CHAPTER TWO. Lascivious Liaisons
Despite Claire's optimistic forecast that I would soon regain my potency, I refused Phil's offer to take me out for a slap-up dinner at his club, saying I had indeed been overdoing it a bit lately and that an early night would do me good.
When I returned home I was puzzled for a brief moment to find myself alone. Then I remembered that my house-mate Teddy Carmichael would not be back from his trip to Paris until the following afternoon. Gloomily, I searched in the larder for something tasty for my supper and was comforted to find one of Mrs. Pelgram's veal and ham pies. I cut off a generous portion and washed it down with a bottle of Heineken Pilsener lager.
After I finished this meagre meal, I retired to the living-room and picked up one of the manuscripts I had brought home from the office. As Mr. Mac Arthur had forecast, nothing I had yet read had warranted further consideration by an experienced editor at Hartfield and Moser, and I expected nothing to change as I stared balefully at the title page of Modern Daughters by one Miss Abigail Wiggins.
But as I riffled through the pages, I imagined I saw the phrase 'She begged him to fuck her' appear before my eyes. I was so surprised that the script dropped out of my hands onto the floor. Luckily the pages had been stapled together in bunches which I was able to pick up with ease. I turned to the first page where Miss Wiggins had thoughtfully written a summary of the plot and discovered that the story involved a group of wild women from the suffragette movement who would do anything to secure for their sisters the right to vote.
Therefore it was with an unexpected eagerness that I waded into the novel. I discovered that the heroine of the stirring tale was a feisty girl named Danielle who had planned to seduce Sir James Horobin, a junior Government Minister, in order to win his support for the cause, but had fallen hopelessly in love with him and thus placed herself on the horns of an awkward dilemma.
I read with interest how the affair began when she succeeded in attracting the attention of Sir James who had been quickly smitten by her charms. A few days later she accepted his invitation to accompany him to Covent Garden to hear Signor Caruso and Madame Melba in a gala performance of Carmen. Danielle was aware of Sir James's reputation as a ladies' man but, after they had dined at Jackson's Restaurant opposite the Opera House, she agreed to go back with the elegant M.P. to his rooms in nearby Bloomsbury Way. Told in Danielle's own words, the story continued as follows:
Sir James placed a bottle of champagne in an ice-bucket and sat down next to me on the sofa. Then he drew me close to him and we exchanged a brief kiss whilst he caressed my body with long, sensual strokes. Gently he took my face in his hands and now we kissed more passionately, our tongues sliding in each other's mouths whilst his hands prowled beneath my clothes, enticing me to surrender to the feel of his fingertips on my tingling skin.
In a low voice he whispered, 'Danielle, I have no right to speak in this way after only such a brief acquaintance, but you have bewitched me, you dear girl. I must tell you desperately I want to make love to you tonight.'
Intrigued and excited by the sensations which were coursing through me, I said nothing, blocking out everything in my mind except for the excitement I felt when Sir James began to undress me. I helped him by scurrying out of my dress and very soon he was passing his lips over my bare breasts, licking and lapping my erect tawny nipples in great style.
Meanwhile I allowed my hand to glide over the huge bulge in his crotch and this aroused Sir James almost beyond endurance. He groaned as I touched the tip of his pulsing prick through the fine material of his black evening trousers. The feel of his cock made me desperate to get rid of whatever separated his body from mine and Sir James smiled whilst I delicately unbuttoned his flies. He slipped off his braces from his shoulders as he breathed: 'Yes, my darling, please release my imprisoned cock or I may well spunk inside my expensive silk drawers.'
'Well, we wouldn't want that to happen, would we? 'I murmured, slipping my hand inside his trousers to pull out his hot swollen shaft which stood bolt upright in salute. Sir James closed his eyes and slowly exhaled a long deep sigh of relief.
He could be justifiably proud of his prick which was one of the largest I had ever seen with a wide ruby knob crowning a thick, barrel-like shaft. I wrapped my fingers around the palpitating pole and gave the ivory column a tiny tug whilst Sir James raised my head upwards. Our mouths melted together again and I trembled all over with unashamed longing for this handsome man to make love to me.
Our lips remained fastened together as we fell back on the sofa and now, secure in the knowledge that he was pleasing me, Sir James journeyed further. Sharing his sense of urgency, I lifted my bottom so he could tug down my knickers. Then he swiftly disrobed and I was able to explore the hard muscular masculinity of his lean body.
Now his hand worked its way inexorably up my thigh towards my groin and two of his fingers slid between my yielding love lips. I lay back and parted my legs to await the arrival of the smooth helmet of Sir James's cock pushing through my eager lust portal and I purred with delight as he continued to press forward into my welcoming wetness.
'Ooooh, that's nice,' I whispered and for a moment our eyes locked together before he covered my mouth with his own. Clutching my bum cheeks in his hands, he inserted the full pulsing length of his lovely thick prick inside my dripping sheath which magically expanded itself to receive its plump visitor. I could hardly speak for my love tunnel was totally filled by him. His cock squished in and out of my honeypot and his balls slapped against my bum as, with a powerful jolt of his loins, he embedded his mighty weapon to the very root.
Reader, I do realize that some measure of modesty should be preserved at all times-even during these ecstatic moments of erotic ecstasy. Yet I am not ashamed to admit that I immediately cried out for Sir James Horobin to thrust his rampant truncheon back inside my juicy cunt when he playfully teased me by pulling out all but the tip of his knob from my tingling notch.
'H-a-a-r! H-a-a-r! H-a-a-r!' he gasped as we fucked away in joyful unison, our bottoms heaving in rhythm as he slewed his sinewy shaft in and out of my luscious crack. 'What an exquisite cunt you have, Danielle! How tightly it clasps my cock! Carry on, my precious, work your bum up and down in time with my thrusts-but not so wildly or I will cum too quickly!'
We lost ourselves in blissful fulfilment as Sir James's throbbing tool pistoned back and forth. I gloried in each of his powerful strokes as my own juices dribbled down my thighs and sprinkled his ballsack. Cupped in his broad palms, the dimpled cheeks of my backside rotated in lascivious rhythm as his magnificent prick rammed home at ever-increasing speed.
Alas, although both of us wanted this superb fuck to continue for ever, Nature was not to be denied and when I felt the initial waves of an approaching spend rising in my cunney, I panted, 'I'm cumming, I'm cumming! I'm almost there! Y-e-s-s-s! Y-e-s-s-s! Y-e-s-s-s!'
'So am I!' croaked Sir James and buried his face in my neck as he began the climb to the highest peaks of pleasure. We were swiftly lost in the delicious throes of a mutual spend and my quim was soon awash with Sir James' sticky spunk as well as with a flood of my own cuntal juices.
Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night with him and the dear man fucked me three more times before I woke to see the first rays of dawn shining through the curtains of his bedroom. I cradled his head in my arms and smoothed my hand through his hair whilst I reflected on how much I had enjoyed my night with Sir James Horobin, a gentleman who not only possessed a powerful prick but, even more importantly, also took the necessary time and trouble to cater for the needs of his partner as well as his own.
Here the chapter ended. I let out a deep sigh as I carefully placed the script on the floor before unbuttoning my trousers to release my own throbbing todger which had been aching for relief from the moment I began to read Miss Wiggins's manuscript. I squeezed my shaft but, remembering Claire's farewell comment about needing to give my wedding tackle a rest, I resisted the temptation to treat myself to a five-knuckle shuffle.
Not that I believed that tossing off would do me any harm per se. As I have stated in earlier chapters of this unexpurgated autobiography, I am convinced that a great deal of nonsense is talked about 'the solitary vice'. When poor old Teddy Carmichael was caught having one off the wrist while reading The Cremorne by his school chaplain, the benighted cleric ordered him to dip his cock in a glass of cold water every morning as a punishment.
