'Well, mixed in with the altruistic motive behind the Count's generous gesture was the rather darker desire to own a set of skeleton keys to the private rooms and he paid for a secret set to be made for him.
These keys weren't simply used to embarrass other people, although you know how the Count enjoys a good practical joke and one afternoon he used his key to burst in to a room dressed as a policeman just as Lady Pachnos was about to sit upon Mr. George Bernard Shaw's quivering naked stiffstander. 'But what the Count actually wanted was to be able to nip into a room without even having to book it with the staff, so nobody, but nobody knew he was there. This facility was not really necessary as far as he was concerned, but it was of great importance for high-ranking personages. They even say his friend Mr. Tum Tum has used this facility to bring Mrs. Keppel and Mrs. Quentonne here for a quick fuck. 'However, be that as it may, Cripps somehow found out about the Count's little game and bribed a locksmith to make him a similar set of keys and he sells copies of them at a vast profit to selected Club members. 'Frankly, I wasn't in the market for such items but I happen to have the key to the third floor rooms as I won it from Tubby Meredith at a baccarat evening a few months ago. Now so long as the General hasn't bolted the door, I don't think we'll have too much trouble in joining his little party.' Henry was very impressed and he rubbed his hands in glee. 'Here's hoping,' he said, as I turned the key and gently pushed against the door which yielded to my weight. 'Hey presto,' I said softly, as I slowly opened it and we popped our heads round to see exactly what military manoeuvre was being attempted by General Gooner, whose heavy breathing we could hear before we saw for ourselves what was taking place. Well, whilst I did not expect to see the General standing in front of a blackboard, lecturing on lessons to be learned from the Boer War, I was still taken aback at the sight which greeted our eyes. For there on the bed, stark naked and flat on his back the gallant veteran lay with his hands clasped behind his neck. His chest was covered with matted grey hair and without the restrictions imposed by a belt, his corpulent belly sagged all over the place. But his gnarled old penis was standing up smartly enough, a thick, twitching love truncheon which was being manipulated by the buxom Maisie, one of the Jim Jam's barmaids, who was dressed, or more accurately half-undressed, in her black Club uniform. She was kneeling on the bed beside him and was still wearing her skirt but, in all probability assisted by General Gooner, she had taken off her blouse and chemise and her large, bare breasts looked mouth-wateringly ripe for a touch of masculine lips or fingers. We stood silently at the door, watching with growing interest as Maisie squealed, 'Stanley, please undo the buttons of my skirt so I can take it off before you fuck me.' 'Certainly, my dear, I'll do my level best but I don't know whether my old John Thomas is up to much today,' said the General doubtfully. However, he helped unbutton Maisie's skirt and she stopped frigging his prick in order to peel off her knickers and stockings. When she was naked she took hold of his cock in both hands but I could see that his tool had now wilted and despite some vigorous frigging and tonguing, Maisie seemed unable to coax it back up to an erection. 'Maybe this will help your old soldier stand to attention,' Maisie suggested, as she knelt in front of him, facing the curtained bay window. She stuck out her sumptuous backside and the General placed his hands on her rich, rounded bum cheeks and parted them to give himself a close-up view of her hairy pussey pouch and her wrinkled little bum-hole, whilst at the door Henry and I were also treated to a tantalising glimpse of the fur lined lips of her cunt. Maisie raised her buttocks and the General spread them open even further, showing her to be wet and open and she turned her head towards him and said, 'I'm ready and waiting for inspection, sir.' But he shook his head and looked sadly down at his flaccid shaft which flapped feebly against his thigh. 'Sorry, m'dear, it looks as though I shall be forced to run up the white flag even before battle commences. Gad, if I were only ten years younger, I would have had a massive boner by now! But lately, my treacherous old plonker has been playing the most diabolical games with me.
'Strange to think that when I was a young lad I had only to think fleetingly of a juicy cunt and it would swell up in an instant. All the working girls who serviced the cadets at Sandhurst used to say that Stanley Gooner's cock was the thickest and hardest of them all,' he added gloomily. 'Nowadays though, merely striving for a stiffie is enough to put paid to all hope of my achieving one.' 'Never mind, dear,' said Maisie comfortingly. 'I'll tell you what, why don't I lie down and you can bring me off with your fingers instead?' She settled herself down next to him and began to squeeze her own engorged nipples. 'Now then, Stanley, rub my clitty, there's a good boy,' she ordered, as she continued to massage her horned up teats. 'Ah, that's very nice, and slide your fingers in my cunney whenever you like, I'm getting really moist. Mmm, keep going, you'll have me going off in no time at all.' The General turned to the side and their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Then he bent his head down and while Maisie rolled one rubbery nipple between her thumb and forefinger, he sucked deeply on the other tawny tittle. Soon he was sliding three fingers up to the hilt inside her sopping slit and she threshed around wildly, her feet drumming a tattoo on the sheets as she tried to work herself off. Alas, it was obvious to Henry and I that she was having as little success as her partner, whose penis still lay obstinately limp despite all the action around it. 'Don't you think we should help out?' muttered Henry, who had already taken off his jacket and was unbuckling his belt. 'Oh yes, most certainly we should,' I said with a grin as I loosened my cravat. 'I would even go so far as to say that it is our bounden duty as Jim Jammers to aid Maisie reach her climax.' It took only a few short moments before we too were as naked as babes and we padded briskly up to the bed, our two stiff cocks standing almost up against our bellies. Our footsteps were heard by Maisie who sat up and gaped at us. 'What the hell-' 'It's the cavalry, Maisie, arriving just in time to ensure you enjoy a good spend! Seriously, don't worry, it's only me, Rupert Mountjoy and Henry Bascombe-Thomas. He's a Club member too but he's been away for some time so you might not recognise him.' She grinned lewdly at us.
'Who says I don't? His face has changed especially now he's shaved off his moustache, but I'd recognise Henry's roundheaded cock anywhere.'
I looked down at Henry's bulging boner and sure enough, Maisie's memory was absolutely spot-on, for like the handful of Jewish boys at St Lionel's and my close chum Prince Salman, who was a Mohammedan, Henry's slightly curved pecker was bereft of its foreskin. 'I'm truly honoured that you remember the shape of my tadger, Maisie,' said Henry politely. Though I'm damned if I can think where on earth you might have seen it before.' 'Dear, oh dear, still the absent professor, aren't you? Just before you went away-to America, if I'm not mistaken-the Club committee gave you a farewell supper followed by a presentation by one of the girls from Mrs. Wickley's place in Macclesfield Street. I can't believe you'd forget that!' Henry gave a loud chuckle as he stroked his throbbing tool. 'No, of course not-who could forget such a grand send-off! I thought the girl was going to present me with a wallet, a picture-frame or some momento of the Club. Much to my delight, she presented me with her pussey and I seem to recall that I fucked her on the dining-room table in the Harcourt Suite.' 'Quite right, and I was serving behind the bar and happened to notice how the knob of your love trunk had been bared, presumably when it was only a tiny sapling!' 'How observant of you! Yes, my parents took the advice of the learned Doctor Aigin of Harley Street who recommended the operation when as a very small boy I had an irritating rash on the skin round my helmet. I hardly remember the operation-which perhaps is just as well!' At this point General Gooner, who had understandably been very quiet during these exchanges, snorted loudly and thundered, 'Come now, gentlemen, enough of this idle chatter. For heaven's sake do your duty and fuck this poor girl without further delay. God knows she's been kept waiting long enough for a thick, stiff prick of whatever shape or size.'