would have been in the affirmative), she slid her rich lips around my knob. I felt my shaft slide into her throat and she gobbled so lustily that I was reluctantly forced to removed my prick from its sweet prison or I would have very soon spent inside her mouth. I said nothing, but the salacious girl understood and cast herself back on the mattress, spreading her legs wide apart. 'Come now, Master Henry, show me if you really do know what to do with your thick stiffie,' she said teasingly. With my cock waggling in excited anticipation, I clambered upon Louisa's soft body without further delay and I let out a husky sigh when she took hold of my cock and positioned it at the entrance to her love funnel.
Slowly I pushed forward and my knob eased between her yielding love lips and into the haven of her juicy cunt. 'Ahhh, that's divine,' she breathed as I moved gently back and forth to enjoy the feel of the silky grip of her cunney muscles. 'Now keep still and let me fuck your cock.' I did as I was told, holding myself perfectly still whilst Louisa moved her body in a sinuous rhythm, working her clinging cunney up and down my shaft. Then I joined in, pumping my hips up and down whilst my balls smacked against her bottom with every thrust. 'Go on then, Master Henry, ram away!' Louisa cried out as I slewed my shaft in and out of her sopping slit. I pounded to and fro at an ever greater pace, my hands clasping her beautiful bum cheeks as I felt the spunk boiling up in my balls. Sensing that Louisa was somewhat behind me in the final sprint towards the pinnacle of pleasure, by a great mental effort I managed to delay the moment of truth for another half-minute. But as my cock continued to slide against the sleek walls of Louisa's cunney, I knew that my spend could not be denied any longer. With an almighty groan I flooded her crack with a foaming spray of spunk. Jets of jism spouted out from my sated prick and mixed with Louisa's own love juices which now poured from her pussey as she climaxed with me in a wonderful mutual spend.
'Gad, the lad certainly does know how to fuck!' she panted happily. Mr. Reynolds agreed and gave me a curious look as he commented: 'You have certainly benefited from a line tutoress in the sensual arts, Dashwood. Be for ever grateful, my lad, because first love can be either idyllic or an unmitigated disaster, and you have had the good fortune to have had a partner who has obviously helped to make your passage into manhood an extremely pleasant experience.
'Now, we had best get back to work. I have to finish this picture of Louisa for Lord Bresslaw and you had better produce a couple of sketches of her for Mr. Hutchinson. Incidentally, I would suggest that you draw only her face or he might become suspicious!' he added with a chuckle. We dressed ourselves, but frankly, I was still too excited to concentrate on my work. Mr. Reynolds kindly added a few well-judged lines to my own poor efforts before I left to take tea with George Nugent-Bull, Johnny Bridges and some other chaps in my study. As it was George's birthday, Johnny and I had planned a slap-up spread. Dusk was falling rapidly and the football match should have finished. The boys must have still been in the showers for no-one had yet returned from Fletcher's Fields. I opened the cupboard and carefully coaxed a tempting plum cake from its packing. Then I filled our biscuit barrel with a mixture of coconut and shortbread biscuits and set out the meringues and jam tarts we had selected from the tuck-shop along with the other goodies. Then I reached up and brought out the present Johnny and I had purchased for George from a shop in Ashford. It was a travelling chess set with pegged men in a polished mahogany box which cost us half a guinea. But George is a true friend and neither Johnny nor myself begrudge the cash, although after buying the grub for the birthday tea, I shall have to beg some extra funds from Mama to see me through the rest of the term! It was now almost half past four. I completed the feast by preparing two large jugs of lemonade and I remembered to take out the small extra present for George which I had bought from a novelties shop for sixpence and which I thought he would find amusing. As I laid out the glasses, I heard the noise of footsteps and excited chatter in the corridor outside and Johnny Bridges burst in with George, Billy Goodall, Stephen Harvill and Bob Fowkes. 'Hello, Henry, I hope every thing is ready for the birthday boy, it's been a marvellous day so far, a soccer match instead of afternoon school and our team winning a splendid game by five goals to two,' George cried.
When he saw that I had laid out the splendid tea he clapped me on the back and said: 'Gosh, what a feast! Just as well you and Johnny bought so much grub from the old tuck shop, I'm starving after the footer! Come on, chaps, dig in and help me make the most of my birthday.' I was as hungry as the others after my own indoor feats and we fell upon the food like a pack of hungry wolves. Then, after we had assuaged our hunger, we toasted George in lemonade, and on behalf of Johnny and myself, I presented George with his chess set.
He thanked us warmly and I smiled at the puzzled frown on Billy Goodall's face when George mentioned how grateful he was to me 'for the set of extra tutorials.' Not wishing for Billy to pursue this matter further, I gave George my personal extra present of the 'Seebackroscope' which he thought was a most amusing gift. 'With the aid of this instrument, the possessor can see behind him,' he read out from the leaflet which accompanied the small rubber periscope.
'Observe who is following you without attracting attention by turning around, simply by placing the Seebackroscope to your eye. 'Thanks a lot, Henry, this could turn out to be jolly useful,' he said.
Johnny laughed and said that George could also have great fun with the Seebackroscope next year when he stayed with his parents at their summer house in nearby Felpham, standing outside the bathing machines on the beach at Bognor Regis! 'Ha, Ha, Ha! What a jolly idea! And, before then, I'll practise standing with my back to Mr.
Hutchinson and see if I can note down the answers to our maths homework,' suggested George. We demolished the rest of the plum cake and spent the remaining time till 'prep' in a merry mood, swapping ribald jokes. The best of these came from Billy Goodall who recounted an anecdote about a gentleman of the Romish persuasion who went to Confession one morning and informed the priest that he had been fucking one of the servant girls for the previous month. The priest admonished him and warned him that if he did not desist indulging in such carnal sin, upon his demise he would be consigned to the fiery depths. Much chastened, the gentleman left the church but, a mere week later, was back again in the confession box with an agitated expression on his face. 'Father, I tried tremendously hard not to fuck Matilda, but this morning, when I saw her bending over as she filled a shopping basket, I simply could not refrain from throwing up her petticoats and poking her.' 'My son, my son,' cried the horrified priest. 'Think of your immortal soul which will be barred from the doors of heaven!' To which the gentleman smiled wanly and replied: 'Perhaps so, and in the meantime I am also barred from the doors of Mrs. Estelle Cohn's Emporium in Kensington High Street!'
We roared with laughter at this comical tale and Johnny said: 'That joke reminds me of a little “Nursery Rhyme”: “From the depths of the crypt in St Giles, Came a scream which resounded for miles, Said the vicar, 'Good gracious, Has Father Ignatious Forgotten the Bishop has piles?'” This set off a round of rude rhymes of which I can only recall Stephen Harvill's: 'A comely young lady named Ransom, Was ravished five times in a Hansom, When she cried out for more, A voice from the floor Groaned “Madam, I'm Simpson, not Sampson!'” I enjoy a smutty story or poem which possesses genuine wit, but alas, I can never remember even the best of them.
Hopefully I shall now be able to rectify this situation by writing in this diary which will act as a repository for the most amusing jests which I wish to recall. Because of Mr. Hutchinson's absence, there were only some Latin verbs to mug up for 'prep' and George and I had plenty of time to take a short stroll down to the gymnasium to return the referee's whistle to Bunny Hare which George had absent-mindedly left in his shorts whilst changing into his ordinary clothes after the match. No-one was training in the gymnasium when we entered but in the far corner there was a light and a low murmur of voices coming from Mr. Hare's office. 'Why on earth is old Bunny sitting in his office when he has turned off the gas jets in the gym?'
I murmured as I closed the door quietly behind us. 'What the blue blazes can he be up to?' George grinned as he pulled the Seebackroscope out of his pocket. 'Stay here for a moment, Henry and I'll find out,' he said. He padded noiselessly across the wooden floor and climbed silently up the stairs to the changing area. At first, I wondered what he was about, but then I remembered that last week, at morning assembly, Dr Muttley informed us that some wood was found to be infested with dry-rot in the gymnasium and that for a few days there would be a gap of about ten inches between the planks of the upstairs floor, almost directly above the gymnasium office. 'Be careful to avoid this area, there is no danger of the floor collapsing underneath your weight, but we don't want anyone catching their feet in the hole,' the headmaster had warned. I realised that George would have no need of his Seebackroscope for he would be able to peer downwards for a bird's eye view of Bunny Hare's room. I waited for a minute or so and then made my way upstairs to join him, taking care to move as quietly as possible on the boards. Luckily, they were sturdy and didn't creak. When I reached George, he was down on his knees with his eyes glued to the gap and he beckoned me over to see for myself what was happening directly beneath him. As I
