'Andrew is one of those chaps who is so blessed with the gift of the gab that if fate had placed him in a different strata of society he would have made an excellent career as a salesman in one of these new huge emporiums in the West End. To cut short a long story, before he left us, Andrew asked me to dine with him the following evening. Normally I would have had to ask permission from my parents but they were spending a few days away in the country with some friends so I was free to accept Andrew's invitation without any hindrance. He called for me punctually at eight o'clock in his new motor vehicle and as Grahame, his chauffeur, drove through Oxford Street Andrew told me that he had booked a table at the Cafe Clive in Museum Street, Bloomsbury. Now I had read about this establishment in the illustrated papers and knew it to be a favourite haunt of the smart 'fast' set, and this already added an extra spice to the evening. 'When we arrived there was already quite a gathering at the restaurant as Lord George Lucas had booked a table to celebrate his birthday. Along with a clutch of other young men his party consisted of chorus girls from the musical comedy at the Alhambra Theatre which was due to open in three days' time. This merry throng dominated the atmosphere but I found it all terribly exciting, especially when the handsome Lord George himself came up to our table.
“Hello, Andrew, you lucky so-and-so. How in heaven's name did you manage to persuade this gorgeous young lady to dine with you tonight? “I don't think I've had the pleasure,” he added as he turned to me, his sensuous grey eyes locked into mine, and I smiled demurely, trying hard to act the part of a shy, blushing maiden.
'“Yes you have, George, but not with that pretty girl,” called out one of his friends from his table. “At least, not yet!” 'Andrew was not overpleased by Lord George's intervention especially when the young peer invited us to join his party, and he murmured his thanks after I had politely declined and Lord George returned to his guests, where his jolly friend Mr. Stockman was regaling the company with a risque story about how he had recently encountered a pretty young woman who turned out to be a witch whilst driving his carriage along a country lane. He knew she was a witch for when she put her hand on the front of his trousers he turned into a lay-by! 'We enjoyed a splendid meal and then Andrew suggested that we took our coffee and liqueurs in one of the small private rooms upstairs. Monsieur c live himself ushered us into the room which was richly decorated with fine furnishings. I noticed immediately that what appeared to be suspiciously like a bed frame and mattress stood in a corner, covered in cream linen sheets along with two big matching pillows plumped up against the wall. I said nothing but sat across the table from Andrew who poured out two steaming cups of black coffee as he asked me whether I would care to join him in a glass of cognac or some other liqueur from the clutch of bottles on the small sideboard.
I accepted his offer of coffee and chose a kummel to accompany it.
'We held hands as we talked and Andrew must have slipped off a shoe for I felt his foot insinuate itself between my ankles and I was so aroused as his toes moved higher and higher that my silk knickers were soon damp even before his foot had reached my thighs! 'I shall spare us both further blushes except to admit that I was no match for Andrew Stuck's polished technique of seduction. In my defence I shall simply say that few girls could resist the charms of this handsome, wealthy young baronet and very shortly afterwards he moved round to sit next to me and we exchanged a passionate kiss. As his tongue probed inside my mouth I felt his hand fondling my breasts.
“What divine bosoms, Gillian. I am sure your titties will be as beautiful to the eye as they are to the touch.” 'After this sweet compliment Andrew unbuttoned my dress and gently eased off the front of my chemise so that my naked breasts lay in his hands. We kissed again and he squeezed my nipples so wonderfully that they became hard and pointed. He rubbed them between his fingers and as he stroked them he put his head down and began to kiss and suck my erect little red soldiers. 'Soon I was lying naked and trembling on the bed watching him undress and admiring his wiry, athletic body-and no doubt like so many girls before and after this experience, I gasped with wonderment when he pulled down his drawers to reveal his astonishingly thick prick which sprang upwards from the mass of black hair at the base of his belly. Although technically I was still a virgin (though I had often used the ladies' comforter I had purchased by mail-order from Madame Nettleton's -you must have seen their advertisements in Society News with their famous guarantee that “all purchases are sent in discreet plain parcels”-and had previously frigged and sucked a certain number of cocks) I knew that Andrew would want to fuck me, but I was worried that I could never accommodate that enormous shaft inside my little cunney. 'Andrew took me in his arms as he knelt down and laid down beside me. His French cologne smelled beautifully and I revelled in the sensation of his abundant chest hair tickling my so sensitive nipples. Our bodies pressed even closer together and he put his hands around my bum cheeks which pushed his huge cock against my soft tummy. At first I didn't hold it as I had no desire to appear a wanton but I could not resist letting my hand wander across the enormous shaft when his right hand slithered around from my bottom and the palm of his hand rubbed itself against my pussey, which was by now moistening like a dew-drenched flower in eager anticipation of what was to come. 'But before we proceeded any further down the path of passion, Sir Andrew Stuck showed himself to be a true aristocrat.
“I would love to fuck you, dearest Gillian,” he whispered quietly, “but you are only seventeen years old and may well be a virgin. I do not want you to regret this evening so even now if you decide to hold back, I will respect your wishes.” These kind and caring words made my heart warm even more towards this considerate young man and looking steadily into his sensual dark eyes I said softly: “Andrew, I very much want you to fuck me. Yes, I am a virgin in that no cock has ever actually entered my love-tunnel, but I lost my hymen some time back thanks to all the frigging and the joys of Madame Nettleton's famous dildoes!” 'With a smile he nodded his head but still asked again: “So you are absolutely certain that you want to be fucked, Gillian?” '“Yes, oh yes, very, very much-and right now!” I answered with some vehemence and I grasped his meaty tool, making a fist around the pulsating shaft with my fingers and I gently masturbated this tremendous love-truncheon as his fingertips slid their way into my juicy cunney. He now raised himself over me and plunged his head down to wash his tongue for a second time over my titties and I arched my back upwards as he licked so thoroughly that when I passed a hand over my tittie it felt as hard as an unripe red berry. For a split second our hot eyes locked together as I took his bursting cock in both hands and placed the purple domed helmet against the pouting cunney lips which were more than ready to receive it. He carefully inserted an inch or so of his tremendous tadger as he moved forward to lay on top of me. I spread my legs as wide as possible and wrapped my legs around his waist as our lips collided and meshed together.
'I had been concerned that I would be unable to accommodate Andrew's monster chopper but I discovered that by wriggling my bottom to and fro I could embed even more of this thick bell-end inside my cunt. As if by magic, further and further inches of pulsing prick disappeared into my creamy cunney as my pussey lips engulfed more and more of his great boner until, with a convulsive jerk of his loins, his cock was fully inserted to the very root and I cried out with glee as our bodies moved up and down in unison. What a glorious first fuck this turned out to be! How tightly my saturated slit held on to Andrew's throbbing tool! We gloried in each other's thrusts as my love juices dripped against his balls as they slapped against my bum. I implored him to drive deeper by twirling my tongue in his mouth and my buttocks rotated almost savagely in his broad palms as his lusty, gleaming joystick drove furiously into my soft depths.
'“Fill me with your spunky cream!” I urged Andrew, who for answer plunged his face between my breasts, sucking furiously at my right nipple whilst the friction in my cunney reached new heights. His wonderful prick slicked in and out of my
wet crack at an even faster rate, making us both breathless with excitement. I was finding out what the glorious pleasures of a good fucking could be as my fingers now dug into the flesh of his back and my bucking torso wildly sought more and more of his magnificent prick as our pubic hairs crashed together. All the time I squirmed lasciviously and I began to shudder uncontrollably as I felt my inner depths exploding into the most delicious waves of ecstasy which bathed me in a marvellous glowing release which flowed across every fibre of my body. Each spasm racked through me and I bit poor Andrew's shoulder, which made him pump even harder. Very soon I screamed with joy as he shot powerful spurts of spunk inside my receptive cunt, his rigid prick jetting its jism into my innermost cavities with such vigour that dribblings of our mingled love juices dribbled down my thighs. 'Slowly he pulled out his gleaming penis which was still hard and when I lovingly squeezed the shaft it throbbed with latent energy. I lowered my pouting lips and flicked my pink tongue across the massive dome, juicing his shaft with my saliva as I forced the ripe plum between my lips. He trembled as I moved one hand to massage the insides of his thighs and let the other cradle his heavy, hairy ballsack. Andrew moaned as I sucked on my splendid sweetmeat, until my mouth was full and I began to move my head forwards and backwards, slurping noisily on this monster rod which tasted so tasty with that unique masculine tang. His hands clutched at my hair as I closed my lips around it as tightly as possible and worked on his knob with my tongue, easing forward gradually to take in a little more of the shaft. I circled the base with my fingers and worked my hand up and down the shaft, sucking Andrew's delicious cock until the tip almost touched the back of my throat and I cupped his balls, feeling them harden until the frothy white sperm rushed up his shaft and my mouth was filled with gorgeous gushes of sticky foam as his prick bucked wildly while I held it lightly between my teeth. I gulped down his copious emission, gratefully swallowing every last milky drop of spunk. 'Not till his delicious prick had fully shrunk back to its normal flaccidity did I withdraw my lips and then we returned to the table to partake of some more coffee which was bubbling away on a tiny gas burner and Andrew and I toasted each other before we returned to the makeshift bed where he finger-fucked me to another delicious orgasm. We finished this lewd encounter with a final soixante-neuf before making our way downstairs where members of Lord George Lucas's party were also set to leave. '“Hey there, Andrew,” shouted out the good-looking young son of Viscount Sevenoaks. “We're going to continue celebrating my birthday at Matthew Cosgrave's house in Grosvenor Street-why don't you and your lovely companion join us there?” Andrew looked at me and murmured: “It's up to you, Gillian, I don't mind whether we join them or go straight back home. In all fairness, though, I must warn you that Charlie's parties have been known to, shall we say, get a little out of hand if what they tell me at the Jim Jam Club is to be believed.” '“Well, unless you are too tired, why don't we find out for ourselves?” I suggested. “We can leave at any time so long as your chauffeur is capable of getting us home.” '“Oh, there's no worry on that score, Grahame never drinks and drives,” replied Andrew and so we agreed to join Lord George's gathering which was to mean, dear Rupert, that although I had only just an hour before enjoyed my very first fuck, I was now to be introduced to the wild Bacchanalian revels of the fastest set in London.' At this stage she paused and giggled: 'I'll wager this lewd story has given you a big stiffie, you naughty boy.' She reached down to feel my throbbing prick which as she had correctly surmised was now at bursting point and I kissed her warm, soft lips and played with her hard titties which instantly aroused the sensuous girl. 'We need some exercise, Rupert, all this lying in bed is fine as far as it goes but we must put other muscles to use besides those in your cock and my cunney,' she said as she jumped out of bed. 'Come on, darling, you can fuck me in the Irish style, that'll be good exercise for us both.' I looked at her with a puzzled expression until she added: 'Some people call this method “the wheelbarrow position”. Does that mean anything to you?'
'Yes, I've read about this way of fucking in The Intimate Memoir Of Dame Jenny Everleigh but I've never actually tried it out. Still, experientia docet, so if you're willing, by all means, let's see for ourselves what it's like.' Gillian turned away from me and dropped to her hands and knees on the floor. I picked up her legs and supported much of her weight by holding her spread thighs so her arms could be fully extended and her lithe body was in a slanting position with her bottom on the same level as my cock. As soon as we were comfortable I pushed my knob forward between her bum cheeks-the only question now, as the snooker player might ask, was whether to go for the pink or the brown! I decided to slide my cock into her cunney and slipped in my length quite easily. It took a little while to achieve a satisfactory rhythm as she matched my movements with her own and I managed to 'steer' her into a position where my shaft slid very nicely in and out of her clinging sheath. I plunged in hard and in time the boiling spunk rose and, with a woosh, it surged out of my pulsating prick in a spend that seemed to last and last as I loosed a stream of sticky spunk into her dark, squelchy love-box. I withdrew and creamy drops of sperm dribbled down her thighs as I gently eased her body down onto the floor. She scrambled to her feet and kissed me, saying: 'Well, for a novice, you managed very nicely, though I must admit that I would only like to fuck this way very occasionally as it isn't the most comfortable position-it makes all the blood run into one's head.'
I was hardly surprised that Gillian was not too keen on this position for I was not that enamoured with it either-perhaps I'm old-fashioned but there's a minimum of physical contact involved and a lack of the emotional intimacy which I believe adds that little extra something to a good fucking. Mind, I'd rather take exercise in this fashion than run a mile before breakfast or in summer swim a similar distance along the River Windrush like my old pal Colonel Goldstone of the West Gordshire Rifles! And may I pass on a tip, dear reader, should you or your partner wish to try 'the wheelbarrow position' for yourselves? If the woman supports herself on a bed or chair, the man can place his arm round her middle and fondle her titties or pussey and she can turn her head and look at him, both of which allow a closer contact between the two of you. I find this variation preferable but as they say in that haven of devotion to the pleasures of the flesh, the Cock and Crop Club in Manhattan, 'diffrnt strokes for diffrnt folks'! We climbed back into bed and Gillian lay her head on my shoulder and toyed with my still damp shaft which was in a state of half limber resting on my thigh. She said: 'I suppose you would like me to continue this tale of debauchery, wouldn't you?'
'Yes, please go on, your words are so much more interesting than anything I've heard in my lectures!' She laughed and gave my balls a playful squeeze. 'Very well then- where was I now? Oh yes, we followed Lord George Lucas's party back to Matthew Cosgrave's house and there must have been about a dozen or so of us in the lounge toasting the birthday boy with a Jeroboam of Mr. Cosgrave's best champagne. We were all certainly a little worse for wear when one of the girls (who were all very friendly but remember, they were all from the chorus line at the Alhambra and, like most theatrical people, had few inhibitions) beckoned me to a corner where her friends had gathered. '“We're going to give Lord George a very special birthday present,” she giggled. “Do come and join the fun.” She signalled to Matthew Cosgrave who called for silence and announced: “George, my dear old fellow, in honour of your birthday, we would like to present you with a little something that you'll never forget.” '“How kind of you all,” murmured the dashing young peer who allowed himself to be led to a superbly made Chesterfield in the centre of the room as Carrie, the girl who had told me about the plan, explained what she and the others-Pippa, Lucy and Suzanne-had in mind.
I don't mind telling you that I was a little shocked but as I said just before, we were all quite riddley from the champagne which was flowing like water. 'Anyhow, Lord George sat on the Chesterfield and as quick as a flash he had the four girls piled on top of him.
&
nbsp; Pippa and Lucy held down his legs whilst Carrie and Suzanne pinioned his arms, though to be truthful I can't say that our birthday boy struggled overmuch against the overpowering odds! “Gillian, I need your help,” cried out Carrie, who was a real stunning girl of no more than twenty at the most blessed with an exquisitely rounded figure and an extremely pretty face with deep blue eyes set off by long dark lashes, a full mouth and a brilliant set of pearly teeth. I hurried across and took her place, holding down Lord George's left arm against the soft leather upholstery. '“Are you going to feed him some birthday cake, girls?” laughed Roland Phillips, one of the other gay young blades who along with my escort Sir Andrew Stuck and the other men, was watching this little game unfold from the comfort of an armchair. “In good time he might be given something to eat,” replied Carrie, unpinning her long tresses of light, gold-tinted auburn hair, “but first I want to find out how hungry he is.” And to my astonishment she pulled open the flap of Lord George's trousers and proceeded to unbutton his flies! '“I say, steady on, Carrie, old girl,” he protested but I noticed that he did not struggle overmuch when the lovely girl tugged down his trousers and Pippa and Lucy (two lissome blonde beauties) had only to hold his legs steady whilst in one dextrous movement Carrie removed the offending garment. Along with the other girls I looked with great interest at the wisps of black pubic hair which were showing over the waistband of his drawers which had been slightly pulled down in the Melee and I could see his erect boner practically tearing through the fine monogrammed silk material of his aristocratic underpants! Carrie yanked these off with a whoop of joy. His rigid rod sprang up to attention and Pippa grabbed it in her fist and pumped her hand up and down with a squeal of delight.
The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.II Page 8
