red stalks. He then began to kiss her entire body from her forehead downwards until he arrived at her open pussey and I could smell Paula's tangy feminine aroma as she guided the good-looking young critic's thick prick into her yearning wet cunney.
She wrapped her arms and legs around his well-built frame and urged him to make it 'hard and fast, John — let me feel every inch of your big tool.' 'As you wish, my love,' replied the literary cocksman politely as he slowly moved on top of her and Paula responded excitedly, opening her legs wide and clamping her feet round his back as he guided his throbbing shaft into her soaking little nookie. She took up the rhythm of his thrusts and I could see her legs shake and tremble and from my own encounters with Paula, I knew that she would soon be spending.
This erotic spectacle was too much for me to bear and I grabbed hold of my own swelling shaft and pulled my fist up and down, frigging it to its highest erection. 'Join in, Lawrence, join in!' cried Paula so I approached them, my cock in my hand as I knelt down to insert my knob into Paula's willing mouth. She grabbed hold of my cock and pulled three inches or so into her mouth, lashing my pole with her tongue as she sucked noisily away upon it.
Sir Lionel Trapes now approached us, his great aristocratic cock twitching uncontrollably in his hand, but just before Paula could grasp it he cried out: 'I'm spunking!' and he pumped out spurt after spurt of hot sticky cream over the entwined Paula and John, who, oblivious to their coating of jism were still panting and thrusting. The end was nigh, however, and I felt the sperm boiling up in my balls as with a gasp I shot a fierce jet of juice into Paula's mouth as John gave a powerful surging stroke and drenched Paula's eager cunney with a flood of frothy sperm as her hands grabbed his bum cheeks, pushing him deeper and deeper inside her until they collapsed, utterly exhausted, in a tangle of limbs on the cushions, and I must confess that the somewhat uncharitable thought flashed through my mind that I would have to instruct Bacon to sponge the sofa as soon as possible with Lady Gaffney's special stain remover as love juices can be the very devil to remove.
Well, Mr. Editor, so ended the evening for me as Paula decided to spend the night with John Walsh and I was left to spend the night quite alone. As I wrote in the foreword to this missive, it certainly does pay to keep an accurate appointments diary, and I commend the diligent keeping of such records to all readers of The Oyster.
I am always, Sir, Your Obedient Servant,
(The Hon.) Lawrence Judd-Hughes
Dunton House
Albemarle Street
London, W
September, 1889
The Editor replies: Readers need not shed too many tears for Mr. Judd-Hughes who must surely be one of the most famed cocksmen in Old London Town. We know for certain that in the last six weeks he has plugged the cunnies of Lady Emily Aldegonde, the ravishing young redheaded ingenue at the Drury Lane Theatre, Miss Beatrice Buxley and the lovely Lucy Lockette, the seventeen-year-old daughter of Lady Clare, after first having his way with her dear Mama the previous evening!
If these memories of past glories fail to mollify our correspondent let him remember the verse he himself penned in a previous issue of this magazine two years ago:
When wishes first enter a maiden's breast,
She longs by her lover to be caressed;
She longs for her lover to do the trick,
But in secret she longs for a taste of his prick!
Her cunney is itching from morning to night,
The stiff cock of her boy will yield her delight;
She longs to be fucked, and for that does deplore,
For what can a young maiden wish for more?
She'd like very well to be laid on the grass,
To have two ample bollocks sent bang 'gainst her arse,
If fever or sickness her spirits doth shock,
Why, we know what she needs, 'tis a stiff standing cock!
Sir,
It is with pride that I pen this epistle to you for I believe that I can justly claim to be the first girl to be fucked by-Mr. Jeffrey Longbottom M.P. inside the portals of the House of Commons. Of course, I do not claim to be the first feminine recipient of Jeffrey Longbottom's cock in my cunney — his many conquests have been the subject of gossip in London Society for several years. However, I do claim the distinction of being the first to enjoy the pleasant sensation of lodging this clever politician's prick in my pussey during a Parliamentary debate, and at the suggestion of my old friend Sir Lionel Trapes I now set down the circumstances of this historic coupling, which I trust your readers will enjoy as much as I delighted in partaking of this lewd experience.
I had met Jeffrey at a dinner party hosted by Doctor Le Baigue in aid of the Society For The Dissemination Of Useful Knowledge Amongst The Deserving Poor and I was pleased to find that I was sitting next to him during our meal. During the small talk that accompanies introductions, we discovered we had friends in common in Scotland and we had indeed met before (though we had not actually been introduced as such) at Colonel David Taylor's summer ball at his country seat just south of Glasgow. Anyhow, Jeffrey and I chatted about this and that and I asked him about the newspaper reports on rowdy scenes in Parliament — were they as bad as had been detailed in the newspapers?
'Not really, m'dear,' he replied. 'It is quite true that in the House of Commons we have nowadays occasional scenes of disorder which are not very creditable to us. And amongst the Radicals there appear to be a few ill- mannered individuals who seem unaware of their responsibility and who bring contempt upon the body of which they ought to be proud. But I am sure that this is by no means a new state of things and that in former times similar scenes occurred.
'After all, we live in a sensational age,' he continued. 'The popular papers take up a little contretemps and blow it up out of all proportion. So readers are told about scenes in the Commons and think that the country is going to the dogs. They forget, though, how smoothly and on the whole satisfactorily the Government of this world-wide Empire with its three hundred million subjects is being carried on.'
'That is good to hear, Mr. Longbottom. However, I do hope that not all the business carried on is conducted in a terribly serious and formal way as I had planned to visit the House tomorrow as part of my studies for my entrance examinations to university.'
'Good heavens, you are not going to study Political Economy are you?' he gasped. 'Is a pretty young girl like you about to turn into one of these wild women who are demanding the vote?'
'I'm afraid that I am, but don't let's argue. After all, we won't convince each other of the correctness of our positions. And as I am sure that women will gain the vote in the end-for the tide of history cannot be turned back- there is little point in engaging in a debate.'
He laughed and said: 'By George, that's a fine way to win your points! I must use that trick in the House! But to reply to your original query, no, not all the business is conducted with great solemnity.
'It is a very curious thing but the House of Commons always seems to contain one amusing fellow. Mr. Joseph Chamberlain told me only last week that there is always one wit in the House and when he dies or ceases to be elected, another springs up immediately to take his place.'
'Is he usually a Liberal or a Conservative?' I enquired.
'Oh, he could belong to either party for along with his predilection for buffoonery he has a hatred for which ever Government happens to be in office.'
Now it was just at this point, when the lobster bisque was being spooned into the tureens of Doctor Le Baigue's famous and indeed almost priceless seventeenth-century French china dinner service, that I felt a foot insinuate itself between my own and rub gently up and down my leg. Surely it could not be Jeffrey Longbottom for
