The Intimate Memoirs of an Edwardian Dandy, vol.I

by Rupert Mountjoy

  We have been honoured that on the advice of the Viceroy of India himself, the Rajah has chosen to send his son to St Lionel's. I would not be surprised if the Rajah knows of your father, Mountjoy. You lived in Delhi for some years as a young boy, if I remember rightly.

  'What I want you boys to do for me is to take Prince Salman under your wing. He has been to England several times and so he will not find life here totally strange. Show him the ropes and keep him out of trouble. This should not pose too many problems because he is a studious boy and I am sure he will fit in well.' 'We'll be happy to help out, sir,' I said. 'May I ask a question though? What do we call him: Your Highness, Prince Salman or what?' The headmaster beamed and said: 'An excellent question, Mountjoy. I think the best solution is that he should be known as “Prince” to staff and boys alike. He will be at the school just before luncheon tomorrow and I will call you up here as soon as he arrives. Any further questions?'

  'No, sir!' we chorused and Dr Keeleigh waved us away. 'Good lads, I will rely on you. I've already informed the teaching staff about all this but you must feel free to speak to me in confidence about any problem that might arise.' After tea, our form was ordered into a classroom to hear 'an important address' by the school chaplain, the Reverend Percy Clarke, the contents of which was known to us even before he marched into the room. Looking back, I think it probable that the Reverend Percy was himself a closet arse-bandit for he liked nothing better than to question boys about whether they ever had wet dreams, whether they ever fantasised about naked women, whether they had ever experienced erections and whether they ever played with themselves. Of course, everyone denied everything (though in practice the true answer to any of his queries would have been in the affirmative for almost every boy!). But after a dare, one fifth former confessed to all of these 'sins' and was promptly ordered to dip his cock into cold water first thing in the morning and last thing at night! So we knew what to expect when he cleared his throat and began droning on about the evils of 'the solitary vice'. 'Beware of this insidious disease which is the work of the devil,' he trumpeted.

  'It cheats semen getting its full chance of making up the strong, manly chap you would otherwise be. Do not be tempted to throw away the seed that has been handed down to you as a sacred trust instead of keeping it and ripening it for bringing a son to you when you are fully matured. 'My advice to you all is this. Whenever you feel the impure urge coming on, say a prayer such as “Oh God, give me strength to resist the evil afflicting my body.” I also recommend cold baths and long walks to help save yourself from this terrible scourge.' 'A final warning to you all-many of our finest doctors have written that, as surely as night follows day, self-abuse will lead to weak eye-sight, poor hearing and even insanity in later life.

  So take heed and make a promise to yourselves that you will resist the forces of darkness.' He burbled on for a few more minutes and Harry Price-Bailey, an athletic fellow and a good friend of both Frank and myself, grunted: 'I suppose that will keep us from pulling our puds for at least five minutes!' For several years after I left St Lionel's I was especially cross with Dr Keeleigh for letting this clerical lunatic fill the minds of ignorant boys with such nonsense-and I don't care who says anything to the contrary, I'm damned sure that a five-knuckle shuffle never harmed anyone. I rest my case on no other grounds that if Reverend Clarke's view was correct, there'd be a bloody big demand for glasses and hearing-trumpets, that's for sure! Any notice that might have been taken of the chaplain's words had gone by the evening, for that night, after lights out in the dormitory, Frank and I told our form-mates all about the excitements of our holiday. As we expounded in graphic detail about the several ways we had fucked Diana, Cecily, Sally and Polly, the lot of us soon sported gigantic hard-ons including Frank and myself!

  Within a minute, all the boys brought out their pricks and tossed themselves off, Frank and myself included. The experience was hardly unpleasant but since I had tasted the joys of a genuine fuck, I found that taking oneself in hand is fine as far as it goes but is only the first step on the road to sexual fulfillment. I woke with the dawn the next morning and decided to go for an early morning run round Blodgett's Field, where football and cricket fixtures were played against other schools. Running before breakfast was a practice encouraged by Dr Keeleigh but not to excess for it was banned during the winter months. I rummaged through my locker and put on my athletic vest and shorts and went down the stairs as quietly as possible as I did not wish to wake up others who were still asleep. As I made my way out towards the front door I heard two of the servant girls who came in daily from the nearby village talking. I recognised the dulcet tones of Melanie, perhaps the prettiest and certainly the girl who was most often drooled over by the older boys. It was rumoured that she had gone for a walk with Claridge of the Modern Sixth Senior who had boasted that she had let him slide his hand inside her blouse. But most of us, perhaps from envy, did not believe him! I strained my ears and heard Melanie say: 'Yes, Dolly, so there we were, just the two of us in the changing room. Well, I didn't know at first that Geoffrey had gone in to take a shower, I thought the place was empty.'

  'My, my, so it's Geoffrey now, is it,' said Dolly, her companion, with a laugh. 'It's plain Mister Ormondroyd to the likes of me and the rest of the girls!' My heart missed a beat-they were talking about my history master, a young man who had recently joined the school after leaving University. He had obtained his post at St Lionel's because Dr Keeleigh was always keen to keep a balance in the staff between youth and experience. 'Oh, go on with you,' said Melanie. 'Do you want to hear what happened or not? Yes? Well, I went in and heard Geoffrey singing in the shower I decided to stay around, especially when I saw his clothes lying in a heap on the floor. I peeped into the shower room and I saw him standing with his back to me under the shower, turning himself slowly round under the water jets, massaging the soap into his muscular body. What a fine figure of a man he is, Dolly, such a broad chest and such pinchable firm bum cheeks! When he turned round to the front I could take a long hard look at his big cock and it was so exciting when he soaped his shaft and it bounced up in his hand into the stiffest white truncheon you could ever wish to see! I don't mind telling you that my pussey started to dampen and I put down my mop and slipped my hand inside my blouse to rub my titties, which were already tingling unbearably as Geoffrey played with his prick, not knowing that an eager pair of eyes was watching his every move! 'So what did you do about it?' prompted Dolly, laughing lewdly as she sat down on the stairs to hear the end of the anecdote. 'What do you think!' retorted Melanie, sitting down beside her. 'I went back to the changing room and bolted the door. Then I took off my blouse and skirt and stood there with just my knickers on waiting for Geoffrey to come out. I didn't have to wait long and he was even more ready for action than I was, being stark naked except for a towel with which he was wiping his face. His cock looked heavy and juicy, swinging between his thighs so he couldn't have brought himself off in the shower, I thought to myself, which would help things along.

  '“My God, Melanie, how did you get in here?” he gasped, hastily draping the towel round his waist. '“I wondered if I might have some private instruction in indoor games.” I said boldly, stepping towards him and pushing my body up against his. I could feel his prick rising as I reached down and pulled down the towel, letting his swollen tool jump up to stand high against his tummy. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed them downwards. He made no resistance as we sank to the floor and I thrust my titties in his face. He sucked them up marvellously as I clasped his massive cock and began to wank him. He then worked his hands inside my knickers and rubbed my pussey with the flat of his hand before he pulled down my knickers. Then he did something that's never happened to me before… he leaned down and pushed my knickers over my ankles and then screwed them up in his hand and began rubbing the bundle against my soaking pussey! He made a sheath for his finger with the wet knickers and frigged my cunney with it. He wiggled his finger to th
e hilt until my knicks were saturated with my love juice. Then he eased them off his finger and frigged me with his bare fingers. 'So I wriggled myself around to bring my face up to his throbbing prick. I popped my lips over the crown of his cock and curled my tongue around his helmet, licking away whilst I cupped his tight ballsack. But I wanted him to fuck me so I only tongued the tip of his knob before lying down on my back. “Push that big dick in my cunt,” I said and he didn't need asking twice! He slipped that fat bulb in my cunney. I came straightaway and could feel the juice running out of me, clinging to my pussey hairs as his cock crashed through my love channel. He kept ramming his well-greased tool until we were both screaming in delight until he filled me with his sticky spunk. We lay together and his shaft stayed hard inside me as I felt his sperm trickle out of my cunt and down over my thighs. I would have liked to have continued but it was neither the time nor the place. I had to finish my work and Geoffrey was the duty master at breakfast so we both went into the shower to refresh ourselves and got dressed again as quickly as we could.' 'Are you going to see Mr.

  Ormondroyd, oh, sorry, I mean Geoffrey, again?' 'I should say so!

  We've arranged to meet in his study tomorrow night at ten o'clock, I can't wait, Dolly! It's been three months since I've had a good fuck!'

  I waited for the two girls to walk away before continuing my descent. Melanie's story had given me a huge stiffstander but I took Reverend Clark's advice and went for a brisk early-morning job instead of finishing myself off with a five-knuckle shuffle. It wasn't the chaplain and his dire warnings of perdition that stopped me relieving my feelings in the time-honoured fashion, but rather a gut feeling that somehow, somewhere, I was going to be involved in fucking. Since I was a small boy, my father had always told me to trust my instincts.

  I did so now, despite the total lack of credible evidence that might point to such a happy state of affairs. As it happens, such trust was not to be misplaced-though I would never have guessed in a million years just how such serendipity between fantasy and reality would be achieved! I did, however, have to wait until the next day for my dream to be realised. It all started when, as he had promised, Dr Keeleigh called Frank and myself to his study just before luncheon to meet Prince Salman-or, as the headmaster added, Salman Prince as he would be known at St Lionel's. I liked the look of Salman from the moment we met-he was a tall, powerfully built chap with a firm handshake. 'Good to meet you, Mountjoy, and you too Folkestone,' he called cheerily. 'I hope I won't be a burden and I'm really grateful if you'll show me the ropes.' At this point there was a tap on the door and, of all people, Melanie came in. 'You wanted to see me, sir,' she said and Dr Keeleigh asked her to show Salman where the laundry was situated, to explain how the household facilities of the school were run, and to take him back to the Fourth Form Common Room afterwards. After they left Dr Keeleigh sat down in his superb red leather chair (donated a few years back by the Old Lionelsians on his fiftieth birthday) and said: 'There is just one further matter about which I want to speak to you. There may be, amongst some of the more vulgar of your form-mates or indeed other boys, a feeling of prejudice against our Indian Prince on the grounds of the colour of his skin. Any such foolishness is abhorrent in my eyes and in fact amongst the very highest in the land. “Mislike me not for my complexion” says the Moor in The Merchant Of Venice and it is an unfortunate fact that there will be those who may wish to make sneering remarks about Prince behind his back. If this happens, I want you to remind the offender that no less a person than His Majesty The King himself on a visit to India twenty five years ago berated some officials of the East India Company who spoke disparagingly about the natives. He told them that because man has a dark skin there is no reason why he should be treated like a brute.' 'Very good sir, but suppose someone says something out of place directly to the Prince himself?' ventured Frank. A rare twinkled appeared in Dr Keeleigh's eyes. 'Ah, I don't think that will happen more than once,' he chuckled. 'I don't intend to broadcast the fact that Salman has taken lessons in fisticuffs from Harry Willoughby, the professional middleweight boxing champion. He showed himself to be a willing pupil!

  I would rather wish you boys kept this information to yourselves and let anyone who tries to rag our new friend about his colour to find out for himself!' After the last lesson of the day we took Salman to the study which he would share with Frank and myself.

  Coincidentally, we needed a third chap as our former studymate Nick Clee had left St Lionel's at the end of the summer term to join his parents in East Africa. 'I suppose this room must be a bit spartan after your father's palace,' said Frank as he busied himself with putting on the kettle for tea. 'And I bet you had something a darned sight tastier than bread and butter and a slice of cake for tea.' 'Yes, I was spoiled rotten,' agreed Salman. 'But as it says in your Bible: “Better a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therein.”' We looked at him in awe. 'Proverbs, Chapter 15, verse 17.' he added kindly. 'I thought you worshipped those funny statues with lots of arms and sacred cows and all that sort of thing.' I said. 'No, no, my dear Rupert, my family are Moslems and you are talking of Hinduism. I don't know too much about their religion except that the cow is regarded as a symbol of Mother Earth which is why the animal is sacred and many of my Hindu friends are vegetarians,' he explained. 'Our holy book is the Koran though we do accept much of Jewish and Christian teaching.' 'Yes, we studied Mohammed and his teachings last term. What I remember best is that men are allowed more than one wife, aren't they?' said Frank. 'If you're a glutton for punishment,' returned Salman with a smile. 'I think that like my father I shall settle for just one but keep a harem of concubines for pleasure.' I licked my lips. 'When were you allowed to… um -' 'Have my first woman?' said Salman, finishing the question for me. 'I had my first when I was thirteen. But that was quite unofficial and my father would have been furious, especially as the girl concerned was one of his favourites.' He paused and then, with a furrowed brow, he added in his perfect though slightly sing-song accented English: 'But since we're talking about this important subject, let me tell you that whilst I've been in England I have suffered from a grievous shortage of available bed-worthy females. 'But Miss Melanie, now, the girl who showed me round the school facilities before lunch, I would very much enjoy fucking her.

  My worry is that this might be against the rules of the school.'

  Frank laughed out loudly. 'I don't see why, no-one's ever said anything against it. I would have thought a bigger worry was to persuade Melanie to come across.' 'Oh, that's no problem,' he said confidently. 'How do you know?' I demanded. 'Well, I've already asked her and she's coming here at half past eight this evening so we'll have an hour to enjoy ourselves before we have to go to bed.' We stared at him in goggle-eyed astonishment. 'You asked her, just like that, if she wanted to be fucked and she immediately made an arrangement to see you tonight? My God, you're a fast worker.

  Perhaps your being a high-born foreign prince impressed her?' But Salman shook his head. 'No, I don't really think so. I believe it is far more likely that she was impressed by my giving her half of this little piece of paper,' he commented, rummaging in his wallet to being out a carefully cut portion of a fifty pound note! 'Phew, I'll wager that Melanie hasn't seen too many of these,' I whistled. 'No, and I wonder if she's seen many of these either,' said Frank, giving his prick a suggestive circular rub with the palm of his hand.

  'You don't think she is a virgin?' asked Salman anxiously.

  'No, absolutely not,' I assured him firmly. I suddenly remembered that Melanie might have made an appointment with Salman this evening but that she had also made an assignation with Mr. Ormondroyd for ten o'clock. 'She's no virgin, Salman,' I repeated and I told the boys what I had overheard on the stairs early this morning. 'Good,' said Salman with relief. I don't want any indignant fathers round here demanding that I marry their daughters and all that sort of nonsense.

  I shall enjoy myself tonight.' We looked jealously at him as Frank p
oured the tea. 'Dash it, there's something else I'd better tell you,' he said. “You've brought a girl from your dad's harem as well,' I sighed. 'No, no, old chap, it's about Melanie. I suggested that she bring two friends along tonight.' 'You jammy bugger!* grunted Frank enviously. 'Are you going to have three girls tonight?' 'I hope so,' he replied cheerfully. 'But my dear chaps, the other two ladies are primarily for your enjoyment.' 'For us?'

  I exclaimed. 'Most certainly,' said Salman courteously. I do hope I haven't offended you but I thought we would have a little party to celebrate my arrival at St Lionel's and who better to ask than my two new friends. Of course, if you prefer not to indulge yourselves, do let me know.' 'Oh we wouldn't dream of letting you down, would we, Rupert?' said Frank. 'Salman, old boy, we'd love to take part – I can see that we three are going to get along very well indeed!'

  It was difficult to keep our minds on our homework but we did our best until the dinner bell rang out. We bolted through our meal and were back in our study by eight o'clock. I must say that Salman was very cool about the whole affair, but Frank and I could hardly keep still as we were so excited at the thought of a big sex party. In the end Salman turned to us and said: 'I say, you fellows, why not sit down and relax. The girls won't be here for another half an hour. Use the time like me to relax your mind and body. You'll be in much better shape if you can try a spot of meditation.' We followed his advice but in my mind's eyes I could picture Melanie's large white breasts with the pink rosebud titties and I let myself drool about how I would run my hands over those gorgeous globes and then let them rove across her belly to that curly growth of cunney hair which curled in rich, dark locks in a triangle between her legs, tapering to a tantalising thinness where her pouting pussey lips would be waiting for my sturdy shaft. Naturally, these lewd thoughts made my prick swell up as I sat in my armchair so I propelled the chair round with my bottom so that it faced away from the others. My cock was now pushing up uncomfortably in my lap so I unbuttoned my trousers to accommodate my stiffstander which stood proudly to attention as I capped and uncapped the bulging red knob in my hand. I was so engrossed in this reverie that I did not notice Salman standing by me.