Memoirs of a Gentleman

She gave a gasp. "Fucking hell – oops, sorry – Can I see it?"

I must have looked surprised at her outburst, and she half chided half coaxed me, "Come on. I bet you've done it with plenty of girls - Not just shown 'em either. I bet you done it properly. Put it inside 'em?" She ended the remark in a question, and waited.

"Well, I openly admit to frequently indulging in that pastime, young Alice, though of late, opportunities have been less plentiful than my natural desires demand. Add to that, the difficulty of my coupling fully with some fillies, due to my penile proportions, and life in that direction could bear improvement."

It seemed prudent to not unduly alarm my intended quarry, so I hastened to assure her – " I feel I can discourse with you freely on the matter, as your background has bestowed wisdom beyond your years. The analogy is somewhat a misnomer, and once its ingress has been experienced by braver beavers, none have sought other than repeat performances."

Her next remark astounded me. "Show me? Hell, I bet with one that big you must come lots of stuff each time you shoot off?"

Now I have ne're been given to bashfulness, but my countenance must have registered a mite of surprise, and forthwith set her to cajoling me by spouting: "Oh come on, Rolli. I live in an 'Overnight.' I've seen all sorts since I was a little kid. I've seen lots of men's Dicks."

Exhuming nonchalance, yet eager to have her arm extremities enfolding my rampant lure, I counselled the wench, "If it pleasures you to do so, I am far from averse to your examining my manhood through my breeches." Turning, I made my thighs available, to her attentions"

She moved to take a goodly feel for herself, and carried on. "Bet I can REALLY surprise you? Just because I'm a virgin don't mean I ain't done a few other things." She waited expectantly, before adding, "Bet you don't know what?"

"Pray what thoughts are occupying that fine head, my sweet Alice?" I ventured.

"Wait a minute," She started getting out my appendage and exclaimed, "Jesus fuck, that's as big as Elsie's big rubber one."

I hurriedly freed my rigid snake, forcing him back out of sight. Her hungry hands, and plunging head - mouth fully agape - left me in no doubts as to her immediate intentions. However, we were sat in the well-illuminated main thoroughfare, in full view of passers by. Modesty had never been one of my fortes, but I had no wish for a passing prude to call the local Constabulary.

Eager as I was to find myself at least partly inside those roseate, puffed and glistening lips, (she would have been hard-pressed to take but the first few inches), I had no desire to be charged with corrupting a Minor.

I reluctantly admonished her, "Much as we both may desire it, you cannot perform fellatio in full view of the passing populace. T'would be the slammer for me, and the loony bin for your own gracious self, were you espied in thus pleasuring me."

"Well let's go somewhere then, I want to taste your cum?"

"Whither can we repair to then, my delightful damsel? You know the area better than I?" Forsooth, I was ready to drive to the moon to try her out. However, time was passing quickly, and she had an appointment to hand the Judge her cherry!

She promptly asked, "You got any money?"

I hesitated but a trice: "About three pounds, upon my person. What prompts such an interrogation?"

"Well we can go to the Annex, then."

"What's that?" - As a stranger, the site, and its location were foreign to me.

"It's on the end of the church. They use it as a storeroom, but the Verger lets couples in there if they pay. There are two pews put together to make a bed. They pay him a pound, an hour. He says it's for church funds. We could do it proper in there if you want?"

Of course, I wanted, and said so. "'Tis something I desire immensely, but in duty I must inform you I am at this moment without a prophylactic rubber?"

The damsel did not despair, instead she bid me; "Well then, slip your jacket off and cover me over." Impetuously she set to disadorn me of my over garment, and having succeeded, placed it propitiously, and buried her upper torso beneath it.

Without more ado she had my wherewithal out, and introduced me to the delights of her impetuously fellatating upper orifice, as hands, lips, and that serpentine tongue attempted to encircle and consume me.

Only that evening I had been dreaming about drilling open this delectable maiden's genitalia. Now here she was going down on me with gusto, and promising me a full ride to follow. I wondered if I was dreaming. Suddenly it was too late to be a dream ...

The comely young wench worked with the accomplished professionalism of a maiden experienced beyond her years. Her ardour, and actions, displaying all the needs and desires (both then and immediately following), of a natural nymphomaniac. In truth, it crossed my mind she would make her mother a goodly fortune.

Having drained, and cleaned every last vestige of my not ungenerous testicular secretions, she emerged from under my spread coat. Her tongue - the proportions of which, would not have looked unseemly in the mouth of a rampant mountain lion - gave a last encircling of her luscious lips, and she held out her hand for money, stating, "It will cost you a pound."

She must have read my expression, and quickly explained, "Not to pay ME – to pay the Verger, silly. If I am to be deflowered tonight, I want it done with that." She indicated my loins. " I ain't waited patiently for the past four years to lose my cherry to no Judge with a pencil for a Prick."

"But what about –" She cut my intended utterance short, cutting in almost angrily, "Shit to him, and Mother, I want to be fucked properly first time, and sod the Rubber Johnny. You got that money?"

I complied a little dazed, but with alacrity. She snatched the cash from me, and vacated her seat with briskness: In seconds, her shapely calves helped propel her out of sight down an adjacent alley...

That Annex, I vouchsafe, could tell many an erotic yarn - were it given to speech – I'll be bound.

Once the pair of us were ensconced within its walls, in the gloom I detected the sound of somewhat laboured breath. I assumed some other willing wench was accepting a portion of hot pork roll. As I undressed, so laying bare to view my rampant loins, I heard a muffled "Jeeesus fuckking Kerrist."

Not being of a religious bent, and having more interest in divesting myself of garments, whilst marvelling at the emergence of my partner's generously nippled, nubile mammary accoutrements, I had forgone perusing any wall adornments. However, on hearing the muffled cry, I decided to see for myself any pornographic pictorial portrayals.

I looked round, but in the dimness could only see one picture of a sexual nature: Some naked nondescript, tied on a makeshift cross. I hazarded it depicted some gentleman suffering the indulgence of a latter-day Marquis de Sade - Not really my cup of coffee.

It was as my ride for the night revealed her ginger pubic down-like adornment, that I heard another sharp intake of breath, and located that it had originated from behind a knothole in the wall beside me. Thus did I became acquainted with the fact that we were being observed from behind it. I presumed the Verger was busy there - bashing his bishop.

What followed is of necessity of a personal nature, privy only to the wench, my goodly self - and the Verger.

... The upshot of this dissertation is that a certain dignitary missed out on plundering young Alice's cherry. Her Mater was less than enthralled, and though Alice took up her trade forthwith, over the weeks no client filled her considerable needs.

One morning, following serving another batch of ill-equipped knights of the highway, she decided she had had enough – or rather, not enough. Instead of repairing to her boudoir to sleep, she only tarried sufficient time to sling a few chattels in a bag, and vacated for good her erstwhile abode.

She arrived later that morn on my doorstep, and settled in with me. We kept each other happy: Her mater visited only once - to beg her to return – and accuse me of stealing her daughter.

It would be a fitting ending if I could report that we lived happily ever after - but it was not to be...

Fate has a nasty habit of raising it's head as frequently as One eye, and my eyes had alighted on an exceedingly nubile piece of Coffee Cream colored crumpet called Nulla, who had, of late moved to the area with her family. Coffee has ever been a preference of mine, particularly of the Camp Coffee variety. (Note: inappropriate sneaky advert.) Once my one-eyed inspiration had gotten the scent of Nulla, my fate was sealed: Out went Alice, and in came my Ethiopian teenage Venus. Though only used to leading camels in the land of her origin, she took to donkey-riding regularly, and with great gusto.

Alas, poor Alice tried to satisfy both her own, and her mater's desires, but declared to remain less than satisfactorily filled. One morning, in the midst of One eye's early morning exercise, under Nulla's guidance, Alice returned to the door, and declared that if she couldn't have me satisfy her, she would for ever abide in the nearby Nunnery.

Now, I was not exactly a man of the world back in those tender years, but not sufficiently naïve as to not know a few ' That's what the nun said to the Bishop' and 'As Mother Superior said when...' stories. So not being ungenerous – aided by a couple of impatient jerks from Nulla – I produced a couple of fivers, and handed them to Alice, assuring her that it was sufficient to purchase some Easter candles. (They are not misnamed as 'Passion' candles, by the Priesthood, being both large enough to burn throughout the Easter services, and in Alice's case, they would serve her well - until such times as she was settled into the regular routine of such establishments.

That was the end of it... She departed my life, and had faded some long years from memory – until my Video viewing was so rudely interrupted....

However, that parson person was nothing if not persistent. I would have wrapped his cloak round his neck and bundled him out the door, but that would have upset wifey – and it's a brave man - or fool - that would do that! Luckily I am neither, so I agreed to accompany him – anything to get that foul breath out of the house – as even the 'Mother-in-Law's Tongue' plant was starting to droop in the corner.

Declining to share car or taxi – I wanted to arrive alive – we hastened by foot beyond the built-up area, to an isolated brothe... roadside café. Outside was nothing – well nothing unusual – inside the pool table had been converted into a makeshift bed. A one-armed bandit had been moved to form a headrest. On this contraption lay Alice: surrounded by her mater, an over-eager new Undertaker and his assistant, and a couple of impatient punters.

On seeing my entry, Alice, cried out in a thin voice, "Oh praise be, I can enter paradise a happy woman."

She had lost some weight from vital areas since last I clapped eyes on her, and gained it elsewhere. She had not lost any of her passion. Leaping with a lust cry, she took me unawares, and landed with a satisfied grunt on the ever-willing One eye – who had popped out to renew an old acquaintance.

Hardly had Alice's last ride begun, when her mater grabbed me by the waist, tore me free of Alice, and started delivering a series of blows on One eye. The sheer ardour of her attack forced me squarely over the centre spot of the table.

Only after the fifth or sixth blow did I say enough was enough – One eye was getting tired of being blown, and starting to droop. Fortunately, Mater's own lust had partially been sated; even so, she shifted position and pulled me inside her like a foot entering a well-worn sea boot.

Minutes later her 'Oooohing and Aaarring' diminished. Here eyes ceased to roll, and regained focus.

She rolled me away – revealing that Alice had succumbed to lack of breath beneath us - and was already laid out for the undertaker. On seeing this, Mater started to rain blows about my head with a large wooden ruler - snatched from a goggle-eyed Undertaker's assistant - The while screaming, "You done it again. You done it again. THAT'S TWICE you took my daughter from me – and just when I'd got her back."

Let me say here and now: She will never have recourse to utter "That's THREE times..."

Now it may just be me – being an unsophisticated gentleman - but it seems there's just no way of pleasing some women...?