The Secret Chronicles of Henry Dashwood, Vol. 2

'Now, despite letting you fuck me tonight, and being ready to admit to being generous with my favours, not even those girls who dislike me can truly call me a wanton. It took six weeks of constant attention – dinner parties, visits to the theatre, opera and ballet, days at Henley and Royal Ascot – before finally I surrendered to Neville's entreaties and agreed to stay the night with him in his luxurious London pied a terre in a mews off the Edgware Road near Marble Arch. '“George, my valet, is very discreet,” he assured me as he ushered me through his front door. “He has this wonderful knack of performing all his tasks whilst keeping out of sight. Now why don't you go through to the bedroom, my dear, whilst I lock up.” 'It was some time before he joined me there but I simply assumed he had paid a visit to the bathroom. I wanted to slip between the covers but Neville said: “No, darling, it's a warm night, let's make love on the quilt.” 'So we began kissing and I will readily confess that the way Neville petted me really excited me. He began by touching the edges of my breasts and tracing a big circle around each bosom.

Gradually, he decreased the size of each circle, getting closer and closer to the areoles until finally he reached my erect nipples.

'By now I was so excited that I could feel my pussey moisten and I twisted and turned as he tweaked my titties between his long, tapering fingers. Oh, the feeling was so delicious that I could hardly wait for him to diddle my cunney with his fingers as I reached down and circled my fingers around his swollen cock. '“Suck me, darling,” he breathed. I had no qualms about pleasing him in this fashion, and I swivelled round so that my head was lying on Neville's thigh and my legs were facing the headboard, giving him the opportunity to play with my pussey whilst I leaned over and kissed the fiery uncapped knob of his stiff, twitching prick. 'I had just begun to lick his helmet when I heard a noise outside the door.

“What's that, Neville? It sounded like an intruder.” I gasped.

'“It's nothing, darling, it's just old George pottering around,” he said soothingly. I believed him and so jammed down his foreskin and sucked his shaft into my mouth whilst I toyed with his hairy ballsack.

Henry, I have no wish to boast, but false modesty is as unbecoming as overweening pride so I shall tell you that all my male friends consider me to be an excellent cocksucker and Neville cooed with delight whilst I sucked his thick tadger, sliding my lips up and down his rigid rod. 'Meanwhile, he was sliding his forefinger in and out of my juicy cunt and I was already spending when again I heard sounds from outside. I opened my eyes to discover that Neville and I were not alone! And it was not George, the faithful valet who was responsible for interrupting us but two of Neville's friends from Hurlingham Tennis Club, Desmond Kendall and Gareth Williamson. They were standing in the doorway watching me suck Neville's cock! 'In a flash it came to me that Neville had deliberately left the door on the latch and that the noise I had heard earlier was of these two young men entering the apartment. Both of them had ripped down their trousers and were frigging their big cocks, a sight which both annoyed and yet excited me. I also felt angry, but this was directed not against them but at Neville and it struck me that the best way to pay him back was to give him a taste of his own medicine and let him take the role of a mere spectator whilst I pleasured myself with the two fine-looking penises of Desmond and Gareth. '“Come over here and strip off, you two, don't be shy,” I called out and, nothing loath, the athletic lads tore off their clothes and joined us on the bed.