Rupert Mountjoy - The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.III

'Hello, Rupert,' she said softly, as she brushed her hip against my groin. 'Don't forget now that I'll be in your room at eleven o'clock and I might have a nice little surprise for you. But don't worry, I've already taken off my knickers and I'm looking forward to milking your thick prick all night. Just as well it's my day off tomorrow so I don't have to get up too early.' I gave the frisky girl a glassy smile before running downstairs and just as I was about to open the door of the drawing-room, old Goldhill called out to me from across the hall. 'Just one minute, sir, if you please, I must speak to you.' His tone sounded urgent so I said with slight irritation, 'What is it, Goldhill? Can't it possibly wait till later?

I'm in a bit of a hurry just now.' 'Sorry, Mister Rupert, I won't keep you long but it is a rather important matter,' said the butler, as he hurried across to me and lowered his voice. Took, sir, I think you should know that Alison, our new housemaid, celebrates her eighteenth birthday tomorrow. She has taken a great shine to you and she has told me that the nicest present of all would be being fucked by Mister Rupert whenever he has a spare hour or two. Another honeypot to be sampled! Now whilst I was flattered to be fancied by a girl who I had not yet even clapped eyes upon, the forthcoming evening was threatening to get out of control! I steeled myself to tell Goldhill that Alison would have to wait her turn when a mop of bright blonde hair appeared around the corner of the door leading to the kitchen and scullery. The owner of this tousled mass then showed her face for a couple of moments and Goldhill called out, 'Very well, Alison, I'll be with you very shortly.' All thoughts of postponing my prick's appointment with the new maid fled rapidly from my brain for Alison was quite stunningly pretty with cornflower blue eyes, a tiny nose but with generously wide red lips and I caught a glimpse of her smile which showed off two pearly white rows of teeth.

So I said to Goldhill, 'I'll try to fit Alison in after dinner tonight. Please tell her to come to my room just before midnight. But I've never even met the girl and she can only have seen me for a few moments this afternoon, so I'm rather puzzled as to why she has been so attracted to me.' The silver-haired servant scratched his head and said, 'To be truthful, sir, I didn't ask, but my guess is that her appetite has been whetted by Polly who never tires of talking in some detail about the uproarious night with you and Master Frank Folkestone some years ago when she was a mere slip of a girl.' A slow smile crept over his face and I also chuckled as I said, 'Well, she may have only been sweet sixteen but by Jove, she was far more experienced than either of us. In fact, if my memory serves me right, we first encountered Polly Aysgarth when she was bending over the scullery table with your John Thomas pressed between her luscious bum cheeks.'

'Very true, sir, Polly adores fucking although I have never had the pleasure of conjoining with her again as she is well-served by some lusty young bucks in the village. Actually, soon after the event you have just mentioned, she went down to London to serve in Lord Borehamwood's town house in Belgravia. But she did not enjoy the experience and your mother was kind enough to take her back about six months later.' 'Oh yes, of course, Mama did mention it in a letter whilst I was up in Oxford. I was surprised when I heard the news because Polly always wanted to go to London. Do you know why she came back here?' Goldhill cleared his throat and murmured, 'I understand that his lordship has somewhat strange tastes when it comes to intimate affairs. Apparently most of his loves are of the homosexualist variety, although he did occasionally take a girl to bed. But his demands were very odd- the only way he could achieve an erection was if Polly dressed up like a schoolboy and caned his bare behind. Even then, all he wanted was for her to suck him. He never fucked her all the time she was in his service.' 'What very odd behaviour,' I agreed as I pushed open the drawing-room door, 'especially when there's an eager, willing wench like Polly on hand.

Anyhow, Goldhill, don't forget to tell Alison to come for her birthday present just before midnight and she'll see that at Albion Towers we don't have such nonsense as poor Polly had to put up with in London.'

'Ah, there you are, Rupert,' said my father crossly as I entered the drawing-room. 'Your mother was about to send out a search party.'

'Sorry to have been so long but I was just giving Nancy the usual lecture on the more interesting aspects of local history,' I said, making for the whisky which stood on a silver salver on the sideboard.

'An oral lesson, eh? I wonder who was the teacher and who was the pupil,' muttered Henry, who was standing by me. 'Don't fret, Henry, you'll find out for yourself later on,' I advised him cheerfully. 'Can I offer anyone a drink?' 'No, thank you dear,' said my mother, rising to her feet. I suggest you drink only soda or you can ask Polly to bring you some more tea. We'll dine at the usual time and your father has favoured us with the best bottles in the cellar to complement Mrs. Randall's excellent cooking, haven't you, dear?' My father grunted, 'Well, I've done my best to provide something worth drinking. We'll start with champagne, and, for those who prefer to change to a non-sparkling wine for the fish course, there'll be a 1902 Pinot Blanc-I've already told Goldhill to chill half a dozen bottles in the ice-box. I'm putting out the last of the chateau bottled Beaune from Count Gewirtz's vineyards which will go splendidly with the beef and there'll be a sweet wine, of course, afterwards for the desserts. We'll serve that 1903 Chateau d'Yquem I bought last time we were in Bordeaux. 'So it would be foolish to begin imbibing heavily before dinner,' he said meaningfully with a disapproving look in my direction. I accepted the implied rebuke and splashed some plain soda into a glass as my mother said to me, 'By the way, dear, I forgot to mention that your Aunt Penelope will also be joining us for dinner. Unfortunately, as Uncle Stephen has been called to London on business, she will come alone and stay the night here. And that reminds me, I'd better make sure her bedroom is ready.'

My father looked less than ecstatic at the news and after my parents left the room, Henry said, 'Your father gave the impression that he was hardly overjoyed at the news of an extra guest, although you looked far more pleased to hear than an old aunt was dining with you.' 'Ah well, for a start. Aunt Penelope isn't old. She's a very attractive woman in her mid-forties and about ten years younger than her husband. Uncle Stephen. And she's not an aunt in the strict sense of the word. Penelope and Stephen Trelford-Neil are perhaps my parents' closest friends and I grew up with Alicia and Georgina, their twin daughters, although I haven't seen the girls since they went to Italy last year for an extended stay with Uncle Stephen's brother who is the commercial attache at our embassy in Rome. 'Aunt Penelope is a keen amateur artist and I suppose my mother thought that she would be interested to meet you and Nancy. I like her very much and I'm sure you'll also enjoy her company. My father has always admired Aunt Penelope (in fact I think he harbours naughty ideas about her) but since she has also become a keen member of the women's suffrage movement, he and Uncle Stephen tend to drown their sorrows together whilst my mother and Aunt Penelope go round the county drumming up support for votes for women.' 'She sounds a feisty lady and I look forward to meeting her,' said Henry and, after I had swallowed down my soda, we went upstairs to prepare for dinner. 'You've never mentioned your Aunt's twin daughters,' said Henry suddenly, pausing at the entrance of his bedroom. 'Have you been keeping some wicked secrets from me as far as they are concerned? Having a pretty set of twins together is one of my unfulfilled fantasies.' I laughed and said, In that case you would be even more frustrated if you ever met Alicia and Georgina. They are only nineteen years old and although not identical twins, they do look very much alike.' 'And are the two girls both attractive?' he asked. 'Absolutely ravishing, old boy, but I've never had the opportunity to progress further than a kiss under the mistletoe at Christmas parties,' I said regretfully, as it had been my ambition to bed the heavenly twins.