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

'On the condition that you will not fight against me, I will prove to you and the ladies and gentlemen present, that I am not trying to perpetrate a gigantic confidence trick.' 'Very well,' said Mrs.

Robinson and made her way up to the stage to an excited buzz in the audience. Campbell Armstrong gave her his chair and she sat down, looking directly at Dr Porterfield. He called for silence and then took out his pocket watch and dangled it on its chain in front of her.

'Just look at this watch,' he said, 'and follow its progress as it moves from side to side. There, you are feeling sleepy, very sleepy. Your eyes are drooping and now, on the count of three, you will be asleep, one, two, three.' The audience watched fascinated as Mrs. Robinson's eyes closed as she sat slumbering in her chair.

'Raise your right arm,' commanded the hypnotist and she immediately obeyed. 'Now when I tell you to do so, you will try and rest your elbow on your lap. But your arm is so light, as light as a balloon so though you want to bring it down, you find you cannot do so because it flies up again straightaway. Now, on the count of three, try to bring down your arm, one, two, three!' It was quite extraordinary how Mrs.

Robinson dropped her arm and that as soon as she did so, it shot up again as if of its own accord! 'Are your subjects able to speak under hypnosis?' asked Katie Harbottle. 'Oh yes,' said Dr Porterfield and, turning to Mrs. Robinson, told her to open her eyes.

'Now perhaps you will tell us if you received any visitors at home earlier today?' An innocent enough question to be sure-but what a Pandora's Box was opened when Mrs. Robinson replied that her friend Mrs. Thatcher had come round for morning coffee. 'Oh, yes,' said Dr Porterfield. 'And what did you talk about?' Mrs. Robinson replied: 'We had a most exciting conversation about Walsh, the new window cleaner who has taken over from Chamberlain who moved to Alwoodley last month. Walsh is a most personable young man and does his work far better than his predecessor.' 'He makes the windows shine brighter?' prompted the hypnotist. 'Never mind the bloody windows,' she said impatiently. 'It's his prick that Mrs. Thatcher and I were concerned about.' 'His what?' spluttered Dr Porterfield, who was as shocked as anyone in the hall. 'His prick,' she repeated. 'After all, Chamberlain was hardly up to completing his round any more, what with trying to satisfy up to a dozen ladies who wanted to be fucked during one working day. But I think Walsh will be able to cope. He came round yesterday afternoon and after he'd done his work he came into the drawing room-' 'Stop her, Dr Porterfield, tell her to stop talking!' said Campbell Armstrong urgently, pulling Dr Porterfield's coat-tails to attract his attention. But the unfortunate hypnotist's foot slipped as he turned back again to instruct Mrs. Robinson to keep quiet-though by now the cat was well and truly out of the bag-and he crashed over Reverend Armstrong's chair sending them both sprawling onto the floor. Although the curate was only slightly dazed by the impact, our poor speaker hit his head on the floor with a resounding crack and was as soundly out for the count as if a pugilist had felled him with an uppercut.

Barbara Dartland, who had undergone a first aid training course, frantically applied a cold compress to Dr Porterfield's head to revive him but, like the vast majority of the audience, I was far more interested in the revelations of Mrs. Robinson! She was well on her way telling us what she had told Mrs. Thatcher what Walsh the window cleaner had been up to after she had rewarded him with a glass of beer for cleaning her windows. 'He said to me: “Mrs. Robinson, I've always considered you to be a beautiful woman and you have one of the shapeliest figures in the village.” As I listened to his shameless flattery, sitting snugly beside him on the sofa, he slipped his right hand into my blouse, under my chemise and began gently squeezing my breast. I raised my hand as if to stop him but my nipple already had swollen up to the size and hardness of a little red pebble. Yes, I know that I should really have stopped him right there but between you and me, my dear Margaret, I liked the look of this muscular young man!

He then wormed his hand between my thighs and as we french kissed, he worked them into the leg of my knickers and touched the moistening lips of my pussey. My juices began to flow freely as my thighs tightened like a vice over his hand as I shuddered to a little spend as his fingers penetrated me. Then the naughty fellow began kissing my neck and throat and I suggested that we retire upstairs to a bedroom. He helped me undress down to my drawers and I lay back on the bed as he kissed my titties and my belly before rolling me over and kissing and licking me all the way back to my shoulders. My poor pussey was now sopping wet as he peeled off my knickers, kissing each inch of exposed flesh and he ran his hand lightly down the crack of my bum before rolling me back. He plunged his tongue inside my ear and then played the tip around my titties before his mouth travelled down to lightly bite the insides of my thighs. Then he drove me wild by licking and lapping at my dripping cunney and I was already on my way to paradise even before he found my clitty. He brought me off in style before I told him I wanted his prick inside me. Then he pulled off his shirt and undid his belt and let his trousers fall to the ground. Teasingly he told me to take off his pants so I carefully pulled them down over his hard, stiff cock. It wasn't that huge but his shaft looked well proportioned enough for a good fuck so, pulling back the foreskin, I rolled my tongue over his purple knob and sucked it right into my mouth. It tasted wonderful! This fully released my passion and I gobbled his cock until I felt it throb with desire. I released him so that he could climb between my legs and place his rigid rod inside my pussey. It stretched me nicely and I pulled my knees as far apart as possible to allow him to give me his full length. He fucked me beautifully with firm, pumping strokes, not too quickly, giving me the full benefit of his sinewy prick before shooting a huge jet of jism into my cunt as I squirmed my way to a tremendous spend. 'We clung to each other whilst he recovered but his cock was still semi-stiff when it slid out of my cunney. He raised himself up to his knees and the cheeky rogue placed his prick near my face. I reached out to hold the glistening shaft which was still wet from my juices and I decided to work him up to another full hard-on. I teased the knob by running the tip of my tongue all around the ridges of his helmet and then gave the underside a few quick licks and that did the trick, stiffening up his tool right back to its former firmness. I took his whole knob into my mouth and then eased in the rest of his stalwart staff. I bobbed my head up and down on his cock-three short, licking sucks followed by one long, fierce sucking was enough to send him off. The lusty lad was so excited by all this that in no time at all I felt his succulent cock shoving hard against the back of my throat and his hot, salty spunk was released and I felt it flooding down my throat. Walsh has got quite enormous balls, by the way, but by swallowing convulsively I drank every last drop of his copious emission, milking his tool of every last drop of the liquid of love. 'I managed to stiffen up his cock for one more fuck but then he had to leave as he was already late for Mrs. Humphries and she wanted some special servicing too!' concluded Mrs. Robinson. God knows what else she might have said but fortunately Barbara had by now revived Dr Porterfield and he quickly snapped the lady out of her trance. The audience had been stunned into silence, though one or two youths at the back had sniggered occasionally during her telling of this lascivious tale. 'There you are, I told you it was all hocus pocus,' said Mrs. Robinson with satisfaction. 'I'd better be going now as I forgot to pay Mr. Walsh the window cleaner yesterday and I'm expecting him back at the house.' This brought forth howls of laughter but, quite undaunted, Mrs. Robinson made her way to the exit.