stiffening shaft. I felt a delicious stab of desire as she sucked my cock up to full erection, teasing my knob against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and in no time at all I felt the surge of a powerful spend coursing through my throbbing cock. Sarah sensed this and took her sweet lips away for a moment. Then she returned to the attack as she stroked her tongue along the underside of my prick, making it ache with excitement as it throbbed more and more urgently. She squeezed her hand round the base of my shaft, sucking me harder until I could no longer contain myself. My lusty young cock pulsed in her mouth as I gave a small cry and, arching my back, jetted spurt after spurt of creamy white semen full into that adorable mouth, which did not cease to draw upon it until the last drops of white essence had been swallowed. Sarah murmured with satisfaction as she raised the head, kissed my gleaming cock which was only slowly losing a little of its stiffness. 'That was delicious, Jack, your spunk has a lovely salty tang to it. Now what would you say to a real fuck?' 'Yes, please!' I stammered as this gorgeous girl swiftly completed her undressing and stood naked in front of me. We made our way to the bed and she pulled my face towards her and sank her naughty little tongue in my mouth. I stroked her wiry black pussey bush as she then lay back, her head supported by her hands. She moved her tongue between her lips and, taking hold of me, she pulled me across her. I clambered upon her without delay as she opened her legs to allow me to kneel in front of her open cunney. She took my rampant cock in her hand and guided it between her cunney lips. What exquisite pleasure! I enjoyed the grip of her velvet cunney walls as she moved her hips sinuously, as I pumped up and down, my balls smacking lewdly against her bottom with every thrust. I pounded to and fro, my hands clasping her full, round bum cheeks as I felt the spunk boiling up in my balls for a second libation. Alas, I could not wait until she achieved her climax. With a mighty groan I flooded her cunt with a torrent of sperm, as jets of frothy love juice poured out of my prick, completely filling her cunney and dribbling down her inner thighs. To my great regret, she had to finish her domestic duties and so we did not have time for a third encounter. But she has promised me that we will be able to meet again on her days off. I saw her yesterday and we made an arrangement for next week, as her monthly period will have ended by then. Now, Doctor, my query is this. Am I beholden to this charming girl who took my virginity in such a sweet fashion? Should I reward her with a present of some sort, and would monetary gifts be spurned? Jack Charlton c/o Dunton-Green Academy for the Sons of Gentlefolk Kent March, 1891
DOCTOR JONATHAN REPLIES:
My dear young man, may I congratulate you on your good fortune to find so kind a mistress on your first journey across the sea of lubricity, upon which we all desire to sail. First love may be idyllic or it can bean unqualified disaster. You will always remember your first sexual union with great pleasure, and I am glad that you wish to reward your partner in some way for her services. I think the actual gift of money would be incorrect. It smacks too much of a commercial transaction. But a gift of clothes or of perfume would not come amiss. It so happens that your name is not entirely unknown to me as I recall Mr. Peter Stockman, the greatest cocksman south of Birmingham, telling me that his sister Mrs. Charlton had a son at your school. So I have taken the liberty of passing your letter to your uncle, who says that you may buy anything up to the value of twenty pounds on his account at the new emporium in Oxford Street, London, Messrs Selfridge's. If you obtain the opportunity to enjoy a whole afternoon of fucking with Sarah, do try and have some refreshments like sandwiches and lemonade available, for the worship of Venus and Priapus requires continual stimulation by the fuel of tasty eatables. Finally, do pass me the address of this delicious girl as I would very much welcome the chance to offer my medical services to her.
Dear Doctor Jonathan,
My boyfriend is the noted publisher Mr. Kenneth Watkins, who is not unknown to readers of The Oyster as his dalliance with Lady Pentos was well documented in these pages two years ago. Mr. Watkins possesses a large country seat in the Midlands and sports a fine ten-and-a-half-inch-long prick, about which I can find no fault except perhaps that my poor cunney does get somewhat sore after a good night's fucking. I can gladly testify that he is a skilled and considerate lover, even though he can now only perform four times a night these days. Not that he has left youth far behind, but as he said to me over a glass of wine the other day: 'to know how to grow old is the master work of wisdom and one of the most difficult chapters in the great book of living.' Alas, he has now developed an obsession about climaxing, of which I hope you will help me rid him. I can best illustrate the problem with an example. Last night we were guests at a dinner given by Lord and Lady Nayland for the noted author Miss Heather Dewsnap whose novel The Shackled Heart has won such wide critical acclaim. We arrived back home just before midnight and I was first to undress after we had completed our toilets. I sat on the bed fondling his rock- hard cock through his trousers, which he unbuttoned to let his manly staff shoot out like a coil. He sat down beside me and worked his hand down my dampening mound, moving his hand between the edges of my crack as we exchanged a passionate kiss. I clasped his hand between my legs as I lowered my head to kiss the majestic crown of his thick prick. 'Let's continue this in bed,' he whispered, and he quickly finished undressing as I admired his good looks, his handsome face, ice blue eyes and firm, manly chest as well as his extremely big cock which stood straight up against his belly. We smiled and embraced, our tongues entwining in each other's mouths. He rolled me over on to my back and firmly pressed his diamond-hard monster against my pussey lips. I was really enjoying myself and my cunney lips were now swollen with desire. With a deep groan he thrust his magnificently strong prick straight in without the slightest difficulty. His balls slapped against my bum as I wrapped my legs around his broad back and dug my nails in his shoulders. We rolled around on the bed until I found myself on top. His chest and shoulders were glistening with sweat as I rode him like a jockey rides a thoroughbred. My cunney was now on fire as dear Kenneth's huge cock trembled and twitched in a manner which I knew heralded his spending. I felt his body go rigid and then he arched his back upwards and shot once, twice and his spunk jetted out with such intensity that I could almost imagine it splashing off the rear wall of my cunt. Indeed, so abundant was his spurting that my thighs were well lathered until his tingling prick withdrew and rubbed itself amorously in a last salute against my sticky cunney lips. 'You haven't spent yet, have you, Margaret?' he queried as we lay together recovering from this grand fuck.
'I'm afraid not,' I replied. 'But it really doesn't matter a bit.
I enjoyed the fucking immensely and I don't have to spend every time.'
This truthfulness caused him to frown. 'Yes, it jolly well does matter,' said Kenneth. 'I am sure that achieving peaks of pleasure at the same time is what we are supposed to aim for, and I must be doing something wrong if we don't manage it.' I tried hard to assure him that he was wrong but he refused to be comforted. Please, Doctor Jonathan, will you add your voice to this debate as he reads your column religiously and does take heed of your wise words. Yours in hope, Margaret Finchley Bedford Manor Dunstable December, 1894 DOCTOR JONATHAN REPLIES:
My poor girl, I do feel so sorry for you! Of course there is no point whatsoever in working towards simultaneous climaxes. If they occur, jolly good luck, but there is absolutely nothing to be gained in labouring diligently and holding back or forcing forward merely to achieve such a situation. One can become obsessed with timing and become so involved that everything else is forgotten. In any case, climaxing at different times allows one partner to concentrate on exciting the other which is far more important. Yes, it can be fun to spend together but as far as I am concerned it's a very minor matter, and I hope Mr. Watkins will soon forget all about it.
Sir,
Your readers will be aware that in almost every country in Europe today there is either war or rumour of war between employers and workmen. Not a week, scarcely a day passes but we witness determined struggles between those opposing bodies, the workers demanding better conditions, and the employers resisting these demands. Strikes and lock-outs are so Common that it would be difficult to find a manufacturing town in Great Britain of any importance where one or more such struggles are not now being waged. This situation indicates a terrible discontent, and I do not hold to the view of those grandees who care to pretend that it is all due to the work of a few mysterious agitators who refuse to let well alone. Neither does my old friend Lady Henrietta Hughes, who I visited at her lovely country house in the Kentish village of Orpington recently. Although cruelly widowed at the early age of thirty-two after Sir Roger succumbed to a fever whilst in India, she retains a delightful bloom with
