It throbbed in time to the darts of his tongue: it was like a conductor's baton guiding the strokes of that first violin of lust- his tongue-and his buttocks heaved with it, suggestive of an accompaniment of brass and drums.
Suddenly the girl's legs tightened, a happy cry escaped her, and her fingers tattooed on Tubby's head.
For a moment he was quite quiescent, muscles flaccid-penis, even, semi-rigidly dependent.
Then he sprang up, gave a loud cry, and fell upon his penis with his own hands. Two convulsive grips, and he shot a stream of semen amongst his audience.
Then he blushed all over, tomato red from forehead to toe, and, forgetting his clothing, fled from the girl's side.
'The paean of Silenus,' murmured the poet.
Quickly Elsie sponged the nymph's cunt, wiped dry the rosy lips of love's portal, all humid with the juice of rapture, kissed her on the forehead, playfully slapped her bottom, slipped a Japanese kimono on to her, and beckoned another.
Meanwhile Tubby had hidden portions of his shame with a towel, and was endeavouring to hide his confusion amidst a whisky and soda and Charlie's loud laughter.
'Damme,' he expostulated, 'I couldn't help it, damme if I could. Those sort of things come on a fellow so damned sudden like, y'know.'
'Oh, Onan, Onan,' it was the poet's voice, 'turn'st thou in thy grave, to see thy foul example impulsed by a shave of dainty flappers' cunts-'
But Maudie shut him up.
'Quiet, now: here's another flapper for Tubby-come on, Tubby.'
Tubby went forward to the attack: his hand a little shaky perhaps, but with a determined glint in his eye.
It was the red-haired girl.
And the Titian glory that covered her head scarcely eclipsed the flaming beauty of the curls at the pit of her stomach. Her absolutely dead ivory white skin seemed literally to have burst into flame between her thighs and in her armpits.
She sat back in the chair more confidently than the first one.
'No, no, damn it, no,' cried the general, 'it's a wicked cruel shame to cut that off.'
'I agree,' said the poet, 'let, madame, let, that flame torch of love remain.'
The general opinion seemed to be the same.
'She shall be the one exception to the rule then,' said Maudie.
The pretty girl got up, seemingly a little annoyed that she had been deprived of Tubby's attentions.
The oldest of the girls, Jeannie Taylor, came next. She was more mature, and her figure was almost a woman's. "With frankly lascivious eyes she smiled on the onlookers, and lay back on the chair with a tempting wriggle.
Her skin was olive in tint, a pretty contrast to the scarlet of her nipples, scarlet which rivalled her lips. The hair on her body curled jet black, rich and luxuriant, almost covering the red lips of her cunt.
Tubby saw, as he brushed back the hair, that the moisture came trickling to the lips. As he looked into her eyes he read lust incarnate, and he could feel a throb of desire as he touched the skin.
Once more his member asserted its manhood, as he knelt, delicately razing away the hairs; it flung up its head, casting aside the guardian towel, and when, the shave completed, the hairs and the lather washed away, he looked at the now fully viewable cunt lips, pouting and swelling, almost seeming to talk to him, he promised himself more than a mere kiss this time.
He did kiss it, and had gone so far as to get one knee on the chair between hers when he was interrupted. Maudie didn't want her own particular golden-goose Tubby to get too fond of this sort of thing-with others. 'We haven't much time, my Tubby,' she cooed, 'so that'll keep for the present. Next lady forward please.'
The young undergraduate from Cambridge gave a heavy sigh of relief. That he intended to be his own bit, if possible.
'Next,' repeated Maudie.
'First lady forward, second lady pass, third lady's finger up the fourth lady's arse,' hummed the young undergraduate, Phil Learoyd, in remembrance of some alleged ballet instructions.
Tubby stepped back, and Charlie lifted the pretty girl from the couch, and left her to wander among the others, mother naked as she was.
There was no question of the fact that the absence of hair was as becoming to her olive skin as the presence of it was to the fiery-haired beauty. Charlie couldn't help thinking how lovely it would be to see soixante-neuf between the two and mentally decided that he would arrange it.
Tubby, his frustrated cockstand erectly grinning at his fat stomach, sulkily refused to shave any more, and Maudie took the last girl in hand herself.
This last had perhaps the daintiest figure of the quartet, and she was the subject of the first photograph. The magnesium flashed and the naked loveliness was transferred to the film. Once more the flash, and Charlie felt sure he had a beauty, the red-haired girl and the dark one clasped in amorous embrace, arms and legs intertwined, bodies pressed tight together, and the glorious Titian red tresses mingling with the equally voluptuous raven hair. It was only a suggestion of wild eroticism-Charlie meant to keep his soixante-neuf tit-bit till later.
The party broke up, and the word was given out to set forth for Staines and the joys of Rosedale.
CHAPTER FIVE
The journey was to be made by motor, but there was not quite enough room, and young Phil, Tubby's undergraduate friend, had a stroke of genius. He volunteered to take Jeannie in a taxi.
They all thought him too young to be harmful, and taxi it was for Jeannie and him.
London, and such things as taxis, were revelations to Jeannie. Of course she had seen plenty of motors up north but she had never been in one. She hadn't much idea where she was going. Phil Learoyd, her young companion, explained that it was a long way, but she felt deliciously comfortable.
He wasn't quite certain what to do. There was time to do a good bit before Staines.
'Had any dinner'?' he said.
'Not yet,' the lady said, 'I expect we'll eat when we get there; where is "there", by the way?'
'Oh, it's a jolly place. You'll love it: every sort of comfort, but it's a bit hot, you know.'
'I guessed that: I'm not quite silly, though I haven't been to Lunnon before.'
He took her to Frascati's, expecting her to be wide-eyed. 'Marvellous, isn't it?' he queried.
'It isn't the Midland at Manchester,' she answered. 'Mr Osmond took us there, and we had a lovely time, such lovely bedrooms.'
So Charlie had done his little charges pretty well, Phil thought. 'Did you sleep alone?'
'Ah, that would be telling.'
But the second glass of champagne loosened her tongue.
When he repeated the question, she admitted, with a good many blushes, that she 'hadn't exactly '.
'He was an actor,' she said, 'awfully good-looking, and he sat opposite us at dinner, and Mr Osmond took us to the theatre, and he was just lovely, and I saw him again in the winter garden, and I heard him ask the waiter who we were, and I saw him give the waiter something, so I suppose he got the number of my room. At any rate, about one I heard a tapping and, well, I didn't know whether it mightn't be Mr Osmond, so I opened the door-and he shut it behind him, and locked it, and put the key in his pyjama pocket before I knew what he was doing.'
'What infernal cheek!'
'He was awfully nice about it.'
'Did he?'
'Of course he did four times.'
'You little devil!'
'Yes, and he gave me a fiver, and told me he'd take me on, at once, in his company, if I'd go. Of course I'd promised Mr Osmond, but I should have liked it. That wasn't my first time, you know.'
'What!'
'No-the first was the timekeeper at the works. He forced me, and then got me the sack because I told father. He was a beast. Then there was an old man who used to deal with father-father's a dog-stealer-I mean a dog-dealer. He took me to Blythe for the night. I think father knew-he seemed to have more money than usual just after that. I only got a new frock. He was a nasty old man, used to make me run round the room, naked, and smack my bottom.