“The other thing you will notice is how all these Japanese women love men and more than anything love to pamper men. I’ve never seen the like—the mentality of Japanese women is so refreshing. Not only are they raw sexual animals under that facade of demure shyness, but they simply know so much more than white girls—these Japanese girls know of hidden pleasure points on a man’s body that you don’t even know you have. And they can excite a man far more intensely and for a far longer period of time; they are simply sublime. Their attitude is based on the greater pleasure they give to the man the greater their self-esteem—essentially the opposite of white women.”
Albert paused and looked into the middle distance and smiled one of his rare smiles as Nasherton listened intently.
After a decent interval, the two men returned to their guests.
The four girls all thanked the men for the wonderful cake and the delicious champagne.
The one with the very large chest had taken her jacket off. While doing so, both men noticed her nipples were now larger than ever, and she could see the two men saw this and this made her even more excited to show off her raw excitement to them. It was like a bullfight in extremely slow motion, the teasing and the toying and the languid passes of the cape.
Nasherton meandered over to Albert who was by now standing at the window smoking a cigar.
“I want the little one first.”
Albert looked at him, “The one with the huge tits?”
Nasherton nodded.
“Yes. Yes, wise choice as she is the hottest of the four, but I suggest you have her last,” Albert said with an air of authority.
Nasherton wryly smiled, “So, you have vetted all, have you?”
Albert smiled and said, “James, do you expect me not to have ensured all are of the first water?”
At this Nasherton laughed, “You are one of a kind, Albert.”
“She loves it front or back and she loves two men at once. Get her on her back some time tonight and watch her tits move—they are like two eggs in a frying pan as the pan is shaken. When you’re on top, grasp her arms, as circus acrobats do, so you can pull her towards you. She loves that, and she is extremely loud. Their loudness is one thing that differentiates these girls from white girls.”
“Two eggs, yes, I know what you mean. Loud, that’s wonderful,” Nasherton acknowledged.
“By the by old boy, what are the girls’ names?
Albert explained, “Masayo is this short one with the huge chest; Mikui is the tall one; Suki is the one with the blonde highlights; Yuki is the one with the extremely pretty face. But you can forget about their names, as you will shortly see.”
Nasherton frowned good-naturedly, “If you say so, old boy.”
The room was extremely large. By the windows was a small writing desk. Looking out on the lake were two pairs of tall but narrow glass doors that reached from the floor to the ceiling, closing both pairs of doors blocked all sound from the outside. The room was dominated by a huge bed—it was large enough to comfortable sleep eight, but it was designed to hold, rather than sleep, eight.
Nasherton commented on the bed’s size, “Christ Alive, Albert, that’s a monster—we really need it all?”
Albert smiled and simply said, “Yes.”
The four girls finished their cake and the bottle of champagne had been emptied. One of the girls had put the bottle upside down into the ice bucket as she had seen Albert do at the Ritz in Paris. Albert—ever the technocrat—said to Nasherton, “the chocolate excites them and they weigh half as much as a man so it’s the same as if they had shared two bottles of champagne wine.”
Nasherton piped in, “and of course, bubbly is absorbed very quickly, so these four are all chomping at the bit, if you forgive the metaphor. I think it’s time to strike the colors.”
Albert nodded.
Nasherton went over to the girls—“like the cake?”
“Oh yes, it was the best we’ve ever had, sir—even better than in Paris,” said the tall one.
The “sir” made Nasherton more excited.
“Now why don’t you girls take your shoes off and all sit on the bed together? Then I have a little game we can all play.”
The four girls complied and before too long all four were giggling and sitting on the bed, all looking—and feeling—very relaxed and comfortable.
Nasherton turned off all the lights in the room apart from the small light on the writing desk by the window. Nasherton had opened the bottle of Bordeaux white wine the waiter had brought earlier with an ice bucket.
“People generally don’t appreciate the white Bordeaux, this white wine is so often ignored—say ‘Bordeaux’ and everyone always thinks of the reds,” he said as he poured himself and Albert each a glass.
“Now, girls, the champagne has relaxed you and it is warm and safe here. What I want you to do Masayo and Suki is to remove the jackets and undo the blouses of the other two girls to entertain Albert and me, but very, very slowly please. You must go very, very slowly. We are not in a race this evening, you understand?”
This instantly led to four pairs of hands in front of four faces, and more giggling. It was, as all in the huge room knew, the protocol of graceful—but entirely artificial—innocence. It was play acting of a reluctance that was completely false—the four girls were each dying to feel a man inside them and deep inside them—“to hit the top of my roof” as one said later.
With a speed that made a lie of the giggles, the two girls started undressing the other two girls.
By now James and Albert were sitting on each side of the small side table, sipping the chilled white Bordeaux.
Nasherton confided to Albert, “This is the part I love most, the slow teasing. And this is where you really see the quality of the girl—all can get on their backs and do the completion, but few can properly tease a man. This is the start of the gold medal event, like in Berlin in ’36 at your games.”
It was clear to Albert that Nasherton was both experienced and knowledgeable.
The two girls had removed first the jackets and then the creamy white blouses of the other two, but then there was a change to the plan: the other two then removed the blouses of Masayo and Suki, so all four girls were sitting on the bed in the brassieres and skirts—it was a very arousing sight.
From across the room, Nasherton said, “ladies, please take the shoulder straps of your brassieres down, very slowly please.”
This time there was no giggling as the soft light combined with the champagne had made the four young women even more excited. Now they wanted to exhibit themselves, to excite a man, to be ravished, to get the men to do what men are supposed to do to women. So Suki gently pulled her brassiere straps down and then, without being asked, she took her brassiere off. She had been sitting on the bed with her ankles crossed. When she removed her brassiere she uncrossed her ankles and put her right hand on the hem of her skirt, and she proceeded to pull her skirt up a little at first, and then more so the clips of her garter belt were showing. The very slow and elegant teasing was working; Nasherton smiled.
The other three girls did the same. Now the female carnal competitive instincts stirred—this was what the two men had been planning, and had been expecting; both men said nothing.
Far more than most men realize, women are sexually extremely competitive. This is especially true when two or more women are dishabille—they compete to entice the male to mount them first, and they will do just about anything to get the Téte de Cuvée of the man’s seed. And this was the case of the extremely randy four Japanese beauties—each wanted to be the first to get the full load of seed inside them, they all wanted the full load, not a paltry second, or the dribble of a third.