'He didn't have to be asked twice! After he had unbuttoned my blouse and unhooked my skirt, he tore off his shirt and trousers. Whilst he whipped off my knickers, I could see the tip of his uncapped helmet sticking up under the waistband of his underpants. I could feel my pussey getting wetter and wetter as I sank to my knees and tugged down Peter's pants. His thick cock sprang free and I leaned forward to kiss his knob as I took hold of his hot, throbbing shaft in my hands.'
Sally paused for breath and gratefully accepted my offer of a sip of tea whilst I took the opportunity to observe that so far she had said nothing about Peter that would given any cause for concern.
'Ah, but wait a moment, Mister Andrew,' she exclaimed warmly. 'By now I could hardly wait to feel Peters prick slide between my pussey lips and pound its way into my cunt. So I lay on my back and opened my legs as Peter climbed on top of me. I closed my eyes in blissful anticipation of a delicious fuck-but then I heard Peter choke out a strangled cry of distress. I opened my eyes and saw the poor dear furiously rubbing his previously rampant rod which was now dangling uselessly between his thighs.
'“Relax, Peter, you're just too eager,” I said soothingly and grasped hold of his soft shaft. I slid it up and down inside the cleft between my breasts, thickening up his tool again almost immediately. It looked as if all now would be well, but as soon as I released his prick, it began to deflate back into limpness.'
'Dear, oh dear,' I sympathized as my own cock, which had begun to swell up whilst Sally was recounting her story, now also began to lose some of its stiffness. 'Presumably you tried again to keep Peter's prick hard.'
'Yes, of course I did,' sighed Sally, 'although at first he couldn't even raise a smile. But after I sucked his cock and stuck my little finger up his bum, Peter finally succeeded in maintaining a stand and he fucked me as best as he could. I did enjoy the feel of his thick stiffie sliding in and out of my juicy quim, but I don't think his prick was inside me more than half a minute before he spent. I had to finish myself off by diddling my pussey with my fingers.
'Peter apologized to me as we dressed ourselves. I could see how ashamed he was about cumming so quickly so I tried to put him at ease. However, he could not be consoled. When he left to go home, I watched him walk down the path with his head bowed and looking very miserable indeed.
'So there we are, Mister Andrew-Chrissie and I just hope that you can suggest something that Peter can do about his upsetting condition.'
I stroked my chin thoughtfully as I considered this unfortunate young man's problem. He couldn't afford a visit to Doctor Elstree and whilst I am normally loath to proffer advice on such delicate subjects, I ventured: 'Well, let's get one thing clear, Sally. Neither you nor Chrissie should take this apparent rebuff to your pussies personally. From what you say, Peter is genuinely distressed by his condition and I do know that it is not uncommon and almost always passes away very quickly.'
Then I repeated the gist of what I had heard Doctor Elstree say to his partner when we had played a foursome on the course at his golf club. This gentleman had complained to him that his nephew was suffering from a problem similar to that which had afflicted Peter.
'Premature ejaculation is sometimes caused by over-anxiety,' I went on. 'A chap who is worried about his technique might shoot off too quickly because subconsciously he might believe that this will prevent him from revealing his lack of experience.'
'H'm, I see what you mean, but I doubt if that would apply to Peter,' Sally commented. 'He fucked his first girl when he was only fifteen.'
'Yes, you're probably right,' I nodded. 'And it's more likely that he has another common anxiety which dates back to when he was a boy and first began tossing off. He might have taught himself to come quickly to lessen the chances of being found out and now finds it difficult to change. If Chrissie wants to help him, tell her to try the girl-on-top position because that usually delays the man's climax. Then, when he is about to spend, she should roll off and wait till he gains control before impaling herself on his shaft again to complete the fuck.
'But whatever the reason, this kind of problem feeds upon itself. All Peter needs is time to rebuild his confidence. I'm certain that in due course his cock will make a complete recovery.'
'Thank you, Mister Andrew,' said Sally gratefully, 'I'll tell Chrissie what you say and let you know how she and Peter get on.'
'Please do,' I said. Then, hearing sounds coming from the direction of the kitchen, I said to Sally: 'Mrs. Pelgram has arrived. Would you tell her to prepare some beef tea for Mister Teddy and I'll go into his room to see how he is getting on.'
Well, I am pleased to record that the intensive nursing combined with Professor Mulliken's aspirin tablets helped Teddy shake off his feverish chill by the next morning. By Friday morning he was fighting fit again, straining on the leash to accompany me to Oxfordshire where Katie Judson and her friends were eagerly awaiting our arrival.
CHAPTER THREE. Country Matters
Katie Judson had sent back a telegram to me, stating that she would meet Teddy and myself at Woodstock Station. Sally woke the pair of us up in good time to catch the mid-morning train from Marylebone Station. Mrs. Pelgram served an excellent breakfast and, his appetite now fully restored, Teddy joined me in wolfing down a large plate of bacon, eggs and saute potatoes and lashings of hot buttered toast, all washed down with cups of hot, strong tea.
Since New Year's Day when I had sworn to give up the noxious weed, I found the smell of tobacco offensive and, being only a light smoker, Teddy had no objection to travelling in a no-smoking compartment. It looked as though we might have it to ourselves until just before our departure when a young, well-dressed couple came in. From the way they squeezed themselves tightly together and burbled sweet nothings in each other's ears, I speculated that they might be honeymooners, a conjecture which was soon proved valid in an astonishing manner.
More of this anon; meanwhile, as the train chugged out of Marylebone, I settled down and leafed through a copy of the Daily News whilst Teddy immersed himself in Mr. Jason Kelvin's latest mystery thriller 21b Lyttelton Road which he had purchased at the station bookstall. We gathered speed as we passed through the suburban stations. I was thoroughly enjoying the trip and actually finished reading the newspaper which for some odd reason I never find time to do at home.
Then I rose to my feet. Teddy put down his book, followed me out into the corridor and said: 'Andrew, would you like to join me for tea and biscuits in the restaurant?'
'No thanks, old boy, I only got up to wash my hands,' I answered. Then, before my chum could say anything more, an elderly gentleman wearing a clerical collar walking towards us stopped, peered at Teddy and cried out: 'Bless my soul, unless I'm much mistaken it's young Teddy Carmichael. My dear chap, what a happy coincidence to meet you on the Oxford train.'
Teddy gave him a glassy smile and said: indeed it is, sir. I don't think we've seen each other since you retired down to Winchelsea. How are you and Mrs. Ball keeping?'
'Capital, thank you, dear boy,' he beamed. 'Do come and say hallo to her yourself, she'll be delighted to see you. She's in the next carriage having a cup of tea in the restaurant.'
Teddy looked at me in despair as he attempted to find a way out. 'Padre, I don't think you know my chum, Andrew Scott. Andrew, this gentleman is Canon Gabriel Ball who for many years was the vicar of St Peter's in Wisborough.'