Anonymous - The Oyster, Volume III

Determined not to allow the increasingly strange turn of events get out of hand, so to speak, I swallowed and managed manfully to carry on a polite yet, I hoped; animated conversation. Mentioning my expedition to Clifton in the company of Rosie (but drawing a discreet veil over what had happened in the darkness of the camera obscura on the Downs. I expounded on the architectural and topographical merits of the city, gave my impression of the lively hustle and bustle in the streets that betokened its commercial vitality and embarked on what I pride myself was a not-uninteresting and well-informed dissertation on the Bristol origins of the phrase 'paying on the nail'. Mrs. P- snowed every sign of interest as I continued to inform her of the present state and past history of our premier south-western seaport.

As she plied me with questions I was thankful that the good Dr White, my Headmaster at Nottsgrove Academy, had insisted that a working knowledge of Geography and the Commercial World should be instilled into his boys. But behind my mask of calm, I was becoming more and more agitated. The hidden hand had now unbuttoned me, had reached in and exposed Mr. Pego. A shrinking embarrassment at my predicament struggled with a swelling excitement as my prick was teased and stroked into life. Soon»t was standing erect and throbbing. I leaned forward, seized by the disconcerting thought that the by now fat and dampening tip of my member might actually come poking up into sight above the table. Desperately I carried on, trying to do justice to the meal before me and to keep my conversational end up. I was uncomfortably aware that the strain of appearing normal was causing me to clench my teeth at each new caress and I could feel beads of perspiration forming on my brow. Deliberately drawing a deep breath and making a great effort to relax, I had just impaled and forked a large Brussels sprout, raising it towards my mouth, when the unseen hand struck or rather stroked again. Firm fingers wrapped themselves round the now near rigid shaft of my prick, forcing it down. There was a bumping and a boring between my thighs and the unseen hand was joined by an unseen mouth. Deliciously soft lips first kissed lightly and then opened to admit my pulsating cock. Inch by inch, I was sucked in while a probing tongue began to lick its way down the underside of my shaft and towards the very root of my straining manhood. Convulsively I bit into the still steaming hot sprout, just as my invisible attachment nipped sharply at the open-eyed head of my engorged organ. I gasped as my teeth jarred painfully on the prongs of my fork and the soft inside of my mouth was scalded by boiling hot sprout. Again I gulped and tried to swallow my mouthful as at that very moment I became aware of the first rising spasm of my cum beginning to force its way up and along my distended shaft. At once a slippery wet tongue was damped firmly down on the already weeping eye of my prick, bottling up the hot tidal gush of spunk that was now moving upwards. For an instant I could feel a bursting pressure as my love juice was damned up. Just as a gardener will place his thumb over a watering hose in order to produce a more powerful jet, so my hidden succubus was engineering a veritable gusher of cum. Ecstasy and agony were mixed and I choked on my barely-chewed and burning Brussels sprout. 'Oh, dear', said Hannah. 'Something must have gone down the wrong way.' With that she got to her feet and came round behind me to pat me on the back. As I coughed, my eyes watering and my throat on fire, I was unstoppered down below and a great geyser of cum shot uncontrollably, but safely, Thank God, into a now greedily welcoming mouth. Hannah was now banging me heartily on the back as I doubled up, spluttering and drawing in great gulps of air while I was hungrily sucked and swallowed to an unforgettable climax. Shudders ran through my whole body. Mrs. P- looked at me with evident concern. Rosie and both maids all had the same idea and poured out glasses of water, pushing them or carrying them over to me.

Wracked with pain and illicit pleasure, I waved my hands as though to say 'Just leave me alone. I'll be all right in a minute.' The last spasms of both my coming and my choking were coursing their way through my whole body. There was a momentary pause and I shuddered again as I felt at one and the same time the first blissful relief of being able once more to breathe freely along with the slow relaxing wave of sheer satisfaction at my relief down below. As I mopped my brow, Hannah ran her fingers round the inside of my collar, helping me to breathe but also allowing herself the opportunity unobtrusively to rub her splendid titties against my back. My composure was rapidly being restored and I could feel myself being licked and tidied into quiescence. The last few drops of sticky cum were expertly sucked from the now withdrawing head of my prick. Fresh air helped to reduce my member back to more manageable proportions and a more pliable condition. Hannah, with a last little squeeze to the nape of my neck, went back to her place. I was conscious of the very lightest of kisses to the very tip of Mr. Pego before he was tucked away and I was made as decent down below as I was now composed above. General conversation resumed although I now played a lesser part in the dinner table chit chat. I was tired, suddenly ravenous and had the best part of my roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and three vegetables still in front of me. As I ate I half-listened to Rosie who had now embarked on a description of the rigours of boarding-school life and a general denounciation of the educational system as it had affected her. I was left wondering Who? Who? I had looked down as unobtrusively as possible and had seen, nestling between my thighs, the top of a golden curled head as it lifted away from my still gaping flies but no recognition had dawned. Although the mystery presence had withdrawn, I knew that she was still there, hidden but close. I half-expected to feel her touch once more at any minute. Tentatively I stretched out first one leg and then the other, feeling cautiously around me as best I could, hoping that I would be able to locate the golden-haired stranger. But nothing. Although all my other appetites were either well satisfied or well on the way, my curiosity was not just aroused but aflame. Stretching a little too far under the table, I accidentally half-nudged, half-kicked Becky who was sitting at my right. She at once responded in kind and then half-turned towards me, running her tongue lingeringly over her upper lip in an unmistakable gesture of promise. Just for a moment she fingered the upper button of her bodice and looked me straight in the eye before turning back to take her part in the great debate on education that Rosie seemed to have provoked. The main course was succeeded by a tasty pudding.

The maids went deftly about their business. Mrs. P- reminisced about Colonel Moore and the interesting times they had spent together in the Orient. The question as to who exactly was hidden under the dining table was of course unanswered. Coffee was served. Then Mrs. P- rose and excused herself. 'I have some reading to do,' she said. 'I will have to leave you young people to entertain one another.' As the door closed behind her, I could contain my curiosity no more.

Speedily I bent down to look under the table. But quick as I was, my anonymous explorer had been quicker still. As I peered underneath I saw the swish and flutter of the cloth at the far end of the table as an escape was made. Hastily I withdrew my head. Too quickly, as it turned out. I caught the top of my head a nasty crack on the polished mahogany, let out a sharp cry of pain and then set there in my chair, nursing my injured head in my hands while my eyes filled with tears once more. Becky and Hannah were at my side in an instant.

'Oh, poor Andrew,' said Becky. 'What on earth is the matter with you this evening? First you choke on a vegetable and now you have banged your head.' She pressed my damaged head to her delightful bosom. Then, running her fingers through my hair, she announced that a nasty little lump was raising itself on my forehead. Under the delicious pressure of her ministrations, I was aware that a rather larger lump was pushing against the tight cloth of my trousers.