cock in to the very root. We rolled, we screamed together as we fucked happily away. From the insistent throbbing of his shaft I knew that Jimmy would soon be spurting his spunk inside me and sure enough, my cunney clamped down in a final burst of ecstasy as his stiff, jerking tool shot a tremendous wad of hot love-cream deep inside me. I pushed my pussey up against him, burying his cock even deeper to let all that wonderful milky froth bathe the inner walls of my cunt until my whole body glowed with lust.
We lay still for a minute until Jimmy slowly pulled out and sat up, his chest heaving as he gasped: 'Never mind Kathie or any other girl, Rosie. I just cannot believe that any girl could hold a candle to you when it comes to fucking.'
This was a kind thought but I felt it was right to say something of importance to us both. 'Jimmy,' I said gently. 'I do appreciate the compliment and I assure you that I feel the same way. But well, frankly, neither of us has enough experience to know whether what you have just said is true.'
Jimmy looked puzzled. 'Rosie, I don't think I quite understand you,' he said anxiously.
'Well,' I replied carefully, 'don't think for a moment that I haven't enjoyed our fucking tremendously because I have-but we both need to broaden our horizons. Not only must there be other ways of making love for us to explore but by only fucking with other partners will we know whether we have truly touched the heights.'
He bit his lip and looked extremely crestfallen. 'Yes, I see now what you are trying to tell me. But, oh, Rosie, I will miss you horribly!'
'You silly boy!' I cried. 'There is nor reason at all why we should not continue enjoying ourselves-all that I am saying is that if you want to fuck Kathie, I won't mind at all. Similarly, if I encourage Dennison to stick his shaft between my legs, you must try not to take umbrage either.'
Jimmy brightened up at these words. 'Perhaps we could do that together. What did Sir David Nash call his fete a quatre in that letter he wrote in the last edition of The Oyster, oh yes, a whoresome foursome,' he mused, his eyes gleaming at the thought of such lewd rudery.
Well as the old Sussex saying puts it, if you brood over your troubles, you'll have a perfect hatch. Jimmy looked on the bright side and as it turned out, he was to take part in a whoresome foursome far sooner than he could have possibly imagined.
Although I urged Jimmy to follow the Latin poet's advice to carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero, I had no idea that later that very evening I would be encouraging him to slew his proud prick in and out of the love box of pretty Polly Potterley, the daughter of our village blacksmith. Readers blessed with retentive memory will recall her name for I mentioned her at the start of this narrative as the girl who sucked off Lord Gordon MacChesney whenever my randy old uncle could find the time and the place to be alone together with her.
I promised to keep a truthful record so I must unblushingly recount how Jimmy's initiation (and my own!) into partaking of the joys of forbidden fruit, i.e. making love with more than one partner. The facts of the matter are as follows: Jimmy waited for me to change and we decided to make our way to the music room. Jimmy was an accomplished pianist and I had accepted his offer to play for me whilst we rested from our previous erotic labours. On our way we met dear Uncle Gordon and Sarah who were just entering his bedroom. He looked terribly embarrassed and coloured up a bright red when I said sweetly: 'Good evening, Uncle, are you having an early night?' 'No, no, no,' he said hastily. 'I'm just going to instruct Sarah about my, ah, my, ah-'
'Bedclothes, perhaps?' said Jimmy helpfully.
'Ah, yes, thank you, young Horobin,' said Uncle gratefully. 'That's quite right, I'm just going to show her how I like my sheets and blankets to be arranged. Come, Sarah, this won't take long.' And with that he pushed the giggling girl into his room, and following her in smartly, closed the door and locked it behind them.
'Good old Uncle Gordon, I said he was a game old boy,' said Jimmy cheerfully, as we made our way to the music room. Our entire family play the beautiful Bechstein piano Papa purchased in Prague five years ago, whilst Jonathan (of whom I have neglected to mention was staying the night with the Nettletons who lived a mile or so on the other side of the village) and Mama were both talented violinists and were always in demand to perform at musical soirees given by Lady Judy Cole and other Society hostesses in London.
On reflection, I simply cannot offer an explanation as to why that night, almost without exception every inhabitant of Argosse Towers, resident and guest alike, all seemed to be engaged in some form or other of sensual play. Perhaps it was one of the herbs Mrs. Moser used to achieve the superb piquancy of her Poulet a l'lndienne or some succubal grape used to make the '98 white Bordeaux Uncle Gordon had taken up from the cellar during the afternoon. But whatever the reason, quite unbelievably for the second time on this extraordinary evening, Jimmy and I stumbled across a second scene of sexual intercourse!
Perhaps prologue rather than scene would be a fairer description-for sitting on the piano stool with his trousers and underpants around his ankles was our dinner companion Mr. Andrew Bennett, and kneeling between his legs was none other than pretty Polly Potterley, gently masturbating his thick semi-erect prick.
Here she was, holding Mr. Bennett's substantial stiffstander in her hands, lightly kissing his hairy balls; truly, when one does what likes and gets paid for it (and I am sure Polly was receiving more than grateful thanks from Uncle Gordon), one found one's niche in life. And Polly certainly enjoyed her work and was to find fame and fortune only a few short years afterwards.
Now, we were able to view Dennison and Kathie's coupling in the garage without being noticed but here there was no hiding place to hand, although I must record that neither Mr. Bennett nor Polly seemed unduly bothered by what I would have thought to be an unwelcome intrusion. 'Hello there,' called out Mr. Bennett hospitably. 'Do come in but lock the door behind you if you don't mind. Polly's going to suck my cock, aren't you, my dear, and I would prefer not to have any further interruptions.'
'Good evening, Polly,' I said, trying hard to keep my sang froid. 'What a surprise to see you here. Actually, when you're here I rather thought that you might be engaged with my uncle.'
The pretty young jade smiled sweetly back at me. 'Good evening to you, Miss Rosie. Yes, usually I'd be sucking off Lord MacChesney by now but tonight he wants to fuck my friend Sarah, your chambermaid, so he kindly introduced Andrew to me so making sure that neither of us would feel lonely this evening. Lord MacChesney is so considerate, isn't he? But who is the handsome young gentleman next to you, Miss Rosie? I'm sure I've seen his face before somewhere, it looks very familiar to me.'
'I hardly think so, Polly,' I said stiffly. 'This gentleman happens to be the Honourable James Horobin. Jimmy, this young woman is Miss Polly Potterley.' Jimmy reached out to shake hands with the little minx who released one paw from Andrew Bennett's erect prick to smooth her fingers over Jimmy's knuckles.
'I know where I've seen your face before,' she exclaimed. 'I saw your photograph last week in the Tatler. Lord Gordon gives me the society magazines every week after he has finished with them and I've read about you, haven't I? You play football for Eton, and you scored the winning goal against Charterhouse for the Trewin Trophy last March, if I'm not mistaken. Oooh, how exciting to meet you, sir, what an honour!'
Jimmy licked his lips and though I could hardly complain if he acted upon the advice I had proffered less than an hour ago, it did strike me that words of simpering admiration from a pretty girl is a blandishment few red-blooded men can resist. Mind, from the look of Jimmy's face and the stirring movement noticeable in the front of his trousers, I could see that he was not even making an effort to counter the charms of this brazen young hussey. 'Don't call me sir, my friends call me Jimmy,' he smirked, as he and Polly exchanged a meaningful glance which they did not even try to conceal.
'Hold on a minute, you two,' cried Mr. Bennett, who had also witnessed the mutual attraction between the randy pair. 'Now then, Polly, I don't want to sound troublesome but that's my old fellow you've got between your fingers and I thought you were going to give him a good seeing-to.'
'Oh, but I will, Andrew,' Polly promised him, although she looked straight at Jimmy as she added: 'I just love sucking pricks. I do so enjoy caressing a knob with my lips and sucking out the first blob of juice which I spread around the crown with my tongue. It feels so good licking and lapping a stiff shaft and taking it into my mouth. I like nothing better than when the man squirts out his sperm too, it is so exciting when it shoots down my throat that I always spend myself. There's nothing that tastes so fine and clean as spunk. Indeed, I could suck on cock for hours but none of the men can hold back for more than five minutes at best. It really is very unfair, don't you think, Miss Rosie?'
'I'm afraid I haven't given the matter much thought, Polly,' I said coolly, but Jimmy quickly took her part. 'It is unfair, Polly,' he agreed. 'However, I would very much like to offer my prick for your delectation.'
'Ooh, that would be lovely,' she replied with a saucy smile, before hastily adding: 'But first let me attend to Andrew who has been very patient.' The merry girl was pretty enough, her chin being charmingly dimpled with full
