My First Fruits

I did not awaken until it was broad daylight, and, like all heavy sleepers, I was awake and sensible of what was going on before opening my eyes. I became conscious that a hand was gently pressing and apparently taking the size of my standing pego, which the pressure of water on my bladder had occasioned to be in an erection of the hardest. I lay quite still, continuing to breathe heavily, but unable to prevent the sundry throbbings of my pego, occasioned by the soft hand of my aunt, who was gently following its form from the outside of my trousers. It appeared she had only just commenced her manipulations, not having previously observed the bulging out of its large dimensions under my trousers. She pressed her knee against that of the doctor opposite, who, I presume, was dozing off, and in a whisper, I heard her draw his attention to my extraordinary development.

"Feel it, my dear, but very gently, so as not to waken him; it is the largest prick I have ever felt and altogether beats the late Captain of Grenadiers you used to be so jealous of."

The doctor did feel, and I think my aunt would have unbuttoned my trousers had not the coach suddenly pulled up at the inn we were to breakfast at. So perforce, they shook me up. I acted like a suddenly awakened sleeper very well. As soon as we were out of the coach, I whispered to the doctor:

"If you please, uncle, I want to piddle very badly."

"Come here, my dear boy."

And taking me behind some wagons in the innyard, where we would not be seen, he said,

"Here, we can both piss down this grating."

And, forsooth, to encourage me, he pulled out his own standing pego. I saw what he wanted and came up with my own in all its length and strength.

"Good heavens, Alexander, what an immense cock you have got—does it often stand like that?"

"Yes, uncle, every morning it hurts me, so until I piddle—it gets worse and worse, and bigger and bigger—it was not half so big a year ago. I don't know what to do to cure myself of this hardness, which is very painful."

"Ah, well, I must speak to your aunt; perhaps she can help you. Have you ever spoken to anybody else about it?"

"Oh, dear, no! I should have been quite ashamed, but when I saw you also had the same hardness, I was very glad to ask your advice, dear uncle."

"Quite right. Always consult me about that part of your body, whatever you may feel."

We breakfasted, and I could see, on regaining the coach, that uncle and aunt had a satisfactory exchange of words on the subject. We got to the rectory in Kent in time for dinner, at which I was the object of the great and devoted attention of both, especially of my aunt.

Our previous long journey made an early retreat to bed a necessity for all of us. They both conducted me with much empressement to my bedroom, a very comfortable one, having a communication at one end with a corridor, and, on the right-hand side entering, another door communicating with my uncle's dressing room and bathroom, and these opening into their bedroom, which had a similar dressing room on the other side fitted up with wardrobes for female gear and was dedicated to my aunt's sole use. I was left to a quiet night's rest, which I most thoroughly enjoyed, and I slept profoundly until late in the morning. I was awakened by my uncle drawing all the clothes off me. Of course, I was rampant, as usual. He gazed for a moment or two without speaking at my enormous cock at full stand. He then said it was nine o'clock and breakfast was ready; he had not liked to disturb me sooner, as I was in such a slumber, but now it was time for me to get up.

"I see," he added, "that your doodle, as you call it, has got the hardness you spoke of yesterday."

Then he laid hold of it and gently squeezed it—it filled his grasp. He evidently enjoyed the pleasure of handling it, but contented himself with saying that my aunt must see to giving me some remedy the next day, when she should come and inspect it in the morning, so as to see how hard it was and how it hurt me.

I replied that it would be very kind of my aunt, but what would she think of my showing my doodle to her? Mamma had told me that when I slept in her room, I was always to piddle in a corner and never let anyone see it.

He laughed at my apparent simplicity and said,

"Your mamma was quite right as to people in general, but it is quite a different thing with your aunt, whose close relationship authorizes her doing what she can to relieve her dear nephew, in whom we both take such an interest; besides, I suppose your mamma never saw it in this size and hardness?"

He was gently handling it all the way through our conversation.

"Oh, no! Mamma never saw it but at night, when it was quite shrunk up, and that is nearly a year ago, when I used to sleep in her room; since then, it has grown so large, hurts so much, and throbs so violently as it is doing now in your hand. It makes me feel so queer, dear uncle, and I shall be so much obliged to dear auntie if she will but give me a remedy to relieve the pain I suffer."

He laughed again and said,

"I shall speak to your aunt, and we shall see—we shall see; but get up now; we shall find your aunt waiting for us. So make haste and dress; come downstairs, you will find us in the dining room."

He left me, and I could hear him laughing to himself as he walked along the corridor, doubtless at my apparent innocent simplicity. I saw at once that I should be called upon to show myself a man the next day, but I already felt the advantage of the advice both my admirable mistresses had given me as to making all new conquests believe that they had my first fruits.