The whole affair was very well managed, I gathered from Mabel's narrative. The boy who proposed the bet was rich, and he presented the performers with a supper amply calculated to in every way feed their lust. Likewise a sideboard groaned with good things to eat and drink to sustain the men and the greatly daring girl during the night.
The first supper was decorous enough, for Mabel refused any early advances on the part of the men. A few bawdy toasts were drank, and Mabel was made to swear a solemn oath that she would not lie about coming. Supper over, the devoted girl retired to her room, which led out of the dining room, and returned stark naked. And a pretty sight she must have been, exciting indeed to the eyes of those randy young men. I have often seen her naked in the dressing room, for she was one of those girls who have no scruples about exposing herself naked to the gaze of others of the same sex, and I always admired her.
The men drew lots for order of performing, the proposer of the bet, however, reserving to himself the third turn, which he reckoned would be the best. That settled, Mabel let the way in to the bedroom, arranged herself on the luxurious bed, and called to the first man to come on and do his damndest. He stripped, a muscular young giant of nineteen, blushing a little at the unaccustomed publicity of his act, and was into her without further ado. He had given but three or four vigorous thrusts when the dear girl cried out that she had come and forced him to get off her. There was no doubt about the coming; the hero of the wager introduced his finger into the well greased aperture, and abundantly satisfied himself. Then arose a difficulty. Mabel asserted that the act of her coming constituted the completion of the fuck, but the only half satisfied young man naturally asserted that he had an equal right to finish his share of the business. After some argument the poor girl had to agree that he had, and, though she offered to suck him instead, he remounted, and finished, making her come once more before it was done.
The assembly filed out into the next room, leaving Mabel alone. She was to ring a handbell when next prepared.
Of course Maud, her patch of gold beater's skin concealing the mole, was produced out of a cupboard, whence she had viewed the proceedings and gathered all the conversation, so that she should not be found forgetful of any subject that might have been broached. The men were not a little astonished to hear the bell go almost immediately after their departure, and then were still more astonished to witness the vigorous lust that the pseudo-Mabel displayed.
It was only a question of a few frantic strokes and the second hero and Maud united their spending and obviously completed the fuck.
She went back into the dining room with them to take a little refreshment. “Maud,” so Mabel told me, “was ever the drinking one of the two.” She then retired, and in five more minutes the bell rang for the third man who quite unexpecting so speedy a gratification of his lusts had not begun to undress.
And so the game went on, first Mabel and then Maud rising to the occasion, till all the men had had their first go within less than two hours from the start.
After that Mabel-she did practically all the talking-bargained for a couple of hours sleep, which was granted her. At the end of the two hours, she was awakened- Maud, poor thing, had had to put up with the narrow limits of an armchair in the cupboard all that time, and the contest began anew. The girls worked so well that there were but two fucks to be completed when there still remained two hours of the allotted time to run. At that juncture Maud nearly failed. Instead of profiting by the time limit to have a good rest, she pronounced herself ready directly after Mabel had taken the twenty-eighth cock.
When her young man had finished, and he was not unreasonably quick about it, he asked her if she had complied with the regulations. She, being a straight-forward girl, was bound to reply that she had not. The question then arose whether the man who just finished, being incapable of immediate continuance, another might take his place. Maud protested that she could do it, if only the man was not in such a hurry. Eventually it took four of them, one after the other, each working their hardest, while Maud herself made herself naughty by imagining the depraved things, before the blessed dew anointed the lips of her cunt.
It was perhaps bad policy, but Mabel could not resist the opportunity for working a considerable surprise. Almost directly after the fatigued Maud had washed herself and retired into the cupboard, she walked out into the sitting room, quaffed a glass of champagne, and announced herself ready for the last man. He mounted her there and then in the room and they came together in about two minutes.
Then the check was handed over, and so ended a surprising evening.
When we arrived at Oxford I was undecided where to stay; being quite in ignorance of theatrical tours and living arrangements, I had intended to go to a hotel. Certainly my salary was only thirty-five shillings a week, but I had a little spare cash. The genial sisters Knock, however, quickly disabused me of that. “Come and stop with us, old dear,” they said, “don't go putting up at hotels and making folks think you're a tart before they can prove it.”-and I went.
The rooms were rather a shock. Small and meanly furnished-the mural decorations consisted of a religious tract and lithographs, and the landlady was as dirty as she was familiar. But the sisters seemed to think they were in clover. “Old Ma Osborne's a bit of all right,” explained one of the, “doesn't mind who we have in, or what we do, and that's saying something in a place like Oxford.”
When the question of dinner was mooted, old Ma Osborne grinned, “Well me dears,” she said, “I haven't worried about getting you any dinners, because knowing you like and your habits, I've took the liberty of telling Lord Hingley of the house, which is Christ Church College; me dear, that he might be at liberty to call. And Lord Hingley, me dears, will see as how you have a better dinner than I might be able to offer to you her.”
I was inclined to be annoyed, but held my peace.
Maud Knock (the one with the mole) became business-like at once.
“Many thanks, I'm sure Mrs. Osborne,” she said, “but who is Lord Hingley, he's not on my visiting list?”
“Is he all right?” chipped in the moleless sister, “none of your courtesy title paupers, eh, what?”
“All right; that I would say he is. Ten thousand a year he has, as I should know, dearies, my husband being his scout for night on two years in college, and as generous a gentleman as ever was.”
The sisters Knock nodded assent, and Ma Osborne retired beaming.
The highly recommended Lord Hingley presently made his appearance accompanied by his friend, Mrs. Charles Latimer; apparently they had only reckoned on two, and I saw breakers ahead, for, without conceit, I knew well enough that neither of the sisters could hold a candle to me in looks, or in any sort of attraction.
We were conveyed in cabs to Mr. Latimer's room. Mr. Latimer was a rich young gentleman, son of the famous brewer of that name, and he occupied the most elegant apartments. He was plain but well groomed, and very well dressed. Despite his origin he was a gentleman. Lord Hingley was nice looking, if rather stupid, and obviously rather too fond of drink. They were both scrupulously polite to us girls. We had a most admirable dinner, cooked and served in a style which would not have disgraced a smart west end restaurant, and we all of us drank rather too much champagne, to say nothing of subsequent liquors.
Still nothing happened, and the men made no attempt at love-making. The sisters obliged at the piano, so did I, and after I had done so, Lard Hingley contrived to get me alone in a corner.
“I say,” he stammered, “you're a lady, aren't you?”
“I'm certainly not a man.”
“But, don't joke; you aren't like the others how did you come to be living with Maud and Mabel?”