I observed as I passed the sheet back to the Countess. '“Doggie fashion” happens to be one of my personal favourites although I am sure there are many sexual positions about which I am completely ignorant.' 'Oh, come now,' she said roguishly. 'I am sure that a good-looking young fellow like you has experimented widely in this field. Mind, the Indian Kama Sutra lists more than twenty major positions for fucking though Trevor Tyler insists that in practice there are really only six and all the others are simply variants.'
She patted my thigh and was about to say more when Nancy flounced back into the room carrying my chrysanthemums in a crystal bowl.
'There, don't flowers brighten up the room?' she said brightly. 'Now I hope you two are getting on famously.' Indeed we are,' I replied, struggling up from the deep cushions of the sofa. The Countess has just been telling me about the proofs you are checking of Dr Trevor Tyler's wonderfully interesting new book.' 'Ah yes, I'm so pleased you approve, Rupert. So many people have hidebound attitudes to an activity without which, let's face it, the human race would cease to exist! Anyhow, luncheon is served so you will have to escort both Marussia and myself into the dining-room.' 'That will be my pleasure,' I said with a bow. So I walked into the dining-room with a lovely girl on each arm. The marvellous meal we ate testified to the wisdom of household cooks attending a course at Mrs. Bidder's Academy of Domestic Science. We dined sumptuously on Terrine d'aubergines et poivres rouges aux saveurs de Provence followed by a tasty filet de fletan roti sur aromates au fumet de fin rouge and as the main course succulent cotelettes d'agneau roties a la chapelure provencale et legumes d'ete finished off with assiette de fruits du moment au Sabayon de Kirsch et sorbet cassis. We were attentively served by Hutchinson, the Negro butler, Standlake, and two housemaids and we drank at least two bottles of a very smooth Chablis as Hutchinson was always on hand to ensure that our glasses were never empty. Then we returned to the drawing-room for petit fours and (in honour of Marussia) the Russe avec citron. By this time we were all slightly flushed and feeling very well disposed to each other. Indeed, Nancy's shiny blonde hair, which she had been wearing in rather severe brushed curls, now hung in long, silky strands down to her shoulders.
With Nancy in the middle we were all sitting on the luxuriously soft sofa when, after serving us glasses of hot lemon tea, Hutchinson left the room and closed the door behind him. Nancy squeezed both my hand and Marussia's and said, 'My dears, you must try some of the special thirty-year-old cognac I was given by Monsieur Istvan Tihanyi in Paris.' 'Not Monsieur Istvan Tihanyi who owns the dildo manufactory near Drancy?' said Marussia excitedly. 'Yes, the very same. Why, do you know him, Marussia?' 'Of course I do-Istvan has been a close friend for several years. Only last summer he fucked me beautifully after Senator Lipmann's Quatorze Juillet ball in Paris.
Nancy heaved herself up and walked to the sideboard and brought out the bottle and a silver tray with three balloon shaped brandy glasses placed upon it. She poured out generous measures of vintage cognac and Marussia suggested we drank a toast. To our charming hostess,' I suggested. Nancy thanked me and added, 'Coupled with the names of my two dear friends Marussia and Rupert.' We then drank a toast to Marussia's hero, Tamburlaine the Great, who in the fourteenth century had made Samarkand the chief economic and cultural centre of mid Asia. Then followed toasts to the United States of America, King Edward VII, Prince Adrian of the Netherlands (who often escorted the Countess on the Continent) and then to Monsieur Istvan Tihanyi's penis which the girls assured me was of heroic proportions. 'Nancy, how did you come to meet Istvan?' demanded Marussia. 'Did you meet him at his place of work?' 'Not at first,' answered Nancy. 'Our first meeting was at the Moulin Rouge where we were both guests at a party given by the American community in Paris to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of His Excellency, Mr. Barry Gray, our new Ambassador to France. Istvan and I began talking and I must say I was fascinated when he informed me of his business.' At this point I interrupted the conversation and said, 'Forgive me ladies, but I must confess ignorance of this gentleman and his work. Perhaps one of you could enlighten me.' 'Certainly, Rupert,' said Nancy cheerfully. Istvan Tihanyi owns an exclusive dildo factory patronised by the creme de la creme of European Society. His speciality is the production of ladies' comforters, individually made for clients based on the dimensions of the husband or lover as required.' How fascinating,' I commented, 'but I am rather surprised there is any demand for such artefacts.
Surely there is a sufficiency of living male members to satisfy any need?' Countess Marussia answered my question. 'Alas, no, for there are many women of the very highest standing in Society who are in great need of a good godemiches. To begin with, think of all the married women who cannot count on being regularly fucked by their husbands. For example, those married to men of business who have to be away from home, often for days on end. Then there are service wives who are often separated from their menfolk for months, and sometimes when these men return they are so fatigued from fighting that they are unable to resume their marital duties for a considerable while.
Finally, one must never forget those unfortunate ladies whose husbands are no longer capable of performing their conjugate for other reasons such as over-indulgence in imbibing, and those, such as dear Lady Bertha Bumble, who have been tragically widowed at an early age, though in her case of course, she has been consoled more than adequately by her brother-in-law, Lord Radlett, who fucks her every other Thursday afternoon whilst his wife plays bridge at the local Constitutional Club.' My hostess nodded her agreement and added, 'So you see, dear Rupert, there is a genuine and continuous demand for a discreet but effective substitute for a stiff, hard cock. Anyhow, many ladies commission a dildo of the same dimensions as a particularly well-loved prick and gentlemen being forced for one reason or another to leave their lovers, also contact him to produce a matching set of basin, ewer, soap dish and dildo for the boudoir.'
She stood up and went back to the sideboard from which she brought out a small silver box which she placed in my hands as she sat down again and said, 'After spending three nights of lusty abandon with Monsieur Tihanyi, I was thrilled to receive from him this charming momento of a glorious fuck.' I opened the box and looked down upon a superbly fashioned ceramic cock nestling on a small, plump velvet cushion. It was painted in pale blue and further decorated in a complicated yet somehow familiar design of maroon and gold diamonds and hoops. Nancy must have read my mind for she commented, 'You may recognise the pattern, Rupert, for these are Monsieur Tihanyi's racing colours.' This remark jogged my memory and I now recalled wildly cheering on the jockey who was wearing these selfsame colours as he won the Portnoy Stakes on a game little filly called Lady Norma at Goodwood the previous summer. It had truly been a glorious Goodwood as far as I was concerned for although the weather had not been as fine as usual, I had placed ten pounds each way on Lady Norma at odds of seven to one and later in the afternoon I accepted the invitation to mount Mrs. Chelmsford in a private tent whilst everyone else was watching the last race. 'It is certainly a very beautiful gift,'