The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.III

CHAPTER ONE. A Menu To Savour

I well remember standing in front of the fire in the drawing-room after breakfast on the morning of October 28 1905.

Outside in Bedford Square the weather looked distinctly chilly and a brisk wind was winnowing the last big harvest of leaves from the trees. It was a good morning to stay indoors, I reflected, as a sudden squall briefly rattled the windows, though I would have to go out at about half past twelve, as I had accepted a luncheon invitation from a new acquaintance, Miss Nancy Carrington. Of course, I could have always telephoned and pleaded that a trifling indisposition would prevent my presence at her table, but on the other hand, Miss Carrington only lived across the road and, even more important, she was a good-looking, young American lady from Boston whose wealthy family had rented a house for her in Bloomsbury to enable her to continue her studies in the nearby British Museum during the six months she planned to stay in London. Nancy Carrington had called round last Thursday, which happened to be my twenty-second birthday, 'to meet my new English neighbours' and I had been very much taken by the sensual beauty of this lovely rose cheeked girl, whose long blonde hair cascaded down in ringlets to her shoulders and in whose bright blue eyes appeared a merry twinkle when she smiled. She had been wearing a figure hugging dress nipped in at the waist which accentuated not only her slender frame but also her pert, uptilted breasts which thrust saucily against an exquisitely fine silk blouse.

When, during the course of our conversation, I happened to mention that I was celebrating my birthday, she immediately invited me over to her house for a celebratory luncheon. At first I demurred, but she insisted, saying that her cook had just completed a cordon bleu course at Mrs. Bidder's Academy of Domestic Science and that she would welcome the excuse to make a small party which would give her cook the chance to show off her newly learned prowess. I rang the bell and my footman Edwards promptly appeared with a sheaf of letters on a silver salver. The second post has just arrived, sir,' he said, passing the tray to me. Thank you, Edwards, I'll read these in the library. Meanwhile, would you please telephone Harrods and ask them to deliver by noon a large bouquet of flowers suitable for a gentleman to take as a gift to a lady who has invited him for luncheon.'

'Certainly, sir,' said Edwards, bowing slightly. 'May I presume that the bouquet is for Miss Carrington at number forty-seven? If so, may I recommend chrysanthemums as the lady is particularly fond of them.' It never fails to surprise me how servants glean their information but it is a fact that nothing went on at Albion Towers-our family home near the sleepy little Yorkshire village of Wharton-which was not known by Goldhill, our old butler, and his staff, and which was doubtless discussed in detail in the servants' hall! But in this case, as will shortly be shown, I soon found out how Edwards knew about Nancy Carrington's taste in flowers, it being the result of a romantic liaison my young footman had formed with Nancy's personal maid. After telling Edwards that I would be dining at my club that evening, I went into the library to open the post. The first letter was from my tailor, Mr. Rabinowitz, thanking me for the prompt payment I had made for my new suit and offering to make me an overcoat, at a very moderate cost, out of a beautiful eighteen ounce grey tweed cloth which he had bought directly from the mill. I filed the letter away for future reference and then opened the envelope postmarked Knaresborough which suggested that the letter inside came from my parents. It was indeed a short note from my father, informing me that His Majesty King Edward VII would be visiting Yorkshire in three weeks time and that we had been invited to a reception in York on November 15 given in honour of the visit by the Deputy Lord Lieutenant of Yorkshire. Would I please let him know as soon as possible whether I wanted to attend? My mother had also scribbled a short note to add that our neighbours Dr and Mrs. Wigmore had also been invited and would attend as would their daughter Diana, the lovely girl who readers of my first book will recall, was my guide and partner on that never to be forgotten summer's afternoon seven years before when I first sheathed my cock in a wet and welcoming cunney. Whether wonderful or disastrous, one never forgets one's first fuck: I was a naive schoolboy of fifteen and at first, frankly, bewildered by my maiden voyage along the highway of love; but I was fortunate enough to be shown the ropes by a sophisticated girl who took the trouble to explain how best I could please us both and thus cater for our joint needs. Diana is a talented artist and is working in Paris at present but whenever we see each other we usually end up in bed. If for no other reason, this was a good enough bait to make me accept the invitation to go up to York, though I would probably have agreed to do so in any case, because I wanted to pay my respects to my old Uncle Humphrey who lived in Harrogate. It was Uncle Humphrey, my mother's eldest brother, who had persuaded my parents that I should spend a year sampling the delights of London after having gained (God knows how!) an upper second-class degree in law at Oxford University. He had taken me to one side at a family party during the summer for what he called a man-to-man talk and from his opening remarks I gathered that during his youth he had been something of a young gay blade about town. After much clutching at the lapels of his dinner jacket and marching and countermarching across the drawing-room carpet, he confessed how he had conjoined, as he put it, with many attractive young ladies who may not have been thought suitable companions by his parents but whose company he very much enjoyed-especially during the wee, small hours, if I took his meaning! 'Marriage is an excellent and most proper institution, my boy,'

Uncle Humphrey had intoned solemnly, 'and I trust that when your time comes to settle down, you have as satisfying and comfortable relationship as has been granted to me with your Aunt Maud. But let us not beat about the bush. Just as it is important for your bride to come to you unsullied, it is of equal import that you too gain experience in ah, “intimate relationships” between the sexes. The best place to do this is preferably far from one's home and in the anonymity of a big city. So if you agree, I propose that you spend the next twelve months in London. You can stay rent free at my old friend Colonel Wright's house in Bedford Square, Bloomsbury, where all your domestic needs will be looked after by Mrs. Harrow, the housekeeper.

There you will be able to entertain with total discretion any friends of the opposite sex. Furthermore, I will make you an annual allowance to enable you to live at a decent standard of comfort.' He waved away my effusive words of gratitude. 'No thanks needed, my boy, it's my very real pleasure,' he continued, placing his hand on my shoulder.

'I've already settled fifty thousand pounds on both my daughters and your Aunt will never be able to spend what's left in the bank even if I kick the bucket tomorrow. And in any case, I'd far rather enjoy spending my money now whilst I'm alive than give the damned Government the satisfaction of mopping up thousands of pounds in death duties from my estate.' It took a while for my parents to be won round to his freewheeling point of view, but in the end they consented, on the strict understanding that I would take up articles with Godfrey, Alan and Colin, the family firm of solicitors, immediately after the year was up. So I owed a great deal to Uncle Humphrey and though I wrote to the old chap occasionally, I knew how much he thoroughly enjoyed the visits I paid him and Aunt Maud (especially as his two daughters had married and lived far away, cousin Beth in Cornwall and cousin Sarah in the Highlands of Scotland. So I sat down then and there and wrote back, first to my father, telling him that I would return home to Albion Towers two days before the party in York and secondly to Uncle Humphrey, asking him if it would be convenient if I came to see him in Harrogate whilst I was up in Yorkshire for a few days. When I looked closely at the third and final letter Edwards had given me I saw that it had been posted in France. And yes, the name of the sender. Miss Diana Wigmore, was written on the back of the envelope- what a coincidence! I'll wager she's writing about this party for the King, I thought to myself, and sure enough that is what had made Diana put pen to paper. For the record, diary, I will copy her letter in your pages: 69 Rue General Olivier Norman, Paris Darling Rupert, My Mama has just written to me about a grand reception being given in honour of the King on November 15 in York. I gather that your people have also been invited and if you are going to accept then I will go back home as well for a few days. Write, or better still send me a telegram at the above address (trust me to find an apartment in a house numbered soixante-neuf!) as soon as possible to let me know your plans.

Have you been keeping well? I suppose your prick has been well-exercised since we last exchanged letters three months ago. You must either write and tell me all about what you have been doing with yourself or tell me all the juicy details if we are to meet back home next month. Meanwhile, I have been enjoying myself too though I am working hard and not living the Sybaritic life of a lounge lizard like some I could mention! You remember I told you about my affair with Alain. Well, that fizzled out and for more than three weeks I was without a bed-mate for though I had many offers, including several from fellow artists and my landlord Monsieur Cantona, I am choosy as to whose cock I want sheathed in my cunt. Relief came yesterday with the arrival of a new lodger, an American lad of about our age named Wilson who has come to stay for a month in Paris to perfect his French. He is a handsome young man with a craggy face, a strong nose, well-pronounced cheekbones, a firm mouth and a square jaw. We met on the stairway as I was carrying a kettle of hot water up to my room to make some coffee. I introduced myself to him and I was pleased by the feel of his firm handshake. Will you join me for a cup of coffee?' I asked and he thanked me warmly. 'Just let me put some papers in my desk before I forget and I'll be down in three minutes,' he said and I watched with appreciation his muscular, tight backside move quickly up the stairs. In fact, I was so busy fantasizing about Wilson's bum whilst I was preparing the coffee that I spilled some milk all over the front of my blouse. Hell's bells, I said to myself, and without giving it another thought, unbuttoned the garment and threw it in the direction of my laundry basket. There was a muffled cough behind me and there was Wilson, looking rather embarrassed as I turned round and faced him wearing only a thin transparent silk camisole.

'Oh-sorry-I-uh…' he stammered. 'No, please don't apologise,' I pleaded, as I watched a slight bulge form in the crotch of his trousers. 'I just spilled some milk over my blouse and had to change it.' 'I can't say I'm sorry,' he said wistfully and it struck me that the yearning expression on his face deserved to be captured on canvas. So I asked Wilson if he would sit for me and to my joy he agreed. 'You'll have to sit quite still for about an hour,' I warned him but he said he would be honoured to be sketched by such a talented artist. 'How do you know I'm talented?' I teased and he replied that the pictures on the wall testified to my abilities. Well, Wilson proved to be a marvellous model, keeping stock still whilst I worked and when I had finished he came round and looked critically at my drawing. 'I only wish our roles could be reversed and that I could be the artist and you the model,' he commented. Why is that?' I asked, slightly puzzled by his remark. 'Because you have such a lovely figure, Diana. I can hardly take my eyes off your beautiful breasts,' he whispered hoarsely, running his hands up the sides of my arms, and I swiftly realised why I had so excited him. Of course, in my haste I had neglected to put on another blouse and all the while Wilson had been gazing intently at my breasts which were only covered by a transparent silk camisole. My titties fairly tingled with anticipation and I felt my nipples pucker with delight as he looked down my body. I took hold of his hands and boldly put them full on my heaving breasts and he sharply exhaled a long drawn out breath as he felt the rigid and upright titties against his palms. I could see the bulge in his trousers getting bigger which made my pussey moisten and I started to walk backwards, pulling Wilson along with me. It took only three or four steps to reach my bed and we collapsed down upon the sheets as our mouths met in a burning, passionate kiss. His lips were very wet and soft and I could feel his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth whilst his hands roamed across my breasts, squeezing, nipping, and gently caressing the soft white globes, which drove me wild with desire for him. He unzipped my skirt and pulled it down as at the same time I pulled the camisole over my head so that I was now naked except for a pair of frilly white briefs and my stockings which were held up by two red garters. 'Now it's my turn to see more of you,' I said and I quickly unbuttoned his cream flannels and plunged my hand inside his flies to free his bursting, erect cock as he hastily discarded his shoes and socks. His trousers and drawers soon followed and my eyes fastened upon his thick prick which was standing nicely to attention, a stiff staff up against his flat tummy. I grasped hold of the throbbing tube and ran my fingers down the blue vein which ran down the length of the smooth, warm shaft. Wilson groaned and put his mouth on my titties, nibbling my nips which rose up like two red bullets. I lifted my bottom to allow him to pull down my knickers and a thrilling wave of pleasure flowed through me as his fingers massaged my hairy pussey and he slid his forefinger inside my oozing cunt whilst I played with his bare cock, slowly rubbing my clenched fingers up and down the hot, pulsing pole. Our two nude bodies rolled in ecstasy on the bed. His hands were never still, and as he looked lovingly at each part of me, he stroked my breasts, my bottom and my pussey and whispered how gorgeous, how sensual and how desirable I was. Then fuck me, please, Wilson,' I murmured, and the dear lad was more than ready to oblige. He climbed on top of me and I spread my legs, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his cock which I still held tightly in my grasp. I guided his knob between my cunney lips and his rock hard prick filled my cunt as we wriggled round until we were both in the most comfortable position for some truly wonderful fucking. I wrapped my feet around his neck as he began to thrust his truncheon in and out of my juicy love channel and I quivered with delight as he began to pump faster and faster, his balls fairly banging against my bum. 'Deeper, Wilson, deeper,' I purred and he pressed his buttocks together and rammed his tool into me as far as it would go. 'Aaah! Aaah! Keep going, you randy big-cocked boy!' I shrieked, and I shuddered with delight as his prick massaged my ditty and I could feel my cunney sucking at him and I squeezed every time he pulled his cock back for another huge thrust. Now I arched my back, willing the lovely lad on as I pushed my pussey up against him, forcing his cock even deeper inside me and I screamed out my joy as we came together, Wilson shooting a fierce fountain of creamy sperm inside my cunt as my own love juices flowed out of my sated honeypot.

We threshed like wild animals, oblivious to everything except the breathtaking currents of the electric force which we had generated between us surging through our bodies. He rolled off me and lay on his back, his chest heaving up and down as he sought to recover his senses, but his cock, which was glistening with a coating of my pussey juice, was still standing up stiffly and I leaned forward and crammed as much of the silky wet shaft into my mouth as possible. My head bobbed up and down as I greedily gobbled as much of his prick as I could, massaging the sensitive underside with my tongue. I could hear Wilson almost crying with pleasure. Soon I felt his prick go rigid and he spurted jets of sticky semen inside my mouth which I eagerly swallowed until I had milked every last drain of spunk from his trembling tool. His jism had a salty flavour, pleasant enough, but not as tasty as yours, Rupert, so there is no call for you to be jealous!

The grateful boy kissed my lips again and again and thanked me profusely for sucking him off, as, believe it or not, this was the first time he had ever enjoyed the delights of this grand sport.

Unbelievably, the poor lad had till now missed out completely on an activity which all men adore. I am sure you will agree that there is not a red-blooded man in the world who can control his excitement once a pair of female lips have fastened themselves upon his knob. But as far as Wilson was concerned, the very idea of girls and boys sucking each other off was alien to him. He had been brought up in a very strict environment and even the mechanics of oral sex were totally unknown to him until he was sixteen when his wise brother-in-law gave him a copy of Dr Nigel Andrews' excellent book Fucking For Beginners.

Unfortunately, he was never given a chance to put into practice what he had learned from Dr Andrews' tome and if we had not been pressed for time I would have shown him how to eat pussey. Hopefully, I will give him his first lesson tomorrow.

But for now I could only stay for another hour or so as I had to leave for a seminar (you would be amazed at how well I can now converse in French) so we spent the next sixty minutes in fucking until poor Wilson was totally exhausted. Twice more he came inside me and twice I sucked his cock back up to a fine stiffness. We finished this torrid session of love-making by my swallowing the by now understandably diminished quantity of spermy essence from his trembling prick. Rupert darling, I must close now-but I do hope you will be able to go to York next month. We should have some great fun if old Tum Tum is on form. All my love, Diana I folded the sheets of this billet doux back in its envelope and resolved to keep it to copy into the pages of my journal at a later date. So I strode upstairs into my bedroom and locked the letter away in my escritoire. As I did so, I heard a slight noise coming from inside my bathroom. The door was slightly ajar and I peered inside to see that Mary, one of the prettiest maids in the house, was humming a tune whilst she was bending over the bath, polishing the enamel. Although she had her back to me I could tell it was Mary from the colour of her dark, almost black hair and the lissome shape of her body. I passed my tongue over my lips as I surveyed the contours of her ripe backside which, undisguised by a too-tight skirt, stuck out in an extremely provocative fashion.

Like my chum Frank Folkestone is fond of saying, I can resist anything except a pretty bum! I took two paces forward and pinched her glorious bum between my thumb and forefinger. 'Eddie! You randy bugger, stop that at once! Can't you wait till lunch-time?' Mary squealed as she shot up, but she clapped a hand to her mouth in horror when she whirled round and saw that it was the master of the house who had assaulted her. I smiled broadly to put the girl at her ease and said, 'Ah me, lucky Eddie, who I presume is my efficient young footman.' She gulped with embarrassment and said, 'Yes sir, Eddie Edwards. I'm awfully sorry but I didn't expect you to come up behind me.' 'The fault is all mine and I had no right at all to startle you, but your delicious rounded bottom cheeks were simply too arousing as you bent over the bath. Please forgive me, Mary, it won't happen again,' I added, with as much sincerity as I could muster, which was not a great deal, especially when even as I spoke, my cock began to swell up alarmingly, forming a noticeable bulge between my legs.

'Oh, that's quite all right, sir, I'm not cross with you-it was just being caught unawares which made me jump,' she said, turning back to finish her work. I considered her cute arse again and placed a hand on each soft, rounded buttock. 'Oooh, you'd better not do that, sir. You really mustn't. Someone might come in.' Amused and aroused now by this form of surrender I unbuttoned her skirt and pulled it to the floor. Then I tugged down her crisp white knickers and she stepped out of them before resuming her labours. I smoothed my hands along the creamy cool skin of her appetising bum cheeks and then slid my right hand between her legs. She neatly trapped it by squeezing her thighs together, leaving me to wrestle with my fly buttons with my left hand whilst I tickled the entrance to her honeypot with my imprisoned fingers. My trousers and drawers now joined Mary's clothes on the floor and I begged her to release my hand so I could replace it with something more pleasing. She moved her head round and with shining eyes looked down at my hard, erect member.

'You'll have to go in by the tradesmen's entrance, sir, I can't risk letting you have my cunney till next week,' she said, and wriggled back so that her head and upper body were bent quite low over the bath as she pushed her glorious backside upwards and opened her legs to give me fair view of the tiny, puckered brown rosette. I knelt down and picked up a sponge and soaped my pulsating boner before parting her buttocks with my hands and pushing my uncapped helmet into the cleft between them. 'Yes, do go, sir. Go carefully though as you stick that nice thick length of cock up my bum,' she said excitedly.

I angled her legs a little further apart to afford an even better view of her winking little rear dimple and gently eased my knob forward. For a few seconds I encountered resistance but then her sphincter muscle relaxed and I slid my rigid rod in and out of her tight arse-hole, plunging in and out of the now widened rim as Mary reached back and spread her cheeks even further, jerking her bum in time to my rhythm as I wrapped one arm around her breasts, squeezing each of them in turn and snaking my other arm round her waist to frig her wet pussey as she whimpered with pleasure, squirming and wriggling about to such an extent that I had to work hard to keep my cock inside her. Mary's bottom continued to respond gaily to every pistoning thrust as again and again I drove home, my balls bouncing against her soft buttocks. Then I shoved my shaft in to the hilt, corking her to the very limit. I stayed still for a moment and then jerked my hips slowly as I felt the first sweet stirrings of an approaching spend and with a strangled cry I shot a copious emission of gushing jism inside her bottom. As I spurted into her bum-hole, I continued to work my prick back and forth until, with an audible 'plop', I withdrew my shrinking organ from Mary's well-lathered nether orifice. 'Ooh, that was nice, sir. Could you suck my cunney now?' she asked.

Well, much as we would have both enjoyed a continuation of this frolic, tempus fugit-Mary had to finish her household chores and I had to compose myself for my luncheon with Nancy Carrington. I noticed a large blob of spunk had dripped down from Mary's bottom on to the marble floor which she wiped clean with a cloth. 'Just as well we didn't have that lovely bottom-fuck in the bedroom,' I commented as I hauled up my trousers. 'I wouldn't want to damage any of Colonel Wright's rare Persian carpets.' This remark made Mary giggle and she said, 'Oh, spunk marks are no problem, sir. Whenever the Colonel has one of his special parties, we always manage to clean up without any trouble.' 'Special parties?' I queried and Mary put her finger to my lips. 'Please don't tell anyone I mentioned anything to you, sir. I thought you knew about the monthly reunions or I wouldn't have said a word about them.' 'Don't worry, my lips are sealed,'

I said, intrigued by her concern. 'But I haven't had the pleasure of meeting the Colonel himself. He just happens to be a close friend of my Uncle Humphrey and agreed to rent the house to him whilst he is in India. I seem to recall my Uncle telling me that the Colonel was invited to join some government inquiry and will spend twelve months out East.' Mary nodded and confirmed my vague memory of the conversation with Uncle Humphrey. 'Colonel Wright's the deputy chairman of the Royal Commission on Native Education. The Prime Minister himself asked him to serve and so he felt he could not refuse. “I don't really want to go, Mary,” he said to me before he left, “but the other day Mr. Lloyd-George all but promised me a knighthood if I accept the job.” '“Never mind, sir,” I said, as I squeezed his balls. “I'll bring my friend Sally round and we'll have that nice whoresome threesome you've always dreamed about.”' Was I dreaming or did this pretty young maid actually promise her former employer that she and another girl would share his bed? I looked at her in astonishment and burst out, 'You said what?' She repeated her remark and I said incredulously, 'You were squeezing the Colonel's balls? That was rather forward behaviour, was it not?' 'Not really,' she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 'After all, he had his cock in my cunney at the time.' I stared at her in amazement as she added, 'Don't look so surprised, sir. Cuthbert might be fifty-eight in February but I can tell you it's quite true that there's many a good tune played on an old fiddle. He takes longer to come than younger men but that's all to the good because so many boys of my age come too quickly.' 'Did he fuck you very often?' I wondered, and this question brought a satisfied smile to her lips.

'As often as I wanted,' she rejoined pertly. 'If I say so myself, I'm not short of a cock when I want one.' 'I'm sure you're not, Mary, you're a very attractive young lady. Frankly, I'm just rather curious as to how you two became involved.' 'Oh, that's easily explained,' she said lightly, picking up her box of cloths and polishes. 'I'll tell you how if you don't mind following me into the bedroom across the hall. I know it's not being used right now but Mr.

Bristow asked me to give it the once over every week in case we have a sudden guest coming to stay.' Mr. Bristow, I should mention here, was the butler I had inherited from Colonel Wright. Sadly, his aged father had died suddenly a few days previous to this conversation and naturally I had agreed at once to his request for a week's compassionate leave of absence. In the meantime, the estimable cook-housekeeper, Mrs. Harrow, was taking charge of all matters below stairs. 'Certainly, I'll come along-you'll now have a witness if Mr. Bristow alleges that you failed to carry out his instructions,' I joked as I followed Mary into the second bedroom. I sat on the bed whilst she told me of how she first became aware of Colonel Wright's attentions. She told me, 'It all began about eighteen months ago just after I had joined the household. Although I was only seventeen, I had already sampled two or three cocks in my pussey before I came here. However, I hadn't been fucked for a good few weeks until a few days before this incident when I had let PC Shackleton thread me up against the back garden wall. 'Well, I went to bed well satisfied and, though I slept like a top, for once I woke before Mrs. Harrow knocked on my door and I remember snaking my arms above my head for a long stretch, thinking back with a smile about the little knee-trembler I had enjoyed with my randy copper, before kicking off the bedclothes and springing to my feet. 'Now I never wear anything in bed so I was stark naked as I padded over to the window, threw back the curtains and opened the window. As I gazed delightedly at the bright dawn sunshine my hand strayed down to my little nookie.

I was twisting my curly pussey hair around my fingers and gently stroking myself around my crack when I heard what sounded like a sharp intake of breath from underneath my window. Was it a stray cat perhaps or was there some dirty beast down there spying on me? There was an easy way to find out – I withdrew for a moment and returned with my chamber pot which I had used during the night but I added the contents of my water jug to fill the pot almost to the brim. Then I raised the window sash to the highest level and leaned out, feeling the cool morning air tease my rosy nipples into little erect buds. I distinctly heard a low, furtive moan coming from down below which confirmed that it was indeed a Peeping Tom hiding in the dense foliage. So I withdrew for a moment and came back again, leaning out to tip the contents of the chamber pot out the window! 'An anguished yell told me that I had scored a direct hit on whoever had been spying on me-but to my horror, who should emerge wet headed, spluttering with rage, with his trousers round his knees and his hand round his bare cock but the Master himself!' The dirty old so-and-so! It served him right to be drenched in your you-know-what!' I exclaimed. 'Ah! But you've jumped to conclusions, sir, though of course I did the very same thing as well,' Mary remonstrated, touching my lips with her finger. The truth of the matter was that the Colonel, who has always suffered from insomnia, had woken with the dawn and had decided to potter around the garden. It was by pure coincidence that he happened to be outside my window when suddenly he had been caught short and rather than trudge back inside the house, he decided to relieve his bladder in the garden. He had just finished his piddle when he heard me open the window. He looked up and, well, I could hardly blame him for becoming speechless with astonished delight when he saw my naked body above him.' Mary paused for breath and then continued with a grin, 'Well, poor old Cuthbert could hardly shout up anything to me or the other servants might have looked out to see what was going on. So he rushed inside, changed his clothes and came straight up to see me. I had already half a mind to start packing my bags but as soon as Cuthbert came into my room he began apologising for his rudeness and explained the circumstances which had inadvertently led him to the sorry situation in which he now found himself. 'And as for giving me the sack, nothing could be further from his thoughts. Instead, he insisted on presenting me with a gold sovereign to compensate, as he put it, for any distress I might have felt about the wretched incident which he hoped could now be forgotten. 'I thought this was more than generous and so I asked him to sit on the bed. “You deserve a proper view of what you only caught a glimpse of earlier,” I said and tossing back my shimmering curls and running my tongue lewdly over my pouting lips, I unknotted the cord of the bathrobe I had hastily donned along with a pair of white cotton knickers when I realised that the Cuthbert was coming upstairs. I slid out of the robe, arching my spine and sucking in my breath to give Cuthbert a wonderful full frontal view of my big, luscious breasts. You haven't seen them yet, have you, sir? Well, take my word, I'm lucky enough to have two beauties and I don't mind admitting that I'm very proud of them.

'Anyway, I took my raspberry nipples between my fingers and tweaked them up till they blushed a deep red and grew stiffly erect.

“By Gad!” said Cuthbert as I began to knead my firm, uptilted titties and then, planting my hands on my hips, shook my breasts at him energetically, trying hard not to giggle as I saw a huge swelling start to form in Cuthbert's lap. Then ever so slowly I began to pull down my knickers, wriggling round so that by the time I'd pulled them down I was facing the wall and he could see my bare bottom. “Oh my God, this is too much!” he cried out, and when I turned round, with my hand over my pussey, there was Cuthbert with his trousers ripped open, pulling out his thick, throbbing truncheon, the uncapped ruby dome bobbing gaily, as, panting with desire, he frenziedly frigged himself at a great pace. 'I thought that he would prefer me not to gawp at him whilst he brought himself off so I turned back and waggled my bum at him again. Then I gazed at him briefly over my shoulder and flashed him a smile as I parted my legs and bent forward with my arms dangling forward until my hands were almost touching the carpet. This way poor Cuthbert had an even more tantalising view of my firm, gleaming bum cheeks and the dark, secret cleft between them which even as he watched began to moisten with my tangy cunney juice.

'A strangled cry was enough to tell me that Cuthbert was shooting his load and sure enough I straightened up and looked back to see a tiny fountain of creamy white froth shoot out of the top of his twitching tool. 'I dropped to my knees to lap up his manly essence, as I adore the salty taste of hot, fresh jism but as I dived down a second burst of sperm jetted out of his cock straight into my right eye! “I would have preferred to have sucked you off,” I said to Cuthbert, and he looked sadly down at his shrivelling shaft and said that he would be very grateful if I would meet him in the library any time after noon as these days he wouldn't be able to raise another stand till around lunch-time.' This mention of luncheon reminded me that I had an appointment for which I was in grave danger of being late. I looked at my watch and asked Mary if we could continue this fascinating discussion in the library at around five o'clock. 'Oh yes, I'd love to, sir,' she replied promptly, picking up her box of cleaning materials. She then shot me a wicked little smile and added, That's on the understanding, of course, that we can have a nice snogging session as well.' I replied that this was a condition I was more than happy to accept. Then, after a quick wash and brush up, I went downstairs and Edwards confirmed that Harrods had delivered the flowers. After helping me on with my hat and coat he gave me the large, colourful bouquet of chrysanthemums before opening the front door. 'I expect to return home around three o'clock,' I informed him, and set off to walk round to Nancy Carrington's house. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, though it was still quite cold and I was glad that I had worn one of Mr. Rabinowitz's warm overcoats even for the short three minute journey to the far corner of Bedford Square.

Nancy Carrington's Negro butler must have seen me climb the short flight of steps for he opened the door before I had a chance to ring the bell. 'Good-afternoon, sir. It's Mr. Mountjoy, isn't it?' he said in a deep American-accented drawl. 'May I take your hat and coat? Miss Carrington is receiving her guests in the drawing-room.' I looked up at the tall, wide-shouldered man. He was a very handsome fellow of a light chocolate hue and, although his frizzy curly hair was jet black, his finely chiselled features suggested that he must have had at least one European grandparent. Presumably he is an old family retainer of Nancy's family, I thought to myself, as he opened the drawing-room door and announced my arrival to his mistress.

'Rupert, how super to see you-and what lovely flowers you've brought, you kind boy!' cried Nancy Carrington, who rose up from the sofa on which she had been sitting next to another extremely attractive, slightly older woman. 'I'm so pleased that you were able to join me for lunch today as I wanted you to meet a dear friend who I met in Paris earlier this year. Rupert, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to Countess Marussia of Samarkand. Marussia, this is my nice new neighbour Mr. Rupert Mountjoy.*Now I will have to ask the two of you to excuse me for a few moments as I have some last minute instructions for the kitchen staff.' As Nancy bustled out of the room I walked over and, taking the Countess's hand in my own, raised her fingers to my lips. 'Enchante, Comtesse,' I murmured. By George, she was a stunning lady, nearer thirty than twenty perhaps, with long reddish hair, a pale face, and big brown eyes. She was beautifully formed with high breasts, a lithe, slender body and then and there I would have wagered a thousand pounds that her long legs, hidden under her skirt, were as stylish as I expected. 'I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mountjoy,' said this delicious creature in a sensual low voice. 'Nancy tells me that you have recently graduated from Oxford University. Did you ever come across my cousin Celestine Dushanbe there by any chance?' Had I ever come across Celestine Dushanbe? How I wish I could have replied in the affirmative for Celestine was without doubt one of the prettiest, most desirable girls in the whole of Oxford and the surrounding county. Like many others, I had unsuccessfully sought her favours but these were only bestowed upon the Honourable Michael Bailey, the handsome captain of the University fencing team and (it was rumoured) the young Lord Arkleigh who travelled up to dine with her almost every weekend from his Hertfordshire estate. 'Alas, no,' I replied with a sad little smile. 'I know of her, of course, but she was always surrounded by a bevy of admirers.' 'I'm sure she was,' said Countess Marussia, returning my smile. 'Celestine threw herself into her work with great passion and like all dedicated students, she practised what she preached, though of course in Celestine's case she thoroughly enjoyed the experience.' 'Did she, Countess? Why, what was she studying?' I asked politely, but nearly fell over backwards when the Countess answered, 'Human sexuality. Dear Celestine was one of a small group of researchers working with Dr Trevor Tyler, the internationally noted specialist on masturbation, on his new book The Facts Of Life, a much needed book which will be published early next year by Messrs Dyott amp; Gradegate.'

'I must remember to order a copy from Hatchards,' I said, recovering my composure and adding (for I had decided that the Countess was obviously a fellow free spirit), 'although I would have thought that Fucking For Beginners by Nigel Andrews might have already covered this ground.' 'Not really,' said the Countess, shaking her head, 'because excellent as Dr Andrews' volume is for, say, newly married couples, it can only be bought sub rosa by enlightened people who have already shaken off the atmosphere of guilt, fear and ignorance about sex and subscribe to such journals as The Oyster or The Jenny Everleigh Diaries. 'Dr Tyler, on the other hand, is composing a manual for the complete relationship between the sexes, starting from the premise that though love-making is one of the few subjects in which we all have an interest, the understanding of many people of their bodies is frequently minimal. There is still a large body of opinion which treats sexual desire as a dangerous animal that has to be kept muzzled. At present, the few sex education books available prescribe abstinence and chastity-such hypocrisy when one considers the bedroom sport enjoyed by Society at country house parties and the laissez-faire attitude taken by your very own King Edward!' As I nodded my agreement, I gnawed at my lower lip as I recalled the one opportunity I had missed of getting closer to Celestine Dushanbe. I had noticed a small advertisement in the University weekly newspaper for volunteers to take part in scientific research. I had expressed a vague interest to a friend but had hastily abandoned the thought of replying to the box number when he had opined that in all probability the advertiser was looking out for people to test their new medical pills and potions. I confessed this foolish blunder to the Countess who laughed and said, 'I must tell you that I remember Celestine writing to me about why she had placed that particular advertisement. She was discussing the “doggie position” with Dr Tyler who had told her that some people frowned upon it as being too animalistic although anatomically it is a most natural position of sexual congress. 'But look, you can read Celestine's report for yourself. One of the reasons I am here is that both Nancy and I have been asked by Dr Tyler to make any suggestions about his manuscript as we are both self-proclaimed liberated ladies. We were reading the section of his book which deals with Celestine's appreciation of being taken from behind.' She got up and walked across to a paper strewn table, picked up a sheet and passed it to me, saying, 'Come and sit down and glance through this page. I would be most interested any comment you might have to make.' I obeyed and read the following from an essay on sexual positions by Dr Tyler: 'My colleague Miss C.D. tried out rear entry with her boy friend and writes, in her own uncensored words: “I placed myself on my hands and knees, bending forward and throwing up my bottom cheeks as high as possible. My lover inserted his penis and began working it in and out of my love channel. He pressed heavily against me but there was no problem in supporting his weight. Perhaps this was because I was on my hands and knees with my back and thigh muscles (the strongest in the body) working. “The experience was thoroughly enjoyable as both his hands were free to fondle my breasts, legs and buttocks and he could bring his fingers round to my front and play with my clitoris which afforded an additional pleasure.'” 'How very interesting,'

I observed as I passed the sheet back to the Countess. '“Doggie fashion” happens to be one of my personal favourites although I am sure there are many sexual positions about which I am completely ignorant.' 'Oh, come now,' she said roguishly. 'I am sure that a good-looking young fellow like you has experimented widely in this field. Mind, the Indian Kama Sutra lists more than twenty major positions for fucking though Trevor Tyler insists that in practice there are really only six and all the others are simply variants.'

She patted my thigh and was about to say more when Nancy flounced back into the room carrying my chrysanthemums in a crystal bowl.

'There, don't flowers brighten up the room?' she said brightly. 'Now I hope you two are getting on famously.' Indeed we are,' I replied, struggling up from the deep cushions of the sofa. The Countess has just been telling me about the proofs you are checking of Dr Trevor Tyler's wonderfully interesting new book.' 'Ah yes, I'm so pleased you approve, Rupert. So many people have hidebound attitudes to an activity without which, let's face it, the human race would cease to exist! Anyhow, luncheon is served so you will have to escort both Marussia and myself into the dining-room.' 'That will be my pleasure,' I said with a bow. So I walked into the dining-room with a lovely girl on each arm. The marvellous meal we ate testified to the wisdom of household cooks attending a course at Mrs. Bidder's Academy of Domestic Science. We dined sumptuously on Terrine d'aubergines et poivres rouges aux saveurs de Provence followed by a tasty filet de fletan roti sur aromates au fumet de fin rouge and as the main course succulent cotelettes d'agneau roties a la chapelure provencale et legumes d'ete finished off with assiette de fruits du moment au Sabayon de Kirsch et sorbet cassis. We were attentively served by Hutchinson, the Negro butler, Standlake, and two housemaids and we drank at least two bottles of a very smooth Chablis as Hutchinson was always on hand to ensure that our glasses were never empty. Then we returned to the drawing-room for petit fours and (in honour of Marussia) the Russe avec citron. By this time we were all slightly flushed and feeling very well disposed to each other. Indeed, Nancy's shiny blonde hair, which she had been wearing in rather severe brushed curls, now hung in long, silky strands down to her shoulders.

With Nancy in the middle we were all sitting on the luxuriously soft sofa when, after serving us glasses of hot lemon tea, Hutchinson left the room and closed the door behind him. Nancy squeezed both my hand and Marussia's and said, 'My dears, you must try some of the special thirty-year-old cognac I was given by Monsieur Istvan Tihanyi in Paris.' 'Not Monsieur Istvan Tihanyi who owns the dildo manufactory near Drancy?' said Marussia excitedly. 'Yes, the very same. Why, do you know him, Marussia?' 'Of course I do-Istvan has been a close friend for several years. Only last summer he fucked me beautifully after Senator Lipmann's Quatorze Juillet ball in Paris.

Nancy heaved herself up and walked to the sideboard and brought out the bottle and a silver tray with three balloon shaped brandy glasses placed upon it. She poured out generous measures of vintage cognac and Marussia suggested we drank a toast. To our charming hostess,' I suggested. Nancy thanked me and added, 'Coupled with the names of my two dear friends Marussia and Rupert.' We then drank a toast to Marussia's hero, Tamburlaine the Great, who in the fourteenth century had made Samarkand the chief economic and cultural centre of mid Asia. Then followed toasts to the United States of America, King Edward VII, Prince Adrian of the Netherlands (who often escorted the Countess on the Continent) and then to Monsieur Istvan Tihanyi's penis which the girls assured me was of heroic proportions. 'Nancy, how did you come to meet Istvan?' demanded Marussia. 'Did you meet him at his place of work?' 'Not at first,' answered Nancy. 'Our first meeting was at the Moulin Rouge where we were both guests at a party given by the American community in Paris to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of His Excellency, Mr. Barry Gray, our new Ambassador to France. Istvan and I began talking and I must say I was fascinated when he informed me of his business.' At this point I interrupted the conversation and said, 'Forgive me ladies, but I must confess ignorance of this gentleman and his work. Perhaps one of you could enlighten me.' 'Certainly, Rupert,' said Nancy cheerfully. Istvan Tihanyi owns an exclusive dildo factory patronised by the creme de la creme of European Society. His speciality is the production of ladies' comforters, individually made for clients based on the dimensions of the husband or lover as required.' How fascinating,' I commented, 'but I am rather surprised there is any demand for such artefacts.

Surely there is a sufficiency of living male members to satisfy any need?' Countess Marussia answered my question. 'Alas, no, for there are many women of the very highest standing in Society who are in great need of a good godemiches. To begin with, think of all the married women who cannot count on being regularly fucked by their husbands. For example, those married to men of business who have to be away from home, often for days on end. Then there are service wives who are often separated from their menfolk for months, and sometimes when these men return they are so fatigued from fighting that they are unable to resume their marital duties for a considerable while.

Finally, one must never forget those unfortunate ladies whose husbands are no longer capable of performing their conjugate for other reasons such as over-indulgence in imbibing, and those, such as dear Lady Bertha Bumble, who have been tragically widowed at an early age, though in her case of course, she has been consoled more than adequately by her brother-in-law, Lord Radlett, who fucks her every other Thursday afternoon whilst his wife plays bridge at the local Constitutional Club.' My hostess nodded her agreement and added, 'So you see, dear Rupert, there is a genuine and continuous demand for a discreet but effective substitute for a stiff, hard cock. Anyhow, many ladies commission a dildo of the same dimensions as a particularly well-loved prick and gentlemen being forced for one reason or another to leave their lovers, also contact him to produce a matching set of basin, ewer, soap dish and dildo for the boudoir.'

She stood up and went back to the sideboard from which she brought out a small silver box which she placed in my hands as she sat down again and said, 'After spending three nights of lusty abandon with Monsieur Tihanyi, I was thrilled to receive from him this charming momento of a glorious fuck.' I opened the box and looked down upon a superbly fashioned ceramic cock nestling on a small, plump velvet cushion. It was painted in pale blue and further decorated in a complicated yet somehow familiar design of maroon and gold diamonds and hoops. Nancy must have read my mind for she commented, 'You may recognise the pattern, Rupert, for these are Monsieur Tihanyi's racing colours.' This remark jogged my memory and I now recalled wildly cheering on the jockey who was wearing these selfsame colours as he won the Portnoy Stakes on a game little filly called Lady Norma at Goodwood the previous summer. It had truly been a glorious Goodwood as far as I was concerned for although the weather had not been as fine as usual, I had placed ten pounds each way on Lady Norma at odds of seven to one and later in the afternoon I accepted the invitation to mount Mrs. Chelmsford in a private tent whilst everyone else was watching the last race. 'It is certainly a very beautiful gift,'

I murmured softly, as I handed the box back to Nancy. 'And if, as you say, this dildo is modelled on his prick, Monsieur Tihanyi is certainly an extremely well-endowed gentleman though I am sure that even a superb dildo cannot match the feel of the genuine article.'

She smiled sweetly and said with a naughty gleam in her eyes, 'Oh, Rupert, I think you would be surprised how many ladies actually prefer the substitute to even the thickest, real live cock. After all, a dildo doesn't shoot off and go limp too quickly and one can finely tune the speed and force of entry to one's personal taste. Perhaps you would like to see for yourself how easily it can be used? I am sure Marussia would have no objection in helping me with a little demonstration.' 'It would be my pleasure,' said the Countess, rising from the sofa. 'Come, let us adjourn to the bedroom.' I followed the two women into Nancy's bedroom where I was invited to sit on a chair whilst they undressed. After kicking off their shoes they unbuttoned each other's blouses, and then, sitting on the bed, they unhinged their suspenders and peeled off their stockings, giggling merrily away as they saw my excited penis swell up to form a mountainous bulge in my lap. Now they embraced each other and whilst kissing passionately on the lips they pulled off their camisoles and lay back, entwined in each other's arms, wearing nothing but flimsy silk knickers which appeared to be of identical design.

Marussia noticed this as well and remarked, 'Ah, I see that you also patronise Madame Vazelina of Berwick Street, Soho for your underwear.'

'Yes, I am a regular patron,' replied Nancy, stroking her magnificently large creamy breasts which were tipped with delightfully rounded areolas and exquisitely fashioned nipples which were already pointing out so juicily that I longed to throw myself upon her and suck these gorgeous little red strawberries. But Countess Marussia's hands were now upon them and Nancy placed her palms on the other girl's bare breasts which, though not of her size, also jutted out proudly and were capped by equally large tawney stalks which were brought up to full erection by Nancy tweaking them between her long fingers. 'Help us off with our knickers, Rupert, there's a dear lad,' said Nancy, and the girls raised their bottoms invitingly as I walked over rather awkwardly, trying to shield my raging hard-on as I pulled down their remaining garments, though the sight of their nude pussies almost made me 'cream my jeans', as my Yankee pal Paul Mallock would have put it, then and there. I would have given anything to have sunk my throbbing tool into either Nancy's notch, which was delicately covered by a curtain of frizzy golden hair, or Marussia's pussey, which was more thickly masked by a thatch of reddish curls, but for the moment it was obvious that the presence of my cock would have been considered de trop, so I sat on the edge of the bed and relaxed as I watched the girls enjoy themselves together. Marussia's left hand continued to toy with Nancy's breast whilst her right hand slid down the American girl's snow white belly and into the mound of golden pussey hair through which I could now see the pouting lips of her cunney. I leaned forward to see Marussia's forefinger disappear between these lips and the girls exchanged a further series of voluptuous kisses until Marussia broke off the embrace to nuzzle her lips against one of Nancy's nipples, drawing it deep inside her eager mouth. Nancy gasped as Marussia, who was now firmly taking control of this tribadistic encounter, now had two of her fingers sliding in and out of Nancy's cunt, moving them so swiftly that they were almost vibrating. Her thumb skated rapidly back and forth over the protruding clitty and Nancy arched her back, squirming with delight as she jerked herself into a splendid little orgasm. Now it was Nancy's turn to repay her pretty bed-mate who turned her back on her, sliding her delicious bum cheeks on Nancy's dripping pussey. Nancy pushed her hips forward and the two rocked in rhythm as she caressed Marussia's breasts from behind, flicking up the large, tawny stalks to peak erection. Then she dipped a hand down to the Countess's bushy mons veneris, itself a shapely hillock of firm flesh, surmounted with its rich profusion of reddish curls. Her finger and thumb soon found the hardening clitty which popped out between Marussia's cunney lips and made her gasp, 'A-a-h-r-r-e! A-a-h-r-r-e! You clever girl, now please finish me off with your tongue and Monsieur Tihanyi's dildo, there's a dear.' Nancy slid out from under her and as she knelt between the other girl's long legs, she said, 'Mmmm, I can smell your juicy cunt from here, Marussia.' She lowered her head between her legs and began kissing her full, gorgeous pussey. I craned my head forward to see Nancy run her tongue along the full length of Marussia's parted cunney lips, stopping at the hardened little ball of her clitty which she gave her best attention, nibbling from side to side, up and down, as the Countess threw back her head and writhed with passion. 'Yes, yes! You're so good, Nancy. Keep sucking! Eat my pussey! Oh, how I adore it!' she cried, as Nancy's right hand snaked out, searching for the dildo. I aided her by opening the box and placing the instrument in her hand and gazed with increasing interest as Nancy now nudged the tip of dildo between the yielding lips of Marussia's cunt. Then she began fucking her in earnest with the superbly-fashioned dildo, sliding the thick china shaft in and out of her dripping honeypot.

'Further! Harder! Faster!' yelled out the Countess, as, with a final wrenching shudder, she gained her release, yelping with happiness as waves of ecstasy coursed through her body. They were both still so fired up from this fray that they squealed their approval as I began to tear off my clothes. As soon as I was stark naked I threw myself upon the bed, rolled the two squealing girls over on their sides so that their gorgeous bare bottoms were open to view. But how was I to solve the ticklish situation of which girl to fuck first?

As the snooker player said when presented with a choice of colours, I had to decide whether I should go for the pink or the brown! What a dilemma! I had no wish to cause offence so I was extremely relieved when Nancy called out, 'Marussia, as it was my idea to ask Rupert round this afternoon, I think this gives me the right to claim the first fuck.' Well, that solved the problem well enough so I took my meaty cock in my hand and pushed my stiff shaft in the smooth valley between the rounded cheeks of Nancy's arse and attempted to force a passage between them. 'Aaah! What a thick prick! But please don't go up my bum, Rupert, I would really prefer that hard hot cock in my cunney!' panted my kind hostess. I needed no further urging as Nancy lifted her bottom slightly to effect an easy lodgement for my pulsating prick which slid into her moist crack from behind with the utmost ease. I embedded my shaft almost up to the root until my belly was squeezed against her bum and lay still for a moment. At this juncture Marussia entered the fray and nestled her head on Nancy's bosom and began licking and lapping at her lovely erect titties whilst she frigged Nancy's clitty with one hand and her own clitty with the other. I now started to pump my trusty tool in and out of Nancy's squelchy love channel as Marussia continued to frig her from the front. It was all so exciting that I was spent far quicker than I would have liked, though I squirted so many jets of frothy white cream into Nancy's cunt that I could swear that I felt my balls lighten as the delicious thrills of my climax tingled throughout every inch of my perspiring body. I lay back, heaving with exhaustion, as Marussia now lifted her head from Nancy's titties and said to her, 'Well, darling, as you've now had the first fuck, I'm surely entitled to the first taste of Rupert's succulent chopper.' 'Of course you are, my love,' said Nancy generously, and in a trice, Marussia's hands were clamped around my semi-stiff shaft. 'But do allow me to assist you.' Nancy sat up and perched on my chest. I felt Marussia's lips envelop the tip of my cock as she began licking all round the edge of my knob. As she started to suck noisily on my now iron-hard stiffstander, Nancy moved up to place her pussey over my mouth so I could tongue her cunney. I sighed with delight as Marussia's wicked tongue now began to lap around the sensitive underside of my shaft, making it ache with unslaked lust. Now she sucked in my helmet, teasing my knob against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and in no time at all I felt the surge of a powerful spend making its way up from my ballsack. Marussia sensed this and withdrew her skilful tongue for a moment or two before returning to the attack as I continued to slide my tongue through the damp, blonde pussey hairs of Nancy's cunt, letting the tip of my tongue burrow between her pouting pink cunney lips. But when Marussia squeezed her hand round the base of my cock, sucking me harder and harder, I simply could no longer contain myself. My lusty love truncheon pulsed in her mouth as I let out a small cry and jetted spurt after spurt of creamy spunk inside her mouth. She gulped down every drop of my masculine essence and murmured with satisfaction as she licked the last drains from round the head of my gleaming prick which was only slowly losing its stiffness. All the while I was trying to stimulate Nancy into a spend by nibbling on her clitty and sliding my fingers in and out of her sopping slit. Alas, it was to no avail and the charming girl said regretfully, 'I don't think I can get there without a cock in my cunt.' Marussia immediately offered to frig her with Monsieur Tihanyi's dildo but then I offered my own organ because, if she could wait ten minutes or so for me to regain my strength, I would be delighted to fuck her again. 'Could you really do it again so soon, Rupert? My, you must have a superb constitution,' Nancy said excitedly with her bright blue eyes shining with lewd anticipation of a second sheathing of my stalk in her cunney. I swallowed hard and said with a small smile, 'Well, I can usually rise to the occasion three times without having to retire from the game. At school, when we used to play Mother Thumb and her Four Daughters in the dormitory, I could usually manage four spends with only a short break between them though Harry Barr, who is now the Rural Dean of Coketown, could sometimes come five or even six times virtually without stopping at all.' 'I would like to meet this gentleman,' said Marussia instantly, but I shook my head and said, “No, I don't believe you would, Countess. Most unfortunately, poor Harry became a confirmed homosexualist whilst studying for the priesthood and I shudder to think where he puts his prick these days.' 'What a waste,' sighed Marussia, as she took hold of my dangling shaft and idly began to rub it up and down in her clenched fist. To Nancy's and my great joy, Marussia's frigging was all my shaft needed to begin swelling up to its former glorious state and when it was standing as proudly high as before, Marussia relinquished her grip in favour of Nancy, who clutched my cock in her hand as she pulled my face towards hers and sank her naughty little tongue in my mouth. I stroked her damp blonde bush of pussey hair as she lay back and relaxed, her head supported by her hands whilst I clambered upon her without delay. Immediately she parted her legs to allow me to kneel in front of her open cunney and then Nancy took my rampant rod and guided it directly inside her wet, welcoming cunt. Although I was admittedly tired from our previous exploits, I think this was the best fuck of all. How exquisitely her velvet cunney walls clung to my cock as she sinuously moved her hips whilst I pistoned my prick up and down, my balls smacking lewdly against her backside with every forward thrust. I pounded in and out of her pussey, my hands gripping her firm, fleshy bum cheeks as we bounced up and down on the soft mattress. 'Oh Rupert, you lovely big-cocked boy! Fuck my juicy cunt with your thick prick!' she gasped, as I thrust home, sliding my shaft home in and out of her marvellous muff. Several times I thought I would spend before her but somehow I managed to hold back till she was ready for me. Again and again, faster and faster, I fucked the sweet girl until with a hoarse wail she achieved a tremendous climax, writhing uncontrollably as a multiple series of spends racked their way through her. As Nancy had orgasmed I pulled out my twitching tool and reared over her. I gripped my Cock and gave it two or three convulsive jerks until a huge fountain of salty sperm spouted out, arcing out towards her breasts, splashing her nipples, streaming down towards her belly button and into her soaking golden thatch. 'Oh how wonderful!' breathed Marussia, who had naturally been watching avidly, frigging herself unashamedly as she saw me rub the spunk around Nancy's erect nipples and all over her tummy. I moved over and squatted over Marussia with my bottom against her face as I leaned down and caressed her palpitating pussey with my tongue, licking up her tangy love juice, as she lifted her head and took my ballsack into her mouth, nibbling my balls through the hairy, wrinkled skin whilst I continued to stimulate her cunt, flicking my tongue in and out of her juicy love channel.

Now Nancy slid her head between my thigh and Marussia's body and began to gobble greedily on my glistening shaft which had miraculously still retained its stiffness (perhaps because I had not shot my total sticky load over Nancy's nipples). She moved round so that she could take my cock in her mouth and she sucked hard upon it, moving her lips from tip to balls and back again, faster and faster, intoxicated like Marussia and myself by the sheer ecstasy of this grand, uninhibited three-way fuck. My prick pulsed against the back of her throat, releasing a further frothy flood of hot jism and she greedily swallowed all my creamy emission as Marussia also spent, filling my mouth with her aromatic love juices, which I also gulped down, as together the three of us ran the course to a complete and totally satisfying fulfillment. We lay quietly for a few minutes and Marussia asked Nancy and myself if we had planned to go up to Scotland for the rest of the season.*My companion Prince Adrian of the Netherlands has taken over a house in the Highlands,' she told us, 'and you'd both be very welcome to join us. You'd be sure to flush out many a gamecock from its covert, Nancy, whilst you, Rupert, would certainly enjoy our rather eccentric version of the Highland Fling let alone the complex routines of our all-nude eightsome reel.' 'I'm sure I would love it,' I said politely, 'But alas, my engagement book is full until the New Year.' She was about to reply when suddenly Marussia's body stiffened and she said in an urgent, worried voice, Hold on a moment, I am sure I heard someone coming.' 'It could be any one of us,' I said wittily. 'No, I mean I thought I heard someone enter the room,' she continued, with a startled look on her face. Nancy looked across at her and kissed her engorged nipple.

'Don't worry, that will only be Standlake the butler. Whenever I take any guests into the bedroom, he usually comes in after an appropriate length of time to see whether his services are required-either for myself or any other girl who might fancy being fucked by his big black cock.' 'I think I'll pass up the opportunity at present,' said Marussia thoughtfully, 'though I must say that I have always wondered whether the tales I have heard about Negro prowess and the size of their equipment should be taken with a pinch of salt.' 'Well, I'm no expert on the subject,' replied Nancy, 'but those of my girl friends who have sampled the delights afforded by Standlake's dark, thick tool have been unanimous in their praise of both its dimensions and the way he uses it, which of course is far more important, for, as we say back home, it isn't the size of the ship that counts, it's the motion of the ocean.' 'Still, I would have been most interested to see Standlake in action,' mused Marussia. 'Is there no other way we could see him fuck? Surely he must have some admirers amongst your female staff?' Nancy clapped her hands in delight. 'Yes, of course, that's the answer-unless Rupert here wishes to take part in a-' Here I hastened to say that whilst, like the vast majority of public school chaps, I and my best chums Frank Folkestone and Prince Salman of Lockshenstan, had fiddled around with each other after 'lights out' in the dorm, these juvenile experiments were now way behind me. Also, I added, that whilst I had nothing against homosexualists who could do to each other whatever they wished in the privacy of their own homes, frankly, the mere thought of having any prick (let alone a big black one) rammed up my arse was utterly abhorrent to me. 'Don't worry, Rupert, I don't think Standlake is that way inclined either,' Nancy reassured me with a smile. 'Leave this affair to me.' She called the butler on the house telephone and asked him if he would kindly arrange to fuck one of the maids in his bedroom whilst Countess Marussia and I watched. I could not hear his reply but Nancy nodded her head as she said, 'Yes? Very good, then, we'll go up to Lucy's room in ten minutes.' Nancy provided us with white towelling robes to slip on and the three of us made our way back to the drawing-room where we refreshed ourselves with tall glasses of ice cold lemonade which Standlake had thoughtfully left on the sideboard. Then, hardly able to contain our excitement, we went upstairs to Lucy's room which was directly above Nancy's bedroom. When we arrived on the top floor Nancy knocked at the door and her personal maid called out, 'Do come in, everyone, the door is open.'

Standlake and Lucy were already in bed, covered by a sheet but Lucy sat up as Nancy introduced Marussia and myself and we sat down on three chairs that Lucy had placed between the window and the foot of the bed. She was, I must record, a not unattractive girl of some twenty-five years, slightly on the plump side perhaps but blessed with extremely large breasts topped by equally large areoles and rich red nipples which were exposed as she jumped out of bed to greet us. Her mound was covered by a thick profusion of light brown curls and the swelling lips were already pouting most deliriously, the glowing red chink indicating that in all probability Standlake had been frigging her before we arrived. 'Are you ready for me, Philip?' she asked the handsome black man, who grinned, showing two even rows of sparkling white teeth, as he said, 'I should say so, you lucky girl,' and he pointed to the sheet covered peak between his legs. Lucy smacked her lips and threw back the sheet to reveal his naked torso to us. There was a momentary silence and then I heard Marussia gasp in awe at the sight of Standlake's magnificent nude body and I could well understand her admiration for his superb physique. Standlake was, as aforesaid, a handsome fellow, and the muscles fairly rippled as he drew breath and expanded his broad chest. His torso narrowed down to a flat stomach and narrow hips and, as he turned to embrace Lucy, I had also to admire his lean muscular flanks. When he turned back I also gasped with wonder as we caught sight of his heavy, dangling cock which was of such a thickness that I do not believe I have seen before or since. Marussia was similarly struck by the size of the black butler's boner for the Countess whispered to our hostess, 'My God, Nancy! What an enormous prick! Doesn't the very thought of sucking that huge penis make your mouth water?' And then turning to the girl on the bed whose hands were already encircling this fast-swelling monster, Marussia added, 'You are a lucky girl, Lucy. I just hope he doesn't stretch your cunney too much with that giant truncheon.'

'No fear of that, madam, it's only if I take too much of Philip's cock in my mouth that I have any problems, I just can't take it all in without gagging,' said Lucy cheerfully as she leaned over and prepared to begin the demonstration. She took the butler's pulsating dark knob between her lips, jamming down the foreskin and lashing her tongue around the rigid shaft. Then she sucked hard, and amazingly she was able to take about a third of Standlake's extraordinarily thick cock (which at a later date Nancy measured as having a five-and-a-half-inch girth and being fractionally over ten-and-quarter-inches in length) into her mouth whilst her hands toyed with his hanging, heavy balls.

The aroused girl now started to lick this giant dark lollipop, drawing her hot, wet tongue from his ballsack right up to the top of his shaft, fluttering briefly around the uncapped helmet. He clutched at her hair and emitted a low guttural murmur as she circled her tongue all round the fleshy dome of his knob, paying particular attention, I noted, to the especially sensitive underside. Then Lucy removed her hands and, clasping them behind her back, she sucked up almost the entire length of Standlake's black prick almost down to the root. This caused the well endowed, handsome Negro to writhe and jerk under this oral stimulation as Lucy sucked up and down his tremendous tadger with noisy abandon. And the clever way she managed to keep her head bobbing up and down without using her hands to steady his twitching tool brought a spontaneous round of applause from Nancy and Marussia, who were still marveling at the dimensions of Standlake's glistening, veiny boner. Lucy was obviously enjoying herself for now she transferred her hands back to the front, one clasped as far as her fingers would stretch around Standlake's cock and with the other she was busy diddling herself, rubbing her clitty as she continued to suck on the great stiff staff held lightly between her teeth. By now we had all reached a fever pitch of excitement and Nancy was now smoothing her left arm across Marussia's crotch whilst the Countess repaid the compliment by moving her own left hand across to stroke Nancy's breasts. At the same time Nancy reached out with her right hand and with a little help from yours truly, had managed to unbutton my trousers and taken out my own not inconsiderable shaft and her fingers were busying themselves sliding up and down my shiny staff. Back on the bed, Standlake now had Lucy's head in his hands and was jamming her lips round his cock and I could see that very shortly she would be sucking up all the semen out of his tight, firm balls. In fact, it was only a matter of seconds before the tell-tale quivers and contractions began and Lucy pushed up her head for a moment to allow us to view a great wash of white jism come jetting out of the top of his cock. She slurped up this flood of spunk with evident enthusiasm but to my astonishment, Standlake's proud prick stood as stiff, hard and strong as before he had shot his load! Indeed, the butler now took control and he leaned forward, his thick lips seeing and finding one of Lucy's engorged nipples, as she now spread herself flat on her back. Once the first tittie had been drawn out to stand up like a little red tap he sucked up the other to a quivering peak of rubbery flesh. Lucy trembled as Standlake moved over her and guided his throbbing tool towards her juicy honeypot and she opened her mouth to take his tongue deep between her moist lips as he now placed his knob at the entrance of her cunney and she pulled her pussey lips apart to widen the entrance for his enormous cock. I gazed intently as he pushed his prick firmly forward and saw his gleaming pole disappear inch by inch inside Lucy's love channel. Then he began to move it in and out in full yet gentle thrusts as he again attacked her pert little nipples that were standing up, simply begging to be flicked by his long, tapering fingers. To my surprise, Standlake then pulled completely out of her cunney, his black pole gleaming with its coating of pussey juice. But the respite for Lucy's cunt was only temporary-first he lightly traced the open wet crack with his fingertips, flicking the erect clitty that was peeping out at the top, and then he thrust his knob back between those pink, pouting lips and Lucy moaned with delight as he propelled inch after inch of his thick chopper until his rough pubic curls and her muff of smoother pussey hair were matted together. He pulled back until only his knob was inside her juicy love-channel and then drove the full length of his massive shaft full inside the trembling girl as she urged him on and he quickly established a powerful rhythm whilst Lucy closed her feet together at the small of his back to force even more of that huge stiffstander inside her. Standlake was now panting with exertion as he rammed his cock in and out of her cunney, his lean black body rocking backwards and forwards between her creamy spread thighs. Lucy was spending as Standlake fucked her for she raked his back with her fingernails as she shuddered with the voluptuous sensations afforded by his thick prick in her voracious cunt. He pumped faster and faster and we three spectators were on our feet, with Nancy's hand still tightly gripped round my own throbbing tool, as we cheered him on. What made the finale even more exciting for us was that Lucy had not been able to find any linseed oil for her douche so at the very final stage he withdrew and shot a flood of creamy white spunk all over her belly just as Nancy's frigging brought me off and my cock ejaculated an arcing fountain of jism over Stand-lake's dimpled buttocks. In fact, I was somewhat concerned, when the butler rolled off the sated girl and lay on his back to recover his senses, that some of my spunk stained the crisp, white sheet. However, when I pointed this out to Nancy she told me not to worry as the cotton was already soaked with Lucy's love juices as well as perspiration from both of the lovers. 'Anyhow, Rupert,' she remarked gaily, 'spunk stains cause no problem if a small amount of Mr.

Maxwell's Special Compound is used-it is guaranteed to remove all blemishes. We buy a large bottle every month for as you have seen, my friends and I are extremely fond of fucking.' Countess Marussia looked at her jewel-encrusted pocket watch and said, 'Dear Nancy, I really must be going – I am already late for Lady Suffield's tea party. Thank you so much, my darling, for a divine lunch and a wonderful fuck-for which I must also thank you, Rupert. It was a pleasure meeting you and your nice cock.' The pleasure was mine, simpatichnaya jenshina,' I replied, bowing low to kiss the Countess's offered hand and using the few words of Russian I remembered from the lessons given me by Dr John O'Connor, the languages master at St Lionel's, one of the most brilliant linguists in England, who was fluent in French, German, Polish, Russian, Turkish and Arabic. Indeed, if Dr O'Connor had not been caught in flagrante delicto with the twin eighteen-year-old daughters of a senior Foreign Office official, he would undoubtedly have enjoyed a distinguished career in the diplomatic service instead of having to earn his daily bread as a humble pedagogue at a minor public school. 'You speak Russian, Rupert? Is there no end to your accomplishments?' laughed Marussia.

'You must take my card. Please call upon me at any time, especially when my consort. Prince Adrian, is back in Amsterdam performing his royal duties.' We thanked Standlake and Lucy for their wonderful performance and made our way down to the drawing-room. But I stopped at the foot of the stairs and said, 'Nancy, would you object if I popped back upstairs and presented your servants with a small token or our appreciation? After all, they did afford us some excellent sport.'

'By all means,' she replied. I am sure they will be far from offended by such a generous gesture.' 'I climbed back up the stairs and as the door of Lucy's room was slightly ajar, I simply strode in. Standlake had already left to shower and change in his own quarters, but Lucy was still lying naked on the sheets, her hands under her head, with a blissful smile of contentment on her pretty face. 'Ah, Lucy, I wanted a quick word,' I said, shutting the door behind me and taking two gold sovereigns out of my pocket. 'On behalf of Countess Marussia and myself, I would like to give you and Standlake a well deserved little present.' Her eyes lit up as I placed the coins on her bedside table. Thank you, sir,' she said, glancing across at the coins and when she saw the glint of gold her eyes sparkled and she sat up and exclaimed, 'Oh, that really is kind of you, sir! I'll give Philip his share later this afternoon.' I was about to leave when the luscious nude girl called me back. 'Must you go, sir? I'd very much like to give you something in return for your generosity.' Perhaps I was naive but I honestly didn't know what she had in mind until she crooked her finger and motioned me back to sit next to her on the bed. 'Did you notice the enormous size of Philip's cock, sir?' she asked with a sly smile. “Yes, I must say that I did, and like most men I was very envious of his tremendous tadger,' I said. This reply made Lucy hold up her hand and say, 'Ah, but honestly, size isn't everything, though I know that all boys would like bigger pricks just as all girls would like an extra few inches on our busts. Now I won't deny that Philip's big stiffie really fills my cunney up a treat but I've known men with much smaller cocks who can bring me off just as well. Lord Hammersmith, for example, is a wonderful lover oven though I don't think his bell end is much more than half the size of Philip's-but he reams me out beautifully and his spunk has a fresher, less salty taste too. 'I saw the mistress wanking your cock whilst Philip was fucking me, sir, and I thought that your cock looked very nice. Would you mind if I had a closer look at it?' 'Not in the slightest,' I said, hastily unbuttoning my trousers and pulling out my dangling shaft, but as you can see, I am afraid that it's a little bit down in the dumps.' Lucy clasped my stalk in her fingers and said softly, 'Dear me, we can't let Mr. John Thomas stay in this sad state, that's for sure.' She moved herself across and leaned down to place her head on my thigh as I pulled down my trousers and drawers to my ankles. She eyed my cock critically and then moved her hand to pull down the foreskin and expose the naked red bulb of my knob. Her tongue flashed out and slicked across the smooth skin of my uncapped helmet which set my cock swelling up within seconds! She continued to frig me as she wet her tongue against her lush red lips and then took my knob fully inside her mouth, sucking with gusto as my tool throbbed with pleasure. Sensing that this intense activity would make me spend too soon, she ceased sucking and instead dived her head down to plant a light series of tiny butterfly kisses up and down the stem, encompassing my balls and running beyond to that too often neglected area between the ballsack and arse-hole. She followed this delightful oral massage with some sharp licks on my now bursting shaft and then thrust my trusty tool in and out of her mouth in a quickening rhythm, deep into her throat and then out again with her pink tongue lapping my helmet at the end of each stroke, soaking up the drops of thick liquid which were already forming at the 'eye' on top of my knob. In vain I tried to prolong the delicious pleasure but Lucy's lascivious sucking was simply too powerful to resist and I could not prevent the sperm that had boiled up inside my balls spurting up my stem and crashing out of my pulsating prick. I pumped a thick, creamy emission of jism inside her mouth which she swallowed with evident delight, smacking her lips as she happily gulped down the last dregs of spunk from my fast-deflating cock. 'Was that nice?' she enquired somewhat unnecessarily. I nodded my head and panted my agreement, 'Lucy, that was a truly splendid sucking-off. Do you know, I've often wondered whether girls can learn how to suck a stiff cock or whether it is simply an inbred ability.' 'I don't really know,' she said, considering my question thoughtfully. 'Perhaps it's something to do with the first time a girl ever takes a cock in her mouth. I remember my introduction to, what's the posh word for it, sir? 'Fellatio, Lucy,' I answered, as I stole a quick look at my watch. She must have seen me do so for she continued, 'Oh, please don't go yet, sir.

For a start, the mistress will be engaged with Standlake for at least another ten minutes and I'm sure she'd want to say good-bye to you before you leave.' 'Jolly good, then I'll gladly stay and listen to you.' I said, snuggling myself on the bed next to her as she lay with her head on my shoulder and her fingers still toying with my limp shaft. 'Well, it all began three years ago when I left school and took up service in Lord and Lady Jackson's house in Grosvenor Street.

It was a very happy household but when her son Terence came back home from Cambridge University for the Christmas holidays, I was silly enough to become intimately involved with him. 'He was a nice, good-looking boy and from the moment he first saw me I could tell that he was as attracted to me as I was to him. Well, it all started one evening when the master and mistress were out at one of Sir Barry Gray's literary soirees in Chelsea. Terry's sister was also out so I knew that he would be alone in the sitting-room. So I marched in there after supper on the pretence of tidying up the newspapers and changing the ashtrays as Lord Jackson smokes those big Cuban cigars. Terry was sitting in an armchair reading the evening paper but I could see him eyeing me over the top of the page as I leaned down in front of him to see if the ashtray on the side table needed emptying. I was wearing a frilly white blouse and I had purposely undone the top two buttons so that the swell of my breasts must have been visible to him. I knew that he would have loved to feel them but, being a polite young gentleman, needed some sign of encouragement before even speaking to me. 'So I deliberately emptied a few grains of cigar ash on his trousers! “Oh, I am sorry. Master Terence, here, I'll brush it off for you,” I said, and started to flick away the ash which had landed on his thigh. 'We began to talk and one thing led to another and after about ten minutes I found myself sitting on his lap with my head resting lightly on his shoulder. I was still unsure how to react but then Terry suddenly turned my face up to his and kissed me passionately on the lips.

'I felt a sudden tingling rush of excitement surge through me. There was something so special about his kiss that it made it impossible for me not to respond. His hand slipped down from my shoulder to down underneath my arm and then I felt his fingers close gently over my breast whilst at the same time his tongue sank inside my mouth and his other hand began stroking my thigh under the hem of my skirt.

'Now everything was happening so fast that I didn't even consider trying to resist these unexpected advances. I just sat cuddling him, soaking up the lovely sensations of his kisses and his touches. 'His hand soon reached the top of my legs and his thumb began a delicious stroking of my pussey as I pressed my lips even more firmly against his and his fingers now probed downwards and rubbed against my dampening crack. He then started to tug at my knickers and I lifted my bum off his thighs to allow him to pull them right off.

Then I felt my whole body vibrate with pleasure as his thumb rubbed against my clitty and I held on to him as tightly as I could. At that moment, I think we both knew for sure that we wanted to fuck, but as I said, Terry Jackson was a real gentleman because he whispered, “Lucy, before we reach the point of no return, are you certain that you want to make this journey?” 'He need have had no fear for I would have been glad and willing to let him do anything he wanted with my curvy young body. So I simply whimpered when Terry stopped fondling my titties but began undoing the rest of the buttons on my blouse. He slipped it off me completely and then unhooked my chemise and I raised my arms so that he could pull it up and over my shoulders. Now his hands ran firmly over my bare breasts, tracing circles around my stiffening nipples with the tips of his fingers. Then he lowered his head and took one of my erect titties in his mouth and the wet friction of his tongue made it tingle with delight as he sucked it firm and deep between his lips. 'My skirt was next to come off and I was now naked except for my stockings which were held up by two frilly garters. I trembled with desire as he passed a hand over my hairy muff and my cunney was fairly aching for more attention. Yet he still did not attempt to proceed further and it suddenly struck me that Terry might be concerned that I was a virgin! So I nibbled his ear and whispered, “Don't be worried about deflowering me, Master Terry, because in South London where I come from, I don't think there's a girl over sixteen who hasn't had a cock in her cunney at some time or another.” “This did the trick and I helped him undress until he stood naked in front of me with his thick, stiff cock standing high against his tummy. He stretched me out on the big settee and knelt alongside, kissing my breasts and belly and running his hands up and down my thighs. My excitement grew stronger and stronger and I lovingly clutched at his head of curly brown hair, moaning my approval as he now pressed his mouth onto my bushy mound. The sensation of his moist lips felt truly heavenly and when I felt his tongue starting to wash its way around my ditty, I almost fainted away with the sheer ecstasy of the wonderful waves of pleasure which emanated from my cunt and coursed their way through my body. I pushed my pussey up against Terry's face and parted my legs as he now licked even harder at my clitty and at the same time began to prise open my cunney lips with his fingers. He sank his forefinger slowly into my sopping slit, making me gasp as he eased a second and then a third digit deeper and deeper inside my love channel. 'Although I'd been fucked by Mr. Hollingberry, our next door neighbour, and by Charlie Haynes and Tim Hutchinson, two boys who lived in the next street, Terry Jackson's wicked tongue and clever fingers were thrilling me like I'd never been thrilled before. My clitty was buzzing with a marvellous feeling which I never before experienced. He twisted his fingers round as he now thrust four fingers in and out of my dripping cunney which made the buzz feel more and more wonderful as he finger fucked me up towards a spend. He realised that my climax was approaching when I began to quiver because he licked harder than ever at my clitty and his fingers raced faster and faster out of my sopping honeypot. When I felt myself on the verge of spending my body jerked wildly but he held his head firmly against my cunney whilst I squeezed my nipples and drummed my feet against the cushions. The fabulous pressure of Terry's tongue and fingers kept me at the peak of pleasure for what seemed an incredibly long time-and even when my orgasm finally subsided, I was still feeling very fruity and eager to continue. More than anything, though, I wanted to repay Terry for the gorgeous time he had given me. 'So I urged him to change places and to lie on his back on the settee and I knelt between his legs. His throbbing cock stood up like a flagpole between his thighs and I grasped it with the intention of spitting myself upon the smooth, pink mushroomed knob. But then I remembered that it was not the most propitious time of the month for fucking and anyway I had nothing in my room with which to douche. With a crestfallen look on my face I told him that perhaps I shouldn't let him fuck me after all-this was a terrible thing to have to say for after what had just gone on it was like leading a man dying of thirst in the desert to an oasis and then as he was about to drink warning him that the water was poisoned! 'But Terry did not show any great irritation with me. He simply stroked my hair and said, “Don't worry, Lucy, I'll be just as happy if you'll suck my cock instead.” '“Of course I will,” I said, not wanting to let him know that I had never taken a prick in my mouth before this time. But I'd heard all about how men love being brought off this way and my friend Nellie had told me about how nice it was to lick and lap at a thick prick and how clean and fresh spunk tasted.

“It can't get your belly up either, my girl,” she had also told me, which was certainly an added attraction as far as I was concerned.

'Nevertheless, the question was whether I would be able to do it well enough for Terry. Now of course, I knew how men liked to be tossed off, and my boy friends had all said that I was very good at giving them hand-jobs, if you'll forgive the expression, sir.

'Anyway, I decided to have a go, and I held the thick base of Terry's prick with one hand and rubbed his shaft up and down with the other as I leaned down and nervously flicked my tongue over the smooth dome of his uncapped helmet. He groaned and lay back with his eyes tightly closed as I repeated this sensual experiment. I must say that I found the sensation of licking his cock much nicer than I'd expected and I could tell from his throbbing tool and his heavy breathing that I must be doing it well. 'Now I gradually eased the crown of his cock into my mouth, nibbling the hot, smooth pole and sucking harder as I moved my hand which had been clutching his shaft downwards to caress his hairy ballsack. I pushed in as much of his thick, rigid rod as I could and for the very first time, sucked and slurped at this lewd lollipop. Terry stretched out his arm and began to frig my cunney as his prick began to twitch and I guessed that the spunk would soon be spouting out. Then with a cry he filled my mouth with a gorgeous spray of frothy warm jism and his shaft bucked wildly as I gulped down all the creamy liquor, which tasted slightly salty but was as pleasant and refreshing to drink as Nellie had told me. I gobbled his jerking prick, rather noisily sucking out every last milky drop of sperm, as Terry's fingers now helped bring me to another voluptuous spend.

'“Was that good for you?” I enquired anxiously, and he smiled up at me. “Lucy, that was truly wonderful,” he murmured softly, and would have undoubtedly said more when we heard a ring on the front door bell. I grabbed my clothes and rushed out into the hall and fled upstairs to my room. In fact, the unexpected visitor was only Arthur Barker, an old chum of Terry's who undoubtedly would have loved to have looked on or better still joined in the canoodling. I did come down later at Terry's request and we did enjoy a romp with Arthur along with Jemima, the scullery maid. But that is another story.'

I looked at my watch again and said, 'Lucy, thank you very much for your entertaining little anecdote, but I really must be leaving.

Do you think Miss Carrington has finished with Standlake yet?' 'I would imagine so, sir, for as Miss Nancy told me recently, she finds his oversized shaft uncomfortable if it stays too long in her cunney.'

That doesn't surprise me,' I declared as I began to dress.

'Another time perhaps, you will be able to demonstrate your skills as a fellatrice to me.' Her eyes sparkled as she nodded her head and said, 'I'd love to, Mr. Mountjoy. Bring a friend along and I'll show you how I can suck two cocks at once-so long as your friend doesn't have such a giant prick as Standlake!' I made a mental note of her promise and chuckled as I realised that her caveat would rule out my oldest chum Frank Folkestone of whom I had frankly always been a mite jealous as his chopper was by far the biggest amongst all the boys at St Lionel's Academy for the Sons of Gentlefolk. It would be an admittedly malicious pleasure to call Frank and tell him sadly that his tool was too large to be sucked off along with my own by this randy young minx. I bid Lucy good-afternoon and met Nancy at the foot of the stairs. Her face was flushed, her chest was heaving and her clothes were somewhat dishevelled, but she smiled broadly at me and gasped, 'Ah, Rupert, you're just the man I need. Would you allow me to lean on your shoulder as we walk to the drawing-room? I've been really well fucked by Standlake, but I need to lie down for half an hour.' 'Of course,' I said, preferring my arm which she took in her hands. 'I have also been entertained very nicely by Lucy although I was frankly hors de combat. But though I didn't fuck her she told me a lively tale which I will set down in my diary as soon as I get home.

'Nancy, thank you once again for a delicious luncheon and for our post-prandial fun and games. I will telephone you this evening once I have checked my diary and I do hope that you will allow me to return your hospitality.' We reached the drawing-room and I helped her onto the sofa. 'Phew, that's better,' she exclaimed with a heavy sigh.

'I'll be walking bandy-legged this evening, but I will have no-one but myself to blame. I know I really shouldn't take in Standlake's huge tool after being fucked by another man but my blood was up and as Oscar Wilde said, I can resist anything except temptation! 'Rupert, my dear, I look forward to your call. I am dining with Mr. Home of The Grove Gallery this evening at Romano's so would you telephone before seven o'clock?' 'Yes, I'll call in an hour or so. But how strange you should be meeting Mr. Horne tonight. I happened to meet him only last week at my Club where he gave a talk on these new French painters, the post-impressionists, he called them, who have been creating quite a stir on the Continent. Are you in the market for some pictures, Nancy?' 'In a manner of speaking,' she answered, settling herself down on the sofa. 'My father is a keen collector and he has telegraphed five thousand dollars to my bank account in London so I should be able to buy anything that I think he would like.' 'No wonder Garry Home is taking you out to dinner!'

I laughed, as Standlake now appeared with my hat and coat. 'But if you really are looking for some worthwhile paintings, Nancy, I would very much like to show you some work by a very good friend of mine, who used to live very near my own Yorkshire home.' Then I explained to her about my involvement with Diana Wigmore. I finished by saying that Diana was corning back to England shortly for the important reception given by the local big wigs for the King. Then I had a brainwave and I said, 'Nancy, why not come to York with me and meet Diana for yourself? She has a wide selection of her work at her parents' home and I will telegraph her and tell her to bring some of her latest pictures back with her from Paris. 'You'll stay at Albion Towers, our family seat, of course, and there will be no problem arranging an invitation for you to the party to meet His Majesty. My father is an old chum of the Deputy Lord Lieutenant of the County who is in charge of the whole affair.' Like all Americans, Nancy was fascinated by royalty and she clapped her hands in delight.

'Gosh, you mean I might meet King Edward himself?' she said excitedly.

'Sure, I'd love to go up to York with you -but I insist on buying the train tickets, especially if I'm to stay at your house. No, Rupert, I won't have it any other way. You have to live on the allowance your Uncle Humphrey has generously set aside for you whilst I have more money than I know what to do with. Anyhow, Papa can probably use the receipts to offset against his income tax. So when you telephone me in about an hour, give me all the details of the trip.' I kissed her good-bye and supped on my hat and coat which Standlake had been patiently holding in his hands. I walked briskly across the Square and as soon as I was home I wrote out a telegraph to Diana telling her that I would definitely be going to York and that I was also writing to her about my plans. Then I scrawled a letter to my father to say that I would come up for the party and that I would be bringing a guest. Miss Nancy Carrington, with me, falsely adding that the relationship between us was strictly platonic because I did not want my Mama to start hearing marriage bells. Edwards came into the drawing room with a copy of the evening newspaper and I gave him instructions to telegraph my message to Diana immediately and to post my letter to my father. I settled down to read my newspaper but was interrupted by a knock on the door. 'Come in,' I called, and Mary, the pretty maid I had bum-fucked before luncheon, came in and said in a timid voice, 'I'm sorry to trouble you, sir, but I wondered if you would like to have me again this evening. It's my night off and I've nothing to do and nowhere to go.' 'Dear, dear, that's a sorry state of affairs,' I said, folding the paper, and looking up at the demure girl who was standing with her eyes cast down modestly to the floor. Though I must say, Mary, how surprised I am that an attractive girl like you hasn't any followers.' Her face coloured a pretty shade of pink as she said, To be honest, Mr. Mountjoy, I was going to the music hall with PC Shackleton, but he's been told he has to work an extra shift as three constables at his station are ill with influenza.' 'A policeman's lot is not a happy one,' I said sympathetically, as I hummed the eponymous chorus from the Gilbert and Sullivan opera. 'Still, his loss is my gain. I'd be happy to take you to the music hall, Mary. Where did you want to go?' The Alhambra Theatre. Fred Karno's topping the bill,' she said, her face brightening up and her eyes sparkling as she added, 'Oh, you are a kind gentleman, sir.' It was my turn to blush, for my motives were hardly as pure as the driven snow! Although I had already enjoyed what some may call a surfeit of fucking that day, I was never one to turn down the chance of a further frolic. So I said to her, 'It might be a little awkward if we leave the house together, Mary. Why don't we meet at the corner of Gower Street at six o'clock. We'll take in the first house and then we'll have a bite of supper at my Club. But not a word about this to Mrs. Harrow or any of the other staff-it'll be our little secret.' 'I won't say a word to anyone, cross my heart,' promised Mary, and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before happily scurrying out back to her room. I grinned as I scoured the sports page of the newspaper. To my great joy I read that Fairbridge's Organ had skated home at eight to one in the two o'clock race at Doncaster. Old Goldhill, our family servant back at Albion Towers, who was a keen follower of the sport of kings, had written to me about this horse which was raining today in preparation for the Royal Hunt Cup. I had staked a fiver with my Club's head porter who acted as our unofficial bookmaker, so my evening out with Mary would now be doubly pleasing: I could pick up my winnings when we dined at the Jim Jam after the theatre. A seraphic smile creased my lips as it occurred to me that I could fairly claim, after my fol-de-rols with Countess Marussia, a place to ride in the Royal Hunt Cup! Anyway, I managed to take a quick nap before Edwards brought me tea and sandwiches and after refreshing myself (fucking always gives me an appetite-despite the ample luncheon I was still able to scoff a couple of sandwiches and a pastry), I telephoned Nancy Carrington and we finalised arrangements to go up to York. I also invited her to dine with me next Wednesday evening along with Michael Reynolds, one of my favourite cousins, who being a year older than myself, was already beavering away in his third year as a medical student at the Royal Free Hospital up in Hampstead. Michael was a lusty lad who would appreciate Nancy's liking for free love and I was sure that the girl he was bringing along-a most attractive petite Portuguese girl named Sheila de Souza, whose soft feminine curves and flashing, lustrous eyes turned men's heads as she walked down the street-would be similarly broad-minded. There was barely time to shave, shower and change my clothes but at six o'clock on the dot, I carefully descended the front door steps and walked purposefully towards the corner of Bedford Square and Gower Street where I could see Mary was already waiting for me. Suddenly, the stern words uttered by my father in a private man-to-man talk shortly after my sixteenth birthday crossed my mind. One must never be too intimate with the servants, he had admonished me after seeing Polly the chambermaid leaving my room looking flustered and breathing hard as if she had been running a race-as well she might, incidentally, because the lusty young lass had just ridden a vigorous St George on my stiff cock till I had ejaculated a copious emission of jism up her clinging cunney! My father had gone on to warn me that my behaviour would be bound to lead to problems when the relationship ended, and to be fair, the pater's advice was sensible enough. After all, though I would never simply turn out a girl who became troublesome (especially if she was enceinte), on the other hand, as my Indian pal, Prince Salman, used to say, why make problems for yourself in your own home? But when I caught sight of Mary's pretty face, all thoughts of caution were thrown to the wind. Taking a deep breath, I marched on, and she ran towards me and lifted up her face to be kissed. Arm in arm, we walked down towards Great Russell Street where I hailed a taxi-cab and told the driver to speed us post haste to the Alhambra Theatre.