The lady's journal continues, but before we return to her writings on Gulliver, we consider the possibilities of who might be the actual author of the text. Initial hopes of finding the author easily among the lists of major contributors to Lorbrulgrud University of Brobdingnag were quickly dashed upon discovery that a great fire had destroyed all records of donations at that time. While other's had compiled histories of the university and chronicled some of the supporters, no definite names could be singled out.
It seems, while experts can corroborate many of the facts described in the extended journals, no one was willing or able to divulge the name of the author. So, while I can attest the facts described in the journal are true, there is no real proof. As the lady said in her journal, Gulliver was adventurous, a fact we will soon see proven in a first hand narrative. The question as to whether Gulliver's promise to fuck the woman like she had never been fucked before is meant in a good way or bad way remains to be seen from the lady's account.
Aye, we awoke to a beautiful day, a beautiful day made more beautiful by the magnificent sight in my magnifying glass. I spent the early morning watching Gulliver sleep in the nude, his muscles at rest, his cock soft, his balls relaxed in their sack. Later, as he began to stir a bit I noticed his cock coming to life well before him, so when he did awaken, he was already fully hard.
I provided a tea cup with warm water to allow him to bathe and then shaved a few tiny slivers from my soap for him. He washed himself unabashedly, as if totally oblivious to my prurient gaze and even went as far as soaping up his hands and stroking his cock with one while toying with his nipple with the other. Stopping well short of any climax, I later learned he was just working himself up so later, when he did come, he would leave more of himself with me.
