Such craftsmanship in the carving-some of it fine as lacework! Do you notice the change of climate, the warm and languorous air? Even in the late afternoon one feels a summer drowsiness. Perhaps you already detect the odours of spice and the clear tang of a gentle sea?
Possibly you will care to stroll down to the beach and view such adolescent nymphs as Katharine, Claudia, or Elke at their frolics. Do not forget that these girls belong absolutely to you as the master, and you will require whatever pleasure you wish from them. May I draw your attention to the two Swedish girls, the trim and noble blondes of sixteen or seventeen? Take a closer look at Helena. How could a man resist those pert neat features, the proud tilt of that pretty chin, the blue-green eyes, and the high-boned beauty? Jack is not greatly admiring of flowing skirts and garments which conceal a girl's figure. See how Helena is made to dress. A very short black jacket with a white singlet underneath and a pair of tight beach-trousers in dazzling white denim. If, like Jack, you enjoy taking a few unobtrusive photographs of such teenage nymphs, what a subject you have here! The pale blond hair with its fringe and its well-shaped silken sweep that just covers her collar makes an admirable setting for the young dignity of her face. The tight white jeans with a shiny black belt at the waist, perfectly shape the agile thighs of this slim, suntanned blonde. Look at her now. Holding her shoes in one hand she goes barefoot to the edge of the gentle tide and bends to rinse her fingers. Ah, your camera is ready! What a portrait this will be. As she bends tightly, the short sweep of the pale blond hair falls gently about her face. With feet a little apart and knees tucked forward, the straining white denim of the jeans-seat presents the nymph-cheeks of Helena's bottom. They appear tightly rounded and suggestively separated. As she walks up the beach again towards us, pretend to take a view of the open sea. Now you have the young dignity of her face in the aperture, the pale fringe, the firm features lightly suntanned. Can you resist a few clicks of the shutter? No? My congratulations again. She will not realise yet that you are taking these photographs of her as a souvenir of your adventure. She and the other blonde are now tracing their names in the wet sand with their forefingers-attempted copperplate, no doubt!
Proudly our nymph inscribes Sweden, and then with careful elegance Helena follows it. Imagine the opportunity given to a conscientious lensman as the lithe young blonde bends to this task!
Ah, I see you cannot resist a shot or two of the way that this childish game softens the proud young beauty of her face. Of course you will want several studies of her trim thighs in the tight white jeans, tense and firm as she stoops. And the hardened young mounds of Helena's buttocks, so provokingly parted as she writes in the sand, are offered more lewdly-though innocently- than the most easy going burlesque show would permit. Sooner or later the girls will realise that you are taking photographs of them-as Katharine and Claudia did with Jack. But do you not find a certain exquisite satisfaction in their discovery? See Helena and her girlfriend as they glance round at your camera and then whisper uneasily together. No wonder if a slight warm blush and a look of apprehension cloud the self-confidence of Helena's face. As she and her friend walk away with many a nervous backward glance, she is recalling the views she presented to your lens and, in her confusion, knows that there is nothing she can do now to remedy the situation. I have taken some trouble to introduce you to Helena. You wonder why? Jack and I would be greatly obliged if you would command her on your bed tonight. She is young and fresh, Jack says, and he believes it would give you great satisfaction to break her in, demanding every pleasure which our young blonde's body has to offer. Of course, we would not confine your amusement to one girl in a harem of fifty or sixty! That would be a true failure of a gentleman's hospitality. In such a place as this, the master's silken divan is never less than eight or nine feet long and quite six feet wide. On retiring, he is never accompanied by less than three or four girls who sprawl on the divan with him. Have no fear then. You shall not only be provided with such a nymph as this but also with an elfin creature of pert beauty and a strapping young trollop for your stronger tastes. Should these prove insufficient, a ready supply awaits you of mischievous schoolgirls, demure debutantes, softly passionate young wives, and warm-skinned beauties from Arabia or the Orient. First let us partake of some refreshment. Jack will never combine dinner with his amorous pursuits, for he maintains that one excitement spoils the other and begets a habit of indigestion. Here, then, in the colonnaded courtyard where the fountain plays, the table is spread with fine linen, silver, and cut-glass. As if by invisible hands, the most succulent hors d'oeuvres, the choicest dishes, and the most enticing fruits are set before you. All these are washed down by bottles of the finest vintage-claret, burgundy, and hock-all selected to tease your palate without cloying your mind. When dinner is done, it is time for you to retire to the ease of the adjoining room, there to enjoy a leisurely Havana and a glass of malt whisky. The lamps are lit now as you take your ease in a comfortable leather chair among the carved Spanish furniture. The glass, the decanter, and the humidor are on a little table beside you. Now you must meet the three girls who wait here to attend your least desire. As custom requires, the young blonde, Helena, kneels on a cushion before you, her eyes demurely lowered and her head bowed a little as she waits. She is still in the white jeans and short black jacket. When the time to undress her arrives, you would naturally wish to do that with your own hands.
And who is the charming little “waitress” who must keep your glass filled and your cigar glowing? Though she is a blonde also, she is a year or two younger than Helena. It is Natasha with her prettily severe coiffure of fringe and saucy chignon of fair hair. As you think of the acts you will make her perform, is there not something rather amusing about the pouting sulkiness of that young face? Once again, you will prefer to undress her with your own hands, no doubt. That is why Natasha still wears her formal uniform of green jumper, white blouse, striped tie and navy blue skirt with white ankle-socks.
As this prim little blonde fills your glass, can you resist stroking her fair-skinned face, kissing the prettily uncovered ear, or even running your hand up her slim young thighs under the skirt, testing their pale smoothness and feeling the firm young bottom-cheeks or warm pussy through the stretched white cotton of Natasha's schoolgirl knickers? However extreme the fantasies which Natasha awakens in your mind, all of them are possible here. The oldest of the three girls attending you is Noreen. Jack thought that after the daintiness of Natasha and the nymphlike elegance of Helena, the appeal of a strapping young trollop at nineteen years old would make an amusing contrast. Noreen's invariable costume here is the snug-fitting singlet which shows her breasts and strong young back, the tight jeans of faded blue denim. You need no introduction to the firm fair-skinned features, the defiant brown eyes, the collar length of dark lank hair and its level fringe. You now see for yourself the well formed thighs of a working-girl in the tight denim, the robust young hips, the broad but firmly-rounded cheeks of Noreen's bottom in the skin-tight denim. To ensure Noreen's obedience, you may very well need a whip, and one will be provided. Jack has also instructed that the two leather cuffs on her wrists are to be linked closely together in front of her. Her task is to operate the fan which stirs the air in the room. To do this we have contrived it that she must stand by the arm of your chair with her back to you, and must bend a little forward to reach the handle which she rums. Do you like the view with the seat of her jeans presented to you in this manner? As you sip your whisky, do you smile to yourself, your eyes roving over the sturdy mounds of Noreen's buttocks in the smooth-stretched jeans?