when they began canoodling again, the randy girl unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his big, stiff cock. She grasped hold of his tool and began fondling it, sliding his foreskin back and forth in long, slow, pulling strokes. I began to feel a lovely tingle in my pussey as I watched her fist her hand up and down Sir Robert's thick prick whilst with her other hand, she caressed his hairy, pink ballsack. '“A-a-a-h! That's delicious, you saucy wench!” croaked Sir Robert, whose face was flushed with excitement.
“Now rub my cock a little faster because I'd better spend before anyone sees us.” So she obliged him by quickening the pace and, only a few seconds later, with a sudden spurt, a great jet of spunk shot out from his knob, all over his trousers. He pulled out a handkerchief and anxiously tried to clean off the sticky, wet stains but Maria told him not to fret and said: “Go upstairs and change, sir, then bring these trousers into the kitchen. These spermy stains will vanish after a good dab of Professor Fletcher's Elixir.” '“Just as well,” said Sir Robert with relief, but at this point I had to put my head back inside because Maria's remark made me choke with laughter. I use Professor Fletcher's Elixir for cleaning the grates whilst old Reynolds, the coachman, swears by it as a cure for constipation!”'
Laughing heartily, the girls left the library and my hand strayed down to my cock which was already as stiff as a poker, even before I had had a chance to look at Uncle's rude book. I didn't bother to look at the text but turned the pages to the photographs. There were some fine-coloured plates in the book but my favourite one was of a stark naked Indian girl, lying on a bed with her legs spread wide apart.
Through the mass of dark pussey hair, I could see her cunney lips, which were slightly open in anticipation of being fucked by the man standing by the side of the bed. His huge, stiff shaft was firmly held in the pretty girl's hand. I paused here and Johnny urged excitedly: 'Well tarry on, Henry, you can't stop there. Tell George and me about the rest of prints!' 'I'm afraid there isn't any more to tell,' I said regretfully. 'Just as I was gloating over this first photo, my uncle's housekeeper, the gimlet-eyed Mrs. Mutkin came into the library with a message for me from one of the neighbours, inviting Sir Robert and myself to make up a foursome for lawn tennis that afternoon. 'Although she made no reference to the book which I had left open on the seat, when I jumped up at the sound of her approaching footsteps, I am pretty sure that she caught sight of it.
For, when I hesitated to reply, she said meaningfully: 'Come now, Master Henry, it will do you far more good being out in the open air on such a glorious day than it will being cooped up here with a book.
In any case, your uncle has accepted the invitation so I have instructed Elsie to lay out your white shirt and trousers after luncheon.” 'When she swept out of the room, I wondered whether she might tell Uncle Robert that she had caught me reading an unsuitable book. I decided it was too risky even to keep the volume in my bedroom, so, there and then, I nipped up the step-ladder and replaced it back on the top shelf.' 'How pathetic of you!' George snorted with obvious disappointment, when I convinced him this was the end of the tale. Out of all the chaps I know, George is the one who most enjoys a rollicking, smutty story with lots of high jinks.
'Honestly, Henry, I'm surprised you didn't think about hiding the book somewhere safe where you could read it at your leisure whilst enjoying a jolly good wank. Then you would have been able to describe all the photographs to us. Johnny, I've half a mind now not to give him his birthday present!' I shrugged my shoulders and apologised for my apparent cowardice. 'Sorry about that, chaps, but if Uncle Robert had found out from Mrs. Mutkin that I had been reading something from his private collection, there would have been all hell to pay.'
'H'mm, I suppose that's fair enough, but I feel that one of us should write to Sir Robert and tell him that he shouldn't leave his spicy stuff lying around in his library if he doesn't want people to read it,' complained George. Then, with a grand flourish, he brought out a small package from his desk, wrapped up in coloured paper, which I guessed contained my birthday gift. 'Happy birthday, Henry, we do hope you like what we've bought you. As it happens, it would seem that we've chosen a very appropriate present, but if you don't really want it, we won't be at all offended if you take it back to the General Trading Company who will exchange it for something else.' I accepted the present with grateful thanks and unwrapped the paper to discover that my two best friends had clubbed together to buy me a magnificent Alanbrooke non-leakable fountain pen.
'Oh I say! It's just what I wanted,' I exclaimed in all sincerity, as I turned the pen over in my hands. 'But I know how expensive Alanbrooke pens are. You won't have had any change out of guinea for this beauty.' 'You're worth it, Henry, even if Johnny and I will be stony-broke till the end of the month,' said George with a smile.
'Besides, we know you're a ripping good sport and will stand us the odd jam tart and a bottle of pop in the tuck-shop' 'Don't be too sure of that, old man,' I warned him. 'Golly, you must now be waiting on tenterhooks for your next allowance from your father. Blimey, I've forgotten that you turn sixteen next week too. I'd better start counting the pennies!' 'Dear me, well before you decide to rob the safe in the headmaster's study, let me show you how to fill your new pen as you're hardly the most mechanically-minded chap in the form,' said George. 'Look, this is the shut-off valve which controls the ink supply. Don't worry, even when it's full you can carry it in any position in your pocket. Try it out and tell us if it writes smoothly. We asked for a medium, broad nib to be fitted, but if necessary, we'll send it back and ask for a finer one to be sent to you.' I wrote today's date on page one of this book and told my pals that the nib was perfect. Indeed, it is such a pleasure using my handsome new fountain pen that I've spent too much time on writing up this entry and not enough on my French homework!
Thursday, November 8th, 1895 (Before lights-out) What a red letter day this has turned out to be!
Certainly I can't believe I will ever forget it if I live to be a hundred! And it began so badly too with our form-master, Mr.
Hutchinson, making some cutting remarks about the poor standard of my French composition: 'Dashwood, I recall you informing me that you wish to become a foreign correspondent for The Times. Let me give you some good advice, my boy. Unless you pay more attention to your French and German, you may as well forget any idea of following such a career.'
'Tell him that you would study harder if you could have a subscription to La Vie Parisienne!' whispered Johnny, which earned him a swift imposition of fifty lines from our keen-eared teacher.
However, Johnny managed to finish his lines during break and things began to improve quite rapidly after luncheon. Johnny, George and myself – or the Tip Top Trio as we are wont to call ourselves – wandered down to Fletcher's Fields where some of the chaps had already gathered around the football pitch to watch the Albion Academy Colts take on a team from Beddinghurst College, a far larger school than ours, situated near Rye on the border between Sussex and Kent.
Not only does Beddinghurst have more boys from which to pick their teams, but the school prides itself on its sporting achievements. The results of our matches played against them show a heavy balance in our opponents favour. Still, we have a number of good, keen players and our new games master 'Bunny' Hare is a Varsity soccer and cricket blue and an inspiring coach who motivates us to play our hearts out for the honour of the old school. He strode into the dressing-room as we were changing for the match to give us a few final tips and words of encouragement. As captain of the side, I clapped my hands together, calling for silence as Bunny cleared his throat and told us not to be worried about Beddinghurst's fearsome reputation. He declared: 'Boys, as the trainers tell their fighters in the boxing ring, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And, whilst I won't pretend that we're not facing a first-class side this afternoon, man for man, we're just as good as they are and there's no reason in the world why we shouldn't win by at least three clear goals. 'Dashwood, I'm relying on you to keep things tight in defence – don't tackle unless you feel certain you're going to win the ball because you can't afford to sell yourselves and give their forwards the freedom of the pitch. Up front, I want to see first time passing to Bridges so he'll have every opportunity to use his speed, though make sure you look up and see what is happening before you pass, and if our centre forward is surrounded by defenders, play the ball out to the flanks. Jefferies, as a right winger you have the speed to take you past their defenders to the corner flag and Nugent-Bull, you're a most promising outside left. Just slip the hall into the middle as soon as you can and don't yield to the temptation of showing how clever you are by heating the same opponent twice.
'I know you won't make that mistake at centre half, Fowkes, just remember to stick like glue to their centre forward. Never let him get away from you and even if he wanders out to the wings, don't leave his side until he comes off the field. If you're drawn out of position, Edwards and Pearce will cover for you. And that goes for everyone, chaps. You must all work hard for each other. Now go out and show those Beddinghurst blighters how to play the game!' We ran out on to the pitch to great applause from the crowd of boys behind the ropes on the touchlines and I noticed that even members of the staff, including Mr. Hutchinson and the headmaster, were to be seen standing on the half-way line. The school magazine will carry a full report on the game so I will merely record that in the final minute of a hard-fought match, with the score standing at two goals each, we were awarded a corner kick. George floated over a perfect centre which the Beddinghurst centre half could only head
