Chapter 3: Where’s Julian?

Law Offices of Cooper, Price and Waterman, London, December 1963

Donald Cooper

Donald continued to work hard at the law firm of Cooper, Price and Waterman and after the initial heat and intensity had petered out, Donald Cooper and Vivian Huxtable’s relationship became more of a dalliance than anything else. Friday or Saturday night out for dinner, maybe a show, back to Donald’s for a shag, with Vivian wearing her stockings and sexy lingerie of course, was about all they could be bothered with.

They had soon worked out that while they were compatible between the sheets, they really didn’t get on. Donald was of half a mind that Vivian was reporting back to Deirdre the intimate details of their tryst but he really didn’t care. Both Donald and Deirdre had been guilty of infidelity while they were married so it made no difference now.

Besides, Donald couldn’t keep his penis in his pants. If he saw a woman he fancied he went after her, especially now that he was unencumbered by a spouse. He’d committed the cardinal sin and had a dalliance with one of the young secretaries named Sally Jessup. By careful observation Sally had realised Donald had a fascination with legs encased in stockings and pantyhose. She flirted with him, making sure she showed plenty of leg.

The secretarial pool didn’t have the same stringent dress code as the ‘front of house’ staff who met with clients and other associates and appeared in court but Gillian Snodgrass imposed dress standards on the typing pool: no trousers permitted. Sally was fond of A-line or pencil skirts and angora sweaters or cardigans. She was fresh faced and a little plump and she wore her shoulder-length, honey-blonde hair off her face held in place by a headband. She favoured pastel makeup, fifteen denier semi-opaque tights and strappy, wedge-heeled courts. An eclectic and almost schoolgirl look.

Sally Jessup had become infatuated with Donald and while the other girls at the firm gossiped about his marriage failure, she felt sorry for him and noted his short absence when his marriage dissolved. When he returned to work he seemed to be no longer troubled and broody and had regained his confident, articulate presence in the office and his friendly flirty nature returned. She made goo-goo eyes at him and was openly salacious in his presence whenever they were alone.

Sally came into Donald’s office one evening on some pretext when they were both alone in the building working late. She was wearing a pleated, tartan A-line mini, a pink angora cardigan over her crisp white blouse and black strappy high heels.

“I’ve typed up the Jenkins deposition Mister Cooper,” Sally dropped a slim file on Donald Cooper’s desk.

“There was no rush for that Sally and Mister Cooper is what I called my father, please call me Donald,” Donald gave her a smile and Sally was acutely aware that Donald was appraising her.

She’d fixed her makeup, hiked up her skirt an extra inch or two and smothered herself with flowery perfume before she came to Donald’s office.

Sitting behind his desk dressed in his Saville Row suit, with his rugged good looks and lustrous black hair he was an imposing, manly figure and Sally felt her heart flutter.

“There was no need for you to work so late,” Donald put down his pen and smiled at Sally and she blushed.

“I just wanted to please you, Mister ... I mean Donald. I like pleasing you. You are the nicest out of all the men who work here,” she gave him a coquettish grin.

There was no doubt in Sally’s mind that she would never call Donald by his first name in front of the other partners or that harridan Mrs Snodgrass but alone in his office it was intimate. She felt a warmth and affection for the man she knew was currently seeing a divorcee named Mrs Vivian Huxtable whom Sally hated, even though she had only ever seen her when she swung by the office to go out with Donald after work.

Donald was acutely aware that Sally had a crush on him and the girl was barely out of secretarial school and very naïve. Vivian was tending to his needs in the bedroom but this young coquette was intriguing and pretty.

“Why don’t you pour us both a sherry before we leave for the evening,” Donald pointed to the small arrangement of liquor bottles set up on a small bar in the corner of his office.

Sally made a show of bending over to open the glass-fronted cupboard under the bar to get to the sherry glasses knowing full well that during her deportment training she had been taught to kneel in order to be modest. By bending over, her little skirt rode up exposing acres of thigh clad in purple semi-opaque tights and her full waisted white satin kickers worn over the top.

Being a buxom lass, Sally was inclined to wear full-cut knickers over her tights and the expanse of shiny white panty was quite an impressive sight for Donald to behold. He felt himself thickening.

Donald knew that undertaking a dalliance with Sally Jessup would be a stupid thing to do. She was young, innocent, unsophisticated and his subordinate and obviously infatuated with him. But Donald’s lust was his driver and he couldn’t help himself.

“Let me help you,” Donald sidled up to Sally and inhaled the cloying scent of her perfume.

It was flowery and fruity and far from his taste but it suited this pretty chubbette of a girl.

There was no real seduction involved, Donald simply led her away from the bar to the leather sofa where he seated his clients to make them feel relaxed and he relaxed Sally into it. She giggled like a schoolgirl and kept trying to pull down her skirt which had ridden up when Donald lay her down on the polished leather.

He kissed her and she tasted like bubblegum and Tizer and she wriggled under him which he liked. His hands were everywhere and before long her angora cardigan was gone and her blouse was open and the white creamy mounds of her voluptuous breasts were exposed. Her areola were big and her nipples were like red raspberries that hardened to his touch.

Donald was not a ‘tit man’ but when Sally guided his head to her breasts he suckled on them like a new-born baby. He took her breasts into his mouth, alternating between them, as he sucked and nibbled the supple teats. Sally squirmed and moaned and intertwined her fingers into his thick mane and guided him from nipple to nipple. It was obvious that she was no virgin but she was no trollop either and he thought he could smell her sex.

When he finally put his hand between her legs he found her knickers almost saturated with her juices. He squeezed a finger between her fleshy labia, pushing the material of her knickers and tights into her maw and stirred it around and Sally giggled and flapped around underneath him, kissing him with open-mouthed, breathless kisses. Her lips were soft and her tongue was tactile and Donald was hard as a sword inside his trousers.

He guided Sally’s hand down to his trousers but she seemed flummoxed but she kept kissing him and scissoring her legs as Donald rubbed her fanny through her knickers and tights. He gave up and extracted his cock from his pants and put Sally’s hand on it and she held onto it like it was door handle, her inexperience showing through.

Donald was a little frustrated with Sally’s childlike and selfish behaviour but he had no inclination to educate her in the art of lovemaking, he just wanted to shag the pretty little plump secretary. He decided he would gratify himself as she didn’t seem to understand what he wanted her to do so he pressed his cock into her thick thighs. The semi-transparent tights she was wearing were not really the hosiery he preferred on his women but they felt nice and soft and sensual on his rampant penis when he rubbed it against her.

“Oh I like that Donald,” Sally giggled and he pressed his mouth to hers to shut her up.

Her knickers became damper as she released a freshet of vaginal juices in response the feel of Donald’s rampant member rubbing on her inner thighs.

Sally may have only had a few sexual encounters but she knew what she liked and she was able to roll over on top of Donald and straddle him.

“I’ll leave my tights on because I know you like them. I’ve seen you looking,” Sally said innocently but kookily.

“I cut the out the cotton gusset with scissors in the ladies before I came to your office,” Sally blushed, as much with lust as with embarrassment.

Before Donald could reply, Sally eased aside the silky gusset of her knickers and lowered herself onto his rampant phallus and impaled herself on his rigid took and began to rock back and forth.

Her vagina was tight but well-lubricated as another freshet of her essence flowed into her sex. She put Donald’s hands on her waist and he dug his fingers into the sides of her satin knickers and held on as she rode him. He moved them down to her voluptuous thighs so he could feel the silkiness of her tights.

Sally’s cunt was like a fleshy vacuum tube that clung to his manhood as Sally dug her heels into his sides and rode him. She alternated between planting sloppy kisses on his lips and throwing back her head and yelping like a playful puppy. Donald was glad that they were alone in the building because she was making a racket.

He could feel his orgasm approaching and Donald pulled Sally’s face to his and kissed her deeply as his cock juddered inside her tight, wet minge and deposited his semen. Sally moaned into his mouth and her whole body shook like jelly, her tits swaying from side to side and her legs clamping tight along Donald’s flanks as she ground her fleshy mound into his pubis to put pressure on her clitoris. The feel of Donald’s rather prodigious dong pulsing and quivering inside her as he ejaculated was quite delightful.

When they had finished it was a little awkward as Sally struggled to dismount him and to Donald’s disdain, the contents of her vagina flooded out of her and soaked the front of his trousers which he’d had no time to take off. Sally giggled as she pushed her fat baps back into her brassiere and buttoned her blouse. She eased the sodden gusset of her knickers back into place and pulled down her skirt.

“There. No one would ever know that we’d just shagged on your sofa,” Sally giggled, forgetting that her makeup was smeared across her face, she’d misbuttoned her cardigan and the tops of her tights were wet with vaginal juices and the room reeked of sex.

“Yes, well, best we keep this to ourselves Sally,” Donald said as he guided her to the door.

“That was lovely Donald. I hope we can do it again sometime,” Sally looked up at him with adoration.

Donald patted her buxom arse on the way out and said they would have to see what happens.

Sally took to wearing nylon stockings to work because she knew that Donald liked them and she would drop by his office for a quickie at lunch time and after work. Donald liked to bend her over his big desk and fuck her with his hand over her mouth because she was so loud. He liked the feel of her fat arse pressing into him while he shagged her with her knickers on. But Donald eventually tired of her and she made a terrible scene in the office when Donald told her it was over and Gillian Snodgrass had to intervene and eventually let Sally go with severance pay and an excellent reference.

“I told you to go out and explore the world. Find something exotic to tickle your fancy before you remarry. Not to start shagging the office girls!” Gillian Snodgrass scolded Donald with vexatious candour.

“For god sake Donald don’t turn out to be your father. Find your pleasures elsewhere!” Gillian closed the door quite vigorously behind her when she left his office.

Donald knew that Gillian was right. Shagging any of the girls at work was just stupid and he would probably end up on the wrong side of a law suit where he to continue. But shagging women within his social class was unsatisfying as he’d found out with Vivian Huxtable. The excitement soon diminished and they all reminded him of Deirdre. Not that there was a shortage of women in those circles who wouldn’t jump into bed with him given a bit of effort on his part, but that wasn’t what he was looking for.

It was at this time that Donald was approached by the senior partner, Sir Stanley Price, who asked a favour.

“A friend of mine from Harrow, you know him from the club, the Earl of Mansfield, Dickie Singleton. Well his son Miles is in a bit of a sticky wicket,” Stanley said over pink gins in a quiet corner of the Grosvenor Club.

“Seems the lad was sowing his wild oats so to speak, like we all did when we were younger, and anyway, the brunt of it is he was caught giving one to a prostitute down a back alley near Saint James’s Square,” Stanley guffawed and looked around to ensure they were not being overheard.

“Dickie might have got the charges dropped or at least reduced, him being an Earl and all but the bloody Labour Party backroom boys know about it and they’re pushing for a prosecution,” Stanley studied the end of his cigar with concern.

“Well he won’t be the first of the peerage to be tried for getting his leg over a lady of the night. Can’t imagine that he’ll be getting more than a fine and most will think him Jack the Lad,” Donald chuckled.

“Well the sticky wicket old boy is that the lady of the night he was caught sowing his wild oats with was actually a man dressed as woman and they have charged him with gross indecency with a male,” Sir Stanley blushed at having to say the words.

“Oh, I see,” Donald replied, although he didn’t really.

Donald knew about transvestites of course. As a young man at university he had performed in pantomimes where men invariably impersonated women and he knew of one particular chap who liked dressing up as a woman a little more than he probably should and he knew that a couple of his peers had taken advantage of the situation.

“Take the case Donald and get it sorted. It’s before Judge Rheingold who as you know is a cantankerous old bugger who has no time for pederasts; especially the sons of the entitled gentry,” Sir Stanley puffed his cigar and frowned.

Donald met with the future Earl of Mansfield, Miles Singleton and found him to be exactly that: entitled. He claimed to be guilty of procuring a prostitute but had no idea that ‘she’ was a ‘he’.

Donald found the co-accused, a mousy little man named Jimmy Bottle who worked at a grocer’s during the day and dallied as a sex worker at night under the name Wendy Wantsit, which Donald found crude but couldn’t help but chuckle at the entendre. Jimmy’s trial was separate to Miles’ as the charges were slightly different and it was to be Jimmy’s third appearance before a magistrate for soliciting and homosexual indecency.

The British judicial system is nothing like the American system as betrayed on TV. There are no continual interruptions with lawyers yelling ‘objection!’ or theatrical contrivances; councillors do not ‘approach the witness’. Most objections and motions have been dealt with before the case comes before the court. His Honour Judge Walter Rheingold was not one to condone such theatrics in his court. Under the Crown judicial system it is also permissible for counsellors to ‘lead the witness’ in order to establish the facts of the case.

The Crown prosecutor called into court the policeman who had witnessed the alleged crime and he stated that he had found Miles Singleton in an alley near Saint James’s Square, which was a known haunt for street prostitutes. Jimmy Bottle was on his knees before young Miles fellating him. Jimmy Bottle was known to police and had previous convictions for soliciting and committing homosexual acts in public, which at the time was still a criminal offence.

Under cross examination the policeman admitted that Jimmy Bottle was in fact dressed as a woman and that was the only question that Donald asked of him. The public gallery was packed with the usual spectators who found such cases titillating and also with members of the Fleet Street press, mostly from the scandal sheets.

Donald addressed Miles Singleton in the dock and asked him about the evening in question and Miles admitted to drinking heavily in a nearby pub and then going to look for a prostitute to have sex with.

“And you had no idea that the lady that you had solicited for sexual services was in fact a man?” Donald asked his witness.

“I had no idea My Lord, I thought she was a woman,” Miles answered confidently.

“The act itself did not require the woman to remove her undergarments?” Donald asked and was scowled at by the judge but the question was allowed.

“No My Lord; she remained fully clothed,” Miles addressed his answer to the judge as he had been instructed.

The Crown Prosecutor went after Miles and basically called him a liar and inferred that there was no way that Miles could not have known that Wendy Wantsit was in fact a man.

Donald had only one other witness.

“I call Mister James Bottle My Lord,” Donald’s voice boomed across the court.

Jimmy Bottle was not sitting in the court because as a witness providing evidence before the Crown he was not allowed to observe proceedings until he had given his evidence.

Wendy Wantsit entered the court wearing a stylish skirt-suit, her skirt cut just above the knee so that her lovely legs were on display for all to see. She was wearing high heels, full makeup and a blonde beehive do and looked absolutely stunning. There was no one in the court who could with all honesty not admit that she looked anything other than an attractive woman.

The gallery erupted and some of the scandal sheet boys began taking pictures which was totally against court convention. The judge banged his gavel and called for order, the bailiff intercepted Wendy Wantsit before she could get to the witness stand but by then she had paraded herself before the court and it was obvious to all that she was a very convincing female impersonator and if she hadn’t been called to the stand under the name ‘James Bottle’ no one would have known that she wasn’t woman.

“Close the court! Crown prosecutor and defence counsel to my chambers NOW!” Judge Walter Rheingold rapped his gavel repeatedly.

In the confines of his chambers His Honour Judge Walter Rheingold dismissed any part of the indictment that referred to homosexuality and under instructions from his client Donald agreed to a plea of guilty on the single charge of soliciting a woman for prostitution and the fine was paid that very day.

Wendy Wantsit became a minor celebrity in the scandal sheets for a brief period which didn’t help Jimmy Bottle at trial and he was sent down for twelve months because it was his third offence. It was rumoured that Jimmy made a tidy sum during his incarceration, bringing out Wendy Wantsit in the evenings after lights out to service the inmates whilst the prison officers turned a blind eye.

Miles Singleton’s solicitation conviction created a mild scandal in the papers but to his chums and family he was the victim of an infamous female impersonator who had deceived him whilst he was under the influence of alcohol. The Earl of Mansfield was never mentioned in the press and the law firm of Cooper, Price and Waterman pocketed a tidy sum.

Julie Clifford

The man was handsome enough and was specific with his requests. He sat naked on a wooden chair in Julie’s workroom while she slowly lifted her skirt inches from his face.

“Stop!” the man ordered when her skirt got to mid-thigh.

“Kiss me!” the man hissed.

Julie leaned down, placed her mouth on his and began to kiss him, still holding up her skirt. The man had thick sensuous lips and Julie kissed him softly, intrigued by the little game they were playing. The man didn’t return the kiss but allowed Julie to press her lipsticked lips on his and slide the tip of her tongue along them seductively. The man’s cock was an iron bar dripping a continual flow of pre-ejaculate from the tip.

“Ok, continue,” the man turned his head away to break the kiss and then watched Julie continue to glide her skirt up her thighs which were swathed in black seamed stockings.

When the dark shadow welt came into view the man swallowed hard and then swallowed harder still when the darker welt appeared with the silver snaps of Julie’s garters clipped to them.

“Stop!” the man ordered and Julie did so.

Julie thought that there was something extremely erotic and sensual about the game they were playing.

The man reached out and gently stroked the dark welts on Julie’s stockings. He toyed with her garter snaps flicking them gently against her thighs. He ran his hands up and down her legs relishing the feel of the cool, silky nylon on his fingertips.

Julie sighed and shuddered. The man’s gentle manipulation of her legs was very arousing; the feel of his warm fingers on her flesh glazed in her satiny black stockings was like butterflies ticking her. She looked down and saw that the man had leaked more precum and it was running in little runnels down his shaft; the blue veins pulsing as the man’s heart pumped blood to where he needed it most at this time.

The man had insisted that Julie not tuck or tape and her cock uncoiled as it began to stiffen, pressing against the transparent black knickers that the man had brought for her to wear.

“Kiss me!” the man ordered again and Julie leaned in to acquiesce to his demand.

This time the man parted his lips a little and Julie was able to put the tip her tongue just inside his mouth but no further. It was a tease because she actually wanted to kiss the man properly. She wanted to rub her body against him, she wanted to take his engorged manhood in her hand and she wanted to put him in her mouth so that she could feel the power of his weapon as she suckled it, swallowing the sweet pre-seminal fluid as it trickled from the eye of his cock.

Julie seldom became invested in her punters. She was now a seasoned prostitute with a string of regulars and a clutch of drop-ins who had found her tart cards and called her for appointments. The sex was simply work and she hardly ever became aroused during the acts. Kiss, cuddle, cane, paddle, spank, wank and if the punter was right and had the money then suck – that was her stock in trade

Her skirt began to tent as Julie reached full tumescence. The man ignored this and continued to kiss her and play with her thighs. When his wrist brushed against her erect penis the man yanked his hand away as if he’d been burned. Julie was disappointed but not surprised; there were plenty of her customers that did not want to see her penis, however the man’s kisses became more passionate.

Finally the man stood, rising out of his chair. He picked up Julie, who was probably half his weight, and carried her to the bed where he lay her down and pulled down her skirt and had her lie chastely. Then the whole ritual started again with the soft, almost emotionless kisses as Julie slowly raised her skirt, until her thighs were fully exposed and the man was straddling her, kissing her with fervour and once again Julie was bulging her knickers and tenting her skirt.

The man lay down on top of her and hugged her; his bloated phallus pressing against her knickers. She could feel the trickle of precum soak into her panties as the man writhed around on top of her.

His mouth found hers and this time he opened wide and thrust his tongue into hers. The man was big and muscled and smelled of soap and cologne and he completely enveloped the little transvestite lying beneath him. He kissed her mouth and her cheeks and neck, almost tenderly at first and then he returned to her mouth and his kisses became passionate and he began to rut against her.

Julie could feel the man’s cock pressing on hers through her knickers and it felt so wonderful. The man had obviously got over his aversion to her cock. She reached up to put her hands around his neck and tried her best to lock her legs around his torso and rub her stocking-sheathed limbs on his bare tender skin.

The man sighed and pressed himself harder against Julie, kissing her frenetically as he ground himself against her body. Julie was delighted by the feel of the man’s cock rubbing on hers, her knickers wet with precum. She enjoyed the man’s sensuous kisses but she was a little breathless and felt imprisoned by the weight of his muscled body.

The man made no effort to take his weight off her. He’d told her what he wanted: the chair tease and that he wanted to lie on top of her and dry hump her while he kissed her, which she’d agreed to. Compared to some of the requests she received it was rather benign. Julie had miscalculated the size of the man but he wasn’t really hurting her and it did feel nice and he was good looking and polite.

The man’s cock slipped inside her knickers and their penises where rubbing flesh to flesh. Julie didn’t mind, although she expected that the man would pull away given the reaction he’d had when his wrist brushed her cock earlier but the man seemed to be enjoying himself, certainly there was no reduction in the flow of pre-ejaculate that drooled from his cock.

Julie was quite enjoying the experience of having a man on top of her, kissing her and frotting her. Her cock was also leaking pre-seminal fluid and was tingling with delight. The man was squeezing her buttocks through her knickers while he ferociously rubbed his cock on hers.

The man jabbed at her and missed and his cock slipped between her legs and the man raised her bottom off the bed so his cock could slide between her buttocks. Julie began to panic. She made it quite clear to all her punters that she did not offer anal sex.

The man’s prodigious cock slid along the crease of her perineum, the soft white pillows of her buttocks cushioning his hard cock. He pressed her buttocks together and humped the soft, slippery, warm channel between her cheeks. Julie batted at his back with her fists and scissored her legs against him in frustration but the man humped away at her, his cock dangerously close to her sphincter.

Did it feel wonderful lying underneath this man while he held her tight and pressed his penis between her pillowy arse cheeks eliciting little tingles of delight every time his glans pressed on her sphincter? Of course it did; it felt wonderful!

Was Julie terrified that the man was going to pierce her anus either intentionally or unintentionally? You bet your best knickers she was but it just felt so wonderful to be smothered by this big handsome man who was kissing her, squeezing her buttocks as he humped them, with her knicker-clad cock rubbing on his hard belly while he did it.

The man began to whimper and Julie felt his cock shudder and suddenly her bottom was soaked with warm syrupy jism and Julie held him tight and scissored her nylon-clad legs against him, raking his flanks with her heels as she released against his hard, flat belly. The room suddenly reeked of spunk.

Julie clung to the man, returning his desperate kisses as he pinned her to the bed and fucked her buttocks. At least once the tip of his glans pierced her sphincter but only enough to open it a little and when he did Julie screamed but it was a scream of trepidation and delight rather than abject terror. She had to admit that it felt nice as she flooded her knickers with her seed and the man continued to spurt his issue between her legs.

When he was finished the man lay on top of Julie and stroked and coddled her, whispering endearments, telling her how beautiful she was. He left her sated and exhausted on the bed, soaking in his semen and her own juices. Julie was too tired to see him to the door but found later that he had left a decent tip.

Later that night in bed she recalled the handsome young man who had stroked her knicker-covered penis while his finger was buried in her bum and compared it to the feel of the big man’s cock thrusting between her buttocks and at least twice accidently slipping inside her sphincter just a little. She also recalled what Bella had told her: “You earn real money on your back.”

Food for thought but Julie was still adamant that’s she wouldn’t be doing that any time soon.

However the next day her curiosity got the better of her and Julie overcame her fear and had Julian purchase a dildo from a Soho adult shop for Julie to use. She experimented with it over the next few days and discovered a few things. First she must douche before using it, second she must use plenty of lubricant, third, it needed to be inserted slowly, and finally, if she positioned it just right she could ejaculate hands free.

The dildo was a wonderful toy but Julie still had no intention of letting a man mount her. The very thought of it sent waves of trepidation through her. There was big difference between Julie slowly pushing a small lubricated dildo inside her clean anus and manipulating it to please herself, than some brutish man pounding away at her tight puckered bud!

Donald Cooper

When Donald Cooper had met with Jimmy Bottle and told him of his plan to present Wendy Wantsit in court Jimmy’s first response had been to ask what was in it for him.

“One hundred guineas paid in full by the Earl of Mansfield but through our law firm’s account,” Donald had replied.