The chef, whom we have met 'afloat', appeared at the door.
He spoke in a resonant voice.
'Madame la Reine et ses Amies; Messieurs les ecumeurs de la mer, et ses amis, sont servis.'
The entrance to the dining-room was informal.
There was very little conversation at the dinner. The things to eat and drink were so very perfect, and the service so admirable that the convives lived rather for their stomachs than their brains.
A toast from Naroina, more radiant than ever with the flush of wine in her beautiful brown cheeks, was the only speech-making. She bade all and sundry of the captives welcome to the island where they called her 'Queen'.
And all and sundry of the captives-not only the male portion-coveted that luscious form.
Through the island of Fleur de la Chair runs a chine, cleft between two rows of hills. A dip from the young man's high-perched house, a swerve through a grove, and an opening-to-heaven tunnel cut from one shore of the island to the other swept Naroina and her motor to their home.
Naroina had left the banquet discontented. There was too much 'flapper' rivalry. She didn't quite know what the word 'flapper' meant, but she knew that men in general liked these semi-children, semi-women. She liked to make lazy conquests, but-and she couldn't put the 'but' in her pockets-she had to strive against younger blood.
She sat in the automobile now, wrapped in a pony skin blanket, and pondered over the inert form by her side.
'Ka dae lorumalla,' she murmured softly, and William Neale, actor and matinee idol, woke up indolently.
He had been dreaming of easy happiness in the Lamb's Club, of the triumphs of his story-telling, and the correct set of his trousers, and this southern moon got him a little unawares. Naroina had one arm round his neck as they twisted down to the sea.
But he recovered as the electric gleam of Naroina's boudoir showed him comfort.
Passion was in her eyes as the door closed behind them. She stood erect and flicked the drapery from her. The varied lights from the jewels on her bare, brown flesh almost blinded Neale.
There was no bed, or sofa even, but a couch raised about two feet from the floor.
On that Naroina sank.
Neale began to be nervous. Something, he felt, quite out of the ordinary, was his job-but what!
He looked very nice as he undressed, he was immaculate underneath, and his penis was quite a thing of joy. Naroina drew him by the elbow to her, and fingered his cock lasciviously.
His flesh was very white, and the moonbeams accentuated the pallor as he sank lovingly and nervously on her.
He was quite conscious of a soft hand making his body one with hers, and then his eyes took a moon-shaft straight-William Neale had played in Faust, and he remembered the Brocken scene.
Over the silk sea then danced the fairies to him, supping over the water, scrambling up the rocks, and climbing joyously through the window to him. Naked, delightful sprites.
And there was that dull feeling of coarse, butcher-shop joy just below his stomach.
He could not reconcile it to the glad glamour of the moon in his mind, or the velvet touch on his lips, or the pin-prick hurts of her jewels as limbs met limbs.
Then it was all dark, and something told him that the 'earthly thing' had happened.
A soft, deep breathing was all human that came to him on the Venusberg.
Naroina was asleep.
Billy Neale rose from the bed and walked to the window.
The very early sun was beginning to compete with the waning glory of the moon. The scene and surroundings were of almost incomparable beauty.
Naroina's house stood in the throat of the gorge through which the great car had whirled them, and its gardens sloped down to a wide beach. The open French windows invited Neale, and when he had once more got himself into his pyjamas he walked barefoot across the lawn and on to the sands.
There seemed no one in sight, and he went back to nakedness and waded joyously through the surf till the water kissed his chin. Reckless of sharks he swam indolently on his back out to sea, feasting his eyes on the fading glories of the land. He was half dreaming when the sound of chattering girls' voices caused him to change to breast stroke and look up. A rough canoe carrying three pretty native girls was drifting towards him. The occupants, paddles idle, were gazing at him with wonder-laden eyes.
They called to him in the vernacular, which Neale did not understand, but he guessed their meaning to be an invitation, and swam to the boat One of the girls bent over his hand as he grasped the gunwale, and kissed it; then she spoke to him in prettily broken English, warning him of the great danger of the big man-eating fish.
Neale clambered over the prow of the boat and sat down, naked as he was, with the girls. It seemed quite natural to him; the girls were naked, too, and evinced no surprise. He took the one who had kissed his hand into his arms, and kissed her softly on the lips. Her breath tasted like wild honey as she answered the caresses of his lips, and her hands wandered lovingly about his naked shoulders. Needless to say, by this time Billy Neale's staff of love was very much in a state of violent erection, but the girls showed no surprise. One of them, kneeling down, stroked it softly, and-well-it was a marvel that Billy Neale had not ejaculated violently before the canoe grated on the sand.
They lay down together on the shore, two of the girls with their heads on the actor's shoulders, and the third nestled between his legs. Everything was delightfully taken-for-granted and Neale's only dilemma was on which to begin. A native youth, curiously beautiful, wandered out of the woods and sat down by them. The girl who was between Neale's legs stretched out her hand and began feeling him; his prick stood up almost at once.
Only one of the girls spoke any English, but Neale did not feel that the occasion called for much spoken talk-the language of sensual caress was quite sufficient. His arms were pressed tightly round the pretty naked girls by his sides, and he kissed them alternately. The third little darling had his cock right in her mouth and was sucking it tenderly.
'Me first,' whispered the one who could speak English, and disengaging herself from Neale, she lay with her legs opened wide.
Neale got on top of her and slowly pressed his prick in, not without a little difficulty, until it was swallowed right up to the hilt. The other two girls cuddled round them and stroked their bodies. After the first few lustful kisses Neale lifted his head and beckoned the boy. He seemed to know instinctively what was wanted of him, and lay with his buttocks pressed against Neale's girl's head, his legs crossed over Neale's back, and his stiff cock standing up invitingly behind the girl's luxuriant black hair.
Neale took it into his mouth greedily and felt a wildly sensual thrill as it stiffened between his lips.
Neale meant the youth to come first, he wanted to taste the fresh young sperm and feel the lad's last passionate convulsion while his own cock was still throbbing in the pretty little darling's cunt.
The youth's legs tightened round his shoulders, his fingers were twisting in his hair. Three pairs of hands were gently stroking his body, another pair of soft legs twined round his buttocks-from head to toe he was one vibrating mass of lust.
He gripped a little with his teeth as he felt the sperm coming up the boy's cock, and then, as it spurted, drank it slowly down. When he felt that all the dear delicious warm drink was absorbed within him he pulled the lad to him and kissed him long and lovingly on the mouth. While their lips were together he spent, and felt the girl's cunt muscles contract delightfully on his cock.
He lay very quiet, not attempting to take it out, and kept his lips still on the youth's mouth.
At last he rolled off and lay back with the most beautiful feeling of satisfied exhaustion that it had ever been his good fortune to know. He had almost dozed off when he heard other voices speaking in English.