The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.I

by Rupert Mountjoy

  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.'

  If anything, it was even warmer than the previous day and I closed the folding hood over the passenger compartment as Wallace, our second coachman, drove at a steady pace through Ripley, a pretty village whose main street is prettily shaded with trees. Its fifteenth century church has marks on the outside of the east wall that are attributed to bullets fired by Cromwell's soldiers-some say, when shooting prisoners taken at Marston Moor during the English Civil War.

  I made a mental note to take Frank on a walking trip round these parts as history is his favourite subject and he would be fascinated to see the house in the village of Scotton where Guy Fawkes lived as a young man. We arrived ten minutes before Frank's train was due so Wallace and I sat sunning ourselves on the platform whilst we waited for the train. It arrived punctually and Frank jumped out eagerly to greet me. 'Hullo, Rupert, how smashing to see you,' he said, heartily shaking my hand. 'My mother gated me until I was over this poxy chill but I'm fighting fit now and ready for anything. I know that you're not that keen on cricket but tennis is all the rage in town these days. I've brought up a couple of rackets and some balls so we could have a game-it'll be great fun especially in this weather. Your neighbour, Doctor Wigmore, laid out a court if I remember rightly-if you haven't fallen out with him perhaps he would let us play on it.'

  I grinned as Wallace collected Frank's cases and we walked over to the exit. 'I haven't seen Doctor Wigmore since the Easter vacation but I met his daughter Diana yesterday,' I said with a grin.

  'Fine, perhaps she would also be keen to play? How about this afternoon if the weather stays fine?' I was sorely tempted to reply: 'I'll say, but at a much better game than tennis!' But I held my tongue until we were seated in the coach and Wallace had driven us out of the station yard. Once we were on our way I turned to him and said: 'Frank, I like playing tennis and though you'll probably beat me hollow I'll do my best to give you some sort of a game. But I've already made other plans for us this afternoon which, as it happens, involve Diana and one of her girl friends.' 'Well, that's all right, we could play doubles.' I gestured impatiently.

  'Listen, old boy, forget tennis for a moment. How would you like to play a game you've dreamed about since you've had hair growing round your cock?' As I expected, this startled him into an astonished silence! 'You heard,' I repeated. 'I'm not joking, no really I wouldn't jape about something so important. Just play your cards right, young Folkestone, and you'll be fucking a pretty girl this afternoon just like I did yesterday! It beats tossing off any day of the week, I can tell you!' 'I don't believe it, Rupert, you're having me on, aren't you?' he said, half-afraid perhaps to accept such wonderful news and then be brought down to earth with a hefty bump when he learned that I was only teasing him. 'Honestly, I'm not joshing, Frank, I swear I'm not,' I earnestly assured my pal. I went on to tell him of my great adventure into manhood and how Diana and her friend Cecily would meet us at the old barn that very afternoon for some further frolics. “This sounds too good to be true,' he breathed. 'Why, the very thought is already making me feel terribly randy!' He wriggled uncomfortably in his seat and I could clearly see the bulge in his lap. 'Ha! Ha! Ha! That's made you forget all about tennis, hasn't it?' I laughed. 'Well, Diana wanted to know if you were ready for your first fuck and, from the size of your stiffstander, I don't think she and Cecily will be too disappointed!'

  They won't be disappointed at all,' he said with mock indignation. 'Haven't I got the thickest prick in our dormitory? Look, I'll show you, I bet you can't match this for size!' He ripped open his fly buttons, releasing his big red-headed cock, which stood up stiffly as he frigged it up to its fullest measure. He then helped me pull out my own stiff truncheon which, though not so massive an instrument, was still substantial enough to have satisfied Diana Windsor-as I hastened to remind him. We were now so fired up that we handled each other's tools in an ecstasy of anticipatory delight, and the proceeding ended by a mutual tossing off, aiming each other's emissions of gluey white jism onto the newspaper which luckily I had brought with me to read on the way to the station. 'Well, I hope no-one wants to read The Times any more today,' I quipped as we entered our carriage drive. 'I'll hide it in my jacket and chuck it in a bin when we get indoors and if anybody asks for the paper, I'll say I left it on the platform by mistake whilst helping you down with your luggage.' Goldhill, the new butler Mama had persuaded to our household from Lord Mozer's establishment, was ready to greet us at the front door. As instructed I dutifully passed on Mama's message to Frank and Goldhill asked me at what time Mrs. Randall should serve luncheon. 'Oh, one o'clock will suit well enough, only do tell her that we will require only a very light meal-I would suggest perhaps one of her famous cheese omelettes with fried potatoes and a green salad with a fruit compote to follow. 'Would that suit you?' I asked, turning to Frank. 'Absolutely spot-on,' he replied with a grin.

  'We don't want too much to eat if we're going to take some strenuous exercise this afternoon.' Goldhill nodded. 'Very good, Master Rupert. Might you young gentlemen be playing tennis later, for I noticed that Master Frank has brought his tennis rackets. Your equipment is in the games room and I'll get one of the maids to bring it downstairs for you. Will you also require balls?' With a great effort my chum stifled his laughter as I gravely replied: 'Yes, we'll need our balls this afternoon, Goldhill. But I'll help you unpack, Frank, and we can take our tennis togs with us in my games bag.'

  Now as you may imagine, dear reader, Frank and I hardly did justice to Mrs. Randall's tasty fare. We bolted through our luncheon and stuffed our tennis clothes-white short-sleeved shirts and thin white cotton trousers-into two sports bags. 'Pack all your stuff in one of your own cases, Frank. I've just remembered a couple of things to take that we'll find very useful.' We were in so much of a hurry that Goldhill had to remind us to take our rackets!*You won't play very much tennis without these, young gentlemen,' said the old retainer with a grave smile. 'With luck we won't be playing with them at all!' muttered Frank under his breath. When we were on our way down the drive he turned to me and said: 'Rupert, I don't doubt your sworn word but I'm still frightened that this is all a lovely dream and that in a minute I'll wake up in bed with an aching s
tiff prick!'

  'Have no fear, the girls will not let us down,' I reassured him, although I too could hardly take in our good fortune. We reached the old barn ten minutes before the appointed hour and I spread out on the clean wooden floor the eiderdown I had packed in my bag. 'Voila, this should make for more comfortable fucking,' I said with satisfaction.

  'Yes, so long as the girls arrive,' said Frank, nervously moving his weight from one foot to the other. 'Why don't we change into our tennis outfits?' I suggested. 'It will help pass the time and we won't have so many clothes to take off when we begin our fun.'

  'What a good idea,' he agreed and we took off our shoes and socks and then our trousers, taking care to fold them neatly before placing them in our valises. We had both just taken off our shirts and were standing solely in our drawers when the door opened and the forms of our two frisky young fillies stood framed in the sunlight. Never before nor ever since have I clapped eyes on two such superb contrasting examples of female pulchritude. The blonde beauty of Diana was marvellously complemented by the equally pretty Cecily's wavy brown hair, her graceful Grecian face of rosy cheeks, large dark eyes and lips as rich and red as midsummer cherries. The exquisite girl was deliriously proportioned with large, heavy breasts covered only by a cream-coloured blouse, of such fine silk that it was almost transparent. Frank and I could easily make out the shadow of her swollen nipples that pressed so invitingly against the softness of her clothing. 'Goodness me, were you two boys planning to begin the proceedings without us?' said Diana brightly. 'Cecily, I do hope that these two boys have not been seduced into the ways of Oscar Wilde and the homosexualists!' The other girl chuckled, showing pearly white teeth which we were to see frequently exhibited in a later succession of winning smiles that were rarely to leave her charming face. 'It would mean that we will have wasted our afternoon, but they might just be changing their clothes to prepare themselves for our visit.' 'Indeed, that this precisely what we were doing,' I grinned back. 'Frank, I have the honour to introduce Miss Diana Wigmore. Miss Wigmore, this is Frank Folkestone, my best friend at St Lionel's.' 'How do you do?' said Frank, shaking hands with the cool blonde beauty. 'Very well thank you-what a funny experience being introduced to a boy unclothed except for his drawers! Still, I will give you both the benefit of the doubt as to why you are both so scantily clad and introduce my best friend, Miss Cecily Cardew of Harrogate. Mr. Folkestone, Mr. Rupert Mountjoy, Miss Cardew.' The formalities over, I asked the girls if they would care for some refreshment. I flourished an ice-box in which stood a bottle of champagne that I had sneaked out of our cellar before luncheon. 'There are even four glasses inside it,' I explained as I opened it up. 'My Uncle Gilbert gave it to me for Christmas last year, isn't it a useful gift?' We rapidly finished off the bottle of Krug '87 and, though we were far from being blotto, the bubbly fizz certainly loosened our tongues. We were very soon engaged in a most relaxed and friendly conversation. Earlier in the morning Diana had also brought a quilt into our secret hide-out on which she and I sat, whilst Frank and Cecily lolled together on the duvet I had taken from one of our spare bedrooms. 'We had a good fuck yesterday, didn't we, Rupert?' said Diana chattily. 'It wasn't good, it was magnificent!' I responded, putting my arm around her waist. 'I can't wait to fuck you again.' 'All in good time, you randy boy, all in good time,' she riposted. 'But what I really would like first is to see Frank fuck Cecily-we have presumed that, like Rupert, Frank has never before made love and Cecily has a great urge to rectify this sad situation.

  Haven't you, my dearest? Despite being only seventeen years old, she is far more experienced than I, having tasted the fleshpots of London with Sir David Nash and all the other young rogues of Belgravia.'

  'Not all of the others, if you please, Diana, though I could tell you a tale or two about Lord Andrew Stuck and his friend Matthew Cosgrave! Still, I will admit, dear Frank, that the idea of fucking your virgin prick very much appeals to me. In fact, I have quite a fancy for it right now. How do you feel about the matter?' Frank gulped and said: 'I'd like nothing better'. But we could see that he was nervous and I knew how he must be feeling – I too had butterflies in my rummy just before I made love to Diana, and that was without any spectators to witness the event! 'Go on, Frank, don't mind us,' I said to try and help my friend. 'We're going to kiss and cuddle as well, don't you know.' Cecily stood up and let her tongue pass sensuously over her lips as she slowly unhooked the tiny buttons of her blouse. With feline grace she opened the garment to reveal the luscious swell of her large breasts topped by nut-brown nipples, already as hard as little sticks, sticking out at least a whole inch in length. She cupped these exciting globes in her hands and, kneeling down in front of Frank, she rubbed the palm of her hand against the bulging erection hidden in his drawers. 'Dear me, Frank, it was just as well you began to undress before Diana and I arrived – I do so hate wasting time with unnecessary preliminaries. Now, is that a cucumber you have hidden in your pants or are you really excited by my bare titties?' she asked with a mischievous glint in her sparkling brown eyes. Alas, poor Frank was so overcome by his emotions that, though at school he was rarely lost for words, the thrilling sight of this exquisite half-naked girl left him completely tongue-tied and he could not find his voice to make a reply to this amusingly rhetorical question. Indeed, the poor chap was so overwhelmed that he made no attempt to help Cecily when she took hold of his undershorts and tried to tug them down. 'Frank, old fellow, lift yourself up,' I urged.

  This did the trick, for he recovered his composure and raised his arse so that Cecily could slide his drawers under his bum. She then lifted them over his stalwart staff which was standing as high as a flagpole.

  Diana craned her head forward for a closer look at his tremendous erection-for it was no idle boast that Frank had made earlier on our way home from the station when he laid claim to be the proud owner of the thickest prick in the Upper Fourth form at St Lionel's-and the two girls admired the tumescent proportions of Frank's cock. 'What a whopper for such a young sport!' cried Cecily, stroking Frank's throbbing tadger with the tips of her fingers. 'It is one of the biggest I've ever seen,' agreed Diana.*My sweet Cecily, I wonder if you will be able to accommodate such a monster.' 'Just watch me,'

  Cecily advised her friend. 'I have not yet come up against a prick that is too big for me to suck.' Both Diana and I admired her dextrous technique as she began by clasping Frank's plump penis with both of her small hands, and massaging his gigantic tool up to bursting point.

  She then leaned over and took the mushroomed head of the purple bulb between her lips, jamming down his foreskin and lashing her tongue around the rigid shaft. She tickled his helmet with the tip of her pink little tongue and then she opened her mouth to take in almost half his enormous erection whilst her hands played with his hairy ballsack. She swallowed hard and then somehow managed to take in almost all of his swollen stem. Diana and I watched in fascination as her tongue flicked out to lick the soft underfolds of skin along the base of Frank's shaft. She sucked lustily upon his succulent cock, sliding her lips along the rock-hard rod, gulping noisily as the helmet of his smooth skinned knob slid against the roof of her mouth to the back of her throat. He'll spunk too soon if she's not very careful,' Diana whispered to me as her hand slipped inside my under-shorts to grasp my own pulsing organ, which had already ballooned up to stand stiffly upwards. The soft touch of Diana's fingers soon set my tool twitching with excitement. Cecily had also surmised this probability and she pulled her head up and said to Frank: 'Here it comes, Frank-your very first fuck. Lie down on your back and let me take charge.' He did not have to be asked a second time as he lay back, his thick prick poking up in salute as she swiftly pulled off her skirt. My cock throbbed uncontrollably at the sight of the curly brown bush that surrounded the visible lips of her pussey cunney lips! Now totally nude, Cecily straddled Frank and took hold of his yearning tool and placed it at the gateway of her cunt.

  'Ready, steady, go!' she cried as she slid dow
n his cock until it was totally engulfed in the warm, wet walls of her cunney. As soon as it was lodged deep inside, she swayed back and forth. Frank frantically arched his body up and down and his face reddened and his breathing quickened until, as we expected, he shot his sperm right up inside her. Cecily raised herself off Frank's prick which now glistened with their liquid libations. She grasped hold of his sperm-coated shaft, which was still almost as stiff as when she had first sat on it, and after a few quick wanks, his cock was back up to its full majestic height. 'Now it's your turn to call the tune!' she said gaily as she lay down and pulled his sinewy body over her. Frank's shaft slid joyously into her hungry pussey and, with barely a pause to take breath, he started to pump up and down in a steady rhythm, his arse quivering with every movement of his hips. Looking back on this erotic event, I must say that although this was his first fuck, Frank had a natural understanding of what was required of him. He did not rush in and out like a man possessed-perhaps because Cecily had cleverly decided to get his first spunking out of the way as quickly as possible-but he thrust home steadily, taking his time as he withdrew and then re-entered the juicy haven of her cunt. This pleased Cecily, who began to toss and turn as she gasped: 'Oh, lovely, really lovely, Frank, you big-cocked boy-ram in harder, you won't hurt me!