She nodded and so this time I lifted my arm high and brought down the slipper with a thwack which must have made her bottom tingle. I struck her again in similar smart fashion and her bum cheeks soon assumed a glowing, rosy hue as I administered a good, sound spanking. This pleased both girls for Nancy went down on her knees and sucked up my cock between her lips, palpating my prick so sensuously that my shaft swelled up to bursting point in her mouth. After a dozen strokes I threw away the slipper and led Rosa back to the bed where, as I surmised she would find her backside too painful to lie upon, I pushed her face downwards, her legs apart but on the floor and her forearms on the bed. She knew what was about to happen so she stuck out her backside for me to part the two tingling cheeks and I plunged my trusty cock into her warm, juicy slit from behind, my balls fairly cracking against her bottom. 'Keep going, that's the ticket!' she laughed merrily, and her backside responded to every shove as I pounded her pussey, driving home until, excited to such raging peaks, the contractions of her deliriously tight cunney lips sucked the spunk from my prick. The sweet friction of her pussey lips against the sensitive skin of my knob sent the sperm pumping through my shaft into her waiting love box as I thrust my twitching tool to and fro with all my youthful vigour. Nancy threw herself down to lie beside us on her back, her hands busy parting her pussey lips as she frigged herself excitedly, somehow managing to turn her head across to lick Rosa's gorgeous titties. My own climax was nearing and our surging cries of joy echoed around the room as the three of us began the journey down the road to ecstasy. Then I started to tremble and began shaking like a leaf from head to toe, until a huge wave of delight flooded through my body and I sent thick wads of creamy spunk crashing into Rosa's sopping cunney and she too screamed with delight as she shivered through a powerful orgasm just as the hot, frothy jism drenched her womb. Well, of course I would have liked nothing better than to have continued to fuck both girls throughout the remainder of the evening. But I had an important essay to prepare for Professor Webb and reluctantly ordered the girls to leave my room and go back downstairs. They were most disappointed and even my insistence on giving each of the girls a pound note as a farewell present did not mollify them.
'I bet you've already found some posh tart from one of the women's colleges. These girls are supposed to arrive here all sweet and innocent but it doesn't take them long to snap up any young boy who has had some experience and knows how to fuck like a gentleman,' sighed Nancy. 'Rupert, don't forget now, any time you want your cock sucked, please let me know.'
I smiled my goodbyes and with difficulty turned my mind to such stimulating legal matters as the rights of landlords and tenants and the ramifications of the judgement in the case of The Attorney General versus The Borough of Fulham in the High Court fifteen years ago. It was devilishly hard to concentrate upon such affairs. When I banished Nancy and Rosa from my mind, Beth and Esme stepped up smartly to take their place and when I finally forced them out of my brain, a picture of the beautiful Gillian Headleigh formed itself every time I tried to focus my eyes on the page. My heart began to pound as I remembered her words: 'meet me at this time tomorrow and you may fuck me for as long as you can keep your cock stiff!' The old, familiar tingling began to make itself felt in my groin. My hand wandered down to smooth itself over my shaft, but I had no need of the five-fingered widow after tonight's fun and games, and anyhow I needed to keep up my strength for Gillian tomorrow morning. So I cleared my mind of everything except the need to prepare for Professor Webb's tutorial and doggedly read six more pages from my textbook, scribbling some notes and memorising some important points before slamming the book shut, and after a refreshing warm bath I settled down in bed, as happy as a sandboy. As is still my custom, I picked up a newspaper to read for a few minutes before turning off the light and in the Oxford Mail my attention was captured by a report of the speech made at the Empire Club by Dr Whibley of Merton College attacking 'the monstrous encroachment of women upon the University' and how a mixed University- 'the dream of the farcemonger'-will lose its unique distinction. 'The university will be destroyed because once more the patent truth has been ignored that men are men and women women.' For how long will such reactionary views be propounded in this new twentieth century, I thought to myself as I chucked the newspaper on the floor in disgust, because no force on earth can turn back the clock once a sizeable proportion of the population (for better or worse) refuse to accept the old established order. By and large, women will never again be content with a subservient role in society despite the rantings of Dr Whibley and his ilk, and will rightly demand the same privileges and duties as men. As far as I was concerned, it was a most pleasant discovery to find out that inside the ivy-covered college walls, away from the prying gaze of the outside world, the opportunity arose for many girls to shed a cloak of modesty which could be safely stripped away. My first days in Oxford, alone and apprehensive as to whether I would be happy spending three years here, were miserable indeed-but after meeting these jolly girls who revelled in their new-found freedom, there was now no doubt in my mind that the student life had much to commend itself to a red-blooded young man who enjoyed the taste of forbidden fruit!
CHAPTER TWO. Extramural Studies
My heart sank when during breakfast the following morning a college servant presented me with a letter which had been hand-delivered by a young lady just half an hour beforehand. 'Damn and blast!' I muttered as I gave myself the mental odds of a pound to a penny that the envelope contained a note from Gillian canceling our mid-day tryst. At first glance my pessimism seemed to have been well-founded for indeed the letter was from this pretty girl and as I had forecast, she could not meet me as planned. But as I read on-my face broke into a smile for this was no mere cold cancellation but a hot-blooded billet-doux which I still have in my possession and so can reproduce it in full:
Dearest Rupert, First, the bad news; I cannot meet you as planned this morning because I have to attend a lecture which has been brought forward from four o'clock this afternoon. But this leaves me free from one o'clock and at the risk of sounding over-forward I would like to suggest that we meet for a late luncheon at Carlo's Restaurant which is in Woodstock Road just before the junction with Little Clarendon Street. If the weather is good we could take a bus or train to Woodstock and see Blenheim Palace. On the other hand, if it's raining, we could go back to my house as, like yesterday, my room-mates will be away until at least six o'clock.
Somehow, even if the sun is shining brightly, I think I can speculate what you would prefer to do and oh, Rupert, to be honest, I wouldn't be too disappointed if we went to Blenheim Palace on another day!
For if I were forced to make a choice between viewing the marvellous Blenheim gardens laid out by Capability Brown and sucking your cock, I would always plump for the latter. I do love sucking a fat juicy prick, caressing the red mushroomed crown with my lips and then washing it with my tongue. It is so thrilling when the shaft trembles in my mouth and so exciting when the frothy cream shoots out of the tiny hole and I can spread the sticky jism all around the knob with my tongue. I love swallowing mouthfuls of tangy spunk too and cannot think of anything that tastes so fine and clean. Enough now, for writing this frank confession is making my pussey damp and soon it will be crying out for relief which I can only partially satisfy by frigging myself. Only a proud, throbbing stiffstander like yours will be able to quench my voracious sensual desires… If you aren't free this, afternoon, leave a note at my house. Otherwise, I'll be at Carlo's restaurant at around twenty past one this afternoon and look forward to seeing you there. Love, Gillian Well, dear reader, I doubt whether you would have to ponder for more than a second about a choice between walking round Blenheim Palace or fucking Gillian Headleigh! The only problem facing me now was how to collect my thoughts for Professor Simon Webb's tutorial which would begin in ten minutes' time. Somehow I managed to concentrate upon my work and after what seemed an eternity the hands of the clock finally came together at noo
n. I gathered my books up in a rush and was about to fly out the room when the Professor beckoned me. 'Mr. Mountjoy, a quick word if you have a moment,' he said and though I could hardly wait to get back to my room to change I could hardly refuse to listen to a senior lecturer. 'I am inviting a few undergraduates over for an after dinner soiree in my quarters tomorrow night and I wonder whether you would care to join us at about half past eight?' This was an honour indeed and I accepted his invitation with sincere pleasure, especially as he had not, as I had reared, engaged in further discussion upon our work, which was just as well because already I had little time to spruce myself up before my appointment with the lovely Gillian at Carlo's Restaurant. In fact I arrived at Carlo's in good time and was welcomed effusively by the eponymous owner, Signor Carlo Justini, who has of course since found fame and fortune as the proprietor of the Trattoria d'Argento in Piccadilly which is patronised by the creme de la creme of London Society. 'Come this way, sir. Miss 'Eadleigh has booked a table in a private room upstairs. Perhaps you would like a glass of wine whilst you wait for her?' he suggested, but before I could even answer him Gillian had entered the restaurant and I greeted her. In front of Carlo we exchanged a formal handshake, though once he had brought us a bottle of chilled white wine and taken our order, I leaned over the table and kissed her firmly on the lips. Thank you for your lovely letter,' I said as I resumed my seat, 'but you win no prizes for guessing what I prefer to do after luncheon.' 'You mean then that I shall have to wait for another occasion to walk round Blenheim Palace,' she said, returning my smile. 'Well, I think I can live with this disappointment so long as you can provide me with an equally pleasurable entertainment this afternoon.' 'Gillian, I promise you that will prove to be no problem,' I assured her as our eyes met in a knowing glance and, when I felt her foot rub sinuously against my ankle, I knew that this sensuous girl was feeling just as randy as me!
But there was no huge hurry for we had until six o'clock to ourselves and we first enjoyed a delicious luncheon, the highlight of which was grilled chicken with a panzanella bread salad of plum tomatoes and parsley. We both ate sparingly for we knew that fucking on a full stomach is not a practice to be recommended. As we sipped our grappa, the little minx must have slipped off her shoes for I felt her silk-clad foot move up between my legs under the cover of the sparkling white linen tablecloth. Gillian giggled as Signor Justini bustled in with a fresh pot of coffee and she stroked the stiff length of my shaft with her toes. Have you ever fucked in a restaurant, Rupert?' she whispered throatily as her toes continued to stroke my stiffstander. 'No, but I'm more than willing to try out the experience,' I replied. Gillian leaned forward and as she was wearing a jacket with a low neckline, I was given a clear view of her firm, ripe breasts. 'Well, it's very nice to repair to a couch immediately after leaving the table, but as there is a nice, comfortable bed waiting round the corner, perhaps it would be as well to wait until another time. I do have a fondness for such sport you see, because it was in a private dining-room such as this at the Cafe Clive that I became a woman. 'Yes, Rupert,' she continued. I was first fucked by Sir Andrew Stuck, perhaps the randiest rogue in all London.' 'I hope he did not take advantage of you,' I commented, for even then I knew that an extra bottle of champagne often led to a remorseful morning. 'Oh no, I was more than willing to surrender my virginity to him. I was like the Lady of Kent in the limerick:
There was a young Lady of Kent, Who said that she knew what it meant When men asked her to dine And also to wine, She knew what it meant-but she went!'
I was keenly interested to hear more but Signor Justini knocked on the door and presented us with the bill. As I busied myself writing out a cheque, Gillian muttered: 'I'll tell you more about it when we get home, although you must fuck me first.'
'Your wish is my command,' I replied quietly as Signor Justini and his staff ushered us out into the street. It was less than five minutes' walk to Gillian's rooms and, as she had promised in her letter, none of the other girls in the house were present. We ran straight up to the bedroom and in an inkling we had shucked off our clothes and embraced each other's naked body as we rolled around on the soft mattress. 'My darling boy! Tell me how you are going to fuck me,' she cried. I thought for a moment and said: 'How am I going to fuck you, Gillian? Well, first I am going to roll you over on your back and then I shall mount you as I decide which way we shall first take our pleasure. To begin with, perhaps I shall simply lie on your belly and slowly insert my long, thick cock into your inviting little wet snatch. Then I'll push forward until my shaft is fully inside your velvety sheath before I pull it out and then tease the lips of your pussey with my knob. Then I'll crash my cock back inside your cunney and pump away, increasing the tempo gradually until I'm pistoning such hard, deep thrusts that my balls crack against your thighs. Then we'll come together, my throbbing tool spewing out a sea of sperm whilst your pussey creams itself with the sweet love juices from your hairy honeypot.' 'What a magnificent fuck that sounds!
But let me first salute your proud prick.' She dived down to brush my iron-hard member with her cheek as she licked my heavy, hanging balls with her wet tongue. I writhed in delicious agony as she transferred her attentions to my cock, licking the shaft from base to tip in long, languorous strokes. She moved round to make herself comfortable as she played with my prick, pressing it to each of her smallish but beautifully rounded breasts, squeezing it between them and then softly biting and tickling my purple knob with the end of her wicked little tongue. Then suddenly she thrust her mouth down and took my entire eight inches into her mouth and her salacious sucking almost brought me off there and then. It was far too early to shoot my load so I placed my hands gently under her shoulders and heaved her back onto the bed until she was lying down and she whispered: 'Suck on my titties, please, Rupert, this really makes me feel very randy.' She spoke the truth for she started to squirm as soon as my lips touched her stalky nip. As I sucked it into my mouth I ran my hands all over her body, lingering on her inner thighs whilst I took one and then the other rubbery red tittle between my lips, licking and lapping at the succulent flesh as Gillian's hand now circled and slid up and down my raging staff. Then it was her turn to pull my body upwards as she parted her long, slim legs and as I entered her I paused to savour the sensation as my mushroom helmet squelched its way inside her damp, soft-walled tunnel. She raised her legs high as our loins locked together, our hips bucking wildly as we thrashed around and I pounded in and out, my hands clasping the firm white globes of her backside as the spunk boiled up in my balls and thrust upwards through my pulsating penis. Alas, I simply could not wait for Gillian to climax and with a mighty groan I flooded her cunt with a torrent of warm sperm as jets of jism poured out of my prick so abundantly that her thighs were well lubricated. I withdrew my tingling truncheon, rubbing it amorously against the sticky lips of her pussey. 'Oh dear, I am so sorry,' I apologised as I rolled over to cuddle her in my arms, 'But I just could not hold back any longer.' 'There is absolutely no need to apologise, you sweet boy. You fucked me delightfully and I don't have to spend every time, you know,' she said generously. 'But surely it does matter,' I persisted. 'If you don't manage to climax then I must be doing something wrong.'
Gillian sat up and put a finger against my mouth. 'Let me give you some good advice, Rupert. You really must not become obsessed with timing your spend or you will be in danger of forgetting everything else! Although I grant you that some men do have a problem about spending too quickly, I assure you there is very little to be gained in holding back or forcing forward merely to achieve a simultaneous spend. 'Of course it can be great fun to climax together but this is but one joy of love-making which need never interfere with any other pleasures. Why, I've often found that spending at different times allows the partner who comes first to concentrate on exciting the other which can be very, very nice for them both.' Maybe I still looked doubtful for she added: 'Rupert, if you don't believe me, I'll gladly lend you my copy of that marvellous textb
ook Fucking For Beginners by Nigel Andrews and you'll read for yourself that what I am telling you is plain, simple fact.' Of course as I matured I soon realised the complete truth of Gillian's words though at the time they were spoken I did believe that she was perhaps slightly gilding the lily for my benefit. Anyway, I nodded my head in agreement and quickly changed the subject. 'What about telling me instead the story of how you were fucked by Sir Andrew Stuck?' I demanded as I threw my arm around her shoulders. She giggled and said: 'Oh yes, I mentioned something about my first poking by young randy Andy at the restaurant, didn't I? It was quite an adventure really as naturally I was still at Trippett's Academy. I had come home for the Easter holidays and I decided to visit my friend Estelle Kenton, who happens to be Andrew's cousin. I'd never met Andrew although like most girls of our class living in London I had heard of his reputation as a ladies' man. As luck would have it, Andrew had also decided to visit Estelle that fateful afternoon and when I was introduced to him I could see why so many young women (as rumour had it) offered themselves for his delectation. There's no getting away from the fact that he's a handsome chap with a friendly face and a witty turn of speech.
The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.II Page 7
