astonishment when a perfectly delightful ichor spread about my taste buds! The nearest I can come to the description of it is to say that it had the consistency of honey and tasted of violet and rose-leaves. At the same time I was conscious of the girl's quiver under my caress.
“You darlings!” I cried. “What have you done to yourselves?”
“An old love secret,” my lover explained. Then she added: “Why don't you take us both to the divan where we can be comfortable and relax. If my guess is correct, you will want to explore us both in this way for a long time!”
How right she was! The divan was a broad one. I lay between them with my feet towards their heads, or rather, so that my prick, rampant now with the urgency of the situation, was on a level with their mouths. I tasted first one and then the other, exploring, sucking, savoring, while they, darling lovers that they were, moved about my loins with their soft mouths, teasing my body into ecstasy. Soon both pussies became sticky and wet under my mouth, four lovely thighs rose upwards to allow deeper and more intimate penetration, and the coral lips of the young and small bushes opened like wet and loving mouths, much as flowers might, to exude the sweetest of ichors. If I had to say what liquid came nearest in my imagination to the mythical ambrosia, I would say that the natural liquid distilled in those warm ruby sheathes, mingling with the potion they had secreted there to lure me on, was undoubtedly the one. My lips were afire with lust to taste more deeply, more urgently, spreading the love juice amongst the shining hairs and onto the soft, delicately female-scented thighs.
How lovely those thighs were, loose and lascivious, falling, moving like the slow tentacles of an underwater plant. Simultaneously, my own loins seemed besieged by the gentlest attack of butterflies, with one maiden taking my member between her wet and cushioned lips and the other, patient and doting between my buttocks, tracing the delicate skin of my love-sock with the gentlest of tongues. Indeed, I quite forgot which pussy was which, so I had no opportunity of showing preference!
That was the beginning. As my tonguing became more purposeful, my upper lips working the clitoris as my tongue delved deep among the ambrosia, each in her turn rose to a frantic climax, the torso quivering in rapture, the twin sighs, and I, my hands close to the bare buttocks, drawing each warm, sweet mass of honeyed pussy hair to my face. I licked deeply, stabbing first one throbbing canal, and then the other.
In this way, over a period of an hour, I raised them each three times to the highest pitch of ecstasy. I discharged twice under their twin caress, my sperm swallowed lovingly by the girls in turn. To my dismay, I found that they were only eager for more, only eager to make a perpetual night of this almost religious adoration!
Reluctantly, I rose from between them.
“You've quite tired me out, you darlings!” I groaned. “Although I reached my climaxes without effort, I feel as though I have been drained dry of all my passion!”
My lover laughed and her friend joined her in her merriment.
“What do you wish us to do to excite you?” my companions murmured engagingly.
I laughed. And then I had an inspiration.
“Let me see you make love to one another then!” I cried.
“Of course!” the girls agreed. In an instant they were in each other's arms, their bellies pressed together and their little breasts with the superbly-shaped nipples nuzzling, rubbing into each other and causing such a friction that I had no doubt that they were both in ecstasy. Much to my surprise, they each fought to play the male role, wrestling with their thighs and arms to attain dominance. What a peculiar desire that was, that two such adorable women, taken in an impulse to make love to one another, should each seek to deny her own sex! I burst out laughing. But they did not appear to be aware of me. They fought like wildcats, each trying to mount the other, at the same time trying to pry the other's thighs apart.
In the end, it was my own lover who succeeded in bettering the other. Her little bottom was poised nearly between the other's thighs before their clitties stabbed together to awaken the frenzy of passion which lay in the depth of their wombs. At that point, the other gave way. She allowed her thighs to fall apart helplessly, surrendered herself to be taken, or seemingly so, for of course the girls were quite incapable of penetrating one another and had to be content with the high-pitched but unfinal climax which is afforded by clitoral excitement.
My thoughts returned to my first night in Japan when the waitress-chambermaid had handed me the stiff brush. The idea came to me that I could excite myself by whipping them while they were locked together in their lust, for though the spectacle interested me greatly, it had little or no aphrodisiac effect. Glancing around the room, my eyes alighted on a thin bamboo that supported a fern native to Japan which stood in the corner. I swiftly untied it from the plant and drew it out of the earth. I tested it once or twice in the air. It was supple and its resilience remarkable.
I returned to the divan where the lovers still wrestled in their mock sex-battle. I raised the cane and brought it down with all my force on the ripe buttocks of my own little darling who, poor dear, paid a high price for her triumphant assertion of manhood. She squealed and rolled aside. Without hesitation, I delivered a second blow, this time on the downy soft bottom of her friend.
At first I was not sure if they enjoyed the whipping, but it soon became obvious to me that they did. It served to increase their excitement to new and greater intensity. For one thing, it made a real battle of their lustful embrace and that they wished it to continue could not be questioned, for if they had not, it would have been the easiest thing in the world for them to break away from one another. But they made no attempt to do so. On the contrary, they goosed and kissed and licked one another all the more passionately, their encounter intensified in its passion by the competitive spirit the cruel bamboo introduced. I think I can say with all honesty that the girls would never have experienced such pleasure in one another's arms had it not been for the added element which my passion brought to it. By the time I had delivered two dozen slick strokes, my cock had swelled to enormous proportions.
I cannot be said to have thought about what I did next except in so far as I was determined to be counseled by the rules of fair play. My next “victim' the word, as it happens, hardly appliedwas to be the one who had momentarily gained the ascendancy, or, as each was now fighting to be the inferior to escape the switch, just the reverse. But, as their change of position was automatic in that it depended upon who was the recipient of the last stroke of the cane, I threw it away from me and waited a full two minutes before making my next move.
Not thirty seconds had gone by before the girls, realizing that the cane was no longer being wielded, readjusted themselves to the new situation and fought again like wildcats, each to be the male. This time, for one reason or another, it was my lover's accomplice who gained the ascendancy and her round buttocks, wealed now where she had received her cuts, was bobbing like a cork between my pretty darling's thighs. I hesitated a moment longer to see that the position was well established. Then, throwing myself on top of the girl, my fingers sought the bud between her buttocks and guided my cock to the point from where it could plunge inwards.
One more hesitation to balance myself and I thrust inwards with all my might. The pretty girl immediately tried to writhe away from between us, but her movement was forbidden by the encircling clamp of four arms. Meanwhile, my tool was sunk right up to the hilt in the grip of her anal ring. I plunged in and out, riding her as though she were a stallion. I pulled back and rammed forward again and again until my engorged shaft seemed virtually wedged in that tight canal. I felt my sperm rise as the girls continued to work on each other. By an amazing stroke of good fortune, all three of us reached our climax simultaneously.
“You were wonderful, dear!” my little lover said when it was all over, and her friend shared her opinion.
“You really enjoyed the cane then?” I asked seriously, for I wished to know for the future. I would not for the world have hurt either of these delicate creatures who had afforded me such pleasure.
“Of course, silly! Most Westerners just don't seem to realize that some of the highest pitches a woman attains are dependent upon an element of cruelty.”
“I've always thought,” her friend said in her Pidgin English, “that your Western women miss all real pleasure because they do not know the meaning of submission!”
We all laughed. During the night I made love to them both again, but separately this time. One I fucked in the normal fashion; the other let me shoot my sperm into her mouth. In the morning when her friend left, I insisted that she accept a little present of twenty pounds. We often repeated that kind of night, with a hundred other variations, but I fear there is no further time, nor perhaps need to go on with it. At last, with great reluctance, I was forced to leave Japan. When I did so, I gave my darling girl enough to make her independent. Taken all in all, she was one of the best endowed and most charming women I have ever met; to her friend, too, I was more than generous according to Japanese standards.
As I sailed out of the harbor, I indeed felt that I was leaving a part of myself buried eternally in that
