fingered widow, I am not sure that I would not plump for a session with the five fingered widow. I have always enjoyed tossing off (for a start, one can choose one's own fantasy) and a recent occurrence also demonstrated to me the joys of taking oneself in hand. Alice stayed for the weekend recently and, early on Saturday morning, I decided to take an early morning stroll before breakfast to purchase a newspaper. When I returned home I padded softly up the stairs, not wishing to wake my dear lady friend. I opened the door as quietly as possible and, to my surprise, saw that she was engaged in a masturbatory exercise. She was lying totally naked on the bed and her legs were spread wide open. One hand was caressing her left breast, tweaking the nipple up to hardness, whilst the other hand was between her legs fingering her juicy pussey”. Her eyes were closed and she did not see or hear me as I stood framed in the doorway. I stood and stared for a minute or two and then went to the bathroom to pull out my erect, throbbing cock. I beat my meat until I shot a huge load of creamy spunk into the bath. My balls were completely drained and I experienced one of the best spends I have ever had in my entire life-I am thirty-seven years old-so I am wondering whether, after all, solitary sex is just as good as actual fucking. Incidentally, Alice told me later that she had seen me in the doorway that day but she was enjoying herself so much she pretended not to have noticed me and that she too is a devotee of frigging.-What do you think? Mr. Philip P. Pelham Street Manchester, Lanes DOCTOR JONATHAN REPLIES:
Sir,
Certainly, nothing is unnatural which is not physically impossible, and it appears that you and Alice could well enjoy a mutual masturbation scenario, which I would recommend. Solitary frigging can be very satisfying and indeed is far, far, better than celibacy-but I would suggest that it can never equal the intensity and the glow one achieves from an orgasm that has been reached 'through sharing and caring' as the American popular song puts it. There's absolutely nothing at all wrong with an occasional tossing off, but frankly speaking it is far more satisfying to fuck. Perhaps you need the stimulation of a new sexual partner, or simply the novelty of some new sexual enjoyments. Do you and Alice engage in soixante-neuf? Write back to me in six months if there is no change in your feelings-you may well like to purchase a bottle of Professor Taylor's tonic wine, meanwhile, which I find to be a fine stimulator of all appetites! Or alternatively purchase Mr. Colin Davis' fine little volume 'Fucking for Beginners' which may be purchased from any progressive bookseller.
Dear Doctor Jonathan, The other evening I was walking down the Strand on my way to a matinee performance of Mr. Michael Cook's new melodrama, The Warehouse, when who should I see striding towards me but the great Mr.
Peter Stockman, perhaps the biggest cocksman in Old London Town.
'Good afternoon, Miss Smyth-Bedforde,' said the handsome old rogue, 'What brings you to town on a warm summer's day?' 'I'm planning to see a performance of The Warehouse at the Lyceum Theatre,'
I replied. 'The reviews of Mr. Cook's production have been so good.'
'Oh dear, I'm afraid that today's matinee has been cancelled due to an outbreak of influenza amongst the east,' he said. 'Such a pity and how disappointing for you, Mary-and for me, too, as I had also decided to see the play this afternoon.' 'Alone, Mr. Stockman?' I said with a cheeky grin. 'I can hardly believe that!' 'It's the truth! Captain Mellor of Kent was supposed to meet me for a game of snooker at our Club, but he cried off this morning as he has been asked to fuck Mrs. Nottsgrove at three o'clock. Her husband is in India, you know, and the good Captain, Doctor Hellen and myself have been taking it in turns to ensure that the loneliness of separation has been eased by some extra-marital frolicking whenever the opportunity arises.' 'How kind of you, Mr. Stockman, to make your prick available to a poor lady in need.' 'It is the least one can do,' he said modestly. 'However, I am surprised that you too were planning to visit the theatre without a gentleman or a chaperone to escort you.' 'Oh, well, to be honest my dear old friend David Taylor was called away suddenly to see his brother who lives in Cockermouth -' 'Perhaps the most suitable place for Mr. Taylor to visit,' he interrupted with a saucy smile playing around his lips. 'It is said that in his home town of Glasgow he is without peer in the art of cunnilingus, though I am sure that I could give him a run for his money.' 'I'm sure you can,' I retorted. 'I doubt if there are any virgins over the age of sixteen left in London thanks to you and your friends! Anyhow, I am foot-loose and fancy free until he returns the day after tomorrow.' We walked back along the Strand and took tea at Philip Ajao's Covent Garden restaurant, which is now perhaps the most fashionable place to see and be seen these days. We stayed an hour or so, and saw Dame Carolyn Caughey there, incidentally, planning some intrigue I'll be bound with Lady Roberta Cripps, Mrs. Langtry and Mrs. Keppel. Then lo and behold, I found myself in Mr. Stockman's delightful apartment in the Adelphi. Even as I write, I have hardly any memory of how we arrived there! 'Let me open a bottle of white wine. Mixed with a little seltzer water, I think you will agree it is a most refreshing drink in this warm weather,' said this sweet Lothario. I shall spare myself and your readers any further blushes, but most people who purchase The Oyster know of Mr. Peter Stockman's well-deserved reputation… I was certainly no match for his polished technique of seduction. Which girl could resist the charms of a mature, tall, good-looking and wealthy man like Peter?
Inside the hour I was lying naked on his bed watching him undress and his slim, athletic frame contrasted so well with my current beau's rather corpulent body. Like so many girls before me, I gasped with wonderment when he pulled down his drawers to reveal his astonishingly thick cock which sprang upwards from the mass of black curly hair at the bottom of his belly, and the tip of which reached above his navel.
He kissed me beautifully, nibbling my ears, and whispered his intentions 'to enjoy your body to the utmost' whilst his calm, experienced fingers caressed and massaged my breasts, rolling my nipples into erection whilst my pussey became decidedly damp, moistening like a dew-drenched flower in eager anticipation of what was to come. 'I am going to eat your pussey now, Mary, and I am certain that you taste even sweeter than Mr. Ajao's cream cakes,' he murmured. Doctor Jonathan, I must state here and now that Mr.
Stockman is a world champion of the fine art of sucking pussies! He placed a large silk pillow beneath my buttocks to ease his access, and then he pushed my knees up to my large breasts and parted them, thus totally exposing my honey blonde bush which almost perfectly matches the colour of my hair. He complimented me on my fine-looking pussey with its pouting lips, and then his head dived between my legs and I felt his tongue gently parting my labia, darting inside as I moaned softly with the pleasure this afforded me. He placed his lips over my clitty and sucked it into his mouth with one hand now under my bum for extra elevation, and the other round my thigh so he could spread my pussey lips with his thumb and middle finger. He soon found the magic button under the fold at the base of my clitty and twirled his tongue cleverly all around it. The faster he vibrated his tongue the more excited I became, and I gyrated madly as his tongue moved even more quickly along the silken grooves of my cunt, licking and lapping my delicious juices that ran down like a stream. With each stroke I arched my body in ecstasy, pressing the erect clitty against the tip of his flickering tongue. 'Aaah!' I moaned, and then yelped with joy as I exploded, flooding his face with my juices as I spent exquisitely in great tumbling spasms. As he rolled off me I reached down to take hold of his enormous shaft which throbbed like hot velvet under my touch. I gave it a little kiss when Peter asked me whether he could have the pleasure of fucking me from behind.
'Certainly,' I replied. 'But please do not go up my bum.' I raised myself up on my knees and turned to face the bedstead and stuck out my bum as provocatively as I could. Peter leaned over me and I felt the crown of his monstrous cock nudge against my pussey lips. He slipped his cock inside me and gently moved in and out in slow rhythmic thrusts. It is quite extraordinary how my poor little pussey channel managed to accommodate his mighty monster, but my juices eased its passage as he pushed in, withdrew, pushed in, withdrew as I shuddered in voluptuous ardour. I know of no feeling of pleasure quite like that of the initial penetration of the cunney by a cocked and loaded prick. Peter felt wonderful, thick and hot, stretching my pussey and filling my cunney deliciously. He used his cock expertly, varying his angle and speed, and his staying power was immense. We must have fucked for at least ten minutes until the wonderful performance ended as he shot thick wads of creamy jism into me as I screamed with delight, for I too spent almost instantaneously as the hot, frothy spunk drenched the walls of my womb. He stayed hard in my cunney for a little while and then slowly withdrew, his cock glistening with our mingled juices, and though we were both ready for another round of fornication we were interrupted by a knock on the door. Mr. Stockman's friend had sent him a wire asking him to dine at her house tonight as a gentleman had dropped out at the last minute and they would otherwise be thirteen at table unless he made up the numbers. (The alternative would be my poor Uncle Philip having to dine downstairs, which would create problems, as my aunt suspected a relationship between my uncle and Clare, the scullery maid.) So we did not have the chance of fucking in my
