The Secret Chronicles of Henry Dashwood, Vol. 2

Clearly, Rosamund had never been fucked by an undergraduate of the Jewish or Islamic persuasions.' 'Was she concerned about your lack of a foreskin?' I enquired. 'No, far from it. To be honest, Rosamund was rather taken with my cock and she dipped her head down to kiss my knob which was already quivering in anticipation of joys to come,' he replied. The way in which his lips widened into a smile at the sweet memory of the moment led me to remark that although Rosamund had never viewed a circumcised cock before, I was sure that she had taken several shafts in her cunney and doubtless other orifices too! He grinned and said: 'Oh yes, I could tell Rosamund was highly experienced from the wonderful sucking off to which she treated me. She started by licking and lapping around my shaft and worked her tongue down to my balls. Then she moved her head upwards to my helmet, slowly tracing hot, wet kisses which soon brought me to the very edge of a spend. Her magic tongue swished around my knob, savouring its spongy texture and her teeth scraped my skin so deliciously as she drew my cock in between her luscious lips, sucking from top to base and back again. 'Every time Rosamund sensed I was on the verge of spunking she would deliberately let up, intentionally prolonging our mutual enjoyment, until I could take no more teasing and I pulled her over me. My throbbing tool pushed against her hairy muff as she straddled me and I took her pert breasts in my hands and kissed her erect, rubbery titties. Then she lifted herself slightly over my straining cock and let out a sigh of satisfaction as her slippery pussey lips stretched over my shaft when she pushed herself down over my groin. She threw back her head and sighed with joy as she rocked up and down on my prick, and I must say that Rosamund rode me magnificently, keeping up the pace until she cried out with the force of her climax. Seconds after, I jerked my hips upwards and filled her cunney to overflowing with my thick spurts of jism. Then after we had rested, she kissed my cock-' 'That's enough, we all have the picture,' said Charlie a little acidly. 'But where does this girl fit into your plan to see off Maurice FitzAllen?'

'Ah, I'm just coming to that,' answered Joshua Charles, 'didn't I see your name on the paper the Camera Club put up on the Common Room wall for people to sign if they want to attend their meeting next Wednesday evening?' 'You mean for the lecture by Richard Hawton, the famous cinematographer?' he answered. 'Yes, I wouldn't want to miss that, especially as Mr. Hawton is going to show us his exciting new film on the Sussex Downs.' Paul nodded with satisfaction and continued: 'I'll see you there, Charles, and I agree with you that Richard Hawton is one of the most talented film-makers in the country.

Now I'll wager that you yourself possess some skill as a photographer?' 'Well, I can do more than take a snapshot with a Brownie, though I'm hardly in Richard Hawton's league,' said Charles modestly. 'But why do you ask?' 'For the very simple reason that Rosamund is an exhibitionist,' explained Joshua, grinning from ear to ear. 'We were talking about our likes and dislikes after our fuck, and when I mentioned how keen I was on photography, Rosamund said that she would love to have her photograph taken for one of the rude magazines she finds hidden in many of the students' bedrooms. '“I'm proud of my body and I enjoy flaunting it,” Rosamund said to me. “So I would be happy for you if you wanted to send my picture to The Cremorne. And it's not just for the five pounds fee that I'd get for it, either.

Between you and me, the thought of lots of young fellows wanking over my pictures makes me really excited.'” Before he could continue, I burst out laughing for by this time, I had guessed what was going through Joshua's mind and I chuckled: 'Carry on. I'll volunteer to develop the prints. “Thanks, Henry,' he replied gratefully. 'I'll take up your kind offer if we can persuade Rosamund to co-operate and get the scheme off the ground.' Charlie scratched his head and said: 'Joshua, I'm sorry if I appear dense, but I'm still not clear exactly what you have in mind.' 'Well, very simply we're going to inveigle Mr. FitzAllen into having his photograph taken without his knowledge,' explained Paul. 'And the snapshots won't be of the kind he would want to send home to his parents for they will show him in flagrante delicto with the lovely Rosamund – and the kind of photograph I have in mind won't show him as a rampaging stud. One doesn't always look one's best during rumpy-pumpy. As the old song goes:

Fucking is a silly thing, It makes a man a fool, It takes away his appetite And wears away his tool!'

'We had better not go too far, as if by chance they fall into the wrong hands, we don't want to get the poor fellow rusticated,'