Anonymous - The Oyster, Volume III

I laughed but noted his explanation. Even at this early age, I was already interested in folk-lore. By the time we reached our station, we were feeling somewhat randy and as Cecil had surreptitiously purchased a copy of The Pearl from a newsvendor at Victoria, we had divided the publication into two sections and had each taken a portion to read. 'Damn me, but it's amazing how quickly one recovers from a good spell of fucking!' commented Cecil, stroking the bulge between his legs. 'After reading this randy stuff, I could really do some girl a favour!' 'Me too, 'I said. 'Mind, we are lucky that we have such big pricks. There's that fat fellow Ivor What's-his-name in the fourth form whose cock can only measure a couple of inches on the dangle though I've never seen it ready for action.' 'Don't fall into a trap here,' advised Cecil. 'Other fellows tools will often appear to be bigger than your own. This is simply because you are looking at theirs from an angle whereas you see your own cock only by looking straight down on it which is why it always will appear to be larger when viewed in a mirror. 'And as for young Ivor, his prick will probably grow as he gets older. Our bodies all mature at different rates. Anyhow, size is unimportant except I suppose that there are quite a number of girls who get excited at the sight of a really big juicy cock. Many others, however, I am told are far more aroused by a manly chest or the slim flanks of an athlete.' But remember that there are times when small is beautiful! For example I can quote from the poet Alexander Pope who you may know was a man of very small stature. I think I can remember the very words he wrote to a lady who had dared to mock his size: 'You know where you did despise (T'other day) my little Eyes, Little Legs, and little Thighs, And some things, of little Size, You know where. You, 'tis true, have fine black eyes, Taper Legs and tempting Thighs, Yet what more than we all prize Is a Thing of little Size, You know where.'

So it's not the size that counts, it's what you actually do with the equipment provided,' finished my brother. Well, as chance would have it, a message was waiting for us at home from our dear parents who had been called to the bedside of my mother's aged Uncle Frederick in Brighton. As Uncle Frederick was reckoned to be worth at least a cool quarter of a million, my parents (along with other nephews and nieces) had cancelled all arrangements to journey to Brighton post-haste. Well, the old gentleman had no children-at least, none the right side of the blanket, and there were no bastards of which we knew. Cecil and I were commanded to change into sombre clothing and join our parents forthwith. They were staying with Colonel and Mrs. Bed well, who were old friends since before Cecil and I were born. When the Colonel retired from the Army, he bought a splendid country mansion very close to Preston Park. Cecil was extremely friendly with the Bedwell's youngest son Richard, a cheery young man who was of a similar age and, as I was about to find out, a chap with similar and quite singular tastes! Indeed, when we arrived at Bedwell Manor, we were ushered in by the butler to the billiard room where Richard was waiting to greet us. 'Hello, chaps,' he said warmly. 'How smashing to see you again. How are you keeping Cecil, old boy? Hasn't fallen off, has it? No? Well, that's a relief I'm sure and, good heavens, is this young Teddy? Christ, I would never have recognised you. You've got hairs on your chest by now, I suppose and elsewhere if you're anything like your brother! 'Dunn will take your things upstairs. We have the house to ourselves as my folks have gone with your parents to see your Great Uncle Frederick who I am sorry to say is probably on his way out this time which is quite a sad business really. 'My parents were friendly with him, you know, and I thought he was an interesting old cove. He was quite healthy until he got sozzled at a soirie Lady Fransmann arranged for that young Scottish poet Douglas Walker, the protege of Oscar Wilde whom London Society seems to have taken to its heart. 'So an over indulgence in wine has caused his downfall,' said Cecil. 'Well, indirectly, yes,' Robert continued, 'though he could always knock back a bottle of bubbly without any problems. What happened was that he was walking home from Lady Fransmann whose house was only down the road when he slipped upon some very fresh evidence of horses and feeling somewhat tired, he decided to sleep under the stars. Alas, he caught a chill which has settled on his chest and the quacks hold out little hope of recovery. They've even brought down Doctor Jonathan Arkley from Harley Street but it looks all up with the old boy.' 'What a deuced shame.' I said. 'How old is Great Uncle Frederick? 'He was ninety two last month,' answered Cecil. 'So he has had a good innings. But what a way to go-slipping in a pile of horse-shit!' 'Well, he was too pissed to have smelled it,' said Robert and I'm afraid we rather inappropriately burst into peals of laugher. Still, as the Eastern sage Mustafa Pharte says, when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart.

Needless to say, our new melodies centred around l'amour and after a light luncheon, we sat in Richard's private room where he regaled us with an account of his latest conquest. I should add that he was a good-looking young man approaching eighteen years of age and many girls of all walks of life lost their hearts (and often their cherries) to the handsome boy. As we settled down to our post-luncheon liqueurs(both Cecil and I chose brandy whilst Richard sipped at a port), our host told us of his encounter the previous night with Augusta, the pretty young daughter of Sir Clive and Lady Bonney who lived nearby. 'We had attended Colonel Burbeck's ball,' said Richard, 'and Augusta had pencilled me in for several dances. She really is an attractive young miss and she looked quite ravishing in a low-cut dark blue ball gown that accentuated rather than hid her full, snowy white breasts. She is almost as tall as I am and as we danced we found out that we shared the same birthday. 'Maybe people who were conceived at a certain time share similar characteristics,' she smiled as I held her tightly in my arms. I was trying to ease her back from my erection at the time for although we had known each other for some time we were hardly bosom friends and as a gentleman I had no desire to embarrass the girl who, for all I knew, might still be a virgin. 'But as I tried to wriggle free, to my surprise, the gorgeous girl pressed herself even harder against me and softly whispered: 'My, my, my, Richard, that's quite a bulge lean feel down below. Is that all your cock or have you pushed some padding down there to make it feel bigger? 'Certainly not,' I replied, 'But I am astounded to hear you talk so freely of such matters, Augusta, I really am.' 'But you are not sorry, are you, Richard? she twinkled, squeezing my cock with her hand as we waltzed our way into a secluded corner. 'If you have had enough dancing, shall we take the air outside? It is so warm this evening, is it not? 'As you may well imagine, I hardly needed a second invitation and with alacrity piloted her through the crowds and we stepped out on the patio and then walked down the path towards the little gardener's shed where to my amazement a key was in the lock and Augusta motioned me inside. 'I borrow the key from old Newman, the head gardener, for five shillings and no questions asked,' she whispered. 'And I have spent another ten shillings getting my maid Elizabeth to clean out the shed and lay down a nice mattress on the floor. Several of the girls clubbed together to buy the mattress and we take it with us to all the dances around the country. We take it in turns to use it although if it is one's turn and there is no boy worth fucking, then a postponement is permitted.

The Hon. Celia Nutworthy is secretary of our little circle and she keeps our accounts.' 'What a splendid idea,' I exclaimed. 'Yes, and as you are the boy I have chosen tonight, I am sure that you will not mind reimbursing us for the cost of bribing the servants and other incidental expenses,' said Augusta. 'I readily agreed to pay up and my offer of a guinea was deemed acceptable by Augusta who pulled me to her ample charms. We sank down onto the soft mattress and kissed and embraced with ardour. I peeled open the buttons on her dress and her large breasts poured out of their cups and I gently caressed the saucer-sized nipples which rose to rosy little bullets under my touch.