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

Her red titties rose like twin projectiles as I sucked them into my mouth and Polly leaned further forward, sticking out her tongue, thrusting it deep inside my mouth as I moved my chopper upwards in unison with the downward pistoning of her bum. She adjusted herself slightly so that I could now also feel her silk)' pussey hair and fleshy clit rubbing along the upper side of my cock, and she rocked backwards and forwards so that her furry mound pressed damply against my own pubic bush. We matched thrust with counter-thrust until I suddenly had a fancy to fuck Polly doggie-style and gently wrenching my lips from hers I asked if she had any objection to being taken from behind. 'Not in the slightest,' she gasped and obediently turned herself over onto her elbows and knees and raised the delectable soft spheres of her bottom high in the air. Cradling her head on her arm she looked backwards at me with a cheerful smile through the tunnel of her parted thighs. Like her breasts, her bum was beautifully divided and I was tempted to cork my cock into the winking little eye of her rear dimple, but below the glistening damp hair of her pussey hung like an inviting tropical forest. I let my shaft ease its own passage between her bum cheeks which I clutched in my hands. I slid directly inside her and started to fuck her juicy cunney with great relish. I pushed in and pulled out at a steady pace and I looked down with pleasure to see the white shaft of my cock disappearing into the crevice between Polly's buttocks like a gleaming piston of a river steamer. Deeper and deeper, but still with deliberate speed, I continued to fuck the quivering girl and she moaned and trembled whilst my cock scythed in and out of her squelchy cunt. I held Polly firmly just below her breasts as they swayed from side to side, the nipples touching the sheet as she lowered herself even further.

'Faster! Faster!' she panted and I raised the speed a notch, flashing my prick in and out of her juicy pussey at a quicker rate.

But I wanted to make these marvellous moments last as long as possible for I was determined to savour every second of this magnificent joust.

So I closed my eyes and tried to keep tight control over my balls which were already threatening to send a foaming gust of spunk hurtling out through my cock. After all, when would I be able to fuck Polly again? Already I would have to find time to service Gillian, Chrissie, Nancy and Beth on a regular basis let alone any other willing girl that came across my path. And I would not be surprised if Nancy ordered her cousin to stay away from my cock if I did not give Nancy enough attention. However, try as I might, the divine sensations of reaming Polly's slippery love channel soon finished me off and I could not withstand the early familiar feeling of an approaching spend. My balls tightened as, swollen with their load, they slapped against Polly's bum as I pushed inside her pussey one more time. Polly sensed that the end was near for she suddenly lay down and turned over onto her back, opening her legs to display her sopping cunney. Without pausing I immersed my prick inside her and the clever girl did not close her legs around me but opened her thighs even wider, which allowed me to move my shaft all around her love channel, plumbing any hidden depths which I had not previously touched with my straining knob. Her love juices now poured out from her, soaking the sheet as well as the back of her thighs as the first unstoppable surge of jism coursed its way through my cock and seethed out into her welcoming cunt. This set her off and she twisted in delicious agony as her body was wracked by great shudders which rippled out from her sated pussey as each jolt drove through every fibre of her body. She rose to meet me as again and again I rammed my spurting cock home and my balls banged vigorously against her bum as now a tide of blissful relief ebbed through me. My pace slowed and the last irregular spasms shook my body as Polly gave one final convulsive heave and then lay very still, her legs and arms splayed out, only her breasts still trembling from the frenetic climax which we had experienced. I slid my now shrivelled joystick out of her and moving down, replaced my cock with my face which I pressed against the wet warmth of her soaking pussey. I breathed in the aroma of our combined spendings and licked at her pussey hair that shone damply around her cunney lips. I licked the inside of her thighs before my head drooped and I rested it upon her pubic mound, thinking how a painter would rejoice in the chance to contrast the silky blackness of Polly's bush against the smooth unblemished whiteness of her belly and thighs. Now what would be Polly's verdict on my love-making abilities? 'Did you enjoy yourself?' I asked, looking up from my pillow of cunney hair. 'A truly wonderful fuck, Rupert,' she replied lazily, 'and your cock has passed its test with first class honours.' And she then paid me the most tremendous compliment by adding: 'My cousin was right-you have a beautiful cock and what is even more important, you know how to use it.' Thank you very much, Polly,' I said with what I hope sounded like a dignified modesty, though inwardly I smirked because those readers blessed with good memories will remember that Gillian Headleigh had paid me a similar compliment after I had fucked her when she had finished telling me the story of the orgy at Lord George Lucas's birthday party. There can't be an undergraduate in the whole of Oxford -or Cambridge for that matter-who wouldn't be greatly flattered by such a kind speech, and what makes your words extra special for me is that I have a friend, Frank Folkestone, whose rooms are just across the way, incidentally, who has the most enormous plonker and occasionally, when we have been together with young ladies au naturel, I don't mind telling you that once or twice I've been miffed when one of the girls starts talking so admiringly about the huge size of Frank's bell-end.'

The size of a cock never really matters though I know that all you boys think that an extra couple of inches would come in handy,' said Polly, echoing the words of Gillian and Chrissie after the aforementioned fuck. 'And I admit that the sight of nine inches of proud, rock-hard cockflesh can often excite me. But for me and most of the girls I know it's the look of the owner of the prick which is far more important. We want to see if a man is dean, well turned-out, jolly, generous-and we all have little special likes and dislikes when it comes to physical appearances. For instance, I like a neat, tight bum myself and my cousin Nancy certainly knows what she fancies in a man.' 'And what does she specially like?' She gave a naughty little giggle. 'Well, come to think of it, there isn't much that Nancy doesn't fancy about a man,' she giggled naughtily, 'and in fact she has already warned me about your friend Frank's big cock. I haven't fucked as much as Nancy but one of my best lovers was the local policeman in the little village near Lord Brecklesbury's country house outside Witney, where I worked till Nancy found me a position here when I told her I wanted to live in town. His prick was thick enough but it only stood at less than five inches from base to tip, though he almost always managed to bring me off every time we made love.' I record Polly's comments in toto for as a noted cocksman, I cannot overstress the importance of her observation which had been mirrored of course by Gillian and Chrissie as well as by my very first fuck, the delicious Diana Wigmore, who had always impressed upon me the importance of never worrying about the dimensions of my equipment or about the fact that at times my young prick might jump up to attention for no apparent reason or that it might obstinately refuse to swell up when required-say when the lovely girl you have been wooing finally consents to place her hand inside your trousers! However, it was time for Polly and I to get dressed for she had further chores to get through whilst I knew that I would find myself in real trouble if I did not make my way post-haste to the library. I kissed the charming girl goodbye and we made an arrangement to see each other the next week when to her great joy I promised to take her to the first house of the music hall and on to a cafe for some supper. For the second time that morning I gathered my books together and told myself that nothing would stop me from going to the library except a visit to the college from His Majesty, King Edward VII, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India 'and all stations south of Birmingham,' I muttered to myself as I raced down the stairs, determined to put in at least an hour's work before luncheon. But it was not to be! For who should I meet at the foot of the stairs but Beth Randall and Esme Dyotte, the two girls with whom Barry Jacobs and myself shared a splendid night's fucking courtesy of our host Mr. Waterbrick of The Cat and Pigeons.