Anonymous - The Secret Chronicles of Henry Dashwood, Vol. 1

Hastily, I moved backwards whilst I finished myself off. Then I rebut-toned my flies and wiped the jism off my fingers and the door with my handkerchief. I stuffed it back into my pocket as I hastily bent down again for a second look through the key-hole. However, I had only time to catch a brief glimpse of the head boy's cock pistoning a passage through the crevice between Mrs. Dickerson's bum cheeks, when I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder… To write that I was greatly startled would be an understatement! It would be more truthful to record that I was frightened out of my wits by the touch and with a yell, I sprang up to face the wrath of one of the masters or prefects. But, thank heaven, it was luckily only my chum George Nugent-Bull. 'Hello there, Henry, what's up old sport?' he enquired blithely. 'Bunny Hare was worried that you hadn't come down for tea, so he sent me round here to see if you were all right.'

I frowned at poor George and muttered an oath under my breath for there was no way in which the writhing couple behind the door could not have heard us. The thought flashed through my brain that neither of them could afford to have their liaison made public so I should be safe from any punishment. George's unwitting interruption would only mean that I would not see the conclusion of this thrilling erotic spectacle. Nevertheless, there was potential for great embarrassment for everyone concerned in this situation and I pushed George roughly towards the stairs whilst I replied: 'Yes, yes, I'm fine. Quickly now though, we must get away from here as soon as possible.' Alas, almost immediately, the bedroom door flew open and I glanced round to see Julian, clad in a khaki dressing gown and with a thunderous scowl upon on his flushed face. He slammed the door shut behind him and roared angrily at us: 'Come back here at once, you two scallywags.' I would probably have ignored him and legged it down the stairs, daring Clayton to chase us in his bare feet and – in all probability – without anything on under his dressing gown. But, having a completely clear conscience, and not wanting to give the senior prefect the opportunity to swish him for disobedience, George turned round and walked slowly back across the landing. This left me no choice but to accompany him for I could hardly let my innocent pal face the music alone. Reluctantly, I followed his footsteps to where Clayton was waiting with a look of cold fury in his eyes. 'I'll tan your hides so hard that you won't be able to sit down for a week, you dirty little rascals. How long have you two cads been skulking outside this door?' Clayton demanded angrily. But, before either of us could answer, Mrs. Dickerson now made an appearance. She looked somewhat dishevelled and she too was only dressed in a blue silk robe.

However, when she spoke it was in a far calmer tone. 'Stop shouting at the poor lads, Julian, there is no call to make a scene,' she admonished. Then she whispered something in Julian's ear. He listened intently to what she had to say and then, with a grunt, he disappeared back into the bedroom. Mrs. Dickerson turned to us and added with a sweet smile: 'Boys, would you please wait outside for a few moments for me, I won't keep you very long.' A couple of minutes later, the door opened and a now fully clothed, grim-faced Julian Clayton stormed by us without a word. 'What the heck has been going on here?' asked George, bewildered. I couldn't resist giving him a little dig in the ribs with my elbow as I sniggered: 'Use your loaf, George, what do you think Julian and Mrs. Dickerson were doing in there – practising first aid?' 'Well, you could say that in a manner of speaking,' said Mrs. Dickerson, who I had not seen open the door when George asked his question. 'But come inside and I will give you both a fuller explanation.' She stood aside as we entered the bedroom and she locked the door behind us. We stood somewhat awkwardly in front of her as she sat down on the bed and, looking up at us and with a faint smile playing around her lips, she began her explanation. 'I believe that you are both old enough for me not to beat about the bush. For some time now, I have considered it my bounden duty to educate the senior boys at this school about the reproductive process, for this subject is so poorly taught in the classroom here. 'Nature has made the act of physical union extremely pleasant, and yet, the powers that be insist on propagating the philosophy that there is something sinful in the very act upon which the preservation of our species depends! My late lamented husband was a victim of such ridiculous ideas and I have determined to do my utmost to ensure that at least some of our young men are able to shed these unnecessary burdens of guilt and shame about natural expressions of sexual desire. Do you follow the drift of these remarks?' George and I both muttered that we understood what she was saying to us. She slowly nodded her head and continued: 'Very good, then you will appreciate why Julian Clayton was so concerned that we might have been spied upon during his lesson in the finer points of fucking.' When Mrs. Dickerson saw our jaws drop as we heard her utter such a strictly prohibited word, she laughed openly and said: 'Forgive me, I should have said the finer points of sexual intercourse, but I prefer honest earthy language.' She picked up a book from the small table at the side of the bed and went on: 'I doubt if either of you have heard of Boccaccio. He was a wonderful Italian writer who lived more than five hundred years ago.

I'll read to you his answer when he was castigated for using earthy language in his stories.' Then she read aloud the following passage which I am copying from a book I've taken from the library:

If in my tales there are a few words rather freer than suits the prudes who weigh words more than deeds and take more pains to appear rather than to be good, I maintain I should no more be reproved for having written them than other folk are daily rebuked for saying 'hole', 'peg', 'sausage' and like things. No corrupt mind ever understands words healthily and just as such people do not enjoy virtuous words, so the well-disposed cannot be harmed by words less virtuous, any more than mud can sully sunlight or earthly filth the beauty of the skies. As we stood there digesting these wise words, she put down the book and asked us softly whether we would promise that we would keep secret everything we had seen and heard this afternoon. 'You have my word of honour,' I said. George nodded his head in agreement: 'And you have mine too, Mrs. Dickerson.'

When she had received these assurances she asked us softly if we wanted to enroll in her very private biology class. 'Yes please,' we chorused. She let out a knowing little chuckle and said: 'I was pretty sure that you would both be game. Well, there's no time like the present, if you have some free time to spare.' I insisted that I had. However, George clapped his hand to his forehead and exclaimed: 'Damn, I'm free too, but I must go back to Trippett's Hall and give Mr. Hare a report on Henry's leg.' I gave a short laugh, for I had been so completely occupied with the extraordinary goings-on in the sickbay that I had quite forgotten why I was there in the first place! So, only now did I show Mrs. Dickerson my injured shin. As I expected, after examining the wound, she wrapped a small bandage round my leg and said to George that he could tell Mr. Hare that I would make a swift and full recovery. 'Please don't start the first lesson without me,' George begged as he strode to the door.

'I'll tell Bunny the good news and be back in just five minutes,' he assured Lizzie. He was as good as his word and when he returned Mrs. Dickerson opened the proceedings by saying: 'Now let's start as we mean to go on and dispense with silly formalities. My name is Lizette and I shall call you Henry and George. Now, I need to know just how physically developed you are, so will the pair of you both undress. Hang your clothes over those chairs by the window.' I am sure that George would agree that if either of us had been alone with Lizzie Dickerson at this stage, we might well have been too nervous to continue further. But the presence of an old friend helped us to overcome our shyness. Remember this is the first time that either of us has exposed our grown cock and balls to female eyes.