Lizzie released my cock from her mouth and said: 'Oh dear, George has wanked himself to a spend. I may have to postpone his fuck till another day. Still, no matter, Henry I want to taste your cum.'
She gobbled my cock back between her lips and started to suck lustily on my shaft, yet again making me almost swoon with unbelievable pleasure. Warm waves of sheer bliss flowed through my entire body as her teeth scraped my cockflesh and she sucked slowly all the way down to the base of my tool. As Lizzie's darting tongue lapped along the underside of my shuddering shaft, my balls began to tighten. I whimpered because I realised that I was unstoppably close to a second spend, even though she had only been sucking my cock for barely a minute. Lizzie must have sensed my urgency, for she now clamped her lips around my shaft and gently squeezed my balls, with the result that, in seconds, the sticky jism was shooting up my cock and spurting into her mouth. She gulped down my copious emission with great delight, although even an experienced fellatrice such as Lizzie, could not contend with the huge gush of spunk she was milking from my twitching todger, and a dribble of white seed trickled out of the sides of her mouth and dropped on to my thighs. Lizzie smacked her lips as she milked the last drops of cum from my now deflating member. When she had finished, she lifted her head and with a saucy smile asked me to tell her with total frankness whether I had enjoyed my first journey into manhood. (Apparently, very occasionally, some young men feel disappointed after their initiation into l'arte de faire l'amour.) 'Do they really?'
I said. 'I find that difficult to believe because for me it was such an immensely pleasurable experience. However, I must apologise for climaxing too quickly for you to join me there.' 'How thoughtful of you, Henry,' said Lizzie warmly. 'You show a fine consideration which will stand you in good stead in your future intimate relations.
In all honesty, there is no need for you to worry overmuch about the speed of your spend. It's only natural for boys to fuck for the first time at a gallop, as if they were jockeys at Royal Ascot. Now that you know the course, so to speak, in your next lesson you can concentrate upon the finer points of riding.' 'Never mind about Henry,'
George interrupted. 'I would dearly love to know when I am going to have my chance!' Lizzie looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and said with regret: 'I am so sorry, George, there really isn't time now for any further instruction. But do not despair. I shall not keep you in suspense for very long. Have either of you any plans for the coming Sunday?' 'No, though if we had we would cancel them, wouldn't we, Henry?' George replied. This made Lizzie laugh as she said: 'Very well then, come up here at half past two on Sunday afternoon, and remember to ensure that you are not seen.' 'Thank you, Lizzie,' I said gratefully and went on to add that such an arrangement would be especially fitting because on the following day George would celebrate his sixteenth birthday. She raised her eyebrows and commented: 'Is that so? Oh, then in that case I will try to arrange something special for the birthday boy.' 'How kind of you, and please feel free to make similar arrangements for his best friend,' I chipped in. Lizzie gave my cock a tug and giggled as she remonstrated: 'You've already had your treat, you insatiable boy.
I take my motto from the Salvation Army which helps the needy, not the greedy! Now, get dressed and go back downstairs before Mr. Hare decides to send out a search party for you. And speaking of Mr. Hare, this reminds me that I have not asked you about how we fared in the football match this afternoon. Presumably we were vanquished as usual, but I am sure you fought to the final whistle to make Beddinghurst work hard for their victory.' 'We fought to the final whistle well enough,' I said, as I pulled on my drawers. 'So much so, in fact, that Billy Goodall scored in the last minute and we beat those blighters from Beddinghurst by three goals to two.' Lizzie clapped her hands in glee at this welcome news. 'Oh, well done, boys, well done indeed! Dear Dr Muttley will be so pleased. Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this, but for the last five years, your headmaster has staked a small wager on the Albion Academy's teams with the headmaster of Beddinghurst, every time their two schools have met at cricket, hockey and football. To the best of my knowledge, this will be the very first time that Dr Muttley will not have forfeited his guinea.' Lizzie continued to shower her congratulations on us as George and I hurriedly dressed ourselves and when we were ready to leave, she said: 'Unless you hear from me to the contrary, I will see you again on Sunday afternoon. If for some reason, you find yourselves unable to keep this arrangement, let me know as soon as possible. If I cannot be contacted, you may leave a message with young Polly, the eldest daughter of Mr. Smeeth, the head gardener, at their cottage.'
My eyes shone at the mention of Polly Smeeth, for this seventeen-year-old blonde-haired beauty is admired by all the fellows in the senior school and also by Mr. Lewis, our Geography master. It is rumoured, she was recently seen going into The Three Tuns public house with him, in the nearby village of Willesborough. What a bonus it will be if the gorgeous Polly also involves herself in Lizzie Dickerson's valiant effort to educate the future rulers of the Empire.
Oh, the joys of fucking! George and I thanked our kind instructress and took our farewells. By the time we reached Trippett's Hall the crestfallen Beddinghurst contingent had left for the railway station and the housemaids were already clearing the tables.
Nevertheless, Bunny Hare had stayed to wait for our return and he sent George off to inform all the members of the team that there would be a training session next Wednesday afternoon. Then he swung his chair towards me and commented that my gait seemed much improved since the treatment given to me by Mrs. Dickerson. 'Lizzie Dickerson's an excellent nurse,' he said and then, to my surprise and with a curious look on his face, he added: 'And a fine figure of a woman too, don't you agree?' It was impossible to prevent my cheeks from colouring up a bright shade of pink as I replied with as much nonchalance as I could muster: 'Is she, sir? Yes, now I think of it, I suppose you are absolutely right.' 'I'm damned sure I'm right, just as I am equally certain that the presence of a female such as Mrs. Dickerson can undo the school's promotion of mens sana in corpore sano, a healthy mind in a healthy body, by meretricious attraction of the Sins of the Flesh,' he snapped. Then, pausing for a moment and speaking in a more gentle tone of voice, he went on: 'Henry, I would like to speak to you in the utmost confidence on a matter of extreme delicacy concerning Mrs. Dickerson. Certain tales have reached my ears about her behaviour that I find difficult to believe have any foundation.
However, there is rarely smoke without fire, and I have come to the conclusion that these stories should be investigated, if only to scotch these rumours and exonerate Mrs. Dickerson from any wrong-doing.' Oh Lord, I thought to myself, and I recalled the little lecture Bunny had given us at the beginning of term, to take a cold shower every morning to save ourselves from 'the evil of the solitary vice'. I realised that he would be very down on any hint of sexual hanky-panky. However, it was not simply to save myself from any embarrassment but because I firmly believe that Mrs.
Dickerson is performing a valuable service for scholars at the Albion Academy, that I decided to tell an untruth when Bunny asked: 'Do I make myself clear?' I nodded and replied with a casual shrug: 'Yes sir, but as I have not heard any such gossip myself, I don't see how I can help you.' Unfortunately, my denial did not cut too much ice with Bunny Hare who must have noted me blushing when he commented upon Mrs. Dickerson's physical attributes. 'Come now, are you quite certain that you have nothing to say about all this? I should inform you that only last week, I overheard a member of the fifth form boast that whilst he was laid up with influenza earlier this term, Mrs. Dickerson put her hand under the bedclothes for a purpose which it is hardly necessary for me to explain to you, he persisted.' No, it is quite unnecessary, but I'll lay odds you will not leave it there, I thought to myself, as I further recalled the relish with which the sports master had warned us against the dangers of impure urges. In all probability, this meant that in common with Reverend Jellicoe, Bunny would now begin to question whether I had experienced erections, suffered from nocturnal emissions, fantasised about naked girls or, worst of all, played with myself.