the night in her own room. I was concerned that she would be reprimanded for not working well the next day, for she would have to be up at six o'clock sharp if not before, and less than four hours' sleep is insufficient for a hard- working servant. But Polly informed us that she had already arranged with Mr.
Goldhill that if he would not disturb her until noon, she would suck his cock as soon as she had woken up, which sounded a most equitable arrangement to my way of thinking. Frank was too tired even to put on his pyjamas, let alone to retire to his own room, so we snuggled up together, quite nude, under the eiderdown. I was the first to wake, and though my balls had been emptied more times than I could remember the night before, miraculously they were full again and my cock was standing up majestically to attention. I looked down and saw that Frank's truncheon was in the same fine condition. He was still half-asleep when I took his hand and brought it down to my stiffstander, and he moved his fingers in compliance once I had moved them up and down my tingling staff. I then grasped hold of my pal's tremendous tadger and pumped away with my fist. Simultaneously we spent together, our cocks spurting their gummy essence over the sparse covering of hair around the bases of our shafts and onto our bellies.
'Damn, we've made the sheet sticky,' said Frank. I peered down and said: 'I wouldn't worry, old boy, look how stained the sheet is from last night cavortings!' But before Frank could reply, there was a brisk knock-knock at the door and in came Sally with my early morning cup of tea. Frank dived beneath the bed-clothes as she put the tray down and went over to the windows to pull open the curtains.
'Good morning, Master Rupert,' she said cheerily. 'Wake up now, it's gone eight o'clock and it's time to get up.' She moved across to the bed and of course immediately saw through Frank's inadequate camouflage. 'Who's that in bed with you, then?* she asked brightly.
'Let's have a look.' And before I could prevent it, she threw back the eiderdown to discover that it was Frank cowering besides me and that we were both naked. 'Dear me, I would have thought you two were old enough and experienced enough to prefer real fucking to playing with each other,' she said reproachfully. 'We are too,' muttered Frank, 'but I was too sleepy from all the fucking last night to go back to my room.' 'Well, it's just as well I came in here first,' commented Sally, 'for if I had gone into your room and found that the bed had not been slept in, I might have raised the alarm and then goodness knows what might have happened.' Thank goodness you didn't, Sally, we're very grateful.' I said, covering Frank and myself up with the eiderdown. 'You don't have to be shy! she said. 'I've seen what you've got to offer before, remember? I'm a bit miffed, though, that you didn't tell me that there was some fucking going on because I would have loved to have joined in. Who was with you? It couldn't have been Katie Harbottle because I saw her leave with her parents and anyhow she fancies that spry Yankee gentleman Mr. Nolan.'
You can't keep anything secret from the servants, I thought, but when Sally asked me again which girls had been sharing our bed I shook my head.*You wouldn't like it if it had been you and someone else had asked the next day,' I said reprovingly.*You're quite right.
Master Rupert. It's a right good maxim for both boys and girls never to tell your friends who you're fucking, unless they pass on the clap in which case you must tell everybody who'll listen to you.' She may have only been a humble servant-girl but her pithy, blunt words should always be remembered by those engaged in any kind of fucking.
Sally looked again and saw that some of the spunk stains on the sheet were fresh. 'Have«you two just been tossing each other off? What a pity, I'm sure you would have enjoyed it even more if you'd have let me do it for you.' 'I'm sure we would have done, Sally,' agreed Frank with a touch of sarcasm in his voice as he tried unsuccessfully to rub his tool up to its former stiffness for her approval. 'But then we didn't know you would be bringing us early morning tea let alone providing any hand relief.' 'Oh yes, I wank any gentlemen guests at Albion Towers who request my services,' said Sally as she sat down on the bed. 'I would have seen to that American Mr. Nolan but he was taking a bath when I knocked on his door and he didn't ask me to do anything for him except to shut the door behind me when I left his room.' I looked at her in disbelief. 'What about Mama's cousins, the Reverend Horace Dumpole, who stayed with us for a week earlier this year? You're surely not telling-' She laughed heartily at my naivete. The Reverend Horace? Surely you must be joking, Master Rupert. Why, he was one of the gamest boys I've ever seen. After he found out what I would do for him, every morning regular as clockwork he'd be lying naked on his bed waiting for me, fondling his shaft as if he could hardly wait. Mind, he was shy at first,' she added thoughtfully. 'What happened was that on the second day of his visit I took him his tea and when I leaned over to put down the tray, I made sure he got a good look at my breasts. I'd kept the top buttons undone, you see, and my chemise was cut so low that he could easily hardly fail to see my titties when I bent over him. I could see how excited he was because his hands were shaking so much when I gave him his tea that he spilled most of it into the saucer! Anyhow, I took the cup away and told him to take off his nightshirt as he'd spilled tea all over it and it would be best if I put it in the wash straightaway.
'He protested at first but after a little persuasion off came the nightshirt. But as he handed it to me you will never guess what I noticed lying on the bed-it was a copy of The Intimate Memoirs Of Jenny Everleigh! “My, my,” I joked. “I would have thought that this was rather a rude book for a Man of the Cloth.” He blushed a deep shade of puce and said: “Ah, yes, er, yes, well, the truth of the matter is that I borrowed this book to illustrate to my flock what kind of unsuitable material there is available at certain bookshops and how careful good people must be not to buy such publications in error when for example they might wish to purchase The Recollections of Reverend James Everleigh, the former Bishop of Swaziland, which is a very different volume indeed, I can assure you.” '“I'm sure it is, your Reverence,” I giggled, “and I'm sure it is a very worthy book as well but it wouldn't give rise to spunk stains on your sheets.”
“There aren't any spunk stains, I always use my handkerchief,” said Horace indignantly and then he clapped his hand to his mouth for he realised that he'd given the game away! '“Now, now, don't be a silly boy, there's nothing wrong at all with taking yourself in hand once in a while,” I said soothingly and lifted up the eiderdown to look for myself at what this ecclesiastical gentleman had to offer. I was pleasantly surprised to see a fine-looking specimen hanging over his thigh, while resting on the sheet below his shaft lay a very heavy pair of balls. I passed my tongue hungrily over my lips for it had been three days since I had any canoodling. Goldhill had been busy seeing to Polly as usual and my boy friend Jack the blacksmith's son had been laid up with influenza. So I took off my blouse and skirt and sat down on the bed clad only in my chemise. '“My child, what in the name of heaven are you doing?” stammered the Reverend Horace Dumpole. '“I thought you might like to hear my confession. I've got quite a few juicy stories to get off my chests,” I said.
'“Surely you mean chest,” he corrected me. '“Oh no, chests, both of them,” I chuckled, quickly slipping off the chemise and pressing my bare bubbies together which made him gasp. His trouser snake began to stir under the bedclothes. “Would you like to hear my confession or not?” I demanded, climbing up on top of him. '“I would love to, my dear, but you see I am not a Catholic,” he said regretfully. '“Well, neither am I but you can still listen to them if you like!” I said, as teasingly I dangled my breasts up and down his body, just grazing his skin with my tawny titties. Moving down, I could see his erect cock throbbing with excitement so I lowered my nipples on to his knob and just brushed it. I knew he wouldn't last long and I only had to repeat this three more times before he shot an immense white fountain of sperm up over his belly.
His cock twitched so powerfully that a few flying drops of spunk caught me on my breasts. Oooh, this did make me feel randy especially as I let my titties slide in the little pools of jism on his tummy. I lifted my nips up and licked up the sticky cream as best I could.'
Of course, by now, Frank and I both sported capital stiffstanders and Sally took hold of them in her hands as she continued: 'He was a nice chap, old Horace, and after what I have just told you about he always left me half a crown on the bedside table each morning as a tip for bringing in his early morning tea to his room.' 'And of course, for his daily wank!' I commented. 'Oh no, Master Rupert, I didn't rub his prick every day,' said Sally. 'You didn't?'
'No, occasionally I would suck him off!' she chuckled. 'He gave me a ten shilling note for that which I thought was very generous. On his last morning when I came in he had already taken his bath and was sitting on the bed in his undershorts. He must have been thinking about me because I could see the purple knob of his prick had reared up above the waistband of his drawers. I set down my tray and without a word undressed until I stood naked except for my chemise. With trembling hands he pulled down the shoulder straps and caressed my titties until my pussey was as moist as anything. I pulled off his shorts and his stiff veiny shaft sprang free and I kissed the uncapped helmet whilst fondling his huge balls. 'He leaned forward and kissed my neck and he lifted me across to the dressing table. I sat on it and opened my legs and buried his face between my unresisting thighs. He sucked up
