Part 6

And so it came to be that Dolly moved into Number 7 Saville Row with me. Neither the housekeeper, nor the manservant raised an eyebrow over it for which I was exceedingly grateful.

Now I had done some introspective thinking around this time and concluded that I was not a very outgoing personage. I had few, if any friends. I had but few acquaintances; and worse I was perfectly comfortable with the situation. With Dolly as my daily and evening companion my sex life was more than enjoyable. For she was a sexual acrobat, capable of performing the most salacious acts upon either of us; for example, one evening out of boredom she had me watch as she twisted her torso so that she was able to perform cunnilingus on herself. I had witnessed women lick and suck their breasts before, but this... this was a spectacular sight. Admittedly, I allowed myself to be goaded into trying to take my prick into my mouth, but could not manage to do so. Dolly informed me that it was possible, but one was required to be extremely flexible to accomplish the deed.

Aside from our daily sexual excursions, I made a decision to teach Dolly a few things about the world of business. We began with my teaching her to make change for imaginary purchases, with my handing her a five pound note for an item said to cost 2 sovereigns. At first she was often quite wrong in making change and I realized she was guessing at the figure. But she caught on fast. From there I taught her how to order product from large merchants and even manufacturers. The idea behind this instruction was so that some day in the future Dolly, with my backing, would open a business of her own. I had no idea what business it would be, but had under consideration dress shops, millinery shops, or other businesses that catered to women. This of course was not a unique concept on my part. Many men, on parting with their mistress set them up in a business that allowed the woman to live well and prosper as she grew older. The mistresses were thusly able to find decent husbands and hold a respectable place in London's society.

I too, underwent a type of change during this same period, as I received a letter one day, from the father of a former classmate at Oxford full of jabber and balderdash, but for one item. There was a hidden question contained within the letter, or so I thought, that was a gentle query as to the possibility of my willingness to become a member of the House of Lords. I was flattered, of course but soon concluded it was my new found wealth that prompted the query. For I was no one of import; nor did I know anyone of import. What did I know of making law, or of ruling an Empire? However, I made it my business to visit Parliament and garner the vital functions of that institution the following day.

It is very difficult to gain access to the building during the session of the House, as no one is admitted without a written order from a peer. I had taken precautions and obtained the name of the Earl of Jersey upon a bit of foolscap, and therefore walked boldly through scores of policemen and guardsmen into the presence of this body of hereditary law-makers. For it was guarded as if from an infuriated mob. I was pleased to find that the British building of the House of Lords has one of the finest interiors in Europe. I remember the impression it made upon me the first time I took my seat in its Gallery. I fancied myself gazing at a scene from the Arabian Nights. One thing I found most interesting was that in contrasting the House of Lords with the Senate of the United States was that in the Senate a man must be possessed of some sort of talent or he cannot secure an election to that place, while in England the peers are born to their position as law-makers. Of course they are as likely to be men of moderate abilities as common people, and generally speaking rather more so.

What interested me the most was the really talented men of the House of Lords - with very few exceptions - are plebeian; men who have been bribed over from the ranks of the people in the House of Commons by the offer of titles. Here lies a great secret in regard to English Reform. The nobility know exceedingly well when and how to bribe. Harry Brougham becomes Lord Brougham when his talents have become a terror to the aristocracy, and from that moment he is an aristocrat. Men of talent cannot withstand the temptations of office and titles, except in a few instances, among which Richard Cobden is an illustrious instance. Known as the great Corn-Law opposer, the triumph that he achieved over the Corn Law was a heavy blow against the aristocracy, and they felt it to be such. He is one of the noblest of men, and is very democratic in his opinions and sympathies. No other man in England is so popular with the masses. There is little doubt he would have been given a title for the asking, if there had been any hope of winning him to the side of the aristocracy. But that would not be happening. So it should come as no surprise that there are few really great men in the House of Lords; that single fact convinced me that I wanted no part of Parliament whatsoever, even if it meant passing on a title of importance in the United Kingdom.

My visit to Parliament had an unexpected reward. I returned home late and found Dolly agitated and perplexed. After questioning her for some thirty minutes I learned that Dolly had feared I was out consorting with other prostitutes and felt that I would be bringing them home and casting her out into the street.

I am ashamed to admit that I did not diminish her fears, but maintained a close lip as to my whereabouts that evening. This produced surprising results from my charming mistress.

"Ave you ever put it up a woman's arse?" Dolly simpered as she tickled my ear.

"Is that a pleasant variation?" I asked her.

"Indeed it is gov'nor, indeed it is. But not every woman can do it, yer know. It takes a bit o' talent, oh yeah. A girl's got to know how to let that big eel of yours slid into her or else she suffers greatly. Yes indeed, she'll suffer greatly."

Feeling sufficiently flattered for one day, I readily succumbed to her wishes and said, "Let's wash off a bit first shall we?" I've been among some vermin this night and I don't want to pass their smells off onto you."

Dolly's eyes sparkled with relief and happiness at that comment and she raced off to procure a basin with warm water from the kettle over the fire. Soon thereafter, I took the lovely redheaded vixen in my arms and kissed her passionately. She smelled of soft soap and lavender as her tongue entered my mouth and her dainty hand went to my crotch and encouraged my prick to rise up like a cobra from a basket on a Calcutta street corner.

I held her close so as to enhance the plush feel of her body and the rounded softness of her arse against me. Her hand continued its work on my shaft and when it was fully engorged Dolly dropped to her knees and unbuttoned my pants. Withdrawing my manhood, she gave it a hearty squeeze and lied, saying, "It is so huge; I'll never get it in me mouth."

In a husky voice, filled with lust and desire, I croaked, "I'll wager you cannot take it in that tiny orifice of a mouth my sweet."

"For 'ow much?" says she.

"Ten quid?" I offer.

"Yer on, duc... I mean gov'nor."

That said, her mouth promptly absorbed most of my knobby cockhead whilst stroking my shaft with her hand. I distinctly heard her purr like a kitten as she slathered her tongue over my prick, coating it with her saliva.

"I don't want to spend this way," I told her.

"I know gov'nor, yer wants to empty it in me arse and that's just ducky with me," and then she cackled with lewd laughter. I assumed it was the use of the word ducky that caused it, but I never bothered to ask her about it as I was too horny and not of a mind to put off a rousing arse fuck.

With Dolly still holding tightly to my rock hard prick, I led her so that she was facing the foot of the bed.

"Bend over, Dolly, my love."

"Take the iron framework in your hands. That's it, very good." As Dolly gripped the antique iron in her fists, I spread her legs further apart. I saw that we did not line up properly. That is my prick and her arse were not properly aligned, and I pushed a stool over to her and had her stand on it. Perfect.

I reached between her legs and dug in softly, spreading her flesh until her slit was clearly visible through her red bush. As I beheld her secret glory I was reminded that the gentlemen of the day often referred to the Ace of Spades not as the playing card, but as a reference to the triangular bush covering a black haired cunt. And so I began to think of Dolly as my own Ace of Hearts.

Unable to resist doing so, I reached out and pinched those fleshy folds, making Dolly cry out.

"Terribly sorry my love," I murmured as I pulled them open exposing her hot interior to my naked eye.

Dolly's tits were hanging a bit, but mostly pressing against the mattress and her arse was wide and lush. After kissing each arse cheek I sent one then two fingers into her cunt. I had discovered she loved a good frigging as long as my thumb paid court to her clitoris. In return, she reached behind her and found my prick and pulled on it until I was rock hard again.

Satisfied that I was ready for her, I gripped her arse and hefted it up a bit so that her brown puckered orifice was directly aligned with my prick.

"Make it good and wet, now mind yer, good and wet, or it'll make your cock sorely," said she. And I listened to her advice for I was the novice here and not she. I spat in my palm and rubbed the saliva over my shaft with care, then repeated the process as it was drying as fast as I applied it.

"Now you'll be putting a finger up there to open it some," Dolly said and I did so.

"Oh fuck, that feels good. Try a little more spittle in there, gov'nor."

I spat several times ensuring I had plenty of lubrication and returned my finger to her arsehole. This time I felt with certainty a thick, strong muscular ring, which I presumed to be the anus itself. Once past this ring, I encountered what had to be the soft sides of her rectum. I quickly found that I had to keep my finger in this far or risk losing my lodging as her muscles would contract and expel my finger. At any rate, I pushed on and listened as Dolly grunted contentedly and wriggled her arse demonstrating her acceptance of my intrusion thus far.

I curled the finger and flicked it back and forth and she began to moan in matching rhythm to the flicks.

"You've done this before 'aven't you?" Dolly groaned as I flicked her once again.

"No," I replied honestly.

"You kin add more of 'em, yer want too," said she.

I pulled my finger out, spat on another finger and wormed that in as well. Then for some reason I pulled them out with another soft pop and commenced rubbing my fingertips over her tiny winking pucker.

"Put 'em back, please!" Dolly crowed.

"Don't you fancy this?" I asked.

"Tis nice, but I'd rather the fingers in there!" she all but gasped.

I complied, sending one slimy finger up into her until I felt her anal sphincter neatly sucking it in; felt it flex hard after the first knuckle slipped in; then I wiggled it in to the hilt.

"That's good... very good," she gasped and wriggled her arse. "Now another, add another... no, put two more in there, I can take 'em, don't worry none, love."

I added them as she requested, stretching her willing arse further and further until I had all three fingers well up her throbbing arsehole.