Carefully she spread it over the distended head and then reached between my thighs to smooth more of the mixture over my balls.

'Our secret potion,' she said. 'It is made up specially to our own recipe.' 'Is he ready?' asked Madame. Then she looked at me.

'Splendid,' she murmured to Hannah. 'You are very lucky to have such a fine fellow at your beck and call.' Hannah stroked me, massaging the oil into my now flourishing staff. Her fingers rubbed delicately at its head. 'Oh, Andrew, I have never seen you in such an enticing state. Madame is indeed right in saying that I am very lucky.' Suddenly a surge of pride ran though me. To think that I had the means at my disposal to reduce such connoisseurs of the male member to such wide-eyed admiration. I drew myself up to my full height. 'Now!' said Madame and I was all of a sudden plunged into a container of liquid plaster. 'How does that feel?' asked Hannah.

'Cool, and wet, and rather pleasant,' I answered. 'Stay still for a minute or two and think of my cunt,' said Hannah. 'Think of it taking you in and holding you. Think of it opening eagerly to your entry and of my love juices beginning to mix with yours.'

Eyes still half-closed, I thought hard. Mr. Pego held by the soft plaster, stayed rigid with rising excitement. 'Fucking is about imagination and memory and anticipation,' said Hannah. 'Not just about fucking. That is why you are so good at it.' 'Careful,' said Madame, 'Don't get him too excited. He's beginning to move about a bit. We don't want to spoil the impression he has made.' I took a deep breath and thought of the care and control with which I had first entered Rosie, not wanting to cause her inexperienced pussey any discomfort. I thought of the lessons in self-control that I had had at the hands of Tessa on the Great Western train to Paddington and of the cool Catherine as she impaled herself upon me at the after dinner entertainment we had all enjoyed when the Scottish contingent was in Town.