between Beth's cunney lips. This was but the hors d'oeuvre to the main course of a girls-only fuck because she rolled herself on top of Beth, taking care that her hand did not lose contact with the juicy love nest which was becoming more moist by the minute. Her apt fingers toyed with Beth's erect ditty as Esme breathed: 'What a gorgeous wet cunt you have, darling. Can you feel my fingers dipping in and out of your honeypot? Does that feel good-or would you prefer a big fat cock like Rupert's piercing you through and through?' Beth moaned an inaudible reply as Esme now kissed the damp yellow pussey hair around the cunney lips and her pretty pointed tongue licked lewdly along Beth's crack. She soon found her ditty, fully swollen as she sucked the little button, letting the very tip of her long tongue go around it in tiny circles. Barry and I craned our heads forward to watch her teeth nibble all along the glorious love slit, her pink tongue teasing Beth's tasty pussey with rasping licks.

'Oh! Oh!' Beth gasped, her eyes dosed in heavenly bliss and she took hold of Esme's tousled head in her hands. 'Oh, you tongue me so divinely, darling.' Her soft limbs quivered as Esme pressed her face even harder against Beth's cunney lips so that her tongue could delve even deeper and she lapped around the innermost walls of the orifice.

Beth writhed around in frenzied momentum as Esme's tongue, now glued to her cunney lips, worked sensuously inside the hole to be rewarded by a sustained flow of pungent love juice which she swallowed as Beth worked herself off with wild, rising cries of joy. Now it was Beth's turn to be the gentleman and she rolled off the bed and padded across to the table on which stood the tray of refreshments we had ordered. She brought back an empty bottle of champagne with her and then she took out a small jar of cold cream from her handbag. Barry and I looked on curiously as she turned Esme gently on to her side.

Beth's ideas for pleasuring the other girl soon became apparent as she rubbed the cream in and around Esme's wrinkled little bum hole, and the auburn-haired beauty wriggled deliriously, her smooth white globes jiggling as Beth lubricated her rear dimple. Then Beth took the champagne bottle and with great care slid the neck, which was as thick as my prick, into Esme's behind. The girl gave a cry of alarm but then her pretty face relaxed, the hazel eyes wide and appealing as Beth now began work in earnest. With one hand she manipulated Esme's sensitive cunney lips and ditty and with the other she moved the neck of the bottle back and forth gently in and out of Esme's anus. 'Aaaah!

Aaaah! Aaaah!' she cried out as Beth continued this inexorable masturbation. 'Oh Beth, you are a naughty girl to fuck my cunney and bum at the same time. All I need is a thick cock in my mouth and I will be filled to the brim. Where are you, Barry, I need you!'

This was all he had to hear-for like me, Barry's prick was now standing high against his belly and he shuffled forward, his prick in his hand, and to his delight Esme grabbed hold of it and her mouth opened greedily over his knob as she took it between her Lips, slurping lustily on the shaft, sending him into paroxyms of delight. I could no longer stand idly by and I crawled round behind Beth and parted her peach bottom cheeks and inserted two or three inches of my bursting prick into her damp cunt from behind. She turned her head so that our lips could meet and she drew my tongue into her mouth as she cleverly wriggled her bum so that I could embed my entire eight and a half inches of cock inside her. With a passionate jolt of our loins my shaft was fully inserted and she cried out in glee as I started to fuck her and our hips began to work away in unison. How tightly her dripping cunt enclasped my cock and we gloried with each tremendous thrust as her juices dripped upon my balls as they slapped against her arse. She threw back her head in ecstasy, tossing her blonde mane over her shoulders as she urged me to drive even deeper and with her firm bottom cheeks cupped in my broad palms, she writhed savagely whilst my sinewy shaft rammed its passage in and out of her soaking slit. I could feel the throbbing of Beth's excited pussey increase to boiling point as she screamed out her climax so loudly that I feared we might disturb other guests in the hotel. Her shuddering cries soon led to my twitching cock ejaculating great gushes of jism inside her cunney just as her orgasm was dying down, giving the sensual lady the pleasure of a second spend which arose from the sensation of my spunk hurtling into her love channel. Now Barry could contain himself no longer and he thrust his hips forward and his sperm spurted into Esme's waiting throat. She tried hard to swallow all of the creamy emission but he shot such a torrent between her lips that some of the fluid dripped down her chin and onto her breasts. This led to Beth increasing the speed of her finger-fucking of Esme's pussey and together with continued insertion of the champagne bottle up her bum soon brought off the sweet girl to a magnificent orgasm. This last 'whoresome foursome', as my first lovely partner-in-fucking Diana Wigmore was wont to call such jousts, completely exhausted us and we all fell fast asleep under the warm eiderdown Beth and I pulled across the bed. Our tangled limbs rested in comfort until the grey dawn of morning woke me from my slumber. The others still lay deep in the arms of Morpheus when as quietly as possible, I slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom to make my ablutions. Ah, what sweet recollections this memoir brings back to me, of how Beth, Esme and Barry lay naked on crushed and rumpled sheets whilst I watched the weak autumn sunlight caress the dreaming spires as the town woke up to another day. I looked out at the early risers walking down the street and I idly wondered how many of them had enjoyed as good a fucking (if at all) as Barry and I. An attractive dark-haired girl in jodhpurs strode towards the Bodleian Library and two or three male passers-by turned their heads to stare after her. I pondered as to what private thoughts were passing through her mind and those of her unknown secret admirers. What ideas were spinning around those people, hiding behind bland, expressionless faces, what lovers, real and imaginary were being wooed in their minds, what triumphs and failures-were being lived and relived in their daydreams? Take this girl who turned heads on this October morning, for instance; what were the thoughts of the young butcher's boy who was so entranced by the fetching swell of the girl's buttocks tightly encased in the riding breeches which clung so lovingly to her figure, that he pulled his bicycle over to the kerb so he could gaze at the girl's delicious backside for a few moments more? Perhaps he was thinking of how he would like to see her peel off her clinging jodhpurs and expose her naked charms or maybe how she might caress his erect cock or even be persuaded to take his knob in her mouth? It is this gap between reality and fantasy, between what is and what might be or might have been which has for me been an endless source of fascination. Will the fucking of a particular girl turn out to be an anticlimax? Will the reality be but a pale imitation of the untrammelled adventures of the mind? Fantasy should not be discouraged for it represents perhaps the only time when one can be certain of taking the lead role in delicious daydreams in which one can become famous for whatever one wishes. All grievances can be righted, all one's actions will be applauded and, of course, a variety of the most gorgeous women in the entire world will be conquered almost without effort! Curmudgeonly critics may carp at fantasizing as a fruitless exercise-but surely the only harm in pursuing this occupation is when one finds it difficult to leave cloud-cuckoo land for the harsher world of reality upon which we have so little chance to influence the way events great and small unfold around us. The rays of the sun roused me from this reverie and I turned back to see that my companions were still asleep. But Beth lay on her back, her nude charms half uncovered by the bed-clothes which sent my prick rearing up to a fine hard stiffness. I gently climbed between her open legs and kissed her blonde furry pussey. Then I spread the pouting cunney lips with one hand and taking hold of my cock with the other, I lowered my uncapped helmet until it touched her pouting cunney lips. I managed to insinuate my knob inside her cunt without waking her. She made a few uneasy movements as I slowly withdrew my blue-veined pole but Beth slept on as this time I engulfed my staff fully into her love channel, overcome as she was by the fatigues of fucking the previous night. I would have liked to continue this delicate fuck but alas, tempus fugit, and I had to leave shortly to attend a lecture in political philosophy. So I was forced to begin heaving and bucking in earnest and this woke the pretty girl, who fondly kissed me, and we engaged in a wonderful contest, each striving to be first in climbing the mountain to the highest peak of pleasure.

My thrusts forward were met with her impetuous heaves upwards and as my shaft slid to the hairs inside her honeypot my balls knocked against Beth's thighs and the delicious wriggles of her splendid bottom soon roused me to an erotic fury. Our frenzied fucking woke Barry and Esme and they immediately copied our example. It was so arousing to see Esme's beautiful cleft in its hairy auburn grotto with the large white shaft of Barry's weapon appearing and disappearing through the luxuriant curly thatch of pussey hair as he drove his cock in and out of the open, rosy chink. Our frantic heaves and shoves were received and returned by our lusty partners with a gradually increasing intensity until we all four spent near enough simultaneously, swimming in a sea of lubricity as we melted away in a glorious excess of sensual rapture. We lay there for a while longer but then it was time to wash and dress and we ate a hearty breakfast. Barry paid the bill and we made arrangements to meet the girls again in a few days' time. 'Will you get into trouble for staying out all night?' I asked, much concerned that this escapade would have no serious consequences for the two lovely ladies.

'No, Mr. Holland the porter is very obliging and a half sovereign will buy his silence,' said Esme with a giggle as we exchanged fond kisses of farewell. 'How do you boys plan to get back into your rooms?' Barry explained that we hoped to enter our college through a secret back entrance our maidservant Nancy had shown us (we didn't venture any further information about the other services Nancy provided for her scholars!) and we waved goodbye as we walked through town. By taking the seldom-used side stairs that Nancy had pointed out, we managed to sneak into our college unnoticed and I hastily changed and ran down the stairs to the lecture hall just in time to take my place before our senior lecturer. Professor Simon 'Beaver' Webb, entered the room. He was a large, indeed somewhat corpulent gentleman with twinkling blue eyes and a luxuriant red beard which doubtless accounted for his admittedly vulgar nickname. An ardent supporter of the suffragettes, his radical views were hardly hidden in his dissertation on the so-called 'wild women' who were determined to change the country's social structure. But frankly, I was so tired after all the exertions of the previous night that my eyes fluttered shut more than once whilst the Professor gave us his views on why women should be allowed to vote. However, he became quite steamed up at the end of his lecture and I woke up with a start as he thundered: 'We must allow for the fact that there is no reason to suppose that in any respect women will show themselves superior in sagacity. Blunders will undoubtedly result occasionally from the new freedom when it finally arrives-and I say “when” and not “if” advisedly for the river of social progress can only be stemmed, it can never be rolled back. And if the new movement has no other effect than to rouse women to rebellion against the madness of producing large families, it would confer a priceless blessing on themselves and upon humanity!' A burst of applause came from a small group of girls from Girton College, Cambridge who had been specially invited with other students from London and Edinburgh to attend a special three day seminar presided over by Professor Webb on The Emancipation Of Women'.

Not all the undergraduates agreed with the Professor's sentiments however, and a few ill-mannered boors had the temerity to hiss as Professor Webb gathered up his papers. At first I thought the Professor was going to ignore the jeers but he changed his mind as he reached the door and he suddenly whirled round and accosted Lord Blaxonberry who had led the dissenters. 'So you and your friends do not approve of votes for women,' he snapped angrily. 'Perhaps you do not approve of votes for men either.' 'Not particularly,' the wealthy young landowner coolly replied. 'I would have to agree with you that the prevailing democratic tendency is the prevailing fashionable theory. The idea of government by the absolute majority has superseded the thought that government should be conducted for the benefit of all by the enlightened and capable-the genuine aristocracy in the strict sense of the word-who have been born and bred to such a task. 'In my view. Professor, the only benefit of granting women the franchise might be to show the innate fallacies inherent in the pernicious democratic doctrine and weaken the belief in the wisdom of purely popular government.' 'Stuff and nonsense!' called out a very pretty girl from just a few seats away from me. I would rather be governed by a council of working men who know at first hand the needs of the great majority of our citizens than a gathering of chinless drones who know nothing except how to idle away their days whilst the rest of their fellow countrymen engage in back-breaking toil.'

'Hear, hear! Well said!' I cried out loudly, and this interjection brought me a friendly smile from the speaker and a disdainful look of utter contempt from Lord Blaxonberry.

Professor Webb stroked his luxuriant red beard and said: 'Carry on, sir. What would you add to this discussion?' I thought carefully before rising to reply. I would just wish to add this thought, sir,' I said, trying as hard as possible to prevent my knees from shaking, as public speaking has always filled me with dread and was one of the major reasons why I recently refused the kind offer of Mr. Lloyd George to stand as the Liberal parliamentary candidate in the safe seat of West Gloucestershire during the recent General Election. There is no sadder sight in the world than that of a wasted life, yet how wantonly Society condemns to waste the lives of thousands upon thousands of bright, intelligent young women all over Britain whose powers are worn down and diminished by long courses of boring trivialities and mental stagnation.' Though I stand in danger of being labelled a braggart, I can truthfully record that my words were cheered to the echo, not least by the attractive girl whose own speech had sparked off my contribution. Professor Webb brought the discussion to a close and enjoined us to read a variety of books on female emancipation-both for and against -and told us to write essays upon the subject that he wanted handed in to him in three weeks' time.

As we left the lecture hall, I smiled back at the girl whose cause I had supported and she made her way round to my desk and introduced herself. 'My name is Gillian Headleigh from Girton College, Cambridge and I'm the secretary of the college branch of the Cambridge Society For Women's Rights,' she said, holding out her hand. Thank you very much for supporting me against Lord Blaxonberry and his little coterie of silly young reactionary idiots.' 'I'm Rupert Mountjoy and I'm studying here at Balliol,' I said, shaking her preferred hand.

The authorities here are usually so stuffy about male and female undergraduates mixing together that I'm surprised you managed to obtain a pass to listen to Professor Webb's lecture.' She laughed and though we were talking of serious matters I could not help but be diverted by her mop of bright curls that set off her tiny, slightly retrousse nose and large cornflower-blue eyes which sparkled with promise. Her slim, lithe body was delightfully shown off by a close-fitting grey costume in the modern style, which accentuated the swell of her small but gorgeously rounded breasts that jutted proudly forward like two soft peaches ripe for my mouth… 'Doctor Blayers arranged it for a group of us to come over to Oxford and attend a number of lectures as part of our PPE course. There are many excellent scholars at Cambridge but it is generally agreed that Professor Webb is the most important figure in the drive towards social progress.' 'What a coincidence,' I exclaimed. I was at a party given by Doctor Blayers last night.' 'Yes, I was there too and I saw you talking to a pretty blonde girl,' she said with a little smile which showed two delicious dimples on either side of her lovely red lips. 'Would you like to take morning coffee with me?' I asked hurriedly, for I had no desire to let the conversation drift down this particular avenue! Gillian agreed and fortunately I had no further lectures until mid-afternoon so after coffee I was able to walk down with her to her lodgings in Pusey Street, just off the Woodstock Road. We chatted in animated fashion and by the time we reached the house in which Gillian and three other girls were staying for the week, almost to my surprise, I noticed that we were holding hands. 'I have some reading to catch up on,' she said, 'but you're welcome to join me if you are free,' I accepted this invitation with alacrity for the sun had come out and the weather was warm enough to sit outside, which I thought would be especially pleasant as the other girls were studying elsewhere and so we had the house to ourselves. I pulled out a rug and two deckchairs from the garden shed but Gillian sat herself down on the rug and of course I followed suit.

At first we both attempted to read but when I put my book down and took the trembling girl in my arms she did not push me away but giggled delightfully and brought her face up to be kissed. Our mouths met and in an instant her tongue was filling my mouth, probing, lapping and caressing, which made my prick swell up to its full height. My fingers found their way to the buttons of her blouse and I undid enough of them to allow me to slip my hand inside and squeeze the succulent spheres of her breasts, feeling the hardening nipples push against my palm. My excited prick was now threatening to burst its way out from the confines of my trousers but she slid her hands down to the bulge in my lap and quickly unbuttoned my flies as I wrenched off my belt. She drew out my swollen chopper and held it tightly in her hand as it stood up stiffly, twitching slightly as she worked her hand slowly up and down the throbbing shaft. Our mouths were still glued together as I slipped my hand under her skirt but immediately she pulled my arm down and muttered throatily: 'You naughty boy, Rupert! I haven't quite finished my monthly so we can't consummate our friendship this morning. But I do fancy sucking your delicious-looking cock.' We rolled about on the rug as I helped Gillian pull down my trousers and drawers and then she sat on my legs, her hands clasping my stiffstander as she bent her head down to kiss the rubicund bare knob. I closed my eyes and groaned with delight as she washed her tongue all around my helmet, nibbling at it with her teeth before gently easing my pulsating prick into her mouth, sucking furiously as instinctively I put up my hands to cup her breasts which swung invitingly before me. Then she placed a hand on my ballsack which sent wave upon wave of exquisite pleasure crashing through my body. I thrust my cock forward and pressed the crown further inside the warm wetness of her mouth. She was happy to engulf my shaft, sheathing it between her lips and licking and lapping my prick with gay abandon. No man's penis could resist such a cleverly wicked stimulation and I whispered hoarsely that I would be unable to hold back my spend for much longer. I always let this be known for there are girls, admittedly few in number, who enjoy sucking cocks but do not wish to swallow the spunk. I still find this difficult to understand for it can do them no harm whatsoever, but naturally their wishes must always be respected. But as Gillian said later when I mentioned this to her, she adored the taste of sperm and now she nodded as she squeezed my balls through their hairy wrinkled skin and with an immense shudder I expelled my creamy jism which hurtled into her mouth and which she swallowed with evident enjoyment. She sucked my cock with great skill, coaxing out every last drop of jism from my prick until I had been milked dry and she lifted her head with a sigh, smacking her lips in satisfaction. 'Rupert, your spunk has a gratifying tang. Perhaps we could meet at this time tomorrow when I shall be fully ready for you and you may fuck me for as long as you can keep your cock stiff!'

'I look forward to it,' I declared, smiling my approval as we lay motionless, recovering our senses as the autumn breeze cooled our heated bodies. She gave my prick a final friendly rub before I stood up and put my clothes back on. 'Wild horses would not keep me away from you.'

After supper I went to Frank's room where he, Barry and another friend, Leonard Letchmore were gossiping about the events of the previous night. 'I'm sorry in a way that I didn't take up my invitation to Doctor Blayers' party after all,' said Frank. 'Still, I did fuck Nancy and I'm pleased for Barry that he finally got his end away, as the vulgar colloquialism has it.' 'It was good of you, Frank, and I will never forget your kindness- nor that of Rupert, Beth and Esme,' said Barry with some emotion. 'Oh, Rupert, I almost forgot to tell you, the girls sent round a note insisting that they make dinner for us when we see them again. They have suggested next Tuesday which is fine with me. Is it convenient for you? Good, I'll write back tomorrow morning. God, aren't they two smashing girls. I'm so lucky to have met them.' 'Don't get too carried away,' advised Leonard as he poured out glasses of port for us. 'First love can often be idyllic and you were well served. But there are plenty more fish in the sea to be landed, old chap, and as my uncle Sir Jonathan always says, keep playing the sport until you find the special girl with whom you want to stay with for the rest of your life.' 'What, and never fuck any other girl again?' said Frank ironically. 'Supposedly not, though in my uncle's case that practice has certainly never been put into effect! Mind, he's a rogue of the first order though jolly useful as far as I was concerned. I'll wager that few chaps received such a sixteenth birthday present as I was given by Uncle Jonathan.'

'This sounds interesting-tell us more,' I said, settling down in an armchair. 'Well, my birthday is in July and I had just come down from Eton. Actually, my birthday was on the very day I came home and to be honest I was rather miffed to discover that every single one of my relatives and friends, with the sole exception of Uncle Jonathan, had remembered the day and sent me cards and presents. I was especially mortified as he had been perhaps the closest of my many uncles and aunts. But then later that evening I received a hand-delivered letter marked “Strictly Private” and which was delivered to me in great secrecy by our butler, Conway, when my parents were elsewhere in the house, as Uncle Jonathan had previously instructed him. It read:

Dear Leonard, I haven't forgotten your birthday although it might have so appeared to you. Now you know my flat in Albemarle Street off Piccadilly? We met there in Spring before we went to the theatre with Aunt Anita and your cousins. Be there sharp at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon and you'll have your present. But whatever you do, don't tell your parents about this or it will spoil the surprise. Your affectionate uncle, Jonathan Letchmore 'What was I to make of this note? Naturally, I obeyed his instruction and told my parents the next day that I fancied a brisk constitutional in Green Park. We live in Belgravia so I hailed a cab to take me to Uncle Jonathan's pied a terre, which he kept partly as a spare apartment for visitors from abroad as Aunt Anita hails from the United States and partly (as I thought in my naivete) for certain business purposes. As we circumnavigated the hazards of Hyde Park Corner, I racked my brains wondering as to what birthday present Uncle Jonathan had in mind and why it could not be delivered like all the others. 'Despite the usual heavy traffic I arrived there just before the appointed hour and the porter recognised me as he swung open the front door. “Good afternoon, sir, your uncle told me to expect you. He'll be with you later but you're to go right on up and wait for him, if you don't mind.” So I took the lift up to the fourth floor and saw to my surprise that the door of Uncle Jonathan's apartment was slightly ajar. This is becoming curiouser by the minute, I said to myself as I pushed it open. There seemed to be no-one else there and one look sufficed to tell me that there had been no burglary. I stood by the sideboard in the lounge and was about to pour myself a sherry when the door from the bedroom opened. Had the flat been visited by robbers after all? I gripped the decanter in my hand, ready to wield it as a weapon.' He paused dramatically and Frank asked excitedly. 'Go on, Len, who on earth was it? A sneak thief who had managed to climb in from the fire escape?' 'A jolly good guess, Frank, but no, nothing like that-the unexpected visitor had been invited by Uncle Jonathan and she immediately apologised for startling me.' It was a woman, then-a friend of your uncle no doubt, who the porter had let in before you,' suggested Barry Jacobs.

Leonard beamed and continued: 'You're getting closer to the mark now. Yes, the porter had let her up to the flat on my uncle's specific instruction. She told me that her name was Fiona but I hardly heard her sweet voice as I gazed upon the pert mass of dark curly hair which had popped round the door. Then a tiny hand brushed the hair away and I could see the most exquisitely beautiful girl framed in the doorway, as pretty as a picture with a face that was somehow disembodied as she smiled, showing pearly white teeth which sparkled in the sunlight that poured through the windows. She came in and shut the door behind her and when I saw her figure, dressed in a loose cotton white dress that was as good as transparent in the bright rays of the sun, I noticed that she was barefoot-and in the back of my mind I somehow thought that I had somewhere before seen this heavenly apparition. “Hello Leonard, we've never been introduced but I know who you are-and we're not total strangers as you saw me when your uncle took you to the theatre last April,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “Ah, were you about to pour yourself a sherry? I think I'll join you if I may.” 'Of course! This sweet girl was on the stage of the Alhambra and to her delight I remembered her name and the song she sang so delightfully in the musical show Berkeley Close. “You're Fiona Forster and you sang Love In The Park,” I said with a great effort of memory and she clapped her hands in glee. “Oh Leonard, how clever of you to remember the song. Did you enjoy the show? It's just finished its run after almost ten months at the Alhambra.” '“Very much so, and I remember how well you sang and how pretty you looked on stage,” I said, blushing to the roots of my hair. She squealed happily at this compliment. “Oh I can see for sure that you are your uncle's nephew.

What a nice compliment and I'm so pleased you could come round to the flat this afternoon. '“I know why you're here as well. You've come to collect your birthday present,” she added roguishly. I looked at her in astonishment and in all innocence asked: “How on earth did you know that?” '“Goodness me, you silly boy, don't you know? I'm your birthday present!” she said happily and in one quick movement she raised her dress over her head and for the very first time in my life I looked in awe at the sensuous beauty of the naked body of a pretty girl. I could hardly believe my eyes as she smoothed her hands over the creamy spheres of her firm breasts. I was rooted to the spot as she pirouetted gaily about the furniture, flaunting her tight rounded bum cheeks and the curly mass of hair which sprouted in a thick triangle at the base of her flat, white belly. Then she stood still in front of me and held out her hand. “Come on, Leonard, don't be shy. Come into the bedroom and take off your clothes.” I still could not believe what was happening-as if in a dream I followed Fiona into the bedroom and she sat me down on a chair and bent down to unlace my shoes. My heart was pounding,” I could feel the perspiration on my forehead but I slowly regained control though surprisingly, even though this delicious nude beauty was peeling off my socks, my prick remained obstinately limp and the thought crossed through my mind that I wouldn't be able to get it up, even though this problem had never occurred during our circle jerks at school or when I had read the copy of The Temptations Of Cremorne in the Geography master's study! '“Didn't naughty Uncle Jonathan even give you a hint of what your present was going to be?” she cooed as she helped me unbutton my shirt. I shook my head and she giggled as she loosened my trousers. In a trice I was naked save for my undershorts. She made me stand up and on her knees slowly pulled down my pants. Perhaps not surprisingly I now felt curiously vulnerable for I was so overcome by a mixture of lust for this gorgeous girl and concern that she might laugh at my fumbling efforts to fuck her that my prick dangled uselessly between my legs. 'But Fiona was wise beyond her years and she whispered: “Don't be nervous, Leonard, it's always a little difficult beginning the race but you'll run well enough once you reach the starting line.”

Slowly at first, she gently stroked my cock and peeled back the foreskin to expose the domed mushroom of my bell-end. This instantly produced the desired effect and as my truncheon stiffened she allowed her fingers to trace a path around and underneath my balls which made my whole body tingle with gratification. After a while she closed her fist around the burgeoning shaft, sliding her fingers along its length until my prick stood up proudly at full erection. “There, that's a lovely thick tool for such a young boy. It looks good enough to eat,” she said admiringly and I trembled with joy as, still on her knees, she opened her lips and her pink tongue shot out to lick my shaft from base to tip. I clung to her tousled head as she now kissed my rampant chopper, letting the tip of her tongue flick out to tease my bare knob. Then she opened her mouth wide and encircled my cock with her lips before jamming the throbbing tool inside its heavenly wetness.

Her head bobbed down and like a serpent her tongue slid round and round my rod, rolling it cunningly across the swollen knob, and I could feel the playful bite of her pearly teeth as she nipped the sensitive skin of the underside. 'My prick swelled to bursting point and very quickly I spurted a creamy emission into her luscious mouth. She eagerly swallowed every drop of spunk and perhaps because I had spent so quickly my prick was still ramrod stiff as I slowly withdrew it from her lips. The dear girl planted a series of butterfly kisses on my glistening helmet and heaved herself to her feet “Now for your next lesson,” she murmured as she gripped my prick in her hand and led me to the bed. She threw herself down upon it and drew me upon her. I looked down at her exquisite nude body, her slender long legs, her uptilted pointed breasts with the flat belly below which her curly haired pussey glinted in the warm sunshine. I may have lacked any previous experience but Nature told me to take her in my arms and with my mouth on hers I lovingly caressed Fiona's smooth thighs and then raised my hands to rub my fingers against her raised raspberry nipples. But my kind mistress was not yet finished teaching me the refinements of l'arte de faire L'amour. “Eat my pussey, Leonard, don't be shy. I adore having my cunney licked out,” she panted, pushing my shoulders down with her hands. Again, I had read about this practice in The Oyster la spectacularly rude underground magazine-Editor] but had never had the chance even to attempt it before. In fact the nearest I had ever come along this path was to French kiss Joanna the parlourmaid and squeeze her breasts through her domes whilst she rubbed my cock against my flannels. 'Yet by now I had lost much of my nervousness and I prised her legs apart and buried my face between her unresisting thighs. I sniffed her delicate feminine aroma and let my tongue lap freely around the moist curly hair around her cunney lips. She pressed my head forward with her hands and lifted her bottom off the bed, forcing my nose against her cunney. I moved my head slightly upwards and as my hands slipped under her quivering body to clasp her bum cheeks, I slipped my tongue through the pink love lips and licked between the inner grooves of her cunt which was now starting to gush love juice. I tasted her fragrant sweetness, rousing her to new peaks of delight, and I sucked deeply on the pouting cleft that rubbed up and down on my mouth as I tongued her erect, rubbery ditty. Her hands now ran wildly through my hair, pressing on my temples as if to direct this onslaught. She exploded as I continued licking and lapping, swallowing her salty fluids as her hips and bottom moved in synchronised rhythm with my mouth. My face rubbed against her curly bush as she screamed again with delight and, heaving violently, Fiona managed to achieve a second spend before pushing my face away from her juicy crack. '“Fuck me, Leonard! Oh, you must fuck me now!” she gasped as she drew me up until my hue was level with hers. Then, throwing her arms around my neck, she drew my lips to hers as she thrust her wicked tongue into my mouth with all the wild abandon of love, shoving her backside upwards to meet my charge. But I was so excited at the thought that I was about to fuck my first girl that I could not find the entrance to her cunney! I jabbed my hips backwards and forwards, moaning with frustration as I failed to sink my shaft into the eagerly moistened channel that awaited it. Fiona opened her legs wider to make it easier for me. She placed her hand around my raging cock and directed it towards the waiting gap. I sighed as I felt the first thrilling sensation as it eased between the puffy outer lips of her cunt This was all the help I required and like an iron bolt my prick battered through the cunney flesh, separating the folds of sticky skin and fucking deeper and deeper as my throbbing tool plunged into her, stretching the resilient love channel to its utmost. She spread her legs and bent her knees so that her heels rested upon the small of my back. I pressed home slowly and I marvelled at the wonderful sensations produced on my swollen staff by her tight little cunney. I began to find a rhythm and fucked her with long, simple strokes, glorying in the electric tingle that spread up and down my spine as I slowly withdrew my glistening pole before plunging it right back in. If I may say so without seeming smug, we both enjoyed my first fuck, for Fiona was an excellent teacher, slowing me down and then urging me to quicken the pace as her juices lubricated her cunney walls, making my shaft squelch merrily in and out of her honeypot. She twined her legs about my waist and asked me to put my hands under her hips as I pushed forward and buried the entire length of my cock in her hungry snatch. As I did so she began to rub her ditty hard against my rigid rod and her soft moans turned to a rising scream as she urged me on. “A-h-r-e! You dear boy, push on! Come now, Leonard, empty your balls!” she cried out and I began to pump wildly, feeling my ballsack smack against her bottom as together we scaled the heights of ecstasy. I crashed huge shoots of love cream into her sopping cunney and this brought down her flow of pussey juice, which flooded her luscious nest, and our fluids oozed down in a trickle across her thighs. 'We lay panting as I slowly withdrew my glistening cock which was still almost as stiff as before it first entered her glorious quim. When we had recovered our senses she began to fondle my cock and her hand moved rhythmically up and down my stiffening shaft between her long fingers. As my prick hardened I felt myself being pushed upon my back and Fiona said: “There are other ways to enjoy fucking, Leonard. I particularly like being on top because it allows my ditty to be rubbed by the tip of the cock but some men, rather foolishly to my way of flunking, find it demeaning in some way to be beneath a female during love-making. Mind, these are the rough kind of fellows I would never let get in between my legs. Still, that's another story. Let me show you what I mean about the girl-on-top position.” 'She climbed up on top of me, bending forward to kiss my lips as I cupped those voluptuous breasts in my hands, feeling the hard little titties against my palms. Her oily cunney lips were just touching the very tip of my helmet, which made my staff tremble with anticipation. When she moved her hips so that her cunney lips slid over my knob, I thrilled in the clinging wetness as she lowered herself gently until almost all of my throbbing length was inside her. “There, isn't that nice?” she asked, and I gasped back how perfectly splendid it was as she raised herself up and then suddenly plumped herself down hard, impaling herself on my cock which revelled in its surround of warm, wet cunney flesh. flow she squealed as she moved her body up and down, using her thighs to ride me, bobbing herself up and down so that her breasts jounced up and down as I met her downward thrusts with jerks of my hips upwards. I panted heavily with this exertion as Fiona heaved herself up and down on my twitching tool, taking every last inch of me deep into her hairy pit, and the continuous nipping and contractions of her clever pussey soon brought me to a rip-roaring spend. At first I tried to hold back but I could not deny the boiling spunk that was racing up from my balls and I sent a tremendous jet of jism up into her cunt as she rocked up and down, faster and faster until with a delighted yell she writhed in convulsions of joy as her orgasm enveloped her body and she shivered all over, almost swooning away as her cunney disgorged a rivulet of love fluids all over my matted pubic thatch. '“Well, what do you think, Lenny, was that as good as before?” she gasped as she rolled off me to lay panting in my arms. “Just as good if not even better,” I replied truthfully. “I read somewhere that this method is known as the lazy man's fuck and I can see why. You have to do most of the work.” 'But before she could answer we were startled by a fruity chuckle from our right. “Well now, you look as if you've been working well enough already, nephew,” commented the gentleman whose portly frame filled the doorway. It was none other than Uncle Jonathan himself! “I'm glad to see that my birthday present has been opened,” he continued, smacking his lips with evident gusto. '“He's a chip off the old block and fully deserved his treat,” said Fiona. “Oh, do come in, Jonathan, if you are staying and shut the door. I want to fuck Leonard again so you'll have to share if you want to join us.” '“I will with pleasure,” said my randy uncle who tore off his clothes with an amazing rapidity and in a trice was on the bed with us, his veiny cock heavy as it lay semi-erect over his thigh. “After all, there's nothing like keeping it in the family.” I motioned as if to leave but Fiona caught my arm. “No, no, don't go-let's see if I can stiffen you up to ride your cock again, and while we're at it your uncle can fuck my bum if he can't get in my cunt,” she suggested.

'“Sounds like a good idea,” agreed Uncle Jonathan, reaching out for a pot of cold cream whilst Fiona knelt down and popped my cock into her mouth. Could I rise to the occasion one more time? Her darting tongue moved along my rod and as she licked my knob my shaft began to grow and swell up as hard and as stiff as ever. She gave my cock one last long lick and said: “Oooh, what stamina-I envy the lucky girl who'll be fucked by you now you've got the hang of it.” In no time at all she was back between my legs, her cunney lips slipping over my knob in an instant, and she bounced up and down, repeating the pleasure as Uncle Jonathan tried to insert his thick member in her cunt alongside mine, but this was impossible to achieve. So my uncle clamped his hands on her arse and parted her rounded bum cheeks and then he dipped a hand into the cold cream and liberally anointed her rear dimple. Fiona stuck out her bottom as he wet his sizeable knob with yet another dollop of cold cream. Then he pushed his thick shaft between her buttocks and soon his vigorous shoves gained an entrance as Fiona wiggled her bum lasciviously in front of him, enjoying the feel of his domed knob which was well burrowed inside her backside.

Clamping her firmly, Uncle Jonathan pushed forward until his entire shaft was sheathed inside her back passage. For a brief moment we rested with our two cocks throbbing against the other with only the thin divisional membrane of the anal canal separating them. Then I started to jerk my body up and down, my cock sluicing through her engorged quim whilst Fiona wriggled her derriere in time with each sliding motion of Uncle Jonathan's lusty organ. I found this threesome fucking so exciting that I came very soon after, injecting soul-stirring spurts of spunk, and this led to Uncle Jonathan pumping his prick in and out of Fiona's bum at a fast rate of knots until he ejaculated a hot gush of juice into her bottom. He gallantly withdrew his prick slowly until with an audible plop! the avuncular tool emerged and he sank back, mopping his brow. “Phew, that was fun,” he grunted. “Now who would like a drink?” 'I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with Jonathan and Fiona, my kindly uncle telephoning my parents to say that he was taking me out to supper as a birthday treat, which was in fact the case, although I dare say Uncle Jonathan could be justly accused of being economical with the truth!'

Frank slowly expelled a great breath of air. 'Damn it, I wish I had an uncle like yours, you lucky blighter.' “Yes, he's a real good sport, and on my seventeenth birthday he took me to a Victor Pudendum contest at the Jim Jam Club I must be going now as I have to prepare some notes for a tutorial,' said Leonard, rising to his feet. Trot all of you please remember, if any of you ever find yourselves short of a good fuck in London, just call me. I'm now an associate member of the Jim Jam and for just ten bob Solly the doorman can always be relied on to provide a couple of pretty young dollymops.'

'Id better leave too as I also have work to prepare for tomorrow,' I said, though thinking more of my assignments with Beth, Esme and Gillian than the boring pages of my books on political economy. 'See you at breakfast, chaps,' I added as I strolled back to my room with a smile on my face, as it suddenly struck me how funny it would be for one of my uncles, the Rector of West Finchley, to be offered an evening at the Jim Jam Club. However, the old boy was no fool and whilst passing the port after dinner one evening whilst a guest at our house, he made it dear that before marriage he had himself enjoyed what he described as The Fleshpots Of The Metropolis', and that he considered it right and proper for any young man to enjoy some happy years of freedom. 'Mind, I cannot countenance over-familiar dalliances with young, attractive members of the opposite, ah, gender.' I listened in respectful silence, stifling my amusement when he proceeded to lean over and in a conspiratorial whisper murmured in my ear: 'But if you do find yourself tempted by the sins of the flesh, my advice is to go for a girl with large titties. For as we often said in officers' mess when I served with the Hussars: like titties, like clitty.' Of course, by that time Uncle Arthur had downed the best part of a full decanter of '96 Old and Crusted so to be fair, it was the port rather than the clergyman giving me that sound advice! I shook myself free of this pleasant reverie as I opened the door to my quarters. For a moment I thought I had entered the wrong room for Nancy the maid was lying on my bed, dressed only in a flimsy nightdress and lying on her tummy. Alongside her, completely naked, was a most attractive tall girl, finely formed with blonde hair falling down in ringlets onto her shoulders. She had smaller breasts than the generously endowed Nancy but possessed firm, chubby buttocks which quivered as she lifted her head and said: 'Nancy, is this the young gentleman you were talking about before supper?' 'Yes, this is Rupert Mountjoy,' said Nancy, waving her hand lazily at me.

'Rupert, I want you to meet my friend Rosa Crouthampe, who works at Brasenose College but comes over to visit me as often as she can. Rosa is my very best friend, aren't you, dearest? Isn't she pretty, Rupert?

Look at the rolling swell of her bum cheeks. Now turn over, Rosa, and let Rupert see the tight yellow curls around your cunney and the dear little love lips peeking through them. Wouldn't you like to plonk your big cock between them, Rupert, you randy devil? Oh dear, you must forgive my naughty language but we've had a few drinks to celebrate my birthday, and anyhow, I'm sure you'd want to fuck Rosa because you and Barry and Frank are the randiest boys out of all the first year students.' 'You're very probably right,' I agreed as I shut the door behind me. 'But you shouldn't speak to Rupert in such a familiar way and I think you owe him an apology,' said Rosa, and despite my protestations that I was not in the least offended by Nancy's remark, Rosa insisted that Nancy should be punished for her indiscreet observations. Nancy herself did not seem to want to challenge her friend on this point and offered no resistance when Rosa turned her over on her belly and, throwing up her chemise, exposed Nancy's perfectly rounded little bum cheeks to my lascivious gaze. She then rose to her knees and began to smack the two beautiful white hemispheres of Nancy's backside, saying: This will teach you to be so forward, you bad girl.' She slapped lightly and it was plain that both girls were enjoying this little scene. Rosa's lithe naked body glistened as her hand rose and fell, her round, nut-brown nipples rising and falling quickly with each sharp stroke, her cheeks slightly flushed with her exertions and her blue eyes sparkling with excitement as she chastised her naughty friend. 'Oh! Oh! Oh! No more, Rosa, ouch, it hurts, it hurts, Ouch! Please stop!' begged Nancy as she winced and wriggled under the rapid succession of slaps. 'Quiet now, Nancy! Stop making such a fuss,' snapped Rosa fiercely. 'You have been a very bad girl and all bad girls get smacked. Besides, Rupert and I love the way your bum cheeks jiggle as I smack them. Now we want to see your lovely botty colour up. See how nicely your buttocks are blushing! They should always be bright pink, shouldn't they, Rupert?'

This lewd scene had made my cock swell up unbearably and as I watched this stimulating scene Nancy called out to me: 'Come on then, show us your stiffstander.' The thought flashed through my mind of what would occur if we were caught (for there were no locks on the doors) but as the maxim of the great Count Gewirtz of Galicia has it:

Ven der putz shteht, ligt der sechel in drerd, and I shucked off my clothes in record time. I jumped onto the bed and huddled up next to Rosa who, without missing one beat of her rhythm as she continued her inexorable spanking of Nancy's now tingling backside, clamped her wide, red lips around my rampant cock. Mercifully for the other girl, this excited Rosa so much that after bobbing her head back and forth to suck in as much of my shaft as she could, she ceased her slapping of Nancy's poor bum and instead she jammed her hands around my pulsating prick which already had a blob of milky jism formed on the tip of my knob. She jammed down the foreskin and lashed her tongue round my pole which was now thudding away like a steamhammer. I worked my hips backwards and forwards as her pliant tongue washed over my bared helmet, thoroughly enjoying this delicious sucking-off.

Meanwhile Nancy had raised herself on her hands and knees and had lowered her pretty head between Rosa's legs, splaying open her buttocks to make room for her lips to kiss between the ripe, white globes, worrying her tongue around her corn-coloured pussey hair which I imagined was already dampening with love juice, teasing the tip around the pouting pussey lips before slipping in and out of her juicy quim. Fired by this tribadic activity I pulled my prick away from Rosa's mouth and positioned myself behind Nancy, whose rounded bottom cheeks were moving in rhythm as she suctioned Rosa's blonde-haired pussey between her lips. Nancy took hold of my sinewy shaft with her right hand and directed its purple-domed head to the glorious vale between her buttocks and to the tight-looking wrinkled hole that lay between them. After further wetting my tool with spittle, I attacked this fortress with vigour, but as my member forced its way past the sphincter muscle she wailed: 'Ah, stop! Stop! You'll rend me if you don't withdraw!' Fortunately I keep a small jar of pomade on the bedside table so I swiftly greased my cock and again set my knob at the little brown bum-hole. The pomade worked like a charm for this time when I pushed forward Nancy wriggled her arse until I was firmly ensconced inside her bum. For a brief moment I rested and then slowly began to pull in and out whilst I threw my arms around her waist and frigged her pussey. Nancy responded to this double stimulation by squirming under the surging strokes of my prick. Her legs began to shake and I knew that her spend was approaching. She gripped hold of Rosa's thighs as she lapped furiously at the girl's soaking slit. Nancy's juices flowed freely and she worked her bum to bring me off, and I flooded her arse with a copious discharge of sperm which both warmed and lubricated her superb bottom. As I spunked into her I continued to work my prick back and forth so that it remained as hard as rock as, with a 'pop', I uncorked my tool from her bum-hole.

We screamed loudly in the frenzy of emission as Rosa also spent over Nancy's lapping tongue and we collapsed in a heap on my bed. When we had recovered Nancy thanked me for taking the trouble to use the pomade and not simply pushing forward and ignoring her plea to withdraw. I sometimes think that there are some men who enjoy hurting their partners-or at best they are uncaring,' she complained.*Most girls enjoy a good fuck up the bum but only when the cock has been well oiled beforehand with butter or some other substance.' Since this day I have heeded her words and have always kept a jar of cold cream handy for this purpose. But now we were fired up again and we engaged in some splendid three way kisses, pressing our lips together and waggling our tongues around in a most sensuous manner. If we had had any inhibitions they were now cast aside, so I had not the slightest intention of ducking the challenge when Nancy placed her hand on top of my head and drew it down towards Rosa's hairy mound, saying: 'Rosa loves having her pussey kissed. I've brought her off, Rupert, now let's see if you can do so.' I drew my body up until my tongue was level with her titties and began by nibbling at her nipples, ticking and sucking on their rubbery hardness until they were sticking out like two tiny stalks. Then I let my tongue travel slowly down the velvety white skin of her tummy, pausing briefly to encircle her belly-button before sliding down into the curly smooth hair of her mound. Like a snake I slid myself down between her legs as I parted her soft, lightly scented pubic bush with my fingertips to reveal her swollen clitoris, and as I worked my lips into the long gash of her cleft I breathed in the delicious aroma from her clean, appealing cunney, a fragrance which has always greatly excited me. By slipping a hand under her bum, I pressed her even more closely to me as I placed my lips directly over her ditty and sucked it into my mouth, where the tip of my tongue began to explore it from all directions. I could feel it growing even larger as her heels drummed against the sheets and her legs twitched up and down along the sides of my body. Rosa became hugely agitated when I found the tiny button under the fold at the base of her clitty and began twirling my tongue around it. The faster I vibrated my tongue, the more she twisted and turned and I was forced to move both of my hands to her shoulders to keep her cunney pressed against my face. She now started to gyrate her pelvis as I increased the stimulation and she planted her feet firmly on my back as if she desired to mould our two bodies into one mass of quivering flesh.

'Oooh! Aaah! Stick your cock in me now!' panted Rosa, and this was an opportunity my bursting prick was happy to take. So I heaved myself up and fixed my lips on one of her horned-up nipples, and the strawberry stalk grew long and hard as I sucked it between my teeth.

At the same time her cunney responded to the urgings of the three fingers I had buried inside the clinging sheath and I frigged her slippery clitty with my thumb. The more I frigged her, the quicker she jerked her hips and she grabbed my cock and began pumping my shaft, sliding her hand up and down in such insane excitement that she spent then and there and I felt the sticky moistness of her honey cascade over my hand. This set me off and I spunked a profuse libation of hot, creamy jism that drenched her hand. She directed my spurting shaft up to her belly and smeared my cream all over her white tummy. 'Now who's been a naughty girl,' stormed Nancy. 'See how you've wasted poor Rupert's semen. Get up and bend over the chair in the corner,' To my surprise, Rosa meekly did as she was told and when she had placed herself over the chair, Nancy gave me one of my slippers and told me to chastise the wayward girl. 'No, I can't do that, Rosa would not want to be spanked,' I laughed nervously as I took a long look at the plump, well-shaped cheeks of Rosa's behind. 'Oh, but Nancy's right,' Rosa called out, turning her head to look at me. 'I have been a bad girl and deserve to have my bum smacked.' Well, there is no accounting for tastes, and although in my time I have spanked a good number of female bottoms I have never been a fervent devotee of le vice anglais. Perhaps this is because at St Lionel's Academy, corporal punishment was unknown and we suffered none of the sadistic beatings inflicted upon pupils at most other English public schools. But be that as it may, whilst I draw the line at really whipping one's partner's backside, if the girl really likes to be stimulated in such fashion, so be it, and I cannot deny that I achieve some mild satisfaction from distributing the occasional few passionate slaps on the swells of feminine rears. So I jumped out of bed and went across to where Rosa lay inert over the chair, provocatively wiggling her arse as I approached. I passed my hand caressingly over the cool, soft skin of the swelling cheeks of her buttocks. I brought the sole of my slipper down upon these pretty posteriors but my first few strokes hardly changed the colour of the flesh and Rosa turned her head round and said: 'You may hit harder than that, Rupert. Honestly, I can hardly feel anything.' 'Are you certain that this is what you want?' I asked, 'Because if it is, my girl, I'll give it to you!'

She nodded and so this time I lifted my arm high and brought down the slipper with a thwack which must have made her bottom tingle. I struck her again in similar smart fashion and her bum cheeks soon assumed a glowing, rosy hue as I administered a good, sound spanking. This pleased both girls for Nancy went down on her knees and sucked up my cock between her lips, palpating my prick so sensuously that my shaft swelled up to bursting point in her mouth. After a dozen strokes I threw away the slipper and led Rosa back to the bed where, as I surmised she would find her backside too painful to lie upon, I pushed her face downwards, her legs apart but on the floor and her forearms on the bed. She knew what was about to happen so she stuck out her backside for me to part the two tingling cheeks and I plunged my trusty cock into her warm, juicy slit from behind, my balls fairly cracking against her bottom. 'Keep going, that's the ticket!' she laughed merrily, and her backside responded to every shove as I pounded her pussey, driving home until, excited to such raging peaks, the contractions of her deliriously tight cunney lips sucked the spunk from my prick. The sweet friction of her pussey lips against the sensitive skin of my knob sent the sperm pumping through my shaft into her waiting love box as I thrust my twitching tool to and fro with all my youthful vigour. Nancy threw herself down to lie beside us on her back, her hands busy parting her pussey lips as she frigged herself excitedly, somehow managing to turn her head across to lick Rosa's gorgeous titties. My own climax was nearing and our surging cries of joy echoed around the room as the three of us began the journey down the road to ecstasy. Then I started to tremble and began shaking like a leaf from head to toe, until a huge wave of delight flooded through my body and I sent thick wads of creamy spunk crashing into Rosa's sopping cunney and she too screamed with delight as she shivered through a powerful orgasm just as the hot, frothy jism drenched her womb. Well, of course I would have liked nothing better than to have continued to fuck both girls throughout the remainder of the evening. But I had an important essay to prepare for Professor Webb and reluctantly ordered the girls to leave my room and go back downstairs. They were most disappointed and even my insistence on giving each of the girls a pound note as a farewell present did not mollify them.

'I bet you've already found some posh tart from one of the women's colleges. These girls are supposed to arrive here all sweet and innocent but it doesn't take them long to snap up any young boy who has had some experience and knows how to fuck like a gentleman,' sighed Nancy. 'Rupert, don't forget now, any time you want your cock sucked, please let me know.'

I smiled my goodbyes and with difficulty turned my mind to such stimulating legal matters as the rights of landlords and tenants and the ramifications of the judgement in the case of The Attorney General versus The Borough of Fulham in the High Court fifteen years ago. It was devilishly hard to concentrate upon such affairs. When I banished Nancy and Rosa from my mind, Beth and Esme stepped up smartly to take their place and when I finally forced them out of my brain, a picture of the beautiful Gillian Headleigh formed itself every time I tried to focus my eyes on the page. My heart began to pound as I remembered her words: 'meet me at this time tomorrow and you may fuck me for as long as you can keep your cock stiff!' The old, familiar tingling began to make itself felt in my groin. My hand wandered down to smooth itself over my shaft, but I had no need of the five-fingered widow after tonight's fun and games, and anyhow I needed to keep up my strength for Gillian tomorrow morning. So I cleared my mind of everything except the need to prepare for Professor Webb's tutorial and doggedly read six more pages from my textbook, scribbling some notes and memorising some important points before slamming the book shut, and after a refreshing warm bath I settled down in bed, as happy as a sandboy. As is still my custom, I picked up a newspaper to read for a few minutes before turning off the light and in the Oxford Mail my attention was captured by a report of the speech made at the Empire Club by Dr Whibley of Merton College attacking 'the monstrous encroachment of women upon the University' and how a mixed University- 'the dream of the farcemonger'-will lose its unique distinction. 'The university will be destroyed because once more the patent truth has been ignored that men are men and women women.' For how long will such reactionary views be propounded in this new twentieth century, I thought to myself as I chucked the newspaper on the floor in disgust, because no force on earth can turn back the clock once a sizeable proportion of the population (for better or worse) refuse to accept the old established order. By and large, women will never again be content with a subservient role in society despite the rantings of Dr Whibley and his ilk, and will rightly demand the same privileges and duties as men. As far as I was concerned, it was a most pleasant discovery to find out that inside the ivy-covered college walls, away from the prying gaze of the outside world, the opportunity arose for many girls to shed a cloak of modesty which could be safely stripped away. My first days in Oxford, alone and apprehensive as to whether I would be happy spending three years here, were miserable indeed-but after meeting these jolly girls who revelled in their new-found freedom, there was now no doubt in my mind that the student life had much to commend itself to a red-blooded young man who enjoyed the taste of forbidden fruit!