The River Room restaurant, Savoy Hotel, Strand, London
Journalist Edmund Molloy has been having an affair with Edith Challenor, wife of the Professor leading an expedition to look for dinosaurs in the jungles of South America. Edith has engaged Daisy Thompson to act as expedition clerk in the expedition base of operations in the Euston Hotel London. All are planning to attend the birthday weekend of Lord Hoxton, another expedition member, where important men indulge in licentious behaviour with 'game' women.
Over the next few days we were all busier than ever with
arrangements for the expedition. On an increasingly rare visit to the Courier’s
offices I arrived to find a letter addressed to myself in a beautiful cursive
hand.
“Didn’t open it, Mr Molloy,” said Dan, the post boy. “Looks
like it might be from a lady!”
“Can’t think any ladies would be interested in Molloy!”
said Smith (known as ‘Whiff’ because he seemed not to know about the existence
of soap). “Fishwives, maybe. Scullery maids if he was lucky.” I glared at him
and ducked into McAndless’ empty office, to his annoyance. Everyone was now
well aware that I was becoming the favourite and most were pleased for me.
Most. I opened the letter, hoping it was from Daisy but it was from
Hoshimi, written on splendid Babylon Exploration Society notepaper. ‘Explore
the wonders of the world’ it said under the Society’s coat of arms which
features two naked ladies, one obviously a negress and one oriental supporting
the shield which included depictions of two balls, a Greek column and a
suggestive looking sea shell. I suspect that the College of Arms had not been
involved in the design.
I read Hoshimi’s letter. ‘My dear Mr Edmund. What a delight
to receive such a splendid bouquet from you this morning. All the other girls
are very jealous. I did enjoy my brief time with you the other night. You may
be interested to know that I slept with Anna and Bettina that night, in the
same bed and we discussed your magnificent physical attributes and became most
excited! Your thoughtfulness in asking if you had hurt me in any way was much
appreciated but I enjoyed the act immensely. It is rare that I am so capably
filled and the experience was one of pleasure not pain. I have learned that you
will be attending Lord Hoxton’s birthday party this weekend, as am I and hope
we can enjoy some more intimate time together. Your affectionate servant,
Hoshimi’
She had also signed her name in the curious Japanese script.
I wondered if she had had help with writing the letter as it was so well
expressed in English. She must have. I
realised that she had only ever uttered a few words to me. I wondered who had helped her. I sat on
the corner of McCandless’ desk and recalled watching my manhood slide in and
out of Hoshimi’s pink parts and the delicate lines disappearing into the centre
of her anus. I began to get erect...
“McCandless out?” I jumped off the desk as Lord Ventnor
charged into the room.
“At the Old Bailey, Lord Ventnor!”
“Bugger. Never mind. Made the news yourself today, Molloy.
Kissing your sweetheart! Like to invite you and her to dinner at the Ritz with
the memsahib, shortly. Buy her a nice dress, your girl.” He gave me five pounds
and a copy of one of our rival papers and disappeared as quickly as he had
arrived.
“Thank you...” I said to his disappearing back. I read the
brief paragraph Lord Ventnor had indicated and they had somehow found out about
Daisy and my brief kiss in the restaurant of the Euston Hotel and had printed a
story about it. ‘Only a few kisses left for Courier man’s sweetheart before he
heads to certain death in dinosaur infested jungle!’ it read.
“What a horrid thing to say!” said Daisy as I showed her
the article later that day. “Poor Edmund!” She stood up from her desk in our
‘office’ at the Euston Hotel and gave me a kiss.
“Good to see you working on your decoy role so assiduously,
Daisy!” said a smiling Edith, as she checked some oil lamps in a crate.
“Sorry Mrs C. Didn’t meant to take liberties!” said
Daisy.
“Kiss away, Daisy. I am not jealous. I am sure we can share
Edmund. In every way!” She winked at Daisy who grinned.
“Mrs C! You are a caution!”
That afternoon I had taken Daisy to be photographed by one
of the Courier’s photographers, the rodent-like Smaile, to accompany the interview
with her I had written. It was primarily about her role in ordering and
sorting our equipment but I added something along the lines of how sad I would
be to sail away from my new ‘special friend’. The Courier over-egged it by
writing the headline: ‘Intrepid reporter leaves love for lizards!' Edith
later told me how annoyed the Professor had been at dinosaurs being called
lizards, which they were not.
Smaile had taken our pictures at the Natural History Museum
and was the newspaper’s top photographer for portraits and the regular shots of
pretty young actresses we ran on Saturdays. The session was one both she
and Smaile had thoroughly enjoyed. Daisy seemed to enjoy posing and Smaile kept
telling her she was a natural. He suggested she remove her jacket which, of
course, revealed her impressive bosom, under her blouse.
“Crikey, Miss!” he observed. Daisy smiled at him and pushed
her chest out.
“Mum always said they’d either lead to my ruin or my
fortune!” said Daisy.
“Fortune. Definitely!” said Smaile, putting another plate
into the camera. “How about you stand sideways to the camera, Miss? You’ve got
such a lovely profile!”
“Smaile!” I warned.
“If you ever want to get some nicer shots of her, Ed,” said
Smaile, scratching his groin, after the session had finished and Daisy had
rushed back to Edith at the hotel. “You know. More informal. Personal
like. Intimate shots. Let me know. Artistic they
are, the ones I do but everything is very clear!” I wanted to smack his head
but then wondered about getting Edith photographed naked.
“Look here, Smaile, We were thinking of taking some cameras
to Brazil. Could you sort me out something light and show me how to use them?
The expedition would pay you, of course!”
“Ooh, I don’t know, Ed,” said Smaile. “I’m a busy fellow
and you don’t have much time left in this country. Might be expensive.
Might be nigh on impossible, at such short notice! Now if you
could see to persuade your lovely young lady to pose for some more informal pictures
then it just might be possible. In
her underthings perhaps? A favour for a favour! A nice memento for you to
take with you on the ship. You could put it by your bedside and look at it when
you are having a...”
“Smaile! How could you suggest such a thing! Anyway, I
thought you didn’t have the time!” I said.
“Time, is a very flexible commodity in my line of work.
Different amounts of time have a different cost. Like finding the time to
locate some cameras!” He smirked. I thought about it and then decided that I
might just be able to persuade Daisy to pose for such pictures. As she had already posed for such drawings in
her previous job she might not object to being photographed similarly. She
would probably enjoy it, I thought, remembering her animated poses while
wearing a series of hats earlier.
“I will see what I can do,” I said.
“Lovely! Come back next Thursday morning,” he said,
consulting his diary “Should warn you though it’s amazing how when you get a
pretty young girl in front of the lens they’re all happy to remove more and
more of their togs! They love showing what they’ve got!”
“I am sure that Daisy is a properly bought up young lady!”
I said
“Them is the worst!” he said.
“Just get the cameras. And film. Lots of film!”
The next day Daisy and I had an entertaining lunch with
Edna Somersby who was delighted to meet my “young lady!” The ‘Daisy decoy’ was
working a treat, following the interview I wrote up for the Courier. They had
printed a lovely picture of Daisy in a splendid hat and she looked quite as
lovely as one of our Saturday actresses. McCandless was delighted with her
comments about a dinosaur expedition scrapbook. On Saturday. the newspaper
printed some artist's impressions of dinosaurs by the famous American illustrator Charles Knight.
We had to work on the Saturday as we only had some ten days
before we left on the liner but that evening Daisy and I went to the pictures
together at the Scala Theatre on Charlotte Street. We went to see the famous
full colour film With Our King and Queen Through India but
before that there was a newsreel. Daisy disappeared, briefly, after we had sat
down. Half way through the newsreel a caption came up: “Challenor expedition
staff entering their expedition HQ” And there, on screen, were Daisy and I,
coincidentally meeting up outside the Euston Hotel as we had done earlier in
the week. I had not noticed a motion picture camara at the hotel but that was
probably as I was more focussed on Daisy. who was looking quite ravishing that
morning. You could see us speaking to
each other and then Daisy kissing me. There were a few cheers in the audience.
‘Intrepid Courier reporter Edmund Molloy’ said the caption. Then there was a
view of Daisy alone. ‘His sweetheart Miss Daisy Thompson.’ There was piercing
squeal from the aisle behind me. I turned and saw Daisy standing with her hand
over her mouth,
“It’s me! It’s actually me. On the silver screen!” she
cried. This caused pandemonium, as the audience caught on to who we were.
“Look it’s them!”
“They’re here!”
"The brave reporter!”
“That lovely girl!” It took the rest of the newsreel for
things to calm down. The picture house staff had to persuade people to sit down.
As we left the cinema I had to shake many hands and even sign some of Mr
Knight’s pictures of dinosaurs. Daisy lapped up the attention and glowed with
pleasure. She looked completely lovely, I thought. We walked down Charing Cross
Road towards Trafalgar Square and the Charing Cross underground station for the
District Line. Daisy would take it to Victoria and I would go on to Earl’s
Court. We were arm in arm and I felt very comfortable with her. She was still
very excited about seeing herself on the cinema screen.
“I must tell Alice! We must go and see it together!”
Alice lived in the same mansion block in Pimlico. She chattered on. “Edmund you
are not saying much!”
“I think you are saying quite enough for both of us!” I
laughed. She looked crestfallen and then thumped me on the shoulder. I pretended
to wince.
“Oh, sorry! Let me kiss it better!” she said, standing on
tiptoe, putting her hand behind my neck and pulling me down into a kiss.
“My shoulder is here!” I said, indicating it.
“Yes but what fun is there in kissing a mackintosh!” she answered,
reasonably.
“It still hurts!” I lied, hopefully.
“I was hoping it would!” She kissed me again, this time
more passionately and I kissed her back. A woman passing by ‘tutted’ at us and we broke
apart, embarrassed.
“Well, Edmund Molloy, that was very good kiss for your
sweetheart! What would Edith say?”
“Edith is not my sweetheart. We have an arrangement, that is
all. It is not a permanent arrangement, either. It will end when I leave for
Brazil!” I was trying to distance myself from Edith in front of Daisy. I
already knew that Edith could only be a diversion whereas Daisy...
“No, I am your
sweetheart! It says so in all the papers and the newsreels!” she pinched my
side, playfully.
“In that case we should probably have another kiss, in case
there are any reporters skulking in the shadows!” I said and we did. I wanted to get off at Victoria to see her
back to her flat but I must confess that a part of me hoped she would invite me
inside. I thought about Edith and had a brief pang of guilt but Edith, I
thought, would probably be entertained by this sudden romantic turn. Conscious
of the people who seemed to be watching us in the carriage, as we rattled
along, I gave Daisy a quick squeeze and she gave me a peck on the lips before
leaving the carriage. She waited on the platform until the train left the
station and gave me a wave. I smiled to myself, like a fool.
“Excuse me, Mr Molloy...” said a lady brandishing a copy of
the Courier at me. I reached for my pencil.
I spent all Sunday writing my next piece but kept breaking
off to look at the address on the card Daisy had given me in the lobby of the
Great Northern Hotel. I kept it next to me and kept glancing at it.
I knew I shouldn’t but in the afternoon I took the underground to
Victoria and walked to her block. I stood outside for some time but then
left and went home again. A couple of kisses didn’t mean she really liked
me and I had Edith to consider. On Monday, at the Courier’s office, old
McCandless was in an ebullient mood. “Sales are up, laddie and so are demands
for advertisements. Parents are buying the Courier just for our dinosaur
pictures, so their children can put them in their scrapbooks! All thanks to
your wee lassie’s comment!” said a beaming McCandless. “Lord Ventnor is
delighted! He wants to invite you and Miss Thompson to dinner tonight!” He
handed me an invitation which Ventnor had obviously left in the office.
“I think I had better telephone Daisy!” I said. She will
need a dress!” Eventually I got to speak to Daisy and she went into something
of a panic.
“Tonight! I cannot possibly manage tonight! I do not
have a dress!” she wailed. I spoke to Edith who agreed to take her out that
afternoon and use some of the Courier’s money which I would then repay from the
five pounds Lord Ventnor had given me.
“Do not spend more than five pounds!” I said.
“Good Lord, Edmund that is a fortune!” said Edith. “We
shall go to Selfridges and see if they can fit something today!”
Later that day I had lunch in the River restaurant at the
Savoy with Lord Hoxton, just before he took the train down to Hampshire from
Waterloo. I have to say that the noisettes d''agneau were far superior to the
lamb I had had in the Euston Hotel but the restaurant itself was far more
splendid as well. I apologised, again, for misleading him about Edith
Challenor but he said he quite understood, given the circumstances.
“Decided I am a touch jealous, in fact! Splendid woman, Mrs
Challenor. Bet she goes like a Circassian dancing girl. As I get older, I
appreciate, more and more, the expertise of the older woman. Nothing like being
the plaything of an experienced older lady. Finest feeling on earth! Other than
taking down two dozen ducks in one shot with a punt gun on the Norfolk
Broads!”
“She is very...inventive,” I said.
“Excellent! Must introduce you to some of the Brazilian
bints! Very inventive, some of ‘em. Got a couple of part-tamed ones out there
meself! Ana and Madalena. Real beauties. A touch of the tar brush about ‘em, as you
get with many of the women out there.
Makes ‘em a delicious colour!” He expressed delight that both I and
Britten were coming to his birthday party that weekend, which was why he was
leaving London mid-week, to see to the preparations. I said that I would be
bringing Edith down to his party, although she would appear to be with Britten.
“Well done! Can’t wait to see if she cuts loose!”
“She has indicated that that is precisely her intention!” I
said. “She did wonder if there would be any dancing.”
“Oh yes! A masked ball. In fact masks are all you are
allowed to wear!” he said. I was not
sure what Edith would think about that. “Take
‘em when you can. Molloy. There is no finer pursuit for a gentleman than the
acquisition of hot, wet quim! I write all mine up you know. Always have. Marks
out of ten and what not! Particular talents and observations. Like Lady
Caroline. For example. Likes it up the arse. Swallows me jism. Tends to piss
herself when she comes! Nine out of ten. That sort of thing. Noted every one
since I had me nanny at the age of thirteen! Not her of course! She was twenty.
I was thirteen. Did have a thirteen year old once but it was an accident and it
ws in Paris, so perfectly legal. Toyed with a couple of gels who might have
been a tad younger in Constantinople. Budding breasts, just a hint of fluff but
that was just harmless fun, what? Very clever mouths. Cousins I think.
Won 'em in a game of bridge. Well trained for their age. Like ‘em a
bit older meself. Fifteen to nineteen is perfect for your wide-eyed
innocents and first timers. Then a big gap and I go for the late thirties type.
Bags of tricks those, as you have obviously discovered, what? Note ‘em
all down in me books.” Trying to interrupt Lord Hoxton when he was in full flow
was nigh on impossible so I just sat there swilling my cognac and nodding at
appropriate points. Fortunately, we were the last people in the restaurant and
the waiters were keeping a respectful distance
“So how many ladies, if you don’t mind me asking, do
you have in your notebooks?” I asked.
“Oh! Buggered if I know, exactly! With some of 'em I
was in a bit of a haze, what? Let’s see. I’m on me thirtieth
volume...”
“Good lord!” I said, sounding like Britten.
“Must be about three thousand I suppose! Lots of them are
native girls of one sort or another. Polynesia. Christ, that was a trip! South
Africa. Big girls, the Zulu women Lots of meat on 'em! Everything bounces, too. Especially their arses!”
“It would make an entertaining book!” I said. “I have
started writing down my own intimate experiences in a journal, for future
enjoyment.”
“What a splendid idea!” said Hoxton. “Don’t have your gift
for words though, Molloy! I say! Had a corker of an idea! Why
don’t you write up a memoir for me? We can look at the notebooks and I
can see if I can recall the circumstances, the girls and what have you and you
can turn it into your polished prose. Pay you of course. We’ll have
a session in me library at the weekend. See what you think! Better
still, old Johnny Dupont will be there this weekend. He owns a publishing house
in Paris. Publishes erotic novels in limited editions. Many of the
Babylon members subscribe to the Society’s special editions he publishes for
us. Lots of excellent titles. ‘The Despoiling of a Maid’, ‘Ravished by Arab
slavers’.‘Plaything of the harem girls: a white woman’s confession’, ‘Bound and
beaten in the Congo’, ‘Sisters in Sin’, ‘Buggered by the Cardinal’, ‘My mother,
my lover’; particularly resonates with old Johnny that one, what? Terrific
stuff. Lady Caroline reads ‘em to me sometimes. Sometimes we act out the
scenes! Great actress! Used to be on the stage, donthcaknow? Always
entertaining! I’ll get you a couple. Have a shelf full of ‘em in my
library in Hampshire. Sure you could write that sort of thing,
what?"
“I am sure I could!” I said, smiling. I probably already had
enough material to write saucy love scenes. “Britten has already told me about
the publisher.”
“Now, what about this Daisy I have read about, eh? Looks
like a very pretty gel indeed!” said Hoxton. “Seen her picture in the papers!”
I told him about Daisy and how she wished to come to his birthday weekend as
well, given she claimed to be a 'game girl'. “Young Daisy will be very welcome
indeed! Hope she is modern gel, though. Not easily shocked, eh?”
“She has shocked me a few times!” I said.
“Splendid! Be nice for Lady Caroline’s daughters to have a
gel their own age there too!” said Hoxton. “Got an eighteen year old
hopefully attending but she is only fifty-fifty at the moment!” He looked at
his watch. “Three thirty! Right, best be off to Waterloo! I suggest you catch
the nine fifty nine from Waterloo to Gosport via Alton on Friday. Get off at
West Meon, just after the viaduct. It‘ll be just before twelve thirty. I’ll
have me driver pick you up! We can blast away at some pots a bit in the
afternoon! Look at me racy books in the library! Bring your popsy too,
don’t forget. Not Mrs Challenor. She ain’t a popsy by anyone’s measure. All
woman, she is! Poking old Challenor’s wife, eh! What a card!
Not to say damn courageous! I like you more and more, Molloy!
So you are doing the lovely Daisy as well, eh?”
“No. She started in the nature of a decoy.” I explained the
idea and also that I was finding her increasingly appealing and I was growing
more and more fond of her.
"You need to poke her before we have to go to Brazil.
Wouldn't want to waste such a lovely opportunity!" said Hoxton.
"Hopefully you can get up her this weekend! Be a queue otherwise, I’d imagine!”"
I started to worry about her attending, again.
“Daisy and I will get the train but Mrs Challenor will be
driving down with Britten in the afternoon with Sir Gerald Crozier, his
chairman!”
“Yes of course! One of me very best friends! Good old
Crozier! One of the Babylon Exploration Society’s founder members. Owns some of it. Usually
brings a big stock of rubber prophylactics, appropriately! Can’t have the top
people in the country all impregnating each other’s wives, eh? Maids is one
thing! Ha, Ha! His wife’s a corker! Skinny but permanently in heat! Drips like
a honeycomb, what?” And with another bone crushing squeeze of my hand he was
gone, leaving me in an empty dining room. I suddenly realised that he hadn’t
paid the bill and wondered what on earth it would cost. Several pounds I
suspected, with all the wine and cognac we had had. I would need to clear my
head before dinner with Lord Ventnor. I waved at the waiter. Oh well,
more of McCandless’ money. I reasoned that any meal with an expedition member
could be charged to the Courier. The waiter, however said the bill had gone on
to Lord Hoxton’s account.
“You wouldn’t mind signing a picture for my son, would you,
sir?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said. He returned with one of the dinosaur
pictures which he had cut from the Courier.
“Do you know, I have something better than that!” I reached
into my pocket. McCandless had had a set of postcards of dinosaur
pictures printed to be sold as souvenirs and given to major advertisers. I had
pocketed a few sets in the office. “Here! What’s your son’s name?”
“Joshua, Mr Molloy, sir!” I carefully opened the thick
brown paper envelope and took out the first of the six cards. This one, of a
pterodactyl, had large white areas on it. I signed, ‘For Joshua from Edmund
Molloy. Challenor Expedition. April 1912”. I popped it back inside the envelope
and handed it to the waiter. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. You’ll make
his day!” I left the restaurant with his effusive thanks still ringing in my
ears. “God bless, sir! Hope you don’t get eaten by dinosaurs!”
I was early for our dinner with Lord Ventnor and his wife
at the Ritz, somewhere I was starting to feel quite at home in. Daisy was
already there, pacing up and down. I almost didn’t recognise her as she was
wearing a splendid dress in navy blue which displayed an impressive expanse of
the top of her bosom, given her low, square cut neckline. She had short, loose
sleeves and wore a fetching lace bandeau on her hair decorated with a few navy
blue feathers and some glittering gems of some sort. She looked utterly
edible.
“Do you like my dress? Edith was such a dear and Selfridges
fitted it in an hour. Mr Selfridge himself came down to see me! Can you
imagine? He had seen my picture in the Courier and has asked me to model some
clothes for them. It is so exciting! We had our picture taken! He wants
to put it in a newspaper but I said that only the Courier could cover the
expedition. I said I could arrange it if he bought a nice big advertisement!” I
looked at her, smiling, as she chattered on. She was already attracting
admiring looks from other men in the hotel.
“Are you, Daisy, at any point, going to actually draw
breath? I asked. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut.
“Oh dear! Sorry. I am really rather nervous! Lord Ventnor!
He sounds terribly grand!” She explained that she came from a rather more
humble background than I had imagined but she had learned manners from someone.
“An older gentleman” was all she would say. “It is all in the past
Edmund. You are my present!
“And future?” I asked, as I saw Lord Ventnor and his wife
coming through the entrance.
“I dare to hope!” she said and gave me a quick kiss.
Daisy acquitted herself splendidly with the Ventnors;
flirting slightly with Lord Ventnor and appearing girlishly conspiratorial with
Lady Ventnor. Ventnor had arranged that Smaile be there to take our
photograph before dinner and he had to rush off to get it ready for the newspaper.
The social columns in the other newspapers picked up on the dinner and and
Daisy became firmly established as my sweetheart. Ventnor actually released the photograph for other newspapers to use, unusually.
“Splendid gel!” said Lord Ventnor as we washed our hands in
the cloakroom after dinner. “Give her one from me!” he winked. “A kiss, of
course!”
“Perhaps you should give her one yourself!” I
suggested.
“The memsahib would cut my ballocks off quicker than a
Pathan tribeswoman!” he said. He slapped me on the shoulders. I wished people
would stop doing that. “Doing a splendid job on this dinosaur caper, Molloy.
Decided to double your pay while you are away. Money for perilous service
and what have you. Will Miss Thompson be your next of kin if you get eaten by a
dinosaur?”
“I think that I will have it sent to me mam..er, my
mother!” I said. “Not that I intend to get eaten! Lord Hoxton is going to give
me some shooting lessons down in Hampshire this weekend when I visit for his
birthday!”
“Capital! Well, I will see you there!”
“Oh! Really? You are going to Lord Hoxton's birthday
party?"
"Course. Go every year! A splendid affair!
Turkish theme this year!"
"Will Lady Ventnor be accompanying you?” Lord Ventnor
was going! I was already considering not attending, given this latest
development but how would that look with him and, indeed Hoxton. Perhaps
there would be somewhere I could hide.
“Of course not. Can’t have much fun with the old bird
watching me like a hawk, can I? Eh? What?”
“It might be rather restrictive,” I said.
“Restrictive! Yes! Spot on, old chap! Lovely girls from the
Babylon and what have you too. Know the place?”
“I was there with Lord Hoxton last week!”
“Splendid. Moving in the right circles now, Molloy. Deputy
editor before long I shouldn’t wonder!” My heart leapt. Deputy editor! I hoped
he remembered the comment after the effects of the port wore off. “I suppose
you will be leaving Daisy behind too, eh?”
“Actually, she is keen to attend!” I said.
“Does she know what she is in for?” I nodded. “Game girl,
eh? Just keep Hoxton away from her, what? Especially her arse!”
Just before we left, Lady Ventnor approached me while her
husband chatted to Daisy near the door, a process which seemed to necessitate
him putting his arm around her waist. She was certainly wearing a corset
tonight.
“Mr Molloy, Lady Crozier tells me that you are going down
to Lord Hoxton’s debauched birthday party this weekend!” said Lady Ventnor. She
was a matronly woman who might have been very attractive a few decades and some
three stone in weight ago.
“Debauched? Birthday?” I said, acting as innocent as I
could.
“Try to make sure he doesn’t make a complete fool of
himself with some young girl. I would advise you to keep Daisy away from him
after he has had a bottle of Champagne! Prostitutes are one thing but we don’t
want some pregnant housemaid. Again.” I tried not to react? Really? I must ask Hoxton.
“I will be very attentive!” I promised. She smiled and gave
me a kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t lose that girl,” she said, indicating Daisy.
“She is lovely in every way!”
“She certainly is!” I said, meaning it.
Come the Wednesday I realised we had only a week before the
SS Hildebrand sailed for Brazil. Lord Hoxton, who was now down at his
country house in the Meon Valley, had left some of his luggage with us. He said
that he would bring his guns and personal items by car direct to the port in
Liverpool. Marguerite had taken all her luggage up to Liverpool already
and Professor Challenor was due to leave tomorrow. Only Professor Somersby
would travel with me by train up to Liverpool on the following Wednesday.
Because of other preparations and work at the Courier I only got to the
Euston Hotel at about five that evening, letting myself in with the key which
we had all been given a copy of. Edith was sitting at the desk in the
room, looking at a pile of scattered papers and cursing. Daisy was not there,
disappointingly.
“Bloody things don’t add up! Daisy said they were all fine!
Bugger! Shit!” I came up behind her and kissed her exposed neck. She had tied
her hair in a tight bun but enticing wisps of golden brown hair had escaped. I
blew at them and she giggled.
“Where is she?”
“Daisy? I sent her home early. She has been wonderful today
but I wanted her out the way so we could fuck!”
“I hope the professor hasn’t noticed the continued
deterioration in your language, Edith. You’d make a navvy blush!”
“I want your cock up my cunt!” she said. “But first I
have to balance these figures. Daisy has totalled them up but they don’t match
the receipts! Go into the bedroom and take all your clothes off. I have laid out
a couple of blankets which I stole from the laundry cupboard in the corridor!”
“Our arses are safe from splinters!” I said. I went into
the bedroom and stripped off, stretching and enjoying my nakedness. I cupped my
balls and tugged at my cock which was already starting to grow in anticipation.
I walked back into the main room and looked at Edith frowning at the desk. I
noticed a couple of scraps of paper on the far side of the desk. I walked over
and picked them up. “Would these hold any clue to the problem in hand!”
“What?” she said, waving me away. "You are distracting
me with your cock! Oh! Where did you find those?”
“The other side of the desk!”
“That’s it! This is what I’ve been missing!" She
scribbled something down. “Perfect! I should have known Daisy wouldn’t make a
mistake! She pushed her chair back, which made a horrible scraping noise on the
floor. “Mr Molloy, how can I ever thank you?” she said, unbuttoning her pale
blue blouse.
“Oh I think you should decide that!” I said as I watched
her pull her blouse and her camisole up over her head in one motion. I looked
at her big bosoms with her hardening nipples and completed my process of
tumescence. She unbuttoned her skirt and pushed it and her petticoat down
together. She left her black stockings on and, as usual these days, had
dispensed with drawers. She knelt down in front of me and I put my feet
apart so she could get at me easily. She held my cock back against my belly and
started to lick my balls, sucking each testicle into her soft mouth.
“Mmm!” she said, slipping a hand underneath my groin and
probing at my anus. She pulled my cock down and started to lick and kiss my
member. She looked up at me as she took my knob into her soft, warm mouth.
“Mmm!” she said again as I stroked her lovely shoulders. She began to bob her
head backwards and forwards. We were so involved in each other neither of us
heard the key turning in the lock.
“Oh! So sorry!” said Daisy, crashing into the room and
slamming the door behind her. “Don’t mind me. Forgot my keys! Took them out of
my bag when I... Jesus Christ that’s a nice one!” she said. Edith had pulled
off me to look at Daisy. “Oh there they are! I’ll be off now!” she said
crossing to the desk. “Do you want me to shut the curtains or are you happy to continue
providing a show to the guests in the Victoria Hotel across the square?”
“Daisy! Stay here!” ordered Edith. “But shut the
curtains first!” Daisy hurried over and pulled across the heavy drapes. She
turned back to us and stopped.
“Sorry! I’m somewhat...captivated. Didn’t mean to bother
you. That really is a nice one! Did I
already say that! Oh dear! Goodnight! Have a lovely evening!
Not that you aren’t having one. Or you were. Until I spoilt it! Oh dear!
Am I dismissed?” she stammered.
“Would you like to touch it?” asked Edith.
“Touch it?” asked Daisy.
“Edmund’s cock. Would you like to touch it?” Edith took
hold of me. “It’s really nice. So soft. So...”
“Curved!” said Daisy. “No. Of course, I should leave.” She
remained where she was, staring at me. Or at least, part of me. “Nicest one
I’ve ever seen!”
“Come and stroke it!” said Edith, pumping me once.
“Oh my goodness! No!” she said, advancing towards me. “But
then I am supposed to be his sweetheart. It’s in the papers so it must be true!”
She laughed. Edith released me and reached out and took Daisy’s hand.
“Here!” she pulled Daisy’s hand close to my erection.
Anticipating her touch, I involuntarily twitched it.
“Oh!” she shrieked. She laughed but then she slowly wrapped
her fingers around me and sighed. Edith released me. “It’s been a long time!” she smiled.
“Pump him!” said Edith.
“Really?” said Daisy making no attempt to release me.
“You are supposed to be his sweetheart and at Lord
Hoxton’s party you will be expected to be physically intimate with him, I would imagine. Some
training would be useful!” said Edith.
"Oh! I suppose so. What fun!"
Daisy did, indeed, start to pump me gently. She looked up at me and
smiled. “Can I ? You know! Suck it? Mrs C?”
“Let’s attend to him together, Daisy! But why don’t you
take all your clothes off too. You must feel a little overdressed!” Daisy was
already unbuttoning her blouse and Edith moved in to help her. “I’ve never been
undressed by another woman before Mrs C!”
“Have you ever lain with another woman, Daisy?” asked Edith,
unbuttoning the girl’s skirt.
“Yes! Several times!” Daisy replied, pushing the skirt down over her hips. “It was lovely!”
“Yes! Several times!” Daisy replied, pushing the skirt down over her hips. “It was lovely!”
“Excellent! This will be a first time for me!” said Edith.
“Gosh! How naughty! Are we going to do
it with each other?” said Daisy and squeezed Edith’s bottom. “You are so soft!”
I really couldn’t believe what was going on. Daisy seemed
happy to accede to anything. Daisy stood before me as Edith removed the last of
her underthings for her, rolling her stockings sensuously down her legs.
Daisy’s body was a wonderful collection of curved surfaces. Broad hips short,
rather stocky but shapely legs with delicate ankles, a gently rounded belly and
breasts that were even larger than Edith’s but still high and hemispherical.
“Do you like me!” she said, giving me a little spin and revealing a firm, round, and really quite exceptional, behind. Her waist was very trim, which made her posterior appear even more sumptuous.
“Do you like me!” she said, giving me a little spin and revealing a firm, round, and really quite exceptional, behind. Her waist was very trim, which made her posterior appear even more sumptuous.
“What do you think? Look at his cock!” laughed Edith.
“It looks like it might explode!” giggled Daisy. “Does it
hurt?”
“No! It feels wonderful!” I said, grasping it.
“Oh that is so exciting!” said Daisy.“Watching you hold it!
You are proud of your body and quite rightly! Look at your muscles. You are
like a Greek God!” said Daisy. “And I know you do it like one!” she giggled.
“Don’t encourage him. When I first met him he was all shy. Now he struts around naked all the time, pushing his cock out!” said Edith.
“Lovely! Now what?” said Daisy, still grasping my manhood.
“We are going to go next door where I have laid some
blankets upon the floor. We will turn out the light in there but leave it on in
here. We will gamahuche Edmund until his cock is nice and wet and then he will
fuck me while you watch!” said Edith.
“I have never seen two people...fuck, Mrs C. Not even
myself in a mirror!” said Daisy. “You do use rude words Mrs C! They make me feel
all dirty and excited!”
“After Edmund has come inside me you will lie on the
blanket and I will kiss and caress you and then lick your sex until you come!”
continued Edith.
“Can I then do it to you?” asked Daisy, distractingly, fondling her bosoms. “I love the taste of pussy!”
“You can! By this time Edmund will have recovered and then,
if you agree...” began Edith.
“He can fuck me!” said Daisy looking delighted. “I love my
new job!”
