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

'Well, that is the story of my first experience of the joys of love-making. As you can imagine we continued to fuck until Ronald simply had no more strength. I sucked his cock back to erection three times more that night before we crept back to our beds just as the first rays of the sun began to break through the darkness of the night sky.' Here Diana ended her tale and after giving me a grateful nod of thanks she drank deeply from the glass of lemonade which I had poured out for her. 'Did you see him again?' I asked, wriggling wound to try to accommodate my bursting cock which had naturally stiffened up to full erection whilst I listened to the stimulating story of Diana's sexual awakening. 'We did manage one more night of bliss. Alas, there were to be no other opportunities for us to indulge ourselves in any further fucking as Ronald and my brother had arranged to spend time with Professor Aspis, one of the world's leading authorities on bats, who was playing with our friends the Grove-Radletts, who live on the Kentish coast near Heme Bay.'

'Bats?' I echoed in astonishment. 'For God's sake, what's so interesting about bats?' 'Not a great deal as far as I am concerned, but Professor Aspis is paying the boys ten pounds each to assist him in catching a certain kind of bat which can only be found in caves around that area. Ronald has become quite fascinated by these little creatures, which ignorant folk think are sinister and demonic.

But, as Professor Aspis has shown, they play an important part in nature and are very helpful towards us as they eat many harmful pests.

In tropical climes, there are bats which feed on fruit and many trees are entirely dependent on bats to pollinate their flowers and disperse their seeds.' 'So if it weren't for the bats shifting the seeds-'

'- there would be a lack of wild species of dates, figs, guava and others,' finished Diana. So not only had I fucked my first girl but I had also learned something of the habits of the bat-material I would make good use of when Mr. Pilcher, our science teacher, set us an essay on a subject of our choosing. But my thoughts were still centred around matters connected with human biology-namely, whether the beautiful Diana would allow me to fuck her again before we parted. I even made so bold as to ask but she shook her pretty head and said: 'No Rupert, I really don't have the time. But meet me tomorrow afternoon around half past two in the old barn next to our stables and we can enjoy ourselves again there.' Her reply brought a gleam of pleasure to my eyes but suddenly my face fell-tomorrow morning I would be playing host to my chum Frank Folkestone. 'Drat it!' I exclaimed as I spelt out my predicament to Diana. 'No, don't worry yourself-bring Frank along and I'll ask my friend Cecily Cardew to join us,' she cried. 'We'll have some real larks, I promise you, if your friend can show her a good-sized stiffstander.' My heart leaped with joy. 'I'll say he can-Prank's prick is the biggest in our dormitory. When he gets a hard-on his shaft rises so high that the tip is on the same level as his belly button.' That's something Cecily and I will really look forward to seeing- goodbye, Rupert, and thanks again for posing so patiently.

When I've finished all my work, I'll frame my study of your body and give it to you for Christmas. See you tomorrow in the old barn.'

We kissed each other fondly on the cheek and I walked home briskly to arrive just in time for tea.

The sunlight was already beaming through my bedroom curtains when I awoke early the next morning. As usual, my sturdy young penis was as hard as a brick and, as was my regular habit, I gripped my smooth shaft in my right hand, frigging it slowly up and down as I closed my eyes and dreamed with lustful anticipation of what might be in store for me that afternoon. The previous evening I had tossed myself off twice thinking about how Diana Wigmore had sucked my cock and then later had allowed me to fuck her. It occurred to me that I should not spend this morning if I wanted to perform properly in the afternoon. But there was no way I could resist rubbing my prick in my closed fist until I had spent copiously all over my pyjamas. In my haste I had forgotten to reach out for the spunk-stained handkerchief I kept hidden in my bedside drawer! I have always enjoyed a good wank and take issue with those foolish folk who warn against the practice for supposed reasons of health or morality. On this occasion, though, after the riches of genuine fucking, the joys of self-induced simulation were but limited. I cursed silently as I leapt out of bed and unknotted the cord of my pyjama trousers. I put them in my laundry basket and hoped that the sticky stain would be undetected by the servants before the offending garment was washed. I looked at my watch. As it was only just after six-thirty, I decided to polish up some verses I had composed when I returned home after my fateful meeting with Diana. I sat at my desk and, after poring over an exercise book, pronounced myself satisfied with the following poem of praise to my new-found love:

Oh when I shall behold, my love, Your merry eyes, your fair-skinned face I cannot wait until my arms Enclose you in my tight embrace Yet though I've sworn so many times The world no sight can show, To match your locks, your lips divine, Your bosoms' hills of snow. For sweeter now is what I have seen, Two lips have I beheld And lovelier on a happy day, A mound which does excel. Your breasts can boast no swell as fair, No teats that these eclipse; Your lovely face can scarce compete With such enchanting lips. For now I've seen your hairy mount Where all your favours centre, Yes! I have fucked your juicy cunt And wish again to enter! 'Well, it might not stand up to a Shakespearean sonnet, but then neither should it be thrown back in my face,' I muttered to myself as I then jotted down the draft of a covering letter: Dearest Diana, I dedicate these verses to you – I can think of no better way to express my heartfelt love and gratitude for the way you initiated me into the joys of coition. I will never forget our glorious love-making as long as I live.

Your ever affectionate friend, Rupert I put the exercise book safely away (or so I thought at the time!) in my bedside drawer, resolving to copy out the poem carefully in my best writing and give it to Diana with a bunch of flowers which I could obtain from Stamford, our ancient head gardener, who had been employed at Albion Hall for the last thirty-five years. I then ran a refreshing cool bath. Doubtless because I could not clear my mind of the promised joys to come, my prick refused to lie down until my soapy face flannel had travelled up and down the shaft to provide the necessary manual relief. My father had already taken an early breakfast and left the house when I arrived downstairs, for the local petty sessions began today and he had sat on the bench as a senior magistrate since the family had returned home from India. My mother was also preparing to leave as she had a committee meeting of the Liberal Association to attend that morning. (Much to my father's chagrin, I should add, for he was a crusty old Tory. To his credit, though, it must be added that he simply accepted the fact that Mama and later myself were both wedded to a progressive political philosophy, even when we both staunchly supported the Suffragette Movement which demanded the right of women to vote.) 'Would you please pass my apologies to Frank, dear, as I doubt if I shall be here to greet him when he arrives,' said my Mama as she passed me the morning newspaper. This meeting will probably drag on until mid-afternoon as we have to choose our candidates for the forthcoming county council elections and for some reason there are more budding politicians than ever. Now your Papa has commandeered the motor car to drive to court and I shall need the Brougham so I suggest you go with Wallace in the landaulet to the station and meet your friend there. His train arrives at Ripley Valley station just before a quarter past eleven. Remember to leave in good time as it's market day and the roads are likely to be congested.'