Soaked To the Skin Pt. 07

Soaked to the Skin - Part 7

Hannah's week was a busy one. Up early and on the train to London heading to her internship. The internship she had been seeking when the delay to her train and the rain had introduced her to Sir Hugh. How strange it had been getting naked with a stranger whilst drying clothes. Hannah was now very happy being naked with Sir Hugh -- and Lady Lyanthe, and, for that matter Bradshaw the gardener. The Saturday following saw her sailing through the gates of Mumble Hall and she took it carefully going down the driveway on her bicycle. Her knee still had sticking plaster upon it, but that could not be seen. She was wearing jeans rather than one of her dresses. And a blouse as well -- of course. She was not bare breasted -- however acceptable that might have been at the hall.

Jebediah Bradshaw watched the young lass cycling. It was a pleasing sight. He rather liked the thought of Hannah cycling without that blouse. Just in jeans, so her breasts moved in pleasing ways. Within his corduroy trousers his penis filled. Perhaps on the way back from the hall in the evening she might pop in and see him for something hot and wet -- a cup of tea perhaps.

It was a gorgeous day and Hannah was not exactly surprised to find Sir Hugh in a deckchair, a straw hat and reading a newspaper -- completely naked. He stood as she walked up to him.

"Another walk in the woods today, Hannah?"

That sounded simply lovely and she readily agreed. Sir Hugh put down his newspaper and made to walk across the lawn. Hannah put her best foot forward.

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?"

Hannah took it to mean she should undress. It was funny how easy she found it now to undress in front of Sir Hugh. It had not been so easy in the workman's hut. A hand to her blouse, a button undone and then another. She put the blouse on the deckchair and then reached behind her for the clasp of her brassiere. Her large breasts needed restraining when cycling -- or at least she thought so. Up at the lodge, Bradshaw had other ideas about unrestrained young girls out cycling. He liked to see their peaches, pears or even melons out in the open, quivering and ripe. To be squeezed to test that ripeness. Lovely red cherries, sweet and firm. Sir Hugh and Hannah were a goodly distance from him, but he could see Hannah's breasts as they were revealed, and she was all at once just as he had wished to see her on the bicycle -- clad only in jeans. He could see, even at that distance, Sir Hugh's clear appreciation as the baronet's penis jerked into a stand. Bradshaw fumbled in his corduroys, undoing buttons, and brought out his own cock, as firm as Sir Hugh's, and reminiscent of his own cucumbers in their frame. Topped with his shiny 'plum,' it seemed to have fresh 'dew' upon it. Bradshaw stroked. A man likes a wank.

Upon the lawn, Hannah unbuttoned the brass button to her jeans and moved the zipper down.

"That reminds me. I have a pair of your knickers to return... or should I make a collection? Some men do, you know. Oh yes, Hannah, how white and virginal!"

Hannah had pulled the jeans apart at the fly and was lowering them. Indeed they were, her white knickers now displayed. Up at the lodge the old gardener had seen the sudden flash of white. They were echoed by his teeth as he broke into a broad smile, his hand drawing his flesh up over his 'plum.'

"Not so virginal," she said.

"Oh, I can imagine."

"You think you might take my virginity then?"

"I have the means."

Sir Hugh certainly did. Enough to be seen clearly from quite a long way at the lodge. Jebediah Bradshaw also had the visible means -- it was as revealed as Sir Hugh's. The old gardener watched the removal of jeans and knickers, their tossing upon the deckchair and the departure of the naked man and young woman down the lawn. Sir Hugh's cock had not subsided but, there again, nor had his. It was big in his hand. His employer and the young visitor disappeared from sight towards the woodland. Two naked and pink bottoms. Jebediah Bradshaw's were on the one whose cheeks rose and fell with a delightful wobble.

Lovely to wander in woodland glades and down little paths through trees, the sunlight filtering through and everything so green and lovely. Wonderful too to be out naked. Until meeting Sir Hugh, Hannah would not have thought of such a thing. Naked for the bath, becoming naked for a boy, perhaps, when out on a walk and somewhere secluded but not to walk freely in the natural state. To talk of this and that -- not always sexual things.

They had walked and talked for quite a time when Hannah said, "Erections are funny things, Sir Hugh." She had reached out and closed her fingers around Sir Hugh's organ. It had not been hard at that point, but soon swelled in her hand. She had drawn the foreskin back.

"Funny peculiar or funny ha-ha?"

"Peculiar. I mean, look how big it is in my hand." She made to bend it, but it was too rigid. "I understand its purpose -- I suppose it does two things..."

"Three, if you count hanging your hat on it."

Hannah smiled. "Go on then!" Sir Hugh stood still, and Hannah took off her straw hat and used Sir Hugh's upright penis as a peg for it. "I wonder how long that would stay before falling off!"

"That depends upon you."

Hannah's hand crept between Sir Hugh's buttocks and fondled his balls. The hat stayed put. And stayed when they walked on. It was very funny. Hannah imagined them meeting someone. Perhaps the person would be shocked at her nudity -- maybe pleased! Whether, though, the person would be shocked or pleased by Sir Hugh perhaps rather depended on the person; would Sir Hugh lose his stiffness or not -- would the hat fall? Unlikely, though, that they would meet anyone. It was Sir Hugh's private estate after all.

A wander through the woods and down to the lake. They sat on a bench in the shade overlooking the water.

"When did you start having erections, Sir Hugh?"

"From birth, I think. Not that I remember of course! But I've always been conscious it can go hard when I need to pee. Of course, later comes the sexual feelings, wet dreams and masturbation."

"I suppose if you have a nice dream you get hard. Do you, do men, really come in your sleep?"

Sir Hugh nodded. "Even now, but only occasionally. Getting hard in my sleep -- of course. Nocturnal Penile Tumescence happens four or five times a night for most men. I often wake hard."

"Must be nice for Lady Lyanthe!"

"It is certainly nice for me sometimes. Awaking to find your hard cock being sucked or stroked, or even, just the once, I awoke to find my dream of fucking was just that! Lyanthe had inserted me whilst I was asleep and was having a nice little fuck 'on her own.' That was quite an experience -- so it is not just girls who get taken in their sleep!"

"Is it nice having a wet dream? I mean, I have them, but they are different -- wet, yes, sexual yes, but not..."

"...making quite such a mess in your pyjamas!"

"I'd like to see. I've not... Well, I suppose few women have seen. You'd have to sit up all night watching!"

"A male wet dream happen? Imagine, Hannah, you the night watchman or rather watchwoman at a college for young men. Hot summers nights in the tropics and as you walk between the beds of all these naked young men at night you see all their cocks. Pyjamas worse than unnecessary. They are, after all, young men together. Best to avoid clothing altogether, even a sheet over the naked body too much. Hot, damp, sweating male bodies each one with a cock. You can look at their penises as they sleep as much as you like. Defenceless young men showing you everything. Some are hard with Nocturnal Penile Tumescence. Cocks expanding and subsiding in front of your eyes, seemingly not at rest but changing shape and position. Perhaps you might catch one or two actually ejaculating. They are healthy young men and wet dreams will be frequent and the norm. You watch a young man lying upon his back and note his erect cock, shall we seven inches of it or would you like eight, seems to be twitching, the rounded knob expanding. Will he? You move in closer, keen to see -- yes, there it comes."

Sir Hugh looked closely at Hannah, "Would you like that Hannah, being able to watch it just come? Another seems just half hard when, all of a sudden, it twitches and begins to come, a little spurt and then it produces more and more as it rises off his thigh, erecting and getting bigger as it comes; not before but as it comes, swinging around to point up his stomach as it keeps on producing semen. Wet dreams do not require erection to happen. How interesting to learn and compare. How many will wake with the evidence of their night thoughts upon them. Obvious to their fellows as they walk to the showers what has happened in the night. Perhaps a cause of ribaldry and laughter amongst the young men. Amusement to see how many have come in the night. Is it perhaps a record?"

Unsurprisingly Sir Hugh had stayed erect. He had placed his straw hat upon his thighs when they had sat down. It rather preserved his modesty, but it was most definitely there, rampant indeed beneath the hat. Sir Hugh did not miss that Hannah was squirming in her seat. The itch and wetness she got when with Sir Hugh and hearing his strange talk very much present. Would she remove the straw hat?

"How obvious would it be, Sir Hugh?"

He smiled, clearly pleased at her question and interest, "I suspect very obvious, my dear, young men produce a lot of semen and forcibly. The long trails of dried, rather flaky, semen will show not just across their flat stomachs but up onto many of their chests. Men like to come between the breasts of young women, but they also come between their own! Moreover, roused by the morning bell some will have that peculiarity of men of waking not merely as I am sure you do some mornings, of desperately needing to relieve yourself." His eyes were upon Hannah and she nodded in agreement. "But very visibly showing this by being strongly erect. How would you like that Hannah, these young men walking to their morning ablutions both naked but also strongly erect? Walking past you with their cocks so stiff."

By now Sir Hugh's fingers were inside her, so it was not just the images his talk provoked that aroused her but the physical stimulation as well. "I should like that very much," she replied, "all those young men." She blushed prettily, "with their big firm penises, walking by me, I'd like them not to cover with their hands but show themselves big boys. Won't it be difficult for them to wee like that."

"Maybe they just walk into the showers like that and add to the warm water! Releasing as they step in to the showers. What would you think of that?"

"I don't know, Sir Hugh, am I in the showers with them?"

"Your thoughts, Hannah! Maybe, would you like to see those penises with their warm jets, would you like them to turn to you whilst..."

"No!"

"Are you sure? Imagine holding two in your hands, feel the throbbing as they empty themselves; imagine stroking as they do that, forcing them to release another liquid shortly after the first. And there would be lots more to empty there in the steaming showers. Even without you the lads might well do a double emptying. They might have awoken with pleasant dreams fresh in their minds and... once they've become used to walking naked and erect morning after morning with evidence of nightly emissions upon their skin amongst their fellows -- why not a communal wank and release before breakfast, perhaps revealing to their friends just what they had been dreaming about -- trying to describe the pretty girls they had been enjoying in their dreams. A sharing of their erotic imaginations between them in the showers. A morning ritual of sharing dreams and wanking."

Hannah's mind was full of the thoughts of young men, each man jack of them tumescent, soapy and all wet in the steaming showers. It was a very pleasing image. Tumescent men walking to their morning communal shower. Walking in and, before turning on the water, just relaxing and letting their penises jet as they began to talk of their pleasant dreams. Perhaps even hosing their friends with their hot streams -- or he! The boys turning towards her, erect streaming penises turning to her -- as they talked of dream women and what these young men had dreamt of doing.

"Or would you prefer, Hannah, the role of school matron, walking between the rows of beds helping the young men relax and get to sleep? It is a very hot night. Would you like a nice crisp white uniform? You have a job to do or rather jobs! Sitting first by one bedside and then another and another, your hand so busy. Helping the boys."

Hannah nodded enthusiastically, "I'd like that. May I suck?"

"Cock after cock?"

"Cock after cock," she repeated, "may I suck you Sir Hugh?" Hannah reached and lifted the straw hat off - and there it was, just like the young men in the dormitory. Might she on her rounds perhaps suck one or two. The idea of it! Sucking the young men in their sleep; sucking them until they came; a wet dream in their sleep but into her mouth. The young men perhaps dreaming of just that and little knowing Matron was helping them -- sucking their semen from them. A rather delicious but improbable idea of, over time, sucking them all -- yes, every single one. And none of them knowing! So unlikely they would not wake.

"Would you like a lot of men all at once, Hannah?"

She had thought about it with the stable boys and now the young men in the dormitory.

"I don't know, I... find the thought of the dormitory exciting but I only really need one at a time." Hannah lowered herself down towards Sir Hugh's penis. It was big and its head shone. The membrane would be so smooth in her mouth. She ran her tongue around it and gently sucked. It would be good, perhaps, to have another man the other side of her on the bench so she could swop from one to the other. And why not a group of lovely young men sporting in the water of the lake. A group of young men like those cyclists she had seen, stripping off for a cooling swim. All those firm buttocks, fine healthy and strong bodies and, yes, dangling male appendages. And would they dangle for long at the sight of her, all naked, sucking Sir Hugh. She would like to see that!

"I can't imagine I'll have the opportunity."

Sir Hugh smiled. Hannah saw the smile as she lowered her head again. Had he some idea in mind?

"As I said, Sir Hugh," Hannah's head rose once again, and she looked at Sir Hugh's organ in her hand. The head bulbous and wet with her saliva; she brought his skin up and down. At the top of the head the narrow slit, "and I realise now the three purposes of the penis," she smiled as she stared at the slit, "two purposes of which involve liquid coming out of here," her finger touched and tapped, "but how much do they vary?"

"In size, shape, colour, angle, efficacy?"

Hannah gave it another stroke, "all those things."

"A lot, Hannah, a lot. Apparently, the average length is some five inches."

Hannah looked at the organ in her hand. It was certainly longer than that. A lot, lot longer.

"We have discussed," said Sir Hugh, "Semen Displacement Theory and the comparative size of the human penis to other primates."

Hannah smiled and nodded. How many girls received a lecture -- which she knew she was about to -- whilst holding the lecturer's erect penis and stroking it -- moreover, with it wet from her mouth?

"Variation in everything, really Hannah, noses, eye colour, hair colour, height, facial appearance -- you name it, everything about people varies so obviously so too the penis. I suppose length the most obvious, though clearly girth is important."

"As noticeable as length to the woman -- if not more so!"

"Quite! Over a foot is apparently the record. Imagine that; though it is hardly likely to stand well or at all! Nothing on the Blue Whale with its seven foot plus 'surprise.' I think I have mentioned the Ancient Greeks would have been horrified by such a foot-long job -- a 'pous' in the Greek. Their ideal was small and delicate penises. Only barbarians had large ones."

"So, you're a barbarian really." Hannah stroked Sir Hugh's 'barbarous' organ. "I wonder what a small and delicate one would be like. Sweet, I expect. Be like petting a little kitten rather than a big dog!"

"Interesting imagery, Hannah! The more normal size would be the half foot erect - the dichas to the Ancient Greeks or rather less, as I said."

"Dichas?"

"Co-incidence Hannah!"

His earnest face looked straight at her. "Even the way they lean varies. Erect they tend to lean one way or another. Again, we talked about dressing to the left, as I do, but as you can see my cock is not perfectly centred when erect -- and it is very comfortably erect in your hand. Without your support it leans a little to the left. Nor do penises tend to rise, when erect, to be ruler straight -- whether using a six inch or foot rule! Slight penile curvature is the norm. A subtle bend to the left, right, up, or down. Sometimes men have a penis that has a banana-like curvature, again that may be up or maybe down -- or to one side. And to match one testicle hangs lower -- the bigger or heavier one -- most men have testes asymmetry."

"Normal too for penile skin to be darker pigmented than the body generally. If you look at mine -- hold it up -- you can see the median raphe, that line running from down and disappearing between my balls is darker still. And then some men have freckles, and some are exceptionally veiny - twisted and prominent -- whereas others have not a ridge, not a hint of vein and are as smooth as... well, your lovely breasts."

Hannah smiled at the compliment. And was about to say something about the penis in her hand when Sir Hugh simply sailed on with his discourse.

"And whilst on the subject of size, even flaccid there is much variation. Not that I can demonstrate that at present, unless, Hannah, you decide to do rather more of that stroking! Size flaccid not a good guide to size tumescent. Some men grow a lot -- some don't. And, of course, the weather or at least the cold has a lot to do with it. A warm penis is larger -- should we choose to go for a swim in the lake you will see me shrink away to very little! I expect, though, you will be able to bring it back to life and size with some 'TLC,' wouldn't you?"

"I'd do my best, Sir Hugh."

"It's about blood flow. The greater the blood flow, the more swelling; the less blood flow, the less tumescence. Getting cold in water like the sea or lake or simply because of the weather, perhaps becoming anxious or nervous, and, strangely, participation in exercise or sport results in temporarily reduced blood circulation because it is needed elsewhere."

It was obvious Sir Hugh's hot blood was not needed 'elsewhere' at the present, rather it seemed concentrated in his penis: plenty was packed into his rigid and upright cock. Hannah squeezed feeling the pressure under her fingers.

"And the head of the penis varies enormously. Some pointed, even arrow like: others big oversailing mushroom heads, almost flat; coalscuttle helmets and acorns. And all this before you even get onto the ejaculation -- fulsome, powerful, or simply running. You should make it your study, Hannah."

Hannah grinned, she had her internship rather than another university course -- an MA or MSc? Would her study be an artistic and aesthetic one or rather a scientific study of the male sexual organs? An absurd idea, but there was nothing wrong with having a hobby! Hannah returned to focusing on the one she had in hand, examining it once more, orally -- an oral examination, examining it in detail with her lips and tongue.

A lovely afternoon down by the lake. Hannah lay on the bench looking up at the trees above and sometimes out over the water. She lay not with her head in Sir Hugh's lap -- it was not her hair that was being stroked -- rather with her legs up and over his. With Sir Hugh's substantial penis erect and full, lying with her head in his lap might have been difficult but it was easy enough to part her thighs, rest her bottom on the bench, and move up to Sir Hugh so his penis was right between her thighs, close to her sex, and have it rise up between them. Funny to look down her body and see the knob appearing almost where a penis would be on her body -- a bit short and dumpy but did penises not vary. Perhaps if she had been a boy, she might have had a short thick one. Lovely to lie there and have her own sex played with. Sir Hugh gently masturbating her in the dappled warmth of the afternoon's sun. Funny to watch him taking his wet fingers - wet from her -- and stroke himself. It was not a position for sexual intercourse. They would need to move for that. But being masturbated was nice. In a way what would be nicest, strangely, would be for Sir Hugh to use his slippery fingers -- slippery from her -- to bring himself off, his cum shooting in the warm air to land upon her and then to use it, warm all over her pubis, to masturbate her to climax. Sticky, cummy fingers everywhere in and around her sex; stimulating and sensual.