Anonymous - The Oyster Volume V

'Never mind what you're doing,' she said. 'None of my business. In here!' She pushed open a door and dragged me into complete darkness. Something gave way under my feet and I fell over once more. There was a rumbling noise and what felt like a cascade of stones fell on me.

'We're in a coal hole!' I cried out, trying to regain my balance but falling over again as the mound of coal shifted under me. 'This is ridiculous!'

'Never mind,' she said, quite invisible in the Stygian blackness but still keeping firm hold of my prick. 'The dirt'll just add to your disguise. Now keep still while I get my gloves off. Don't want to get your prick all gritty. I'll have him out in an instant.'

Strong little hands unbuttoned me. As my eyes began to get used to the darkness, I could just about see my prick, ghostly white where the light from the half-closed door caught it.

'There,' she whispered, 'I'll guide you.'

All at once I felt the warmth of her bush rubbing against the tip of my already straining member. I stopped struggling. What else could I do? The quicker we got this over, the quicker I could get out and follow Holmes.

Now she was straddling me as I lay back. Expertly she lowered herself on to my prick, burying it entirely in her already wet cunney. Cautiously she began to ride up and down on me. I responded and felt the coal shift beneath me.

'Careful,' she said. 'We don't want to start an avalanche.'

I lay still once more. The idea of being buried alive while fucking did not appeal. She did not make any abrupt movements but just used her inside muscles, clenching and unclenching herself about my swollen cock. 'Cleopatra's grip,' I recalled Becky calling it. One of those feminine skills handed down from Antiquity in a centuries-old tradition. Never was it more needed now. One over-abrupt movement and catastrophe threatened.

Perilous though our situation was, I realised that I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy it. I was in the hands, or rather the cunney, of an expert.

As I surrendered to professional care, I forgot everything except the delicious rhythmic squeezing that was rapidly driving me towards my coming. I felt the first stirring as my jism began to churn inside my swollen balls. I must have made some slight sound.

'That's it,' she said, 'let it come. Everything you've got. Right into me.' I did as I was bid. Steadying myself on the ever-shifting coal slope with my outstretched arms, I began to pump spurt after spurt of my cum up and into her. After the events of the afternoon, I was surprised at how much I could summon up. Rising and falling a little now on me, she milked me as our juices were spread over my prick and began to trickle down into my hair.

'I call it my Wishing Well,' she said softly in my ear. 'When the last drop comes out, you must close your eyes and think of what you would most like to happen to you. I can see the whites of your eyes,' she went on. 'You're supposed to close 'em when you wish.'

I did as she commanded. All I could wish was that I could get out of there as soon as possible and follow Holmes. My first Case and already I had a sense of failure. 'AH done then?' she said.

I nodded and then coughed as some coal dust tickled my throat.

'Up we come then,' she said, carefully lifting herself off my discharged but still erect firing piece. 'A good two penn'orth, wasn't it?'

I nodded again, feeling in my pocket for some coins. As I began to lever myself up, I slipped.

'Blast this coal!' I said.

'Anthracite,' she said.

'What?' I said, still struggling to pick myself up.

'Good Welsh anthracite,' she said. 'Best there is for burning. Born and brought up in the Valleys, I was. Learned my trade at the pit head.'

'Young woman, this is not the time or place to discuss the merits of different types of coal,' I said, looking up at her. 'Help me up!'

She reached down, seized hold of my hands and pulled me to my feet.

'I must find my friend,' I said.

'I'll come with you,' she said. 'Maybe he'll want a quick fuck as well.'

'I think you'll find that he has other things on his mind,' I said, rummaging round in my pocket for the money to pay her off. My fingers closed round something. 'Here, take this!'

As she took the only coin I could find in my hurry, I realised from the milled edge that it was in fact the half-sovereign with which I had earlier been paid off after my own afternoon endeavours. However it was too late to take it back. Already she had hidden it about her person. For a moment I considered asking for my change but realised that as a Tuppenny Upright, she was hardly likely to have enough cash on her to be able to comply with such a request. I made a mental resolve to be more careful with money in the future.

'Now we must set out after your friend,' she said, yanking me out into the evening gloom. I saw a small smile flit across her face as she realised the extent of her luck and my mistake.

At least, I consoled myself, it would appear that I had a higher market value.

My immediate problem was to track Holmes down. Carefully I climbed up the area steps, my Welsh Undresser, as I had Christened her in my mind, rather wittily I considered, followed close behind. The road above was empty. I started across.

All at once there came a terrible moaning noise. 'My God!' I muttered out loud. 'Holmes!' He must have been attacked by the well-dressed fellow we had seen admitted to the servants entrance. I began to run towards the sound.

The door was still ajar and speedily but quietly I slipped inside, knowing not what scene of outrage I might find. The room was empty but through an open door and from down the passage, the unearthly moaning recommenced. I looked around wildly. Obviously Holmes must be in terrible trouble. If I was to be of any use to him, a weapon was needed. My eye lit upon a large rolling pin and I picked it up, feeling its reassuring weight in my hands.

'I don't think that will be needed, dearie,' said a small Welsh voice. I looked round. My Tuppenny Upright had followed me in.

'I must save my friend,' I said, rather impressed by my own heroism. 'Stay out of the way. This is man's work.'

'Woman's,' she said, contradicting me.

'What?' I said.

'It's all right,' she said, 'I know that sound-' 'Shhh!' I said, pulling away from her as she tugged at my sleeve.

'But — ' she said, refusing to let go so that I found myself dragging her in my wake as I raised the rolling pin and began to creep towards the bloodcurdling sound. I finally just about managed to shake her off but she insisted on following me, ignore her though I might.

The first two rooms we came to both had partly opened doors. There was no lighting but I realised that one was a larder and the other a store of some kind. The moaning sound came from ahead. I pressed cautiously on. All of a sudden my foot caught what appeared in the half-light to be a scrubbing brush. It skated across the stone flags and clanged against a bucket. As the sound echoed down the passage, the moaning came to an abrupt end. An ominous silence fell and then there came the patter of hasty footsteps. Casting caution to the winds, I rushed on. We came to a right-angled turn. I paused and edged forward. Another room opened off the corridor. Flattening myself against the wall, I inched my way onwards, trying to keep myself concealed until I could get a clear view through the doorway. From behind came a stifled, choking sound. I spun on my heel. My companion had her hand to her mouth.

'Shhh!' I said again. Again I paused, gathered up my reserves of courage and then fairly leaped in, ready to do battle.

'About time, too,' came a quiet voice. 'Holmes!' I cried out.

Holmes it was. He was standing by a small window, upright and wound about with what seemed to be a large sheet, his arms bound to his sides like an Egyptian mummy. He was pulling rather crossly at the ends of his imprisoning bandage which had been fed between the rollers of a large mangle.