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.
So there she sat on her heels, the blond tresses brushing loose on her sun-browned shoulders. The light blue eyes, strong features, the golden-tanned back and thighs of this softly voluptuous German Venus were a pleasure to behold. The girls were so busy with their game that they did not notice me at all. I pretended to be looking through the viewfinder in order to take photographs of the pier which was close by. Yet each time, as the shutter clicked, it was Katharine's image which filled the frame. You will think me boastful, Dolly, but I took such full and perfect portraits of her face, laughing and pensive, as an artist might envy. And then, of course, the girls had just been bathing in the sea. Katharine's costume was made of thin russet brown cotton. It clung like a second skin to her soft damp body. The detailed photographs of her plump young breasts showed every curve and line through the wet costume. It was clearly visible in the prints that the cold sea had erected her nipples in the most wanton yet provoking fashion! Having taken the first set I squatted down, some half dozen feet behind Katharine as she knelt, and pretended once again to be puzzling with the workings of the camera. How one might adore the bare sheen of the girl's sun-browned and sand-dusted back! Those strong young legs and fleshy hips! When you see the photographs you will notice that she wears a gold slave chain round her left ankle. For which lucky lad in Cologne is that kept? Katharine is so soft-hipped that the elastic waistband of her briefs dents the flesh quite deeply. Imagine then, how fully she fills her skimpy pants! My chance came a moment later. In order to pile the wet sand against the victim, each girl had to lift her hips from her heels and go forward on all fours. When Katharine did so, I thought my prick would fairly burst open my trousers. The damp cotton of the brown briefs clung to the fat-cheeked view of Katharine's bottom! Did ever a girl offer herself like this except to her lover in their honeymoon passion? Twice-and thrice-the shutter clicked while she was in this posture, our blonde Rhinemaiden's backside and bare thighs filling the entire plate! To speak plainly, Katharine is not to every man's taste. Yet for those who like a modern Rubenesque beauty, athletic and sun-browned, she is a perfect object of amusement. I felt a surge of delight, aware that I now had enough evidence of her scandalous public display to require a private and intimate encounter between us! In a short while, Dolly, you shall be the possessor of a set of these full-plate prints!
Imagine how you might cover the wall of your study with a display of such provoking postures-as I have already done! At this point the girls ended their game and went back up to the pebbles where their clothes and towels had been left. My attention now turned to fifteen-year-old Claudia-and with good reason. By contrast with the plump charms of Katharine, Claudia has that beauty which most appeals to me-the perfection of the nymph. The first photographs show the allure of her lively eyes and trim features, the perfection of a face whose proportions run from wider cheekbones to a firm round chin. I know you must share my admiration of her prettily tousled brown hair, curling over her forehead, its thickness cut short at her nape.
At her present stage of development, Claudia's figure has the elasticity and resilience of youth. Yet though she has not quite blossomed into full femininity, the lines of womanliness are already visible in her adolescent form. Of the two girls, she would be my choice and I shall be most reluctant to see her return to her grammar school in Dusseldorf! I was walking across the pebbles, no more than ten feet behind the girls, when Claudia knelt down to smooth out the towel upon which she was going to lie. My view of her, as she sat on her heels in the elastic tightness of her emerald green briefs and breast-halter, was breath-stopping. Her young shoulders, back, and legs are more lightly sun-tanned than Katharine's. Moreover, Claudia still displays a narrow-waisted elegance, the delicate bone-pattern of her spine prettily contoured. Yet like so many German girls, Claudia already has that softness of hips which may lead to fatness in ten years time. The dampness of the briefs made them fit like skin over her flanks and arse-halves, the elastic waist denting her nubile skin a little. I had taken one or two portraits of this view when Claudia raised herself and knelt forward on all fours. What a delicious sight she offered, Dolly! How could any warm-blooded man not want to feel her under his hands and loins? She knelt with her bare knees apart a little, the cheeks of her backside, rounded and broadened in a most womanly manner. Yet once again, it was the soft pussy-flesh between the thighs, so clearly moulded by the damp green briefs, which caught one's attention first. I was able to take several close-up photographs of this view in which the details have come out with astonishing clarity. The bare soles of her feet are pretty enough to kiss, nor should one hesitate to nuzzle them. Following her thighs to their tops there is such a sweet plumpness of their inner surfaces just before her legs join. I propose to kiss and tongue-tickle her there this summer, Dolly, to taste the sea upon the young flesh and to savour the mineral tang of Claudia's own body. And who could possibly allow the adolescent cheeks of Claudia's bottom such useless labour as sitting on the bench of the Dusseldorf academy? Had she been my slave, Dolly, and this the beach of my seraglio-as Don Juan found one-I should have detained her in this pose while I took out my prick and inserted it up the leg of her briefs to begin its voyage of exploration. You and I, my dear friend, know the means whereby such girls may be spirited away to a secure house-there to serve the pleasures of its master. You will not, I venture, find such a place in Eastbourne or Brighton. Yet I urge you, Dolly, to see if some such fate may not be arranged for Claudia. I grant you she is a demure young lady as yet, but that ought not to save her from such a delightful bondage. A whipping across her bottom from time to time would not only add to her owner's amusement. By obliging Claudia to submit, it will infallibly increase her own pleasures. Do, my dear Dolly, see if something of this sort cannot be arranged in her case!
In a little while, she and Katharine got up and ran down to the incoming tide, splashing into it and getting up to all sorts of healthy frolics. As they came back and walked up the beach to where I chanced to be standing, it was only natural that I should aim the camera and take several more shots of these two playful girls. As she noticed this, a shadow of doubt and dismay crossed Katharine's face.
She turned to Claudia and they stood together, talking in a solemn and subdued manner with many a glance in my direction. They had not the least idea that I was the director of the establishment they attended-an amorous tyrant whom they had yet to meet! Presently, Claudia came up to me, with Katharine walking at a little distance behind. Although Claudia is the younger, she is already more proficient in the English tongue. “Excuse me,” she said, a little uncertain in her charmingly Germanic English, “I think you have been taking photographs of us. No?” I laughed hugely at this. “A man who takes scenes of the beach will necessarily take pictures of those who are upon
