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

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

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'He rose from his chair and grinned. “Humphrey's worked harder than me or he'd be down here too to cram for these bally examinations.

But golly, young Diana, you look spiffing. Wait a moment though, there's something different about you. What is it now, let me see…

By thunder, I have it, you've altered your dress. What's happened to that fringe of white lace?” 'I was not in the least embarrassed by his question and I replied: “Well, if you must know, I thought my figure was much nicer to look at than a frilly piece of material.” 'He put down his book and moved closer towards me. “My God, I should say so,” he said thickly. “I remember when your chest was as flat as mine.” “But no more,” I said, touching his arm with my hand.

“I'm sixteen years old now and fully developed.” His handsome face betrayed his struggle to keep his composure as I deliberately leaned forward to expose even more of my breasts to his excited gaze. He took a deep breath but said nothing, though I could see that this show of the snowy white globes deeply affected him. I looked steadily at his deep brown eyes and said softly: Why don't we sit down for a minute on the Chusterfield and talk?” Still without speaking, he took my hand in his own and we adjourned to the aforementioned couch.

I knew full well that Ronald was simply dying to touch me but he needed some further sign of encouragement so we chatted quietly about this and that. After a while I decided that I would have to make the first move so I put my hand on his shoulder and let it rest there.

This did the trick! Indeed, I had not expected him to be so forward for suddenly he spun me around, turned my face up to his and kissed me passionately on the lips. 'A surge of excitement coursed through my veins for there was something about this kiss which made it impossible for me not to respond. “Diana, you have always epitomised the very quintessence of female beauty,” he muttered. “Goodness me, that's quite a little speech, could you not speak plainer?” I said, though I knew well enough what his convoluted words were attempting to convey. Ronald swallowed hard and said: “I mean, my darling girl, that I have an overwhelming desire to make love to you.”

“You have never mentioned this to me before,” I said with a small smile, stroking his flushed cheek. “No, because you are the sister of my best chum and in any case I would never take advantage of a girl of tender years,” he replied hotly. “Your candour does you credit,” I said firmly. “However, I am not totally without experience of the joys of sensuality, though I have never actually made love yet-but now would be an appropriate time to remedy this, for as the country folk say around these parts:

When roses are reddest they're ready for plucking, And when she's sixteen, a girl's ready for fucking!” 'Ronald smiled at my rude verse and his hand slid gently from my shoulder down underneath my arm as he positioned me to receive a further intimate embrace. Now, as our lips crushed together in a burning kiss, I felt his hand close gently over my breast. At the same time his tongue sank inside my mouth. Then I could feel his hands lift out my naked breasts from their scanty covering and he toyed with them so excitingly, tracing circles around my hardening nipples with the tips of his fingers and then rubbing them deliriously against the palms of his roving hands until they stood up in salute like small red bullets. 'But my lips could not satisfy his ardour and soon he was passing his mouth over my cherry titties, kissing and sucking my nipples so sensually that I felt my pussey beginning to moisten. I was putty in the hands of a master builder for at this stage he leaned down to take hold of my ankle and began to caress it lovingly. I knew what was in Ronald's mind but I made no attempt to stop him as his hand worked its way up my leg and inside my thigh. A strangled cry of exultation escaped from his throat when his fingers reached inside my new pair of minute French knickers, a sub rosa purchase I made in Paris on my last visit to the Continent, and soon they became enmeshed with the silly hair of my pussey. Even at this stage, I was still just in control of my senses but I had no wish to end it all just yet.

Ronald's fingers played exquisitely with my thatch and when he began to roll down my knickers, I assisted his efforts by raising my bum so he could more easily pull them down. Once the tiny garment was over my feet, I stepped out of them and said: “Ronnie, did you know that the hair of my bush is as blonde as the hair on my head?” '“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see for myself,” he panted, moaning softly as with a deliberate carelessness I let my own hand brush against the prominent vertical bulge in the lap of his trousers.

'Without further ado I unbuttoned my dress and let it slide to the floor. I stepped out of it towards him totally nude, the first time I had exposed my naked body to a man. Feeling slightly decadent, I draped myself across his clothed body on the couch, and my pussey ached with excitement as Ronald began to tear off his clothes.

His muscular frame gleamed in the light afforded by our newly installed electric lamps. His face too looked so adorable, set off by his large eyes with their thick lashes whilst their dark brown colour matched so handsomely with his tightly curled hair. But the piece de resistance was of course his lovely prick which I now saw for the first time. It was exquisitely fashioned, bobbing out in front of him like a curved scimitar and his burgeoning erection had already partially pushed back the foreskin over the beautiful pink crown. All thoughts of control fled from me as I reached out and encircled his shaft with my hand, pulling down the foreskin to completely bare the full helmet of his cock which was already glistening with a blob of pre-spend that had emanated from the tiny “eye” on the tip of his knob. 'We fell back on the couch and Ronald stretched me out on the big sofa. He knelt alongside me and fervently kissed my breasts and belly- and when he placed his head lower I clutched it lovingly, moaning my approval as he pressed his lips against my silky blonde thatch. The sensations were simply divine and when I felt his tongue begin licking my pussey I almost screamed with unalloyed delight.

'“You have the most delicious cunney ever, Diana, and I could feast on it all night,” he said, raising his head for a moment before carrying on his sweet sucking of my cunt. These lewd yet complimentary words raised me to an even higher pitch of excitement when he parted the lips of my love chink with his wicked fingers and started to lap between my cunney lips. He relentlessly continued this thrilling stimulation, sinking his fingers into my moistening slit, making me tremble with expectation as he eased them deeper and deeper inside my pouting pussey crack. 'His tongue and fingers were delighting me to new peaks of pleasure that I had rarely before been able to climb.

My clitty was now tingling with an intense excitation as he cupped it between his lips and nibbled furiously at the erect little miniature organ of ultimate pleasure. He twisted his fingers around inside my cunney as I writhed wildly, clamping my legs around his neck, and holding his head pressed even harder against my now dripping pussey with one hand whilst the other flew from one nipple to the other, tweaking them up to attention as I felt an approaching spend begin its journey. Ronald must have sensed it too for he licked even harder at my clitty and his finger sped even faster out of my dripping slit and this fabulous pressure kept me at the highest pitch of ecstasy for what seemed to be a blissfully long time. He was a natural cunney sucker who clearly enjoyed eating pussey and I am sure that his devotion to this art-so shamefully neglected in this country although not, I am assured, by our American cousins- will always assure Ronald of an inexhaustible supply of women ready and willing to be fucked.

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