Anonymous: Aphrodizzia

And so she did, reaching her climax with a wild cry that was midway between a scream and a snarl! Gently I drew the tube from her arse, wiped her between the cheeks with paper from the roll by the bed, and dropped the paper on the floor. But Sonja had hidden her face in the silk cover now and was sobbing as if with shame at the exhibition she had made of herself. It was, of course, only the natural anticlimax which follows such ecstasy. I touched her hot and slippery cunt and began to stroke again gently. Her sobs broke out anew, as if she hated this! Yet Sonja would climax a dozen times before dawn broke, for I had decided upon that. Presently the sobs ceased, the first yearning sighs began softly once more, and her brown tanned hips moved gently in time to my fingers as I masturbated her. Then I gave her to Petra to suck. The eighteen-year-old blonde had her own “happy time”-the first of several on that restless night!-ten minutes later.

It was almost dawn when I left them, still fastened head-to-tail in the same manner and still playing with each other like a pair of charming and lascivious kittens! When I entered next morning, they were sleeping exhausted in their posture. Each girl's panties were still in a tangle round the middle of her thighs and she presented her bare hips in their upwards squat to her partner. How long had their loving continued? From telltale smears, it was evident that the wicked cigar tube had entered Petra's backside as well as Sonja's and that their cunts had yielded several more libations after my departure. To spare the silk cover of the bed, they had torn paper from the roll and wiped each other's love-juice. The scattered sheets of paper on the floor showed the evidence of this, as well as wiping off of vaseline from between Sonja's buttocks-and between Petra's nymphlike bum-cheeks too. They were drowsy and drugged by pleasure when they woke. Desire became a lethargy and they would not have chosen to leave the villa, even had this been permitted. They curled up together on the bed like two young animals in their contentment as I went to the Anhalter Bahnhof to meet Julia and Natasha. Have I not done well in making my arrangements for their stay here? Ah, my own Jack, as soon as I set eyes on those two delightful pupils, I knew that you had been as good as your word. Prim little Natasha at fourteen with her blond chignon, and Julia with her sullen looks and cropped comb of dark hair! I swear that if means can be found, they must not return to England. There are masters in the world who would pay handsomely for such a pair of slave-girls! What a waste to permit them two or three years more of sitting at a classroom desk.

By now, dear Jack, I hope my own “presents” to you will have arrived, even if you have not yet had the chance to unwrap them completely! Claudia at fifteen is charming, is she not? Her companion Katharine is rather a plump blond slut at seventeen. Elke is a young puss who merits close observation. Of the four, it is Helena who adopts the most haughty and self-possessed mien. Yet you would be surprised how easily those blue eyes can be made to look so apprehensively and with such dismay upon her fate. But I tell you things which you will guess for yourself as soon as you set eyes upon them. I await your first account of the girls with great expectation.

In a week at the most, I hope to have news for you of how Natasha and Julia have taken to the life of my sapphic “harem!” Your loving Dolly.

The arrival of several German beauties at Pineboume- Katharine and Claudia-A-voluptuous Rhinemaiden and a gamine nymph-Jack's first adventure with them-The master incognito-Katharine and Claudia in racy bathing-costumes-Jack's surreptitious photographs of the pair on the beach-A perfect pretext for undressing and chastising the two lovely girls. Dearest Dolly, Will you ever believe what I have to tell you now? At the very moment when I was expecting the arrival of the girls from Germany, Austria, low countries and Nordic wastes, I was called away to Town. My broker, who has for years thought Consols a good enough resting place for my funds, favoured a switch to the gold mines of the Rand. But as the price of those shares was about to rise, so he was told, we must act in short order. There was nothing for it but to leave the establishment here in the hands of my duenna and absent myself two whole days. On my return I thought it advisable to take a good look at the girls before allowing them to see me. I find this prudent, as a means of judging their conduct and characters without allowing them to know the identity of the “stranger” before whom they perform. How right I was to do this-and what an adventure it has led me into. I promise you I had no hope that our sport would begin so soon. Let me tell you all about it. On the afternoon following my return, I chose to make a reconnaissance of the beach, taking with me my Kodak which I always use on these occasions.

The girls had done their morning lessons with the duenna, Miss Leach, and had now been dismissed to the pleasures of the sea shore. I knew their appearances well enough from having peeped through the window at them during their studies, and so was easily able to recognise each.

July has brought perfect summer weather to the Sussex coast. The turf is warm on the downlands where the scattered flocks of sheep graze and the gorse is in yellow bloom. Sunlight glints on the calm waters of the English Channel and the band plays on the pier whose iron spider-legs extend into the breakers and shallows. Just now it is low tide in the afternoons, which is more agreeable. You may easily imagine how crowded the beach becomes with holiday folk from the grand hotels and humbler boarding-houses, not to mention those trippers from London whom the trains bring down for the day. The upper part of the beach between the wooden groins consists of pebble or shingle. Further down, where this slope ends, it is flat sand, which is covered when the tide is in. Yet when the rim of the sea is but a distant glitter, the broad expanse of damp sand is a capital place to walk or play-far below the crowded shingle. I walked along there, amused by the shouts and laughter of English girlhood wading and splashing in the shallows of low tide. From the bathing station to the pier and on to the edge of town, the beach was crowded with such pretty creatures. Here I caught only the faintest sounds of traffic where the grand hotels and flower gardens of the esplanade stood high above the wavelets. Such was my state of mind and the view before me, when I came upon the most delightful and seducing? sight of the entire afternoon. Far down on the beach, where the damp sand was no more than twenty feet from the ripple of the slack tide, I saw half a dozen of my German nymphs. They were cavorting almost naked in the most enticing manner. It was innocent enough, I suppose, and yet I began to think at once of the opportunities their “scandalous” conduct offered me. Two of them I recognised at once. Katharine, the plump and tall Rhinemaiden of seventeen with her sun-toasted flesh and the gently waved blond tresses brushing her shoulders. And Claudia, the nymph of fifteen with her crop of light brown hair and the heart-shaped beauty of her young face. What were they doing? All were dressed in the skimpiest fashion which only the healthy innocence of German culture would permit. They wore the “Roman” bathing suits which consist of a little breast-halter and pants which are tight as they are brief. Surely these were made for the privacy of the baths and not for a public display? However, one girl was sitting at the centre of the circle, while the others sat on their heels facing her. With shrill teenage laughter they scooped up the wet sand and began to pile it against her legs and hips, burying their laughing victim to the waist. I moved unobtrusively towards them, knowing how indignant I must later pretend to be at their display of themselves in breast-halters and briefs. The cap was off the lens of the camera and I was ready to begin. I chose Katharine first, in order to make a photographic record of her “depravity,” against which she could not argue. Picture the scene. Katharine must either accept the punishment allotted or else the sporty photographs of her arse and tits, almost naked, must be despatched to her sorrowing parents.