'Nonsense! You're imagining things. Now hold still and Rosie will massage the back of your neck,' said Becky. 'I am not,' I said while I strained to see downwards. 'I am being sucked off under the table by a complete stranger!' 'Such language!' said Becky. 'That is not a polite expression to use before three young ladies.'
'But it is true!' I yelled out despairingly. The warm, loving mouth was now softly moving further and further up the distended length of my prick. Once again an eager tongue was licking delicately at the very tip of my member. 'Close your eyes,' said Becky. 'Take a deep breath. Rosie, sponge his forehead. Andrew is clearly suffering the most terrible pangs.' Now I felt a gentle tickling as an unseen hand began to play lightly over my aching balls.
I squeezed my eyes shut and wondered if I was going mad. I must have groaned out loud for suddenly Hannah burst out laughing. 'We have teased him too much,' she said. All three released me and I rocked back on my chair, desperate to uncover what was going on.
There, nestling between my thighs was the same golden head that I had glimpsed earlier in the meal. Then, with one quick little nip, the mouth was withdrawn and the sweetest, most adorable little face was turned up to look me full in the eyes. Starting backwards, I over-balanced on my chair. Flailing my arms I fell over. Rosie and Hannah jumped forward and just caught me before I measured my full length on the carpet. Pushing the chair Upright, they allowed me to leap to my feet. Crouched before me a complete stranger. I barely had the time to register that this was a quite delectable creature, when she rose to her feet, smoothing down her dress and holding out her hand. 'Andrew,' said Becky, 'This is Gwendolen Bunbury. A cousin.' 'The Honourable Gwendolen Bunbury, to be precise,' said Hannah. 'Had you been looking out of the window at the right time on your journey from Bristol, you would have seen on the horizon the distant outline of her family seat in Berkshire.' 'Miss Bunbury,'
I said, struggling to regain my composure but uncomfortably aware that the decorum of the occasion was marred by the fact that Mr. Pego was sticking out of my trousers and was drawn up rigidly to attention and in full view. 'Mr. Scott,' she replied, 'It is a great pleasure…' With that, she dropped a greatly exaggerated curtsy and once more took the tip of my member in her mouth.' 'Do you come from these parts?' she said, looking up at me. By now Hannah, Becky and Rosie were all in uncontrollable fits of laughter.
Tears were flowing down their cheeks and they were holding on to each other, almost helpless in their mirth. 'This is your Welcome Home present,' said Hannah. 'Gwendolen is in Town after a long sojourn in the country and Becky and I thought that the two of you should meet.
You in turn are Gwendolen's Welcome to London present.' 'But presents,' said Rosie, 'That I hope we can all share in.' 'It was Hannah's idea in fact,' said Becky. 'She thought that it would relieve the possible tedium of the dinner-table conversation. You are inclined, Andrew, to hold forth somewhat and we guessed that we might be subjected to a dissertation on the history and economy of Bristol.
Poor Mama did very well in plying you with the right questions. You should have seen your face when Gwendolen started her ministrations on you. You went all flushed and for a moment I thought you were quite going to lose the thread of your argument.' 'This has all been very unfair,' I said. 'Do you not like having your cock licked into action by a young lady? she said. 'Especially one as pretty as Gwendolen here.' 'Of course I do,' I expostulated. 'But not while I'm eating roast beef and three vegetables. And trying to carry on a normal conversation.' 'Think of poor Gwendolen,' answered Becky. 'At least you got something to eat. She must be positively starved.' 'I did in fact have a little to eat,' said Gwendolen.
She licked her lips. 'And very satisfying it was.' She grasped my prick firmly in her hand. 'But I confess I am still a little hungry.'
'Very nicely said,' replied Becky. 'But we have saved some food for you. Andrew is not the only one who must keep his strength up!
She rang and Emily the maid came in. 'Emily, can you fetch something for my cousin to eat,' she said. Emily bobbed a curtsy but then clapped her hand to her mouth. She went very pink and I realised that my member was still exposed. 'I'm sorry,' I said.
'I had quite forgotten…' 'Which, I suspect, is more than Emily has,' said Becky. 'We all here have the clearest, fondest memories of him. But for the moment, I suggest you put him away or you might catch a cold.' 'Here, let me,' said Hannah, as I began to fumble with my fly. 'You're all fingers and thumbs.' 'I am a little flustered, I must confess,' I said with relief as she busied herself.
Soon all was proper again and as Gwendolen ate, the others explained in greater detail all the connections between them. Rosie could remember her very well at school although Gwendolen had been as she explained, 'One of the big girls.' 'How I envied you,' she said.
'You and Cecily… Cecily…' 'Cardew,' said Gwendolen. 'My dearest friend in the whole school.' 'All the younger girls had such a crush on the two of you. We used to loiter, quite against school rules, in the corridors, hoping that you would notice us.' 'You were noticed, Rosie,' said Gwendolen. 'And I am very, very happy to see you again. But I understand that you have recently left Miss Bradshaw's under something of a cloud, and rumour has it that there was an incident involving the Art Master.' So the whole story of Rosie's sudden departure came out. When she got to the point where she was revealing her new interest in photography, I saw Becky and Hannah exchange meaningful glances. By now I knew them well enough to realise that an idea had crossed both their minds and that they would soon be hatching another of their plots. 'A group photograph,' said Becky after a moment's thought. 'Since you have a whole trunk full of photographic equipment up in your room, we must get everything cleared away just as soon as Gwendolen has finished eating.' 'What about the exposure,* I chipped in, rather cleverly I considered. 'Your jokes get worse and worse,' said Hannah. 'But you do have a point. Rosie have you the technical knowledge to do justice to your subject? We want two group studies. One with and one without.' 'One with and one without what?' I asked. 'With clothes and without clothes.' she answered. 'One that can be openly displayed and sent round to all our relatives. And one that will be kept private, restricted only to those of us here. And maybe sent privately to one or two carefully picked friends.' 'I have a better idea,' said Becky. 'It will take some time for Rosie to set up her equipment. I shall send an urgent message by cab to Catherine, asking her to come round immediately if she can. She might even be able to find the Scottish contingent.' 'Ian and Donald,' I said.
'It would be splendid if they could join in the fun. And I had the most warm, loving note from Kate on my return this afternoon.' So it was decided. A note was written and despatched. Rosie summoned me to help her unpack. Gwendolen volunteered to come with us. She squeezed my arm affectionately as we went upstairs. 'I hope you are not angry with me,' she said. 'I hope that when the photography is finished we can get down to the serious business of fucking. I have seen enough of you to know that I should like that very much.'
How could I refuse such an enticing offer? I hugged her to me.
'I'd like that very much as well,' I answered. Rosie, who was a step or two ahead of us, turned. 'What about me?' she said sweetly.
'Can I join in?' 'Of course, Rosie dear,' said Gwendolen. 'This will be quite an old school reunion.' That first photographic adventure was unlike anything that I had previously experienced. I had before been into a studio on two or three occasions. Formal portraits of my family had been taken. I had featured, two or three rows back, in a school photograph. I was accustomed to the slow deliberate proceedings as the photographer ordered his subjects, arranged his backgrounds, then buried his head under a black cloth. I knew how to pose motionless, staring at the camera. But to sit or stand, leaning on a classically styled pillar was one thing. To hold oneself immobile with one's virile member poking unmoving at the tender entrance to a generously spread cunney is a different matter. Rosie was a paragon of brisk efficiency. As we helped her place the camera on its tripod, as she squinted though the viewing window, ordering us to close up or rearrange our groupings, she gave us a short explanation of the technicalities and the history of the craft. We started with one or two more ordinary exposures, fully clothed. Catherine and the Fergusons brothers had not yet arrived although we had received a message that all three would present later on. Meanwhile Rosie was getting a little bored with the unrelieved decency of the proceedings.