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

'Keep going! Keep going!' she screamed as she arched her hips to welcome the approaching spend and happily Frank was able to continue to squirt his spermy white tribute inside her as she shuddered to a wonderful climax. The young couple sank back exhausted into the happy reverie that follows the opening of the gates of love and my own cock was now standing as stiff as a poker as Diana stood in front of me with a pensive look in her eyes. We kissed and as our bodies crushed together she slid her hand down to my backside and without warning slipped a finger into my arse-hole. I gasped with the shock and my shaft responded by butting forward blindly against her silky blonde muff. She released her finger from between my clenched buttocks and guided my cock to her pouting cunney lips. An exquisite sensation spread over my shaft as the hairy dryness of her bush gave way to the damp promise of her wet cunt. Rubbing herself up against me, she continued to urge my bursting knob inside her ever-opening crack.

Then, with the easy grace of a ballet dancer, she lifted her right leg and hooked it around my waist. At once my member slid at least halfway inside her cunt and, as I pressed myself deeper inside her salivating cunney, she carefully linked her hands behind my neck and swayed back to look at me at arm's length. “There you are, Rupert, fucking can be a most artistic affair when performed by an agile couple. Now, please hold me very tight.' As I did so, the graceful girl pulled herself towards me and raised the other leg, locking both her legs now around my waist and impaling herself completely upon my delighted prick. Clinging to me, she nipped and nuzzled my neck as I clasped her to me. She gave a small sigh and wriggled as if to take up a more comfortable position. I clung on to her waist as now she swayed back again but this time let go of my shoulders so that her body was arched backwards with her arms hanging loosely and her fingers trailing on the eiderdown. Then, as I supported my delicious burden, she slowly pulled her body back up to me, and I could feel the muscles of her back ripple under my hands as she repeated the movement. But this time, as she clung to me again, she lifted herself slightly, taking her weight now on her arms and pressing down but not too heavily upon my shoulders. With her legs still locked around my waist, this enabled her to smooth her cunney in an almost teasing way along my cock. I felt the butterfly touch of her erect little clitty as it rubbed its way exquisitely on my shaft which was made even more slippery by her free-flowing juices. Diana then began to rotate her hips and we began the inevitable journey towards our climax. I felt her cunt grip my cock even harder as we entered the final stages. She shivered and trembled as she first reached the desired haven and seconds later I too started to spend, spurting my hot jet of love juice inside her and Diana gurgled with joy as the frothy white cream filled her cunney and she shuddered with ecstasy as she milked my twitching tool of every last drop of sticky essence. We collapsed in a heap on top of Cecily and Frank and we stayed there in a tired but contented tangle of naked limbs. But the girls were not yet sated! Frank and I dug deep into our reserves of strength and produced two fine fresh stiffstanders and we developed an excellent fucking chain with Cecily on her knees, leaning forward to gobble my cock whilst Frank pushed his prick into her cunt from behind whilst he frigged Diana's pussey as the blonde temptress exchanged the most passionate of French kisses with me and I fondled her erect raspberry nipples that were as hard as immature pricks as I rubbed them between my fingers. To conclude this afternoon of lechery, the two girls lay down again and played with each other's pussies, each fingering the other as Frank and I knelt down to have our cocks sucked, mine by Cecily and Frank by Diana.

So ended Frank's first fuck and for both of us, a valuable lesson in recherchi fucking. We learned much from this lusty joust, not least perhaps, the necessity to experiment until one finds one's way to best please both oneself and one's partner. This is a most important maxim which I gladly pass on to budding cocksmen both young and not-so-young who may be reading my carnal confessions.

All good things come to an end, as my dear mama was wont to say, and to the chagrin of Frank and myself we only managed one further hectic bout of fucking with Cecily and Diana before the girls were whisked away unexpectedly only three days later by Cecily's parents, Sir Jack and Lady Cardew, to spend the rest of the summer at the sumptuous villa of Lord Zwaig, in the heart of the Dordogne region of southern France. We cursed our luck as we were looking forward to a summer holiday like no other, spending our days exploring the multifarious joys of love-making. However, this was still to be a vintage vacation for my sturdy young cock, for the very same morning that we heard the gloomy news about the impending loss of Cecily and Diana, the weather changed as it so often does in this country and the rain fairly howled down, leaving us no alternative but to spend the entire day indoors. Frank leafed through a copy of Country Life whilst I idly explored the books in a cabinet usually kept locked but which, on this afternoon, was unaccountably open. I picked out a thick volume covered for some reason not with a cloth or leather binding but by a plain wrapping of brown paper. My curiosity was aroused and when I opened the book to my great surprise I discovered that I had chanced upon my father's bound copy of The Oyster, an anthology of stories from the most salacious of illicit magazines. I had never actually seen the publication myself but Hammond, the captain of cricket at St Lionel's, once obtained a copy from a sporting acquaintance of his father. Alas, it never reached beyond the exalted studies of the sixth form landing before it was confiscated by our housemaster, Mr. Prout, after Hammond had carelessly left it folded inside his Latin text-book. Even more surprising to me was the fact that the book began with a special introduction 'on the delights of good fucking' penned by a frequent visitor to our house, one of my father's oldest and closest friends, that famed traveller of the Indian sub-continent, Professor Grahame Johnstone of Edinburgh University. 'Frank, you must come and look at what I've found here,' I called out excitedly to my friend. 'I can hardly believe it but my pater has been keeping a copy of something really fruity in this bookcase.' “You don't say,' he said as he ambled over to see for himself. 'Gosh! What kind of book is this? I've never seen anything like this in my life!' he exclaimed as he riffled through the pages and stopped at a fully coloured illustrated photographic plate. We pored over the picture which had, as its background setting, the inside of a cobbler's shop.

In the foreground, in full view of a shocked-looking clerical gentleman peering through the window, an attractive girl was shown on her knees, her breasts bared, pleasuring a happy young fellow whose trousers and drawers were round his ankles and whose veiny cockshaft was being lustily sucked by the comely red-haired miss. The caption under the lascivious photograph was: 'She was only a cobbler's daughter but she gave the boys her awl', a jocular play on words made even more amusing by its very rude complementary illustration.

There were several other such photographic plates, all artistically hand-coloured by Michael Harper We sat engrossed by this truly superb collection of coloured plates which showed girls and boys in the nude, both singly and together, enjoying themselves in a variety of love-making positions. Even more surprising was the fact that we were certain that one of the models was Mr. Newman, the former games master at St Lionel's, who left the school only the year before to take up a similar post at Eton College. If it were another gentleman, I would have been amazed for the likeness to Mr. Newman was to the tee, even down to the small appendectomy scar on his stomach.