'Three nights in all,' said Gwendolen. 'On the third night, about dawn, we released him back into the wild.' 'And nothing was ever discovered?' 'Not really.' 'What do you mean, “Not really”?'
I asked. 'Well, there was one tiny incident…' said Gwendolen. 'Do you remember Miss Brightwell?' 'The young temporary art teacher,' I said. 'Yes,' said Gwendolen. 'Well, she happened upon Bess creeping up the back staircase that led from the kitchens to the attics. Bess had a bowl of nourishing stew under a cloth. Thinking that some sort of forbidden night-time feast was taking place in the dormitory, she had followed silently behind her. She found the gipsy, John Smith was his name, in the lumber room, giving some private tuition to two of the girls. A lesson had just finished. Meg was lying back, recovering from a most searching examination of her inner parts, while Deirdre…'
'That thin girl with a most active tongue,' I said. 'The same,' said Gwendolen. 'She was using the same active tongue in order to lick our tutor back into sufficient life for him to perform his duties all over again. She was most assiduously sucking and teasing his cock back to its standing position when Miss Brightwell appeared at the door.' 'How terrible,' I said. 'What did she do?'
'She was a jolly good sport,' replied Gwendolen. 'Everyone, of course had stopped what they were doing except Meg who was too far gone in her post-fuck daze to notice anything. She just lay there, stroking her exhausted quim while Miss Brightwell looked about her and the said “John Smith, I believe.” The gipsy turned and said “Rachel!”'
'Goodness me,' I said. 'It turned out that they had met some months previously when she was engaged in a series of circus sketches on Blackheath in south London. That of course was immediately prior to her having taken up a temporary position at Miss Bradshaw's. I later saw some of her drawings. They are most exotic. Trapeze artists and acrobats are flexible beyond the imaginings of us ordinary mortals.
Such contortions and such fucking and all in positions that I swear would be quite impossible without grave risk of permanent injury to someone untrained. One of the artists, wearing only a little spangled costume, had her legs locked round the back of her own neck and had then craned forward so that her face was but a few inches from this immense cock that was plunging deep into her gaping quim.'
'Gracious!' I said, 'What a coincidence.' 'Furthermore,'
Gwendolen went on, 'it appeared that she had not restricted her activities to just recording such details. She had several times enjoyed a thorough fucking at the hands, or rather the prick, of John the Gipsy. Although these instances she had not of course been able to record in pencil or watercolour.' 'What happened then?' I asked.
'She very sportingly said that she would not report anything that she had seen just so long as she took the next turn. Miss Minge-for that was John the Gipsy's nickname for her-quickly slipped off her rather artistic and loose fitting dress and stood before us in a delightfully unashamed nakedness. She was so slim and pretty that my heart went out to her. Her breasts were quite small but she had the longest, most provoking nipples that I have ever seen.' 'Like nipples, like clitty,' I murmured. 'Indeed, yes,' said Gwendolen.
'John's gipsy tongue almost at once had all three protuberances flushed and charged. The contrast between them and her slim, white body was tantalising in the extreme. When she drew in her breath, all her ribs stood out and her hipbones framed the plumpness of her curly haired mound. They fucked standing up, very quietly and very deliberately. We were all spell-bound and I realised that the human body can indeed be a work of art in itself. Bess was standing there open-mouthed, quite forgetting the bowl of stew which was growing cold in her hands. Only when Miss Brightwell came with a little choking cry, did she remember where she was. I think we were all in something of a trance. John the Gipsy, who had been very controlled in his fucking, held on to her as she quivered and shook with her coming. He stayed in her until she had ground to a halt, supporting her until she had regained her composure.' 'One of nature's Gentlemen,' I said.
' Far more of a gentleman than some others much better born that I have entertained,' agreed Gwendolen. 'He was Consideration personified.' 'I have been secretly reading the works of Mr.