Yet even as she planted her lips upon my shaft, which now dangled flaccidly over my thighs, I realised that I still had much to learn about fucking if I wanted to become such a cocksman as the merry young men-about-town whose exploits I had read about in Clee's naughty magazine. I resolved then and there to devote my life to the study and appreciation of l'art de faire l'amour. But I must return to my story-Diana and I worked on assiduously after this feast of fucking and when she showed me the result of her labours, I was most gratified to see myself immortalised through her perceptive artistry. She had sketched a most lifelike portrait of my face in bold sweeping lines, capturing the essence of my likeness and though I thought she flattered my physique (especially by the very prominent bulge under the fig leaf she was forced to paint over my cock and balls!) I told her in all candidness that for what it was worth, there could be little doubt that one day her work would hang on the walls of the Royal Academy in London. 'Do you really think so?' she said as she carefully packed up her materials and folded up her easel.
'Well, I don't suppose my words mean much to anyone but I'm going to ask you here and now to paint my picture again when I leave St Lionel's,' I said with genuine feeling. That's a deal-my very first commission,' she laughed. 'I won't charge you more than twenty guineas.' There was ample time for us to sit on the banks of the lazily flowing nearby stream as Diana had not forgotten her self-appointed task of washing her knickers and chemise which lay drying on the sun. She had slipped on her blouse and skirt and I had also dressed myself, for though the sun still blazed down, there was the remote possibility of some hobbledehoy of a farmworker or one of Mrs. Wigmore's domestics passing through the Wigmore's property on their way to work. I threw a pebble into the water and said somewhat hesitantly to Diana. 'Don't think me nosey but when did you first, er-' 'First fuck?' she interrupted brightly, for she could see that I was still too unsophisticated to speak in vernacular terms.
'I don't mind telling you about it. Let's snuggle down together and, whilst my underwear is drying, I'll tell you all about it. 'I suppose I'd always been attracted to my brother Humphrey's best pal, Ronald Greyfriars. Ronald and Humphrey both row for Cambridge University and they spend much of their vacation time together catching up on their studies as during termtime both spend too much time on the river and not enough in the library, especially for a difficult course such as law which they were both reading at Trinity Hall. As fortune would have it, Ronald was staying with us during last year's Christmas vacation and naturally, both he and Humphrey were invited to my birthday party on December 8th. You were invited, if you remember, but had to refuse as your parents had made arrangements for you to go down to London with them on a family visit to your Uncle, the one who sits in Parliament.' 'You mean Uncle Edmund, the Liberal member for West Bristol,' I said gloomily. 'Yes, I was dashed upset at the time but my parents insisted I joined them as he thought a tour round the House of Commons would be most instructional and improve my understanding of politics. It was quite interesting but I would far, far rather have been at your party!' 'Never mind, there will be other parties-anyhow, it was only a small affair with local friends. There was no dancing but we played parlour games after dinner and I think we all enjoyed ourselves. After my guests had left, Papa and Mama went to bed and suggested that I do likewise. I did go to my room but I wasn't sleepy even though it was quite late. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought I looked rather fetching in the new dress Miss Foggin from Harrogate had made up for me. It was an evening gown in decollete style and I insisted that it was cut as low as Mama would allow. She had insisted that it should be fringed with lace. I stepped out of the dress and took off my bodice. It was easy to unpick the fringe and when I slipped the dress back on, the cleft between my breasts was clearly visible now in the mirror when I leaned forward. I could see the swell of my breasts which were now only barely covered. The tips of my fingers passed lightly over my nipples and I thought how marvellous it would be to have Ronald's hands there in place of my own. 'As I said, I was too wide awake to sleep so I walked quietly downstairs to the library where I thought I would read the evening newspaper which I had not scanned. No-one seemed to be around although the lights were all burning, but then Armstrong rarely locks up until midnight so I was not alarmed when I thought I heard somebody moving in the drawing room. I opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to see that Ronald was still there, reading through one of his textbooks. '“Hello Ronald, are you burning the midnight oil? It's more than Humphrey would care to do,” I said.
'He rose from his chair and grinned. “Humphrey's worked harder than me or he'd be down here too to cram for these bally examinations.
But golly, young Diana, you look spiffing. Wait a moment though, there's something different about you. What is it now, let me see…
By thunder, I have it, you've altered your dress. What's happened to that fringe of white lace?” 'I was not in the least embarrassed by his question and I replied: “Well, if you must know, I thought my figure was much nicer to look at than a frilly piece of material.” 'He put down his book and moved closer towards me. “My God, I should say so,” he said thickly. “I remember when your chest was as flat as mine.” “But no more,” I said, touching his arm with my hand.
“I'm sixteen years old now and fully developed.” His handsome face betrayed his struggle to keep his composure as I deliberately leaned forward to expose even more of my breasts to his excited gaze. He took a deep breath but said nothing, though I could see that this show of the snowy white globes deeply affected him. I looked steadily at his deep brown eyes and said softly: Why don't we sit down for a minute on the Chusterfield and talk?” Still without speaking, he took my hand in his own and we adjourned to the aforementioned couch.
I knew full well that Ronald was simply dying to touch me but he needed some further sign of encouragement so we chatted quietly about this and that. After a while I decided that I would have to make the first move so I put my hand on his shoulder and let it rest there.
This did the trick! Indeed, I had not expected him to be so forward for suddenly he spun me around, turned my face up to his and kissed me passionately on the lips. 'A surge of excitement coursed through my veins for there was something about this kiss which made it impossible for me not to respond. “Diana, you have always epitomised the very quintessence of female beauty,” he muttered. “Goodness me, that's quite a little speech, could you not speak plainer?” I said, though I knew well enough what his convoluted words were attempting to convey. Ronald swallowed hard and said: “I mean, my darling girl, that I have an overwhelming desire to make love to you.”