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'Oh, I had a Japanese lover.'

She told him the story we have heard before, and then he asked for more Japanese tricks.

'Clothes'll be in the way; come on, I'll undress you.'

She had his shirt and flannel trousers and slippers-he was still in his bathing rig-off in a jiffy, and playfully smacked his great rigid tool.

She wouldn't let Charlie help her, but slid out of her light summer frock like a practised quick-change artist.

'Have you ever tried a kangaroo fuck?'

'No.'

'Well, it is rather difficult, but very nice, and as I'm very light, and you're so big and strong, we ought to manage.

'I take a little run, and jump for your neck, throwing my legs open to go right round your waist. If you're clever you catch me just under the armpits, and my cunt fits perfectly over your cock. If you don't catch me properly, I get a nasty blow in the stomach from that stiff ramrod of yours. Are you game?'

Charlie was game, and at once. He stood waiting for the spring like a wrestler waiting for his adversary. His muscles stood up under his white skin, and his penis seemed almost bursting, so tense were the veins.

Jeannie kissed him lightly once, her tongue just brushing his lips, gave him one sounding smack on the buttocks, and retired about seven feet.

She clapped her hands, gave what seemed to Charlie a few kangaroo-like bounds, and was in his arms-and not only his arms, for he had judged her spring to perfection, and the soft pulsating walls of her cunt were throbbing round his staff of very much life. He was almost brutal to the girl-something made him forget his great strength, like 'Gurt Jan Ridd'-and he almost crushed the little dear.

'Carry me round the room, dear,' she whispered hotly his ear, 'and get very, very slowly on your back on the sofa but for heaven's sake, don't jerk it out, and keep it tight so that there isn't a bit of an inch to show between us-and then I'll show you how to finish a fuck.'

He got down, very gently indeed.

'Lie quiet, now,' she said, and sat up, ' quite quiet,' for Charlie was wriggling. She smacked his face to emphasise her words.

'Now, I don't suppose you've had it this way, you fucking sod,' she muttered-she was mad with lust now-'and if you come before I want you to, or let your cock get just one little bit loose-I'm going to use it as a lever-you'll never fuck, me again.'

Very slowly she lifted up her legs till they were almost parallel with the flanks of her soft, vibrating body, clasped them round with her arms, and twisted her little finger behind her curly-haired head.

Then she began to sway-it was a wonderful rhythmic movement, and it appeared almost marvellous that the girl could keep her balance.

Once or twice Charlie lifted his hands, fearful she would fall, but with a clench of the lips and a flash of the eyes, she bade him put them down.

'Now-now!' she said, dreamily, 'as I put my legs very slowly down, just let your-your spunk drift down till my knees are on the bed, and we'll just come wonderfully together. Stare straight into my eyes, darling, and by our eyes we can gauge the final spasm to the absolute tick of a second-now watch me.'

There was something snake-like in the fascination of her stare, as she gradually brought her legs down. It seemed to Charlie at first almost a superhuman effort to keep from madly clutching her and crushing her on to his stomach.

But gradually he came under the magnetism of her devilish eyes-he could almost feel that she was pumping the semen up his cock-a cock that to him now seemed almost a detached thing-he was fucking with his brain not his penis-with the power from her eyes informing her brain.

At last her knees touched the bed. She threw her arms straight above her head, clapped her hands, screamed some strange Japanese-sounding jargon-and-Charlie shut his eyes, while a mist of wondrous colours floated across the cinematograph sheet of his brain-a mist illumined with-well, when the present writer asked Charlie to describe it, Charlie frankly admitted that he could not. It was a dream of lovely women, and always eyes, eyes, eyes of lust, he was being fucked by eyes.

Jeannie's voice brought him to his senses. She was standing by his side, her hands on her hips, looking down quizzically.

'Well?' she queried.

'God Almighty,' groaned Charlie, 'if there are any more home like you in Newcastle, that's where I want to die.'

'You're to thank Tokyo, and a little innate impulse for that, darling,' she said; 'but it's mainly Jap- and your cock: very few men could have kept me up like that-and now I've gone and fallen in love with you.'

Charlie didn't dare answer except by a shower of kisses all over her body, which she returned with interest. She kissed what remained of the semen from his glans, and he greedily fed on the white stream which slipped down her thighs.

Charlie might have forgotten everything but for the whistle of the speaking tube, and the admonition from his employer, Maudie, that the time had come for the performance to begin.

'Get the other girls together, dear,' he whispered. 'May'll look after you all, but I'm relying a lot on you. We're going to take 'em in batches.'

They were to begin with the boys, and Charlie, somewhat foolishly from the really erotic standpoint, had produced his bunne bouche first.

The drawn curtain presented a young Sicilian, about sixteen, and almost matured. He was very beautiful in a girlish way as far as his face was concerned, but his figure was that of an athlete, upright as a dart. His black hair curled crisply over his temples; his eyes were very large and passionate; his lips were like a cleft rose.

He was quite naked, save for sandals, and a cloth round his loins. A hum of appreciation went round the spectators.

No word was spoken, but a concealed band was heard playing soft, dreamy music.

Tubby came forward with his little tray of razors, and bowed, first to the audience, then to Charlie, and then to the boy. Charlie removed the cloth, and it was seen at once that Tubby had a fine subject to work on.

The boy's tool, semi-erect, was surrounded by a forest of luxuriantly curling bush. It seemed a shame to cleave the 'love-mane' from the young Narcissus-but is not the human form, male or female, more perfect in entire nudity of hirsute growth? I think so, my readers, and so did the 'clean-shave' devotees of Rosedale house.

There was a chair, similar to that in the London studio, and gently Charlie placed the boy, who was half laughing, half shyly blushing, in position.

Tubby, looking ridiculously modern in his lounge suit, faultlessly cut, beside this young naked god, stepped up and laid his hand on the quivering penis.

Instantly it shot into life-the poet bit his thumb, lustful longing filled the eyes of the women.

Quickly Tubby lathered the rolling curls with some soap, which drifted a delicious aroma into the nostrils of all. As he followed the action of the brush by a rub of his fingers, the boy's eyes became dreamy, his phallus was stiffly erect, a mighty one for a youth, and his arms hung listlessly over the edges of the chair.

One of the girls, dressed in a black skin-tight maillot, with red sleeves, a female Mephisto en effete, handed Tubby a razor. Deftly the fat young man played round that staff of eager love. One curiously shaped instrument after another he called for, till the last curl had fallen.

He bowed in reply to the plaudits of the audience.

A girl, one of the smallest, not quite naked, but very suggestively half-dressed, came forth with a tray of unguents and powders. A boy, fully dressed in Lord Fauntleroy style, held a basin, a third girl, quite naked, brought a cut-glass bottle of scent.

Tubby, his work completed, stepped back, and Maudie, pouring the scent into the silver bowl of water till a dense, but delicate, aroma filled the room, softly sponged the remaining lather from the boy.

That done, she rubbed the virgin skin with an unguent, and followed with powder.

It was a pretty sight, a contrast again of the old world and the new-for Maudie was still in her light summer frock, just the 'river girl' in excelsis, and this young Narcissus made a beautiful foil. And all the time his ramrod was stiffly rigid.