When once we got to business I was randy enough. There was no sofa, and the floor looked rather dirty, so he had me straddle-wise across his knees, forcing me down on to him till I had his penis within me right up to its hairy hilt. He grabbed me frightfully tight to him and fucked me quite brutally, but there was something in his savagery which delighted me. When it was over he drained a tremendously stiff whiskey and soda and then sat back in the only big chair in the room. “Well, you'd better be back to your room,” he said after a minute, “the girl's will be suspicious.”
“I thought as much,” I answered rather angrily, “you've had all you want from me, and want to get rid of me.”
He became quite tender on the instant, and assured me that he meant nothing of the kind, only was nervous lest I should be suspected of over familiarity with him. In fact he became so tenderly solicitous that he took me in his arms and kissed me-became naughty again, and the dirty beast fucked me again.
Nothing much of great interest happened during our three day's stay at Oxford-we were only allowed half a week by the University authorities, in accordance with the wise regulation that more than three days of the society of any particular set of musical comedy sirens is bad for the peace of mind of the undergraduates. I went out to all meals, some with my lordling, and some with the friends of Miss Sarel, the leading lady, who had graciously deigned to take me up. She was a bright, pretty little thing, quite passably clever, of a naughty temperament, and very much on the make as the theatrical saying goes; she came out of Oxford with one or two valuable presents in the jewelry line.
I was always stared at in the street, but the stare was not the sensual glance of the man about town who feels his cock raised at the appearance of an attractive female, but the simple admiration of a healthy young mind. Not that everything of a sensual nature was absent from our little stay, to say nothing of that already recounted scene in Restall's dressing room, for I experienced the beginning of a love affair. One night the Sisters Knock brought home the tenor of the company to supper. Jean Messel was a strikingly handsome man, about thirty-five or so, I supposed, whose dark features betrayed a foreign origin. He had often eyed me at the theatre, but we had never spoken till this party. On this occasion, however, he found courage to press my hand, and, later, to snatch a kiss. That kiss set me on fire. I had known well enough before, the delights of a sensual feeling, but never a sensual feeling coupled with love. I dreamed of him all night, and the next morning when we met at the station, and exchanged some common-place greeting, I experienced the sensation known as blushing all over, and was almost too timid to speak I did not continue in lodgings with Sisters Knock. Some little unpleasantness over my intimacy with the young Lord had arisen, to say nothing of my obvious attraction for Jean Messel; so at our next stop, which was Manchester, I chummed with a Miss Letty Ross, who played the third principal part. Miss Ross had many acquaintances among the wealthy manufacturers of the north, fat, jolly, middle-aged men, with any amount of money, which they enjoyed spending, and a great deal of which found its way into the pockets of the pretty little tarts of the various wandering companies. They wanted very little for their money, and I was glad of it, for my passion for the tenor produced a longing in my heart to remain quite chaste. Still one cannot exactly accept a diamond bangle for nothing, and more than once little Blanche suffered herself to be extended on the sofa of a hotel private room, and her dainty clothes elevated till the exposure of her naked charms caused some great Lancashire cock to crow lustily with anticipation. How hard they fucked, those north country merchants, and what quantities of sperm they spent, but they enlarged hearts. At that time I grew very ^pent quantities of money, too, bless their frightened of getting in the family way; those lusty devils were just the sort of men to get me caught, and I could not help a reciprocal spend when they came. However, Letty gave me some pills to take before my courses became due, and I escaped.
At Edinburgh, we boldly went to one of the best hotels, trusting to our fortune to find a mug to settle our bills, and sure enough we did find one, in the guise of a well known whiskey distiller. He was staying in the same hotel and took on- the two of us, first Letty and then myself. I was not jealous, for it gave me a rest, and I was really sweet to him on my nights. He swore his cock had never, never felt such pleasure. He was nearly sixty, but he had never been sucked off, so I cleaned his cock up one night, and taught him that. He nearly went off his head with joy.
On the Saturday night after an uncommonly good supper, and too many liquors, the old man falteringly asked if we two would mind his coming to bed with both of us. He had done so well during the week that we had not the heart to say no. We arranged for him to come to our bedroom in half an hour, when we should be undressed, but our door was barely closed behind us when in he slipped blushing like a school boy detected in a fault, and begging that he might be allowed to undress us himself.
He went for me first; I was wearing a three quarter length frock that night, and the dear old gentleman got excited over it. I didn't raise a hand to help him myself, and he stripped me right to the buff. After he got out of my bodice, and the skirt, his frenzied cock was nearly bursting his trousers, and when he had got me down to my drawers and vest, the poor panting things had to be released. I gave it just one pat with my hand and the spend flew all over me, covering my body right up to my neck, some of it even struck me in the face. He was disconsolate, and Letty was angry, said it was unfair to start so soon. But Blanche was equal to the occasion. I sponged my face clean, did the same to his cock, told Letty to tongue his mouth, and we very soon had him stiff. Then he finished my undressing, till I sat in all my naked beauty on the bed before him. He was so randy again that he would have liked to fuck me again, then and there, but Letty naturally interfered. There was such a beautiful fire in the room that we both lay naked on the bed while our old friend tore off his clothes as if he was undressing for a swimming race against time. Funnily enough though I often slept with Letty, not till that moment had I the least physical desire for her, but the filthiness of the whole scene overpowered me. I rolled over on the top of her, feverishly fingered her pretty body and covered her lips with hot kisses which she returned in no half hearted spirit. In a trice I had a finger up her cunt, so that ingress was barred to the old man. Next moment, however he was up me from behind, his arms gripping both our bodies, and he came in me while my lips were glued to Letty's and all my lust was for her. Still he must have had a good fuck, for I was wriggling my stomach against hers like a fury. Even when he had finished I was filthily randy that I drew my finger, all covered with spend from Letty's cunt and made him lick it clean, an innovation in sin which he thoroughly enjoyed.
Subsequently he fucked Letty and myself once more and that finished him. He shambled back to his bedroom, while Letty and I, after a hot bath together had one delicious bout of mutual cunt sucking, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.
Next morning when the bill was presented, our old friend had something of a shock, but he could not, after the events of the previous night, make any complaint.
I fancy the one hundred and two whiskies and sodas worried him. Of course, we didn't give it away that we had had all our friends in during the day time, while he was at his business, and he thoroughly believed we had slipped all that intolerable deal of liquor down our own fairy throats. He paid us the compliment of remarking that there wasn't a bonnie lassie from Maidenkirk to John of Groats could have done the like.
All this time I barely had an opportunity of seeing my dark-eyed Jean Messel. His wife, who figured in the bills as Miss Henden, became suspicious and never let him out of her sight. She wasn't a bad little woman, and on the stage she looked very nice, but what a fake. To begin with, she wore lifters to give her an added inch in height. Then she wore low cut shoes displaying a nice curved pad where her instep should have been. When she went on the stage her legs were entirely encased in shapes, and even in ordinary walking dress, she sported hip pads. Her bust, well, one night I got wet coming to the theatre and wanted a change of stockings, every available stocking had that woman stuffed into her bodice. She even padded her arms, for she wore tightly fitting, transparent sleeves, and the flesh colored pads, that showed through, had the appearance of the most fascinating rounded arms. Her neck and shoulders she enameled. She wore yards of false hair, and what she had of her own was dyed. Her teeth, I need scarcely add, were removable at desire. Some of the girls used to question whether she had a false cunt or not.