Anonymous - The Oyster Volume VI

Before I recount my naught adventure with Willie Bucknall, let me tell you that he is forty-four-more than twice my age-and is thus the oldest gentleman ever to have poked me. But believe me, dear Andrew, I can now say from experience that there is much truth in the saying about how the best tunes are played on old fiddles!

So now I will tell you exactly how Willie and I came to find ourselves entwined together in the nude on top of a pile of straw in our stables! He had arrived earlier than the other guests on the Thursday evening because, like myself, he is a keen water-colourist and wished to spend a day with a brush, palette and easel before going out to bag a brace of quail. So after breakfast on Friday morning I offered to take him to the banks of the River Teme where he would have a marvellous view of the beautiful rolling hills around us.

Willie thanked me and as we strolled through our grounds he regaled me with a string of fascinating anecdotes about what has been happening in London lately, for it must be admitted that Willie is not only well-connected but is also a shameless gossip. In fact, we were both roaring with laughter about a tale he had heard about the recent exploits of your friend Lord Philip Pelham at the Jim Jam Club when Willie unluckily placed his foot in some very fresh evidence of a herd of cows having passed by not long before us.

He ripped out a colourful oath and his artists case went flying as he executed a wild ballet before he fell awkwardly to the ground. I rushed over to assist him to his feet but Willie had twisted his right ankle quite badly and even when leaning on my shoulder, the poor man could only walk with great difficulty.

As fate would have it, the wind now began to freshen appreciably and a grey cloud scudded over the sun. I said to him: 'Look, let's get you over to the stables where you can rest whilst I run to the house and bring a couple of servants to help you back.'

'I think that might be best, Hilary,' he replied as he bent down to pick up his case. 'I'm sorry to put you to all this trouble!

'Oh, that's all right, Willie, accidents will happen,' I said. As I assisted him to hobble towards the stable door the first drops of a sharp summer shower pattered down upon us.

'Ah, that's much better! he sighed with relief when I helped him sit down on a pile of fresh straw. 'My ankle only hurts when I put any pressure on it. So there's no need for you to get soaked, Hilary: wait till the rain dies away before you make your way back to the house!

'Very well,' I agreed. Then I suddenly realized that at least this unfortunate situation gave me the perfect opportunity to practise my skill at Chinese massage, a technique which had recently been shown to me by none other than Lady Molly Southard at one of Johnny Wood's wild parties in Chelsea before I was summoned back home. Of course, being Molly she was only interested in massaging my pussey. But in the end she did agree to demonstrate this technique-which she had learned on her visit to Hong Kong last year-on a less private part of my anatomy.

'Well, I don't suppose it could do any harm,' said Willie doubtfully. But he complied with my instruction to divest himself of his shoes, socks and of course his trousers which were badly soiled with cow dung whilst I took off my jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my dress.

'Now just lie back and relax,' I said and, laying my hands carefully around his lower leg, I began to massage the affected ankle. At first Willie grimaced with pain but after a minute or so he remarked: 'My dear Hilary, there's no doubt about it, you have been blessed with healing hands. My ankle feels much less painful already'

I smiled at him and replied: 'I'm so pleased, Willie. It's a simple enough technique used in the Orient by friends to ease away aches and pains.

'The girl who taught it to me says that it is also a wonderful way to enhance friendships,' I added softly as I moved my hands up to stroke his muscular thighs. I could see the outline of what appeared to be a sizeable cock begin to twitch against the white cotton of his drawers.

Willie looked at me with a twinkle in his steely grey eyes as he murmured: ' “Voila ou menent les chemins du plaisir.”

'The paths of pleasure lead here,' I translated, showing him that my stay at an expensive Swiss finishing school for Young Ladies had not been entirely wasted. There was a brief silence. Then he took me in his arms and our mouths clamped together in a passionate open-mouthed kiss. Willie's tongue thrust sinuously against mine as we rolled together in the straw. In no time at all he had opened up my blouse and pulled down the straps of my chemise to expose the firm swell of my bare bosom to his lustful gaze.

We helped each other ease off our clothes. I shuddered with desire when Willie's head moved down towards my breasts and his wicked tongue curled over their hardening tips. As you might remember, my nipples have always been terribly sensitive and my pussey began to moisten as he sucked on one erect bud while tweaking the other between his fingers. I was further aroused when I reached down to clasp his stiff shaft which was throbbing insistently against my leg for Willies cock was indeed something special: it was so thick that I could scarcely wrap my fingers around the blue-veined barrel of his shaft.

I licked my lips as I capped and uncapped this fiery red-headed truncheon and, foregoing any further preliminaries, I lowered my head and began to suck lustily on this delicious sweetmeat. Willie moaned with pleasure as I washed his knob with saliva and licked and lapped all round the ridge of his helmet whilst his palm rubbed against my damp bush of pussey hair. Gradually we moved into the soixante-neuf position and when my crotch was level with his face he pressed his lips against my pouting slit and wiggled his tongue inside my tingling cunney. He licked out my love funnel with stylish aplomb, lapping up the freely flowing juices which were now gushing out of my excited cunt.

However, just as my pussey was about to explode into orgasm, Willie lifted his face from between my thighs and pulled my lips away from his pulsating prick. I let out a kittenish miaow of protest but Willie swallowed hard and said in a husky voice: 'I'm sorry, Hilary, but I can only cum once these days and I desperately want to make love to you.'

'That would be very nice,' I replied as I caressed his quivering cock. 'So tell me how you want to do so.'

He caressed my breasts as he continued: 'I want to fuck you at the gallop, you ravishing creature. I'm going to cram my cock into your squelchy slit and pump my prick in and out of your juicy snatch.'

'Yes! Yes! Yes!' I hissed into his ear. 'My cunney will cling to your cock and we'll cum together in a glorious spend!'

With a low growl, Willie rolled me over on my back. I lay trembling with desire, my legs apart, as he grasped his colossal cock and rubbed the huge head up and down against my puffy pussy lips.

Now, Andrew, you know that I have sampled perhaps more than my fair share of pricks, but I must tell you that I was genuinely worried that my little quim would not be able to accommodate Major William Bucknall's formidable weapon. Happily, though, my fear quickly proved to be unfounded and when he pressed home, my sopping sheath expanded to receive his massive member. I was overwhelmed by the exquisite sensations as slowly but surely he gained entry into my eager cunt.

Strands of his pubic hair entangled with mine as our groins touched and Willie whispered: 'I'm fully in you, every inch of me-and now I'm going to fuck you, my sweet girl.'

'Go on, then, fuck my arse off if you can,' I replied saucily, wrapping my legs around his tight bum cheeks whilst Willie slewed his superb shaft to and fro. We began what was to be a glorious fuck at a leisurely speed, lingering over each delicious stroke.