humphrey humphries

HUMPHREY’S TALE

A Fictional Account Of The Goings On At The Old Manor Far From Sea Of Galilee.  The Cast Of Characters Include Milord, Milady, Sylvia, Yehuda And The Priestess, In A Lyrical And Operatic Presentation, Suitable For Oratorios And Madrigals.

By Izzy Ess Of Inverness

Sir Humphrey Humphries was a modest man and hardly ever showed his body to his wife, Milady Mattie Mattingly.  He did, however, show it to the upstairs chambermaid, Ms. Sylvia Sylvester, eh?  On Monday, Wednesday and each Friday afternoon, when Milady Mattingly was riding her own horse, Yehuda Benjamin, a stable boy of magical proportions, Sir Humphrey paid our Sylvia an extra salary of an hundred pounds to take his manly wee-wee into her quite lubricated honeypot, after she inspected every inch of it with her own sexy tongue.  Then, like a Jaguar piston, she contrived to drive him into Heaven where he fanticized that he was having sex with his own sexy mother, who, in fact, had done inspections of his sexy wee-wee when he was yet a lad of twenty-one and she was thirty-nine, and still quite nubile.

Our Milady Mattie and her stable boy of magical proportions would hide beneath loose bales of hay and horse around for hours on end.  The other stable boys would look for them and when they did uncover them, they did discover that their horsey play was serious and would not be disturbed.  However, our Milady Mattie promised them a roll in other piles of hay if they could keep their counsel to themselves and keep their tattle-telling tongues on hold.  Milady Mattie Mattingly would line up all the other stable boys and give them all a licking and a fucking in return for silence, eh?  She admitted to herself she got a lot of satisfaction from the satisfaction of a dozen stable boys on Mondays, Wednesdays and good Fridays, eh?  A few of them had large equipment, which would thrill Milady very much, because her depths were being deeply plumbed.

So, unbeknownst to Lord and Lady Humphries, each of them was being satisfied completely, each and every Monday, Wednesday and good Friday.  On Tuesdays, Thursdays and good Saturdays, the Lord and Lady of the Manor would perform perfunctorily underneath the sheets without revealing nudity.  Both were surprised a little with Yehuda and our Sylvia who would come to their big bedroom, looking innocently at them fucking underneath the sheets, and tuck them in.  Then Sylvie and Yehuda would retire to Sylvie’s bed and do some horizontal waltzes with enthusiasm and élan.

A visit by the Royal Family and Entourage was scheduled for an early day in May.  The Queen and King of England were arriving with the Princes and the Princesses, the Dukes and Duchesses, the Earls and Barons and the sycophantic servants, chauffeurs, cooks, great butlers and the lovely, buxom chambermaids.  In an addition, there were stable boys, good gardeners, hunters, gatherers, whist players, some croquet champions and kleptomaniacs.  Preceding them were gifts of gold and silver, ivory and Cloisonné.  The prostitutes, both males and females, were up bringing the big rear and quite supportive of the footmen and the managers of the manure, and, surreptitiously, some members of the Royal Family, including young and ugly Bonnie Prince.

Milady and Milord were dressed in all their finery and symbols of their station which included standing lions, bulldogs and those one-eyed snakes.  The Royal Golden Carriage, with the King and Queen, and Royal Bulldogs, Romulus and Remus, did arrive some two days late and needed gold leaf for repairs.  One Royal Pony, Murgatroid, had pulled up with some painful rheumatoid arthritis and needed Royal Jelly for relief, before it carried on.  The upstairs-downstairs-basement room arrangements were already set and scurrying about were luggage carriers and sycophantic butlers, eh, plus all the Royal Illigitimi Non-Carborundi.

The King, King Edward, did demand a change in rooms to get more light, because he was a moody guy who needed light to maintain his demeanor.  In addition he was wont to watch the naked nymphs abounding in the gardens, underneath his balconies.  The nymphs were hired for the occasion of the Royal visit.  Our Queen Anne was satisfied with her huge room which could be darkened, day or night, because she entertained her butler, day or night, with his large manhood and his stamina.  The Ladies, who were waiting for the Butler when he was done with Anne, were nicely satisfied each night by Guggenheim, the sexual machine, the Butler to the Queen.

The very formal dinner, meant to greet the Royal Entourage, was two days late and the food was rot.  Refrigeration at the Manor wasn’t good and food was wasted on the sycophants and prostitutes.  Only two were poisoned and did die, while a half a dozen suffered Ptomaine, eh?  A ton of fresh food was brought in and everyone was safe.  A stranger did appear and curse the lot of them which did affect about a dozen servants who were laid and low for three whole days.  Otherwise, the greeting speech by Lord Humphrey was appreciated as he hadn’t done his fly right up and some could see his manhood popping through.  Milady Mattie Mattingly was wont to get real drunk and she just opened up her blouse to let her breasts just get some air and her private parts to see the light of day.  Her applause was deafening.  Silvia, the chambermaid supported her good Lord by holding his great manhood, while Yehuda had his mistress pegged throughout by lifting up her gown and baring her great derriere for him to penetrate.  The King and Queen of England were indeed impressed by all this intimacy and surreptitiously did dream of getting down and dirty with our Sylvia and bold Yehuda.

By the end of a long fortnight, the King and Queen of England did participate in Sylvie’s derriere and Yehuda’s grand erections.  It was the Queen who did remark that hospitality was never better in the countryside with so much fresh air and freshly strewn fresh bales of hay.  Yehuda was the star of British Kings and Sylvie got to kiss, and lick, the British Queen’s old private parts.  The Sunday Services were deliciously delivered by a semi-naked Priestess of the Anglican Persuasion, who composed some poetry for all the Royal Guests:

Behold the private parts of Humphrey’s whore

Who could satisfy the likes of Thomas Moore!

Behold the private parts of stable boys

Who boldly go ahead with all their toys

Displayed for all to gaze upon, both day

And night, in Hudson’s Bay or Mandalay.

Oh Muse of Poetry, please comfort me

And make me see that ecstasy is free

In this great Manor nowhere near the Sea

Of Galilee, where Royalty has come

To play in May and stayed for aloe plum

In April showers and the towers of

Both Lust and Love from Heaven’s Mourning Dove.

Sir Humphrey’s member fits me like a glove!

With this bold end, the Priestess was declaring that Sir Humphrey had been deep inside of her just gently wriggling his great tool until she had to utter, “fits me like a glove!” and end all poetizing for the moment, while she did experience Nirvana, here on Earth.  The night before, she had experienced Yehuda’s prowess, and the night before that, she had had a lot of fun with Sylvia, the Chambermaid, and Milady Mattie Mattingly, who did know how to kiss and lick and tongue, deliciously.  The Priestess, Isobel da Tinkerbelle, had promised to return each week for spirited renewal of her Holy Ghost, and Holy Host, and Hostess, eh?  Obsequiousness and some Sycophancy played a minor role.

The King and Queen of England did exchange more gifts of Love and Lust with Milady and Milord of Humphrey and of Mattingly.  They threatened-promised to return next May and stay for seven months of Love and Lust and neglect to bring the ugly Prince with them.  They contributed to Priestess Isobel’s good Health and Welfare to ensure that she would come and join the party each and every May through August, eh?

My dearest Readers, I confess I’ve blown my load on complications and I’m here to say this is

THE END

© izzy sommers, md., Welland, Canada, December 5, 2013