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

'“Fill me with your spunky cream!” I urged Andrew, who for answer plunged his face between my breasts, sucking furiously at my right nipple whilst the friction in my cunney reached new heights. His wonderful prick slicked in and out of my wet crack at an even faster rate, making us both breathless with excitement. I was finding out what the glorious pleasures of a good fucking could be as my fingers now dug into the flesh of his back and my bucking torso wildly sought more and more of his magnificent prick as our pubic hairs crashed together. All the time I squirmed lasciviously and I began to shudder uncontrollably as I felt my inner depths exploding into the most delicious waves of ecstasy which bathed me in a marvellous glowing release which flowed across every fibre of my body. Each spasm racked through me and I bit poor Andrew's shoulder, which made him pump even harder. Very soon I screamed with joy as he shot powerful spurts of spunk inside my receptive cunt, his rigid prick jetting its jism into my innermost cavities with such vigour that dribblings of our mingled love juices dribbled down my thighs. 'Slowly he pulled out his gleaming penis which was still hard and when I lovingly squeezed the shaft it throbbed with latent energy. I lowered my pouting lips and flicked my pink tongue across the massive dome, juicing his shaft with my saliva as I forced the ripe plum between my lips. He trembled as I moved one hand to massage the insides of his thighs and let the other cradle his heavy, hairy ballsack. Andrew moaned as I sucked on my splendid sweetmeat, until my mouth was full and I began to move my head forwards and backwards, slurping noisily on this monster rod which tasted so tasty with that unique masculine tang. His hands clutched at my hair as I closed my lips around it as tightly as possible and worked on his knob with my tongue, easing forward gradually to take in a little more of the shaft. I circled the base with my fingers and worked my hand up and down the shaft, sucking Andrew's delicious cock until the tip almost touched the back of my throat and I cupped his balls, feeling them harden until the frothy white sperm rushed up his shaft and my mouth was filled with gorgeous gushes of sticky foam as his prick bucked wildly while I held it lightly between my teeth. I gulped down his copious emission, gratefully swallowing every last milky drop of spunk. 'Not till his delicious prick had fully shrunk back to its normal flaccidity did I withdraw my lips and then we returned to the table to partake of some more coffee which was bubbling away on a tiny gas burner and Andrew and I toasted each other before we returned to the makeshift bed where he finger-fucked me to another delicious orgasm. We finished this lewd encounter with a final soixante-neuf before making our way downstairs where members of Lord George Lucas's party were also set to leave. '“Hey there, Andrew,” shouted out the good-looking young son of Viscount Sevenoaks. “We're going to continue celebrating my birthday at Matthew Cosgrave's house in Grosvenor Street-why don't you and your lovely companion join us there?” Andrew looked at me and murmured: “It's up to you, Gillian, I don't mind whether we join them or go straight back home. In all fairness, though, I must warn you that Charlie's parties have been known to, shall we say, get a little out of hand if what they tell me at the Jim Jam Club is to be believed.” '“Well, unless you are too tired, why don't we find out for ourselves?” I suggested. “We can leave at any time so long as your chauffeur is capable of getting us home.” '“Oh, there's no worry on that score, Grahame never drinks and drives,” replied Andrew and so we agreed to join Lord George's gathering which was to mean, dear Rupert, that although I had only just an hour before enjoyed my very first fuck, I was now to be introduced to the wild Bacchanalian revels of the fastest set in London.' At this stage she paused and giggled: 'I'll wager this lewd story has given you a big stiffie, you naughty boy.' She reached down to feel my throbbing prick which as she had correctly surmised was now at bursting point and I kissed her warm, soft lips and played with her hard titties which instantly aroused the sensuous girl. 'We need some exercise, Rupert, all this lying in bed is fine as far as it goes but we must put other muscles to use besides those in your cock and my cunney,' she said as she jumped out of bed. 'Come on, darling, you can fuck me in the Irish style, that'll be good exercise for us both.' I looked at her with a puzzled expression until she added: 'Some people call this method “the wheelbarrow position”. Does that mean anything to you?'

'Yes, I've read about this way of fucking in The Intimate Memoir Of Dame Jenny Everleigh but I've never actually tried it out. Still, experientia docet, so if you're willing, by all means, let's see for ourselves what it's like.' Gillian turned away from me and dropped to her hands and knees on the floor. I picked up her legs and supported much of her weight by holding her spread thighs so her arms could be fully extended and her lithe body was in a slanting position with her bottom on the same level as my cock. As soon as we were comfortable I pushed my knob forward between her bum cheeks-the only question now, as the snooker player might ask, was whether to go for the pink or the brown! I decided to slide my cock into her cunney and slipped in my length quite easily. It took a little while to achieve a satisfactory rhythm as she matched my movements with her own and I managed to 'steer' her into a position where my shaft slid very nicely in and out of her clinging sheath. I plunged in hard and in time the boiling spunk rose and, with a woosh, it surged out of my pulsating prick in a spend that seemed to last and last as I loosed a stream of sticky spunk into her dark, squelchy love-box. I withdrew and creamy drops of sperm dribbled down her thighs as I gently eased her body down onto the floor. She scrambled to her feet and kissed me, saying: 'Well, for a novice, you managed very nicely, though I must admit that I would only like to fuck this way very occasionally as it isn't the most comfortable position-it makes all the blood run into one's head.'

I was hardly surprised that Gillian was not too keen on this position for I was not that enamoured with it either-perhaps I'm old-fashioned but there's a minimum of physical contact involved and a lack of the emotional intimacy which I believe adds that little extra something to a good fucking. Mind, I'd rather take exercise in this fashion than run a mile before breakfast or in summer swim a similar distance along the River Windrush like my old pal Colonel Goldstone of the West Gordshire Rifles! And may I pass on a tip, dear reader, should you or your partner wish to try 'the wheelbarrow position' for yourselves? If the woman supports herself on a bed or chair, the man can place his arm round her middle and fondle her titties or pussey and she can turn her head and look at him, both of which allow a closer contact between the two of you. I find this variation preferable but as they say in that haven of devotion to the pleasures of the flesh, the Cock and Crop Club in Manhattan, 'diffrnt strokes for diffrnt folks'! We climbed back into bed and Gillian lay her head on my shoulder and toyed with my still damp shaft which was in a state of half limber resting on my thigh. She said: 'I suppose you would like me to continue this tale of debauchery, wouldn't you?'

'Yes, please go on, your words are so much more interesting than anything I've heard in my lectures!' She laughed and gave my balls a playful squeeze. 'Very well then- where was I now? Oh yes, we followed Lord George Lucas's party back to Matthew Cosgrave's house and there must have been about a dozen or so of us in the lounge toasting the birthday boy with a Jeroboam of Mr. Cosgrave's best champagne. We were all certainly a little worse for wear when one of the girls (who were all very friendly but remember, they were all from the chorus line at the Alhambra and, like most theatrical people, had few inhibitions) beckoned me to a corner where her friends had gathered. '“We're going to give Lord George a very special birthday present,” she giggled. “Do come and join the fun.” She signalled to Matthew Cosgrave who called for silence and announced: “George, my dear old fellow, in honour of your birthday, we would like to present you with a little something that you'll never forget.” '“How kind of you all,” murmured the dashing young peer who allowed himself to be led to a superbly made Chesterfield in the centre of the room as Carrie, the girl who had told me about the plan, explained what she and the others-Pippa, Lucy and Suzanne-had in mind.