Anonymous - The Oyster, Volume III

'And on such a cool afternoon.' Gwendolen looked a little embarrassed at his remark, particularly when he lowered his lips to her hand once more and rather boldly licked her fingertips. 'But one hardly needs gloves when one has a warm muff to hand,' he continued with a wicked little chuckle. Then, before I had had the time to consider how I should react to his sudden turn of affairs, Gwendolen hurried to make an introduction that set my mind quite at rest concerning the propriety of the conversation. 'Cecily, this is my dear friend Mr. George Russell-Lupin. Not only is he a very close friend whom I have known now for many, many months, but he has a truly gallant prick which is most prompt to stand up for any lady, no matter what the situation. 'One likes to be of service…,' he responded. 'George, this is my dear, dear former schoolfriend Cecily, with whom I am resuming acquaintance after a most painful separation of two whole years. We were indeed bosom companions and I very much hope that we shall shortly be able to resume that relationship. However this is not of course a sufficiently private place for that purpose.' Mr. Russell-Lupin, or George as I had already determined to call him for I have long been opposed to over-formality in social intercourse, looked at me with a wicked gleam in his eye, then darted out his tongue to lightly touch Gwendolen's fingers again. 'Cecily,' he said, 'I look forward to holding your hand in greeting. But in the meantime, here is an unusual and enticing state of affairs. Although I have not yet touched you, I have had the priviledge of tasting you. The sensation is wholly delightful.'

'This, Sir, is a situation that I have never seen dealt with in the books of etiquette and I am somewhat covered with embarrassment.'

'Just as dear Gwendolen's hand is somewhat covered with your cum,' he answered. 'You must have both been deep in conversation when I intruded upon your privacy. Should I now withdraw and seat myself towards the front of the bus so that you can resume your intercourse.'

'No,' said Gwendolen. 'Don't be silly. We had just come to a natural pause in our conversation. Cecily also had just come, but that's by-the-by. It was all my doing for I had been recounting the events of a most important day in my life.' 'Of course,' he responded. 'It is your anniversary. Your first fuck!' 'Cecily', said Gwendolen, 'I must explain that George has already heard the story of my first fuck.' 'And her second? And her third..?' I murmured. 'Cecily,' said Gwendolen, 'you will gather that George is already au fait with every last detail of that memorable day.

Indeed he was present on the first anniversary. Not to put too fine a point on it, George was thoroughly embedded in me when I first told him the story. In spite of showing great self restraint during the account, his final reaction was the same as yours.' 'I came,' said George, 'But only after one of the longest and finest fucks of my life.' 'When George was young,' said Gwendolen, 'he was well tutored in certain Eastern arts of Love by his Nanny.' 'His Nanny!' I exclaimed. 'The family were out East. The Nanny was passed on to them by a family who were returning to England. She had the highest references. She also turned out to have spent the formative years of her life in a harem and had there learnt many of the exotic practices that are such an exciting part of Eastern tradition and culture.' 'By the time I was fourteen,' George explained, 'I could, with the aid of some strenuous mental exercises, remain erect and fully inserted for ten or more minutes. By the time I was sixteen, I had got it up to twenty minutes.' 'Got it up for twenty minutes, surely?' I responded. 'Is it not unusual to still have a nanny when one is sixteen, even in India.' 'Indeed, yes,' he answered. 'But my parents were more than happy that their, may I say it, occasionally unruly son, had been so well taken in hand. When not engaged in his Regimental duties, my father was altogether taken up in his polo and my mother was quite taken up in an illicit liaison with the Adjutant.' 'Which came to an abrupt end,' interjected Gwendolen, 'when she was accidentally revealed astride the Adjutant, stark naked except that she was wearing his boots, his Sam Brown belt and flourishing his riding crop.' 'As you can see,' went on George, 'my parents led a full life and were more than satisfied when it became clear that I was growing up to healthy manhood with little effort on their part.' 'So the nanny stayed,' I said.

'Indeed, yes,' he answered. 'And I quickly realised that the reason her previous employers had retained her services long past the time when most nannies have to pass on to another charge, must be connected with her very special abilities in the training of British manhood in the arts of the Orient.' 'And British womanhood, I gather,' said Gwendolen. 'I have to explain,' said George, 'that after the unfortunate public exposure of her affair with the adjutant, my mother took to her bedroom in shame for several days. Nanny, being of a kind and thoughtful disposition, spent many hours comforting her as she lay in her darkened room. She personally made sure that light meals were delivered to her. She shoo'd all the other servants away-and also my father who had been so upset when word reached him of the scandal that he fell off his polo pony and was accidentally struck on the head by the mallet of an over-enthusiastic brother officer.

Mother, in the meantime, aided by the skilled ministrations of Nanny, quickly discovered a new interest in life. So enthusiastic did she become in the erotic arts of the East that she quite soon set off in disguise, with only Nanny to accompany her, on a tour of some of the more explicit Indian temple sculptures. 'You may have seen,' said Gwendolen, 'a privately printed monograph of restricted circulation entitled An Introduction to the Eastern Art of Fucking, by a Lady Much Experienced in Those Parts. There was a somewhat dog-eared copy in circulation in the Senior Dorm in your last year.' 'That was George's mother!' I exclaimed. 'I have long wished to meet the author, if only to encourage her to publish a sequel.' 'So there are two members of George's family who have much to thank his nanny for,' said Gwendolen. 'And may I enquire if her services extended as far as your father?' I asked. 'Alas, No,' said George. 'Remaining true to what he considered the finest traditions of the British Empire, he continued to be what is vulgarly called a 'two-minute man' and was quite soon afterwards invalided out of the army with a nasty dose of something he picked up in an Officers Only establishment in Calcutta.

He retired to Ireland to breed horses and was sadly trampled to death by a mount of a nervous disposition while thrashing about in the straw of a horse box with a young girl from the village.' 'How terrible,' I said. 'Was the girl all right?' 'Bruised only,' said George. 'The family of course took pity on her-she could hardly remain in the village-and brought her over to London where she is still in service in my aunt's establishment. She recovered fully from her injuries and quickly resumed a most energetic life of fucking. I have in fact been honoured in turn to introduce her to those Eastern practices that I had learned at the hands of my nanny.' 'What a complicated family history you have,' I said. 'I am sure I should never be able to remember quite who did what and with whom.' 'Do not worry,' said Gwendolen. 'You are not about to be examined on the subject.' She must have seen the quick look of disappointment that passed across my face. 'At least not in the schoolroom sense of the word,' she went on hurriedly. 'I am sure a physical examination in the subject could be arranged.' 'An oral one too?' I asked, with a little shiver of daring. 'It would be my pleasure,' said George.

'It would be all our pleasures,' said Gwendolen firmly. 'George,' she went on, 'One thing I must tell you-I hope I do not embarrass you, Cecily dear-is that Cecily has a pair of the biggest, most delicious titties of anyone I know. I am almost beside myself in my desire to see them once more, and to feel them responding to my touch.'