Week 1, Hilary, Oxford.
It was Thursday, Week One when the invitation came. Albert looked at the envelope, and it certainly indicated wealth, so whomever William and Lydia are, they have money, Albert saw. He was expecting it, but not this week. Melba told him that she had written a friend of hers to invite him for an informal dinner. His curiosity peaked with the invitation in his hands.
"Mr Albert Riley is cordially invited to dinner and genuine frivolity on Saturday, 24th of January, 1903. Hors d'oeuvres served at 6:30 pm and Dinner at 7:00 pm. RSVP, Telephone: 68. Dress: Informal." And an address of Mr and Mrs William Calthorp.
Albert knew there were fewer than 100 telephones in Oxford and that certainly signified wealth, as well as social position. They had a telephone at home, but it was only put there as a business expense for Father when he was home. Otherwise the cost would have been prohibitive. While he had personally made two telephone calls in his life, both to Father's office in the City, this was going to be something of an adventure. Making his way to the Dean's Office, the only place he knew that has a telephone, he patiently waited only to be told that he would have to find another way to respond, the telephone was not to be used for such a frivolous reason.
Quickly, Albert penned a note of acceptance, jumped on his bicycle, found his way to the residence and slid the note into the letter box. Unfortunately, it began to rain before he made it back to his lodgings. Wet through, he quickly dried himself, changed and warmed by the wood stove in the common room. Sitting in the warmth, he held his book, but did no reading, dreaming of the last two nights before returning to Oxford. He wanted to stay, with Mother and Melba, explore sexuality a lot more with them, but his studies had to come first.
He found out what the French called a "soixante-neuf", a sixty-nine, was much to his delight. Having his cock sucked by either Mother or Melba was good, but to be licking their slits at the same time, that was real pleasure. He had discovered that he loved giving his women pleasure, loved taking it, but their pleasure was more important than his own. He could climax any time, but it was important to him that they did so first. Perhaps this is really what being a gentleman was about, consideration of the pleasure of your partner before your own. Possibly. Having one under his tongue while the other was riding his cock was serious business, and hard work, and he found that he could delay the shooting of his seed with concentration and care.
Most importantly, he was missing touching Mother, holding her, feeling her wrapped around him, his prong buried deeply within her. Oh, he missed Melba too, but Mother was so very special. Fucking her was his love being expressed in a way he had never believed possible. Noise alerted him as other students raced in and gathered around the warm stove. The conversation distracted him from his musings, the legal discussions, the questioning of previous rulings, the understandings that those rulings gave the entire nation. Furthering of the Common Law, providing a framework in which the nation could live in peace. Overall Britain hadn't done too badly at that, there were periods of unrest, certainly, occasionally breaking into violence, but people usually preferred to allow Judges to determine a course forward, supported by Parliament.
Later that evening, Albert was preparing for bed and he was hit with an image of Mother. A memory deeply seared into his brain, he will never forget it. Melba, on her back, her hips raised by two pillows, with Mother between her legs, her face buried in Melba's crutch. From behind he could see every bit of Mother's full bum, skin creamy white and a swollen slit protruding between her legs as she balanced on her spread knees. He could see his forward movement, his dick seeking entry into her, then sliding into her as deep as he could go. The slap of his hips on her fleshy buttocks. His cock reared and he wanted to touch it, to pull it to relive that experience of shooting into Mother's cunt and the pleasure it gave him.
He didn't want to do it himself, no matter the urge to do so. He knew there were other boys in the dormitory who would do it for him, but they would expect reciprocation, something he wasn't prepared to do. He quietened down and tried to sleep, but sleep was just not forthcoming. The memories of the last days before returning to Oxford were running through his brain. Mother, being good to her word and not wearing underwear, making it easy for him to touch her whenever he wanted. Melba distracting Winnie so he and Mother could fuck, several times in the day. In one way he was glad to be back at Oxford, then he would not disappoint Mother. Eventually, the darkness took him and in the morning, he woke with a rock hard cock, dreaming of Mother again.
Friday slowly passed, and Saturday was filled with researching another paper. Looking at the clock, Albert was startled to find he only had forty minutes to get to his lodgings, wash, shave, to be on time for this invitation dinner. All he really knew from Melba and Mother was that Lydia Calthorp was someone he should get to know, not be surprised by anything she does, and to remain completely discrete.
Pedalling furiously, he made it to the given address in time, using the doorknocker at 6:29 pm, according to his fob watch. The door opened and a young woman fair haired, not tall, but quite attractive looked at him and asked, "Hello, and who may you be?"
"Good evening," Albert said as casually as he could, "I'm Albert Riley, my invitation." He presented her with the card he received two days ago.
"Oh, Mr. Riley," the woman smiled, "Mother told me you were expected. Come in."
Albert passed by her, and she immediately beckoned him to put his coat on one of the hooks on his right. The floor was highly polished dark oak with a bench seat to the left, a short rug ended at a door leading to the inner house. "And if you look you will see some footwear at the end of the bench, please, take your shoes off and put a pair of those slippers on. Mother doesn't like mud being traipsed through the house."
Mother, so not a maid then, well, she certainly wasn't dressed as a maid, Albert thought as he unlaced his shoes and put these odd slippers on. They were large, with two bands in a V-shape and no heel. He looked at them, not sure what they were.
"Yes, they are very clever aren't they," the woman said, "Father saw these on a trip to Japan a few years ago, he was most impressed. He purchased several boxes of them. They are quite comfortable actually and they fit between the big and second toes, just pull them on and your socks will move. Oh, I'm Victoria by the way, Mister Riley."
"Pleasure to meet you, Victoria, Albert, please." Albert pulled the slippers on and stood, surprised they were comfortable.
"Come on, everyone is in the Drawing room," Victoria said, flashing a smile as she entered the house proper, "I'll introduce you."
Albert followed her, shutting the entrance hall door behind him, down the hallway, Victoria turned to the left, into a room. Albert was immediately taken by the decor, Asian, he thought, some Chinese and Japanese decorations and others he did not recognize.
"Everyone, this is Albert," Victoria said, "Albert, this is my brother Henry," a taller man but likely in his mid twenties, who held out his hand and nodded as Albert took it. "His wife, Susan," a lithe, willowy, dark haired woman maybe a year or two older than Albert, who smiled a kind smile, but her eyes held a completely different look, one that Albert had not seen before.
"Here is my father, William."
William had stood when Albert entered the room. He held his hand out and shook Albert's. "Welcome to my humble abode, Albert, Melba says some very nice things about you."
"Thank you sir, nice to meet you too. And Melba is too kind."
"No, she is not," came a voice behind him, "She is the best reader of human character I have ever met. Anything she says about you is completely accurate and totally reliable." Albert turned and saw a tall woman, taller than her husband, not as tall as her son, blonde and beautiful, like Mother, likely in her late thirties. "I'm Lydia," she said, "And you are going to have to tell me all about Melba and Cathryn, your mother."
"Very nice to meet you, Mrs-"
"Oh Lydia, please, Albert, try not to be so formal. It is, after all, an informal evening."
"Thank you, Lydia"
"Now, how are Cathryn and Melba?"
For the next half hour Albert told them how Mother and Melba were both very well, about life at the Estate, his legal studies. He learned that William was an Alderman of the local Oxfordshire Council, that Henry was running the family business, traveling between London, Oxford and Liverpool quite frequently. Apart from calling himself a glorified accountant, Albert did not find out what the business was. Victoria was engaged to be married but her fiance was still in South Africa, keeping the Boers calm, if such a thing could be said about the Boers.
At 7:00 pm, William and Henry disappeared for a few moments and returned with a trolley. On top was pot of soup sitting on a camp burner, staying warm. This was something else that Albert had never seen before. He was learning a lot this evening. Surrounding the heated pot were six pannikins and two bowls of croutons. The aroma of the soup was not something Albert had experienced before.
He thought he was being discrete as he sniffed at the aroma. but William smiled, "Ahh, something you've never had before I'd wager."
"And you would win, William, that is something I have never smelt before."
"Pleasant or not?" William asked.
"Intriguing, I would say. Has a aroma that is quite delectable, actually."
"Yes, this is called chicken laksa soup. I brought the recipe home from Singapore and everyone loved it. Ingredients are not always easy to get still, but whenever Henry goes to London he buys some more and sends them to us here."
