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

Within a minute, all the boys brought out their pricks and tossed themselves off, Frank and myself included. The experience was hardly unpleasant but since I had tasted the joys of a genuine fuck, I found that taking oneself in hand is fine as far as it goes but is only the first step on the road to sexual fulfillment. I woke with the dawn the next morning and decided to go for an early morning run round Blodgett's Field, where football and cricket fixtures were played against other schools. Running before breakfast was a practice encouraged by Dr Keeleigh but not to excess for it was banned during the winter months. I rummaged through my locker and put on my athletic vest and shorts and went down the stairs as quietly as possible as I did not wish to wake up others who were still asleep. As I made my way out towards the front door I heard two of the servant girls who came in daily from the nearby village talking. I recognised the dulcet tones of Melanie, perhaps the prettiest and certainly the girl who was most often drooled over by the older boys. It was rumoured that she had gone for a walk with Claridge of the Modern Sixth Senior who had boasted that she had let him slide his hand inside her blouse. But most of us, perhaps from envy, did not believe him! I strained my ears and heard Melanie say: 'Yes, Dolly, so there we were, just the two of us in the changing room. Well, I didn't know at first that Geoffrey had gone in to take a shower, I thought the place was empty.'

'My, my, so it's Geoffrey now, is it,' said Dolly, her companion, with a laugh. 'It's plain Mister Ormondroyd to the likes of me and the rest of the girls!' My heart missed a beat-they were talking about my history master, a young man who had recently joined the school after leaving University. He had obtained his post at St Lionel's because Dr Keeleigh was always keen to keep a balance in the staff between youth and experience. 'Oh, go on with you,' said Melanie. 'Do you want to hear what happened or not? Yes? Well, I went in and heard Geoffrey singing in the shower I decided to stay around, especially when I saw his clothes lying in a heap on the floor. I peeped into the shower room and I saw him standing with his back to me under the shower, turning himself slowly round under the water jets, massaging the soap into his muscular body. What a fine figure of a man he is, Dolly, such a broad chest and such pinchable firm bum cheeks! When he turned round to the front I could take a long hard look at his big cock and it was so exciting when he soaped his shaft and it bounced up in his hand into the stiffest white truncheon you could ever wish to see! I don't mind telling you that my pussey started to dampen and I put down my mop and slipped my hand inside my blouse to rub my titties, which were already tingling unbearably as Geoffrey played with his prick, not knowing that an eager pair of eyes was watching his every move! 'So what did you do about it?' prompted Dolly, laughing lewdly as she sat down on the stairs to hear the end of the anecdote. 'What do you think!' retorted Melanie, sitting down beside her. 'I went back to the changing room and bolted the door. Then I took off my blouse and skirt and stood there with just my knickers on waiting for Geoffrey to come out. I didn't have to wait long and he was even more ready for action than I was, being stark naked except for a towel with which he was wiping his face. His cock looked heavy and juicy, swinging between his thighs so he couldn't have brought himself off in the shower, I thought to myself, which would help things along.

'“My God, Melanie, how did you get in here?” he gasped, hastily draping the towel round his waist. '“I wondered if I might have some private instruction in indoor games.” I said boldly, stepping towards him and pushing my body up against his. I could feel his prick rising as I reached down and pulled down the towel, letting his swollen tool jump up to stand high against his tummy. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed them downwards. He made no resistance as we sank to the floor and I thrust my titties in his face. He sucked them up marvellously as I clasped his massive cock and began to wank him. He then worked his hands inside my knickers and rubbed my pussey with the flat of his hand before he pulled down my knickers. Then he did something that's never happened to me before… he leaned down and pushed my knickers over my ankles and then screwed them up in his hand and began rubbing the bundle against my soaking pussey! He made a sheath for his finger with the wet knickers and frigged my cunney with it. He wiggled his finger to the hilt until my knicks were saturated with my love juice. Then he eased them off his finger and frigged me with his bare fingers. 'So I wriggled myself around to bring my face up to his throbbing prick. I popped my lips over the crown of his cock and curled my tongue around his helmet, licking away whilst I cupped his tight ballsack. But I wanted him to fuck me so I only tongued the tip of his knob before lying down on my back. “Push that big dick in my cunt,” I said and he didn't need asking twice! He slipped that fat bulb in my cunney. I came straightaway and could feel the juice running out of me, clinging to my pussey hairs as his cock crashed through my love channel. He kept ramming his well-greased tool until we were both screaming in delight until he filled me with his sticky spunk. We lay together and his shaft stayed hard inside me as I felt his sperm trickle out of my cunt and down over my thighs. I would have liked to have continued but it was neither the time nor the place. I had to finish my work and Geoffrey was the duty master at breakfast so we both went into the shower to refresh ourselves and got dressed again as quickly as we could.' 'Are you going to see Mr.

Ormondroyd, oh, sorry, I mean Geoffrey, again?' 'I should say so!

We've arranged to meet in his study tomorrow night at ten o'clock, I can't wait, Dolly! It's been three months since I've had a good fuck!'

I waited for the two girls to walk away before continuing my descent. Melanie's story had given me a huge stiffstander but I took Reverend Clark's advice and went for a brisk early-morning job instead of finishing myself off with a five-knuckle shuffle. It wasn't the chaplain and his dire warnings of perdition that stopped me relieving my feelings in the time-honoured fashion, but rather a gut feeling that somehow, somewhere, I was going to be involved in fucking. Since I was a small boy, my father had always told me to trust my instincts.

I did so now, despite the total lack of credible evidence that might point to such a happy state of affairs. As it happens, such trust was not to be misplaced-though I would never have guessed in a million years just how such serendipity between fantasy and reality would be achieved! I did, however, have to wait until the next day for my dream to be realised. It all started when, as he had promised, Dr Keeleigh called Frank and myself to his study just before luncheon to meet Prince Salman-or, as the headmaster added, Salman Prince as he would be known at St Lionel's. I liked the look of Salman from the moment we met-he was a tall, powerfully built chap with a firm handshake. 'Good to meet you, Mountjoy, and you too Folkestone,' he called cheerily. 'I hope I won't be a burden and I'm really grateful if you'll show me the ropes.' At this point there was a tap on the door and, of all people, Melanie came in. 'You wanted to see me, sir,' she said and Dr Keeleigh asked her to show Salman where the laundry was situated, to explain how the household facilities of the school were run, and to take him back to the Fourth Form Common Room afterwards. After they left Dr Keeleigh sat down in his superb red leather chair (donated a few years back by the Old Lionelsians on his fiftieth birthday) and said: 'There is just one further matter about which I want to speak to you. There may be, amongst some of the more vulgar of your form-mates or indeed other boys, a feeling of prejudice against our Indian Prince on the grounds of the colour of his skin. Any such foolishness is abhorrent in my eyes and in fact amongst the very highest in the land. “Mislike me not for my complexion” says the Moor in The Merchant Of Venice and it is an unfortunate fact that there will be those who may wish to make sneering remarks about Prince behind his back. If this happens, I want you to remind the offender that no less a person than His Majesty The King himself on a visit to India twenty five years ago berated some officials of the East India Company who spoke disparagingly about the natives. He told them that because man has a dark skin there is no reason why he should be treated like a brute.' 'Very good sir, but suppose someone says something out of place directly to the Prince himself?' ventured Frank. A rare twinkled appeared in Dr Keeleigh's eyes. 'Ah, I don't think that will happen more than once,' he chuckled. 'I don't intend to broadcast the fact that Salman has taken lessons in fisticuffs from Harry Willoughby, the professional middleweight boxing champion. He showed himself to be a willing pupil!