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Martine |
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I opened the door, and there was Angela, in the
same revealing dress, although not as revealing as it was going to be once it
was off. Well, then it wouldn't be the dress that was revealing; it would be
what was revealed that would be revealing, if what is revealed can be said to
be revealing. I was so tied up in knots that Angela just walked past me into
the room.
"Archie, darling, here I am".
Well, I could see
that, of course. I mean to say, she was there. Standing right before me. Well,
ultimately she stood before me. Before, she had been standing behind me, whilst
I was looking up and down the passage outside my room to see if anybody had
seen her arrive.
"Are you nervous, my sweet ? Can I soothe you ?" she
said, stroking my arm. "Let's go into the bedroom. I've rather gotten to like
this sex business, you know, Archie. I know you will, too. Come on", and she
took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom.
In there, she turned
her back to me and said, "Unhook me, darling".
Now, I'd never unhooked
a woman's dress before, and didn't know quite what to do, but I poked around,
all fingers and thumbs, and eventually lifted a flap of some description which
revealed a series of hooks and eyes all the way down from the top to below her
waist, and I started to do the unhooking. After fumbling my way through this
process, it was finally unhooked, and she shrugged it off her shoulders and
onto the floor. She stepped out of it and turned back to face me, showing me
that she was now wearing a sort of a bustling arrangement covering her from
her, er, bosom to her knees.
"This I can take off myself", she said,
and proceeded to take it off. At last, she stood there in just her brassiere,
if brassiere's the word I want, and her bloomers.
"Well, you're not
going to leave it all to me, are you ?", she said. "Look at you in your collar
and tie. Come on. Get undressed".
Now, you may believe me or you may
believe me not, entirely at your own discretion, but it hadn't actually
occurred to me that I'd have to do this. Take my clothes off, I mean. Of
course, if I'd thought the thing through in all its ramifications, it would
have been obvious. I mean to say, you don't do this sex business arrayed in all
your finery. Of course clothes had to come off, but I hadn't thought about
it.
"Well", I said. "If you'd turn around or something …"
"Turn around ? Don't be an ass, Archie. I'm standing here in my underwear.
I didn't ask you to turn around, did I ? Come on, out of those clothes. Shall I
help you ?"
"Oh, no", I gasped. "No, no, rather not. I think I can
manage", and I started to take my jacket off. After that, my collar and tie,
and then I just sort of stood there. I mean, anything else coming off seemed a
little inappropriate, until I looked and saw that Angela had taken off her
brassiere and that I was now looking at her bare bosom. Well this bosom word is
all very well, but all of the fellows at the club always call them titties, so
I suppose that's what I'll call Angela's. Angela's titties. Rather amusing,
what ?
Up to that point, I hadn't been reacting to the situation at
all, but now I could feel that my gentleman was starting to make his presence
felt, and I stripped off my shirt in no time at all. Then my shoes and socks
were off and my trousers were on the floor, leaving me in my underwear.
"Ooh, Archie, look at you. I can see from here that your little friend is
a lot bigger than he was in the hay loft", and she came to me and lifted my
vest off over my head. "What a fit young man you are darling", she said,
putting both her arms around me and rubbing herself all over me, and then she
grabbed the waistband of my drawers and pulled them down. Well, my gentleman
had had enough time, what with her rubbing her bare titties all over me, to get
himself together, and he was standing up proud.
"Ooh, what a beauty",
said Angela, taking him into her hand. "I do like men's private parts. Not so
private now, eh, Archie. Ooh, he is a beauty. You're very well built. Come on,
let's sit you down", and she led me, holding my gentleman as though she were
holding my hand, to an armchair in the corner. Terribly experienced Angela had
become since I last saw her. I mean in those days, she was a very demure little
thing.
Having led me to the armchair, she pushed me down so that I
sat naked with my gentleman … well, here we are again with this
nomenclature, if nomenclature's the word I want. At the club, it's called a
wille, or one's old fellow, and so it will be here. So, I sat there with my
willie, or my old fellow, lying stiffly up my stomach.
Angela knelt in
front of me and actually took my willie into her mouth. Now, I'd never had this
before. In fact, my past fumblings seemed now to be rather juvenile. I'd never
seen a girl's titties in the flesh before. I mean, I'd felt them, of course,
but I'd never seen them in broad daylight, well, not daylight, of course,
because it was gone midnight, after all, but in the light is what I mean. And
Angela had also taken her bloomers off, and I'd seen her down there as well,
another first for little Archie, well not so little, at least not in the nether
regions, as Angela had said, and was saying once again : "What a big boy you
are, Archie. Bigger than I've seen before. What shall we do ? Shall we get into
bed ?"
Well, I was rather enjoying this, and I wasn't in a hurry to
have it all covered up by sheets and blankets and eiderdowns and what not, so I
said "No, rather not, old girl, I'm rather liking this, don't you know. Let's
just carry on, shall we ?"
"Oh, all right. I can keep this up forever.
But, what I mean is, how do you want to have your, you know, what do you call
it, your climax, your eruption ? Do you want to have it here, like this ? Don't
you want to put it inside me ?"
I hadn't really thought of that at
all, hadn't considered it for a second, and I must admit that I didn't much
like the idea. Always a bit messy, I'd always found it. Well, 'always' seems
rather an exaggeration, but I'd rather liked the hand method I'd had from
little Gertie in the garage, and which Angela was continuing to give me now,
and I was rather aware of the quaking feeling around the jolly old derriere and
just up underneath, towards the old scrotum, or balls, as we say in the club,
don't you know, which usually meant that I was about to offload the good old
white stuff, and I told her so.
"Oh, goodie", she said, slowing down a
little. "I do like that part. How would you like to do it, darling ? In my
mouth ? Over my titties ? Or shall we just let it go where it will. I'm sure
the chambermaids here are used to seeing all sorts of stuff in all sorts of
places, so we won't worry about that. Tell me, sweetie, and your wish will be
my command".
Well, I hadn't a chance to answer, because the stuff was
shooting out before you could say knife. It had been a little while since I had
had a fiddle in the bathroom at home, so I suppose what you'd call my inventory
was what you'd call rather overflowing, and overflow it did, all over the bally
place. Up my chest, over Angela's titties, a spot on her face, all over the
bally armchair. Well, Angela was squealing, I was groaning rather, and it was
all jolly good fun. I felt quite replete, and repleter, if repleter's the word
I want, than when I did a self service in the old bathroom at home. Quite a
delight.
Angela was now wiping her hands and her body, and my body,
not to mention the armchair, on a towel that she'd fetched from the bathroom,
and she sat on the arm of the chair in which I sat, with one foot on the carpet
and the other wedged under my thigh, giving me a proper 'Ascot with field
glasses' view of her own delights.
"Touch me, Archie".
I put
my hand on her thigh.
"No, idiot, touch me here", and she took my hand
and put it onto her rather bushy 'down there' hair. Well, here we are with our
nomenclature again. The boys at the club don't have a name for this, because
it's almost never mentioned. 'Down there' is rather public school, don't you
know, but it's hardly ever mentioned at the club; we just don't have a name for
it. Respect for the fairer sex, I suppose. I mean to say, gentlemen don't go
blabbing about a girl's private bits all over the place, but there was one
fellow at the club, name of Buffy Quillthorn, and he was supposed to be the
expert on sex and all that. Now Buffy used to refer to it as the quim, and I've
always thought that that was quite an inoffensive word. Never used it myself,
of course. Would have shocked the fellows, no doubt. But, for the purposes of
this journal, I'll call it the quim. Well now, Angela's titties and Angela's
quim. I'm becoming quite debauched, don't you know.
With my hand on
Angela's quim, I could feel that it was extremely wet. Almost as much wetness
as I'd created a few moments ago.
"Put your fingers up inside me,
Archie. That's it. Move them up and down. Ooh, that's it, that's it. Ooh, no,
wait, stand up. Let me sit there, and you can get between my legs and do it
properly".
I stood and she sat, and I knelt between her legs, both of
which she had thrown over both arms of the chair, like some sort of female
fakir, giving me a close up of her gaping quim.
"Put your fingers in
again, darling, and use your other hand to rub that little button at the top.
Do you see it ? That's it. Ooh, Archie, I think you've done this before".
"Oh, no, rather not, old thing. Never been near a … what do you call
it, Angela ? They call it your quim at the club. Well, one of the fellows does.
The others don't talk about it at all. I mean to say, not very …
…".
"Oh, do shut up, Archie and just do what you're doing. Ooh,
that's it. Keep on doing that. Ooh, Aah. It's coming, Bertie, it's coming", and
her head was thrown back.
Well, now, I was all ready to put a cushion
up between me and Angela's quim, which, if it was going to start to shoot
anything out, was going to shoot whatever it might be right between my eyes. I
mean, I was right in the firing line, don't you know. But I'm a novice in these
things, and nothing shot out at all, although there was some sort of fluid, or
juice, dribbling from her quim down between the division of her derriere.
"Ah, Archie, that was marvelous. We call it our fanny, by the way. And
look at your willie, Archie" - which just goes to show that whilst women know
men's terms, men don't know women's - "he's coming up again".
I looked
down and, sure enough the old fellow was starting to show some signs of
interest, bobbing up, don't you know. Now, it's often said at the club that
once you've done it once, well, that's it until the next occasion, which
probably wouldn't arise for a goodish time. Some of the fellows there would
complain that their wives had become more demanding since this women's rights
and suffragette nonsense had gained pace. Others that once was enough until the
next wedding anniversary, or birthday, or whatever the occasion might have
been, so what my old fellow thought he was getting up to now, well, don't ask
Archie, that's all I can say, but Angela was all over it.
"Ooh, look
at him, Archie. He's ready for more. I would like to have you up inside me, you
know., I mean your fingers were lovely, but I'd like to feel your big hard
willie up inside me. Come on, let's get onto the bed", and she stood up and
walked to the four poster, lying down with her head on the pillows. "Come on,
darling. Let me feel you".
I also arose and walked over to the bed,
with my old fellow preceding me. At the bed, Angela opened her legs wide and
held out her arms to me. I climbed onto the bed and knelt between her legs.
"Ooh, come on, darling, lie down on top of me".
I did as ordered,
and she wrapped her legs around my back, put one hand between our bodies and
took hold of my old fellow and manipulated it until it was positioned at the
opening of her quim.
"Push him in, Archie. That's it. Ooh, you're a
big boy. Now don't go bang too soon. I want to have mine as well".
We
continued the push and pull routine for a little while, and then Angela started
to moan and groan, and thrash her head about from side to side, and I assumed
that this was her, what did she call it ? Climax ? Or perhaps that was just
men. Anyway, enough of this. She was clearly having her climax, or female
equivalent of such.
"Ooh, that was lovely, Archie. Did you go bang,
or not yet ?"
"No, not yet, but I'd rather like to, what".
"Oh, just carry on then. It's rather nice to feel you moving up and down inside
me. Just carry on, darling".
"Well, I rather like the hand business,
you know. I find that rather jolly, don't you know ? Would you mind ?"
"Not at all, darling. Climb off me and kneel between my legs again. That's it.
Ooh, he is a big, hard, stiff fellow, isn't he ?" And he was. Pointing up at
the ceiling, don't you know.
She now sat up in front of me and took my
old fellow, in her hand. After rubbing it up and down a few times, she leant
forward and put it into her mouth. I must say I did rather like this. Jolly
warm and very smooth.
Then she took it out of her mouth and said,
"When you want to explode, darling, just say so, because I want to have it all
over my titties this time", and she put it back into her mouth again. With her
head bobbing up and down, and my hips thrusting back and forth, in perfect
accord, it wasn't long before I felt the jolly old quaking feeling again, and I
told her so.
"Oh, goody", said she, taking her mouth from it, and
continued with the hand work. Before too long, I was bursting again, and this
time it did go all over her titties, apart from a spot or two that went
astray.
After finishing me off, I laid down beside her and started to
feel her titties, all covered with my cream, and we kissed and touched each
other in all sorts of places, and I was starting to think that this sex
business was rather jolly, and that I'd like to have some more of it. Not at
that moment, of course. I mean to say, I was rather weary.
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