Aphrodizzia Read online

  Gazing down the length of her own body towards me, Sonja's blue eyes looked wonderingly from her pert brown face with its shock of dark curls. I smiled at her, holding her questioning gaze as I gave a light pinch to the soft pussy-flesh through the cotton gusset of the panties. A quick tremor of her body was followed by the young woman straining her hips back to open her rear access more fully. Using the back opening of her thighs, so that Petra would see everything, I began to masturbate Sonja gently through the stretched cotton web of her white panties. “You're well used to this, my dear,” I murmured to her as I stroked and squeezed lightly, “You like to play with yourself, Sonja, don't you? Yes, you do. You like it very much!

  Petra, my innocent child, watch closely! There's a good girl! See how my fingers find the slit in Sonja's cunt and rub up and down it through the cotton knickers?… Is that nice, Sonja? Is it? Let your lubrication begin to come. You needn't be bashful about moistening your briefs. I'm sure it's happened before when you've been played with… You like watching Sonja masturbated, Petra? Do you? See how she needs it!… Can you feel how you're wetting yourself, Sonja? I must show Petra your juice on my fingers. Oh, you little innocent, Petra! Don't try to turn your face away… Very well, then, I must hold you by your little tail of hair and make you breathe in the scent of Sonja's arousal!” Sonja's fuse, having smouldered for so long, now burst into flame.-When I held my fingers still she rode her hips to and fro on them, frantic for the rubbing between her legs.

  “I'm sure some lucky man had fun with you, Sonja! What a juicy ride! Ah, some more on to my fingers then!… Now you shall wait while I ease it off on the back of your thigh… But you must be more passionate than this before we take down your panties, Sonja!” I had scarcely spoken these words when Petra gave a startled but grateful little cry. Sonja, frantic to do as she was done by, had buried her face in the rear of the blonde's slim thighs and was kissing Petra's fair-haired cunt-lips hungrily. How many times, I wonder, had she done this in reality or fantasy behind the photographer's studio? “Do it better than that, Sonja!” I said with mock severity, “Otherwise I shall give you a smacked bottom and no more fun! Tickle Petra's clitoris with your tongue! Properly! Then you may tongue-diddle her if you wish.” When the tongue-tip touched her sensitive little clitoris, eighteen-year-old Petra was the most quivering, half-hysterical nymph. She shrieked as if in the most atrocious torment-a sure proof of the near alliance of pleasure and pain in the human sensibility. I stroked her lank fair hair reassuringly. “Don't hold back, Petra, my sweet! Scream in your joy, if you wish! There is no shame in that-only a great release!”

  Petra's sharp, spasmodic cries fell presently to a gentle moaning of pleasure. The window curtains stirred a little in the warm night-breeze across the lake. I held the fingers, which were slippery from Sonja's cunt, to Petra's lips. She first kissed, then licked them gently. I still refused to let her take down Sonja's briefs, curious to see what the blonde nymph would do. With a shudder of longing, Petra leant forward and applied her pouting kiss to the warm wetness of the cotton, where it clung to the softness of Sonja's vaginal lips.

  Later I intervened, drawing Petra's head back by the flaxen pony-tail and taking down Sonja's panties to mid-thigh. In Sonja's case, her plump little cunt is mossed by dark hair. At twenty-two years old her bum-cheeks have the round sauciness of womanhood, contrasting with the pale ovals of Petra's demure buttocks! The two girls mouthed and tongued one another between the legs, each trying to stroke the curls or pony-tail of the beloved who gave her such joy.

  In a moment more, Sonja's spasm was almost upon her. With a sudden sound in her throat, her dark curls jerked and I saw her face, her lips drawn back over bared teeth like one in a fit. I wanted, of course, to make her abandon herself completely at this moment. Sonja's twenty-two-year-old arsehole was visible between her buttocks. I took the vaseline jar and spread a dollop of the grease on her anus. Her dark curls were twisting to and fro, her cheeky suntanned face agonised in the spasm of coming orgasm. I took the smooth metal tube which once held a large Corona cigar and slid its rounded end into Sonja's behind. I held it with several inches inside her and the rest protruding. My other hand worked expertly at her cunt-lips. “I want you to come with your arsehole held open, Sonja,” I said gently.

  And so she did, reaching her climax with a wild cry that was midway between a scream and a snarl! Gently I drew the tube from her arse, wiped her between the cheeks with paper from the roll by the bed, and dropped the paper on the floor. But Sonja had hidden her face in the silk cover now and was sobbing as if with shame at the exhibition she had made of herself. It was, of course, only the natural anticlimax which follows such ecstasy. I touched her hot and slippery cunt and began to stroke again gently. Her sobs broke out anew, as if she hated this! Yet Sonja would climax a dozen times before dawn broke, for I had decided upon that. Presently the sobs ceased, the first yearning sighs began softly once more, and her brown tanned hips moved gently in time to my fingers as I masturbated her. Then I gave her to Petra to suck. The eighteen-year-old blonde had her own “happy time”-the first of several on that restless night!-ten minutes later.

  It was almost dawn when I left them, still fastened head-to-tail in the same manner and still playing with each other like a pair of charming and lascivious kittens! When I entered next morning, they were sleeping exhausted in their posture. Each girl's panties were still in a tangle round the middle of her thighs and she presented her bare hips in their upwards squat to her partner. How long had their loving continued? From telltale smears, it was evident that the wicked cigar tube had entered Petra's backside as well as Sonja's and that their cunts had yielded several more libations after my departure. To spare the silk cover of the bed, they had torn paper from the roll and wiped each other's love-juice. The scattered sheets of paper on the floor showed the evidence of this, as well as wiping off of vaseline from between Sonja's buttocks-and between Petra's nymphlike bum-cheeks too. They were drowsy and drugged by pleasure when they woke. Desire became a lethargy and they would not have chosen to leave the villa, even had this been permitted. They curled up together on the bed like two young animals in their contentment as I went to the Anhalter Bahnhof to meet Julia and Natasha. Have I not done well in making my arrangements for their stay here? Ah, my own Jack, as soon as I set eyes on those two delightful pupils, I knew that you had been as good as your word. Prim little Natasha at fourteen with her blond chignon, and Julia with her sullen looks and cropped comb of dark hair! I swear that if means can be found, they must not return to England. There are masters in the world who would pay handsomely for such a pair of slave-girls! What a waste to permit them two or three years more of sitting at a classroom desk.

  By now, dear Jack, I hope my own “presents” to you will have arrived, even if you have not yet had the chance to unwrap them completely! Claudia at fifteen is charming, is she not? Her companion Katharine is rather a plump blond slut at seventeen. Elke is a young puss who merits close observation. Of the four, it is Helena who adopts the most haughty and self-possessed mien. Yet you would be surprised how easily those blue eyes can be made to look so apprehensively and with such dismay upon her fate. But I tell you things which you will guess for yourself as soon as you set eyes upon them. I await your first account of the girls with great expectation.

  In a week at the most, I hope to have news for you of how Natasha and Julia have taken to the life of my sapphic “harem!” Your loving Dolly.

  THREE

  The arrival of several German beauties at Pineboume- Katharine and Claudia-A-voluptuous Rhinemaiden and a gamine nymph-Jack's first adventure with them-The master incognito-Katharine and Claudia in racy bathing-costumes-Jack's surreptitious photographs of the pair on the beach-A perfect pretext for undressing and chastising the two lovely girls. Dearest Dolly, Will you ever believe what I have to tell you now? At the very moment when I was expecting the arrival of the girls from Germany, Austria, low countries and Nordic wastes, I was calle
d away to Town. My broker, who has for years thought Consols a good enough resting place for my funds, favoured a switch to the gold mines of the Rand. But as the price of those shares was about to rise, so he was told, we must act in short order. There was nothing for it but to leave the establishment here in the hands of my duenna and absent myself two whole days. On my return I thought it advisable to take a good look at the girls before allowing them to see me. I find this prudent, as a means of judging their conduct and characters without allowing them to know the identity of the “stranger” before whom they perform. How right I was to do this-and what an adventure it has led me into. I promise you I had no hope that our sport would begin so soon. Let me tell you all about it. On the afternoon following my return, I chose to make a reconnaissance of the beach, taking with me my Kodak which I always use on these occasions.

  The girls had done their morning lessons with the duenna, Miss Leach, and had now been dismissed to the pleasures of the sea shore. I knew their appearances well enough from having peeped through the window at them during their studies, and so was easily able to recognise each.

  July has brought perfect summer weather to the Sussex coast. The turf is warm on the downlands where the scattered flocks of sheep graze and the gorse is in yellow bloom. Sunlight glints on the calm waters of the English Channel and the band plays on the pier whose iron spider-legs extend into the breakers and shallows. Just now it is low tide in the afternoons, which is more agreeable. You may easily imagine how crowded the beach becomes with holiday folk from the grand hotels and humbler boarding-houses, not to mention those trippers from London whom the trains bring down for the day. The upper part of the beach between the wooden groins consists of pebble or shingle. Further down, where this slope ends, it is flat sand, which is covered when the tide is in. Yet when the rim of the sea is but a distant glitter, the broad expanse of damp sand is a capital place to walk or play-far below the crowded shingle. I walked along there, amused by the shouts and laughter of English girlhood wading and splashing in the shallows of low tide. From the bathing station to the pier and on to the edge of town, the beach was crowded with such pretty creatures. Here I caught only the faintest sounds of traffic where the grand hotels and flower gardens of the esplanade stood high above the wavelets. Such was my state of mind and the view before me, when I came upon the most delightful and seducing? sight of the entire afternoon. Far down on the beach, where the damp sand was no more than twenty feet from the ripple of the slack tide, I saw half a dozen of my German nymphs. They were cavorting almost naked in the most enticing manner. It was innocent enough, I suppose, and yet I began to think at once of the opportunities their “scandalous” conduct offered me. Two of them I recognised at once. Katharine, the plump and tall Rhinemaiden of seventeen with her sun-toasted flesh and the gently waved blond tresses brushing her shoulders. And Claudia, the nymph of fifteen with her crop of light brown hair and the heart-shaped beauty of her young face. What were they doing? All were dressed in the skimpiest fashion which only the healthy innocence of German culture would permit. They wore the “Roman” bathing suits which consist of a little breast-halter and pants which are tight as they are brief. Surely these were made for the privacy of the baths and not for a public display? However, one girl was sitting at the centre of the circle, while the others sat on their heels facing her. With shrill teenage laughter they scooped up the wet sand and began to pile it against her legs and hips, burying their laughing victim to the waist. I moved unobtrusively towards them, knowing how indignant I must later pretend to be at their display of themselves in breast-halters and briefs. The cap was off the lens of the camera and I was ready to begin. I chose Katharine first, in order to make a photographic record of her “depravity,” against which she could not argue. Picture the scene. Katharine must either accept the punishment allotted or else the sporty photographs of her arse and tits, almost naked, must be despatched to her sorrowing parents.

  So there she sat on her heels, the blond tresses brushing loose on her sun-browned shoulders. The light blue eyes, strong features, the golden-tanned back and thighs of this softly voluptuous German Venus were a pleasure to behold. The girls were so busy with their game that they did not notice me at all. I pretended to be looking through the viewfinder in order to take photographs of the pier which was close by. Yet each time, as the shutter clicked, it was Katharine's image which filled the frame. You will think me boastful, Dolly, but I took such full and perfect portraits of her face, laughing and pensive, as an artist might envy. And then, of course, the girls had just been bathing in the sea. Katharine's costume was made of thin russet brown cotton. It clung like a second skin to her soft damp body. The detailed photographs of her plump young breasts showed every curve and line through the wet costume. It was clearly visible in the prints that the cold sea had erected her nipples in the most wanton yet provoking fashion! Having taken the first set I squatted down, some half dozen feet behind Katharine as she knelt, and pretended once again to be puzzling with the workings of the camera. How one might adore the bare sheen of the girl's sun-browned and sand-dusted back! Those strong young legs and fleshy hips! When you see the photographs you will notice that she wears a gold slave chain round her left ankle. For which lucky lad in Cologne is that kept? Katharine is so soft-hipped that the elastic waistband of her briefs dents the flesh quite deeply. Imagine then, how fully she fills her skimpy pants! My chance came a moment later. In order to pile the wet sand against the victim, each girl had to lift her hips from her heels and go forward on all fours. When Katharine did so, I thought my prick would fairly burst open my trousers. The damp cotton of the brown briefs clung to the fat-cheeked view of Katharine's bottom! Did ever a girl offer herself like this except to her lover in their honeymoon passion? Twice-and thrice-the shutter clicked while she was in this posture, our blonde Rhinemaiden's backside and bare thighs filling the entire plate! To speak plainly, Katharine is not to every man's taste. Yet for those who like a modern Rubenesque beauty, athletic and sun-browned, she is a perfect object of amusement. I felt a surge of delight, aware that I now had enough evidence of her scandalous public display to require a private and intimate encounter between us! In a short while, Dolly, you shall be the possessor of a set of these full-plate prints!

  Imagine how you might cover the wall of your study with a display of such provoking postures-as I have already done! At this point the girls ended their game and went back up to the pebbles where their clothes and towels had been left. My attention now turned to fifteen-year-old Claudia-and with good reason. By contrast with the plump charms of Katharine, Claudia has that beauty which most appeals to me-the perfection of the nymph. The first photographs show the allure of her lively eyes and trim features, the perfection of a face whose proportions run from wider cheekbones to a firm round chin. I know you must share my admiration of her prettily tousled brown hair, curling over her forehead, its thickness cut short at her nape.

  At her present stage of development, Claudia's figure has the elasticity and resilience of youth. Yet though she has not quite blossomed into full femininity, the lines of womanliness are already visible in her adolescent form. Of the two girls, she would be my choice and I shall be most reluctant to see her return to her grammar school in Dusseldorf! I was walking across the pebbles, no more than ten feet behind the girls, when Claudia knelt down to smooth out the towel upon which she was going to lie. My view of her, as she sat on her heels in the elastic tightness of her emerald green briefs and breast-halter, was breath-stopping. Her young shoulders, back, and legs are more lightly sun-tanned than Katharine's. Moreover, Claudia still displays a narrow-waisted elegance, the delicate bone-pattern of her spine prettily contoured. Yet like so many German girls, Claudia already has that softness of hips which may lead to fatness in ten years time. The dampness of the briefs made them fit like skin over her flanks and arse-halves, the elastic waist denting her nubile skin a little. I had taken one or two portraits of this view when Claudia raised
herself and knelt forward on all fours. What a delicious sight she offered, Dolly! How could any warm-blooded man not want to feel her under his hands and loins? She knelt with her bare knees apart a little, the cheeks of her backside, rounded and broadened in a most womanly manner. Yet once again, it was the soft pussy-flesh between the thighs, so clearly moulded by the damp green briefs, which caught one's attention first. I was able to take several close-up photographs of this view in which the details have come out with astonishing clarity. The bare soles of her feet are pretty enough to kiss, nor should one hesitate to nuzzle them. Following her thighs to their tops there is such a sweet plumpness of their inner surfaces just before her legs join. I propose to kiss and tongue-tickle her there this summer, Dolly, to taste the sea upon the young flesh and to savour the mineral tang of Claudia's own body. And who could possibly allow the adolescent cheeks of Claudia's bottom such useless labour as sitting on the bench of the Dusseldorf academy? Had she been my slave, Dolly, and this the beach of my seraglio-as Don Juan found one-I should have detained her in this pose while I took out my prick and inserted it up the leg of her briefs to begin its voyage of exploration. You and I, my dear friend, know the means whereby such girls may be spirited away to a secure house-there to serve the pleasures of its master. You will not, I venture, find such a place in Eastbourne or Brighton. Yet I urge you, Dolly, to see if some such fate may not be arranged for Claudia. I grant you she is a demure young lady as yet, but that ought not to save her from such a delightful bondage. A whipping across her bottom from time to time would not only add to her owner's amusement. By obliging Claudia to submit, it will infallibly increase her own pleasures. Do, my dear Dolly, see if something of this sort cannot be arranged in her case!