We are all excitement as we have come to spend the season in London. The boys, good country boys, have never seen such buildings, such crowds, such brouhaha and they are beside themselves with joy at the prospects of an extended stay in the city.
It was all Bentley's idea as I had eschewed the pleasures of London society since my husband's death, mainly because the whole round of dull parties and even duller people was dreary to me and now that I had the excuse not to participate, I thought I would take the opportunity to stay at my beloved Heaton.
Besides, we have so much excitement of our own here. The young neighbouring Lord wasted no time in visiting me as we had discussed and I wasted no time in introducing him to the Masturbatorium, so he now feels he can come to the house whenever he wants, go into the glass-fronted room, remove his clothes, put on his blindfold and knock upon the glass.
The first time he used the Masturbatorium, he was so eager I thought he was going to push clear through the glass as he strained his beautiful penis so far through the hole that his naked body was squashed up against the window in a most exciting way. I relieved him that first time, licking and sucking and coaxing a beautifully creamy load from his lovely member of which I drank every drop and since then I have shared him with Sarah, sometimes the two of us working on him together so he could feel two tongues, one on his balls -- which I have persuaded him to shave before he comes to see us so that our tongues can better taste him -- the other on his phallus.
And as the summer has come to Heaton, the young men are wearing less and less as they do their work, meaning I have constant access to the sight of shirtless boys, their bodies glowing with sweat, through every window. And, of course, after a hard day's labour, there is nothing they like so much as their turn in the Masturbatorium and so Sarah and I have found ourselves with an almost constant supply of juvenile sperm to sup on.
As far as my beloved Bentley goes, I was concerned, I must own, that after our night together things might be different but the most excellent man has shown no signs of over-familiarity, no jealousy when he has watched me enjoying other bodies than his own and I am certain that no one in the household has the slightest suspicion of our special connexion.
It was as Sarah and I sat on the lawn under umbrellas to shield us from the sun with our needlework, watching several of the young men bathe naked in the lake for our pleasure, that Bentley approached me, carrying a crystal pitcher of lemonade and two glasses with ice from the ice-house. He brought forth the suggestion of the summer season but I informed him I was unenthusiastic at the prospect of meeting the same oppressive figures now that my life had taken a much lighter turn.
'And if I should take the liberty of making some introductions, my lady?' he suggested, saucy indeed for a butler, to suggest that his connections were somehow superior to my own. I looked over at Sarah who raised a single eyebrow to communicate that, as an idea, it was at least worth thinking over and so I told Bentley to meet me later to explain how he thought our season would unfold and which of the household should accompany us.
It was as I was combing out my hair by my bedroom window, looking out over the golden hour as it gilded my trees and lake and rolling hills that I heard his knock on the door and turned to see that most beloved of faces ready to elaborate his plan for the summer to me.
As you, kind reader, are aware, I can never be alone with Bentley more than five minutes without the burning need to taste that beautiful member and, since our night together, feel it deep inside me, so it was only after I had feasted on his veiny penis and he had unloaded a hefty load of young sperm inside me that we relaxed and started to speak of the season.
'I am aware of my lady's London house,' he told me, as I held his shrinking penis tenderly in my hand, 'from my other seasons in London. And while I am cognizant of my lady's reluctance to take part in the usual round of teas and balls, I think I have some addresses -- perfectly respectable addresses -- that might afford my lady more entertainment.'
I was intrigued. My own ideas of respectability had been transformed since Bentley had arrived in my house but, as a lady of quality, I did not want to jeopardise my reputation by attending inferior gatherings. Bentley did his best to reassure me that he would in fact be able to introduce to me to superior households run by discreet society women with the same tastes and predilections as myself. The fact that many of these women were titled, some widowed, some estranged from husbands banished to faraway country estates, piqued my interest and decided me that we should in fact make an adventure of our summer.
The boys of the household were in a state of near frenzy at the idea of going into London, so much so that Sarah and I had to calm several of them down at the window of the Masturbatorium until our bellies were quite full of young semen. The only question was who should be left behind. It was decided that the cook and the boys of the kitchen should remain, to maintain the house and watch over it, and that they should be allowed to invite relatives from their home villages to stay as long as decorum was observed and discretion about the activities of the house kept secret on pain of instant dismissal.
And so it was with much gaiety that trunks were packed, inns en route reserved and new orders for dresses sent ahead with Bentley and a couple of the boys, whose job it would be to open the Berkeley Square house and make sure it was ready to receive me.
The journey was a long and bumpy one but with Sarah and I in a jolly mood and with Daniel at his place as footman with the front of his breeches visible to me through the little round window as I travelled, no matter the countryside, there was always something appealing for me to gaze at. And, clever boy, Daniel knew he was being spied upon and so kept that delicious member at least half excited at all times knowing how it would please his mistress.
The inn that had been taken for us by Bentley on his journey to London was humble but clean and the rooms on the upper floor all connected by doors meaning that, as long as we all locked the doors to our rooms, we could socialise quite unobserved. And so it was that, after a hearty, if greasy, dinner of lamb chops served with a not unacceptable pint of wine, I retired to my room and bid Sarah join me for my undressing. As we talked of the excitement to come and of how well the young men looked in their livery, she undid my hair, removed my travelling clothes and handed me a warm cloth to cleanse my private parts, wondering all the while what Daniel, Stephenson and Smythe were doing in the room just the other side of the door.
'Let us spy upon them, my lady,' said Sarah with some excitement. And so it was that we went to the door -- old and with gaps as in many country inns -- and pressed our faces to the slits in the door. Stephenson was seated on a seat, naked from his waist down, with Smythe crouching on a stall between his parted thighs. I wondered what they could be doing until I heard a tinkling of metal upon pottery and realised Smythe had a bowl of water at his feet and was giving Stephenson his regular shaving as I demand smoothness from his penis, testicles and anus at all times. Smythe's focus was intent while Stephenson was keeping as still as possible so as not to risk injury from the razor that was being wielded by the untrained hand.
Daniel, meanwhile, was on his bed beyond them, naked apart from his stockings, playing with an already hard member as he read something from a pamphlet he was holding. 'Listen to this,' he said to Stephenson and Smythe as he read... "'London is full of harlots, most of them riddled with deadly diseases ready to infect the unsuspecting young man eager to explore them..." Not for us, eh, boys?' he said, looking over at Stephenson, who had struggled against an erection but with no success as Smythe fondled his balls and then got him to open his buttocks by leaning back and taking the backs of his knees. 'Not for us. We will have nothing but fine ladies to coo over our cocks...'
At that I threw the door open, surprising all three young men, who, it transpired, had been unaware that their room was adjoining my own. Luckily, Smythe had the razor safely in the bowl of water at that moment and so no injury was incurred to the lovely Stephenson's person.
'Come in here immediately!' I commanded, only Sarah realising that the anger in my voice was feigned. The boys started to grab for clothes to cover their modesty. 'Immediately! Leave that!' I said and turned heel to my room.
The young men came in sheepishly, Daniel, his penis still hard from reading about London's harlots; Stephenson half-way to erection from the attentions Smythe had been giving him and Smythe himself fully dressed and blushing deep crimson.
'I do not expect to hear the language I just heard coming from your room,' I said in the most severe of tones.
'No, my lady,' they said, almost in union.
'I was just warning the boys that...' started Daniel.
'I am quite aware of what you were saying,' I interrupted. 'I could hear you. And there will be no fraternising with any women in London unless I expressly demand it of you. Is that understood?'
'Yes, my lady,' they said, again almost in union.
'Now, Daniel, get into my bed to warm it,' I said at which the naked young man trotted in front of me, pulled back the coverings on the bed and inserted his body, even though the evening was warm enough not to need any warmings of any beds. 'Stephenson, undress Smyth... I don't see why he alone among you should preserve his modesty.'
Clearly feeling very uncomfortable doing this, Stephenson undid first the shirt, which he pulled over Smythe's head, then the breeches, which he bent to peel over Smythe's thighs until the boy stood in nothing but his stockings.
Then, ordering Daniel out of my bed and bidding him to fold the coverings and place them on the table by the window, and, wearing nothing but my night garments, I took my place on the enormous bed and patted the space beside me for the now naked Smythe to take. He sat beside me. I patted the other side looking at Stephenson and he circled the bed and took his place. And then, nudging Smythe's legs across with my foot, bid Daniel to take his place amongst us.
'Now, boys, to make sure you sleep sensibly, I am going to watch over you,' I said, nodding a disappointed Sarah out of the room with my head. And so with my grey hair across the pillow and surrounded by young flesh radiating the heat of the night, we slept. After a fashion. With four of us on the bed, all changing position and stretching and curling in sleep, I spent most of the night watching those beautiful bodies in the moonlight that streamed through the window, reaching out to touch first a buttock, then a scrotum, to take a penis in my hand until it hardened even in sleep, to explore an anus left available by sleep's immodesty...
As the night went on, couched among the bodies of these beauties, their thighs sometimes across my own, I stole precum for my lips, I smeared the musky smell of young anuses under my nose, I luxuriated in the smell of clean sweat from under their arms and slept but fitfully with dreams -- fulfillable dreams! -- of young men entering me like Bentley had entered me and pumping me full of their young sperm, flitting through my head. Sometimes I awoke with a finger inside my sex or with lips on my nipple but the young men did this inadvertently while sleeping... or at least feigning to sleep.
When I awoke, the boys were still asleep in all their nakedness. Sarah slipped in, just to take in the sight of three delightful lads, slumbering, all three penises hard against their bellies with the early morning ardour of young men. She gave me a look as if to say 'what beauty, my lady' then clapped her hands sharply three times, the young men waking and, realising where they were and with whom, covered themselves and escaped back to their own rooms.
