by Frank Harris
Among the daily tasks of the housewife, one, and by no means the least of her duties, is to receive, duly acknowledge, and return in a suitable manner, the presents received in the family. Presents are not confined to special seasons. Children visiting in the family are always given toys. For this purpose a stock is kept on hand. The present giving culminates at the close of the year when all friends and acquaintances exchange gifts of value according to their feelings and means. Should there be anyone who has been especially kind, and to whom return should be made, this is the time to do it.
The Japanese mother takes great delight and comfort in her children, and the right directions of their habits and manners is her constant thought and care. She seems to govern them entirely by gentle admonition, and the severest chiding that is given them is always in a pleasant voice, and accompanied by a smiling face. Even with plenty of servants, the mother performs for her children nearly all the duties often delegated to nurses in other countries.
From my beautiful attendant I learned everything connected with sex in that wondrous country. She taught me that sexual modesty, as we understand it, is utterly unknown in Japan and China. She brought me to the geisha ya the establishments where dancing girls are trained before they are let out by the day or evening to tea-houses or private parties. She had been trained in one of these from the age of seven by the woman proprietor, and she was one of the best dancers I had ever seen.
She took me to professional storytellers or hanashika, just as she took me too to favorite spots near Tokyo to see the famous cherry blossoms in April and May. Thousands of visitors crowd to Uyeno Park for the cherry and peach blossoms, to Kameido for the plum and wisteria, and to Oji for its famous maple trees. A prize fight near London, or a horse race would hardly attract a larger crowd and would scarcely be more educative. My guide made me understand gradually that Japanese civilization was higher than the English save in the one essential of religion.
Through the knowledge of Japan, I learned what Christianity with its care for the individual soul had done for women.
The moment we spoke of sex, her revelations became extraordinary. I asked her during the first days how she had lost her maidenhead. She told me that one of the schoolmistresses had approached her when she was thirteen and had soon kissed all her virginity away. This woman had used tongue and fingers, but had also schooled her in the use of artificial means to stimulate pleasure. For instance, she had brought with her a rod of polished ivory that was masterfully worked into the shape of a man's organ, complete with balls and even a fringe of hair. When she had licked the nearly bald pussy of her young charge, and stretched those tender lips with her fingers, she had inserted the end of this device and begun to work it in and out. She fed more and more of it into the hungry maw in which it was embedded until the pleasure it elicited was so great that my lover had begged her schoolmistress to stop. That had been the beginning of her education in the mysteries of the flesh. She told me never to go with anyone in the Yoshiwara. If I wanted anyone, she would soon find out if they were healthy or not and let me know.
“But,” she said, “you are rich, you can have a lovely girl whenever you like without any danger. Why run any risk?”
At length, shamefaced, I said: “Could you find me one?”
“A dozen,” she replied laughing, “more seductive than I am.”
In the long run she brought me a girl exquisitely pretty and amiable, but no better in sexual matters than herself. From that moment on I determined to remain devoted to my little attendant, and though I was unfaithful once or twice, for the greater part of my stay in Japan I contented myself with her.
There was nothing in the way of sex she did not know. She delighted in showing herself to me and was not averse to explaining that when she liked a man, her cunt thrilled and plagued her all day long.
“Do you ever touch it?” I asked.
“What good would that do?” she replied. “When I touch it myself, I feel almost nothing, but when you touch it, I go nearly mad.”
I soon found that her pussy, like those of the others, was very small, but she assured me that this was a mere question of race.
“The Chinese,” she said, “are far larger than the Japanese.” But passion, she always insisted, was a question of temperament and not of bodily organs. In time I came to agree with her. “Often,” she said, “you make me feel so intensely that my womb comes down to meet you and the inside of my thighs quivers and is sensitive for hours afterwards. I shall be so unhappy when you go away. I would rather die than live and yet I know that you will not, cannot stay here much longer. What am I to do when I can see you no more?”
What was I to say or do? To the best of my ability I consoled her. But before I went, she introduced me to her friend, one of the most charming girls I have ever met. She was not one of the prettiest, though her figure was superb, and her face was hardly more than piquant and interesting. But she was full of tricks and whimsies of all sorts. The first time we met she told me she thought it “disgusting” when I kissed her. Kissing was a dirty Western custom, she said, but she had no other reservations and showed an individuality of feeling that fascinated me.
She told me curious things: She never wished to give herself to a man until he said or did something that won her. After that there was no resistance. “For instance,' she said, “I saw you kiss my friend's hand, and the courtesy and gentleness of it woke desire in me.”
Shortly afterwards, I took her into the bedroom. She stripped without a word, but when I had kissed her a little while she grew wild.
“I want everything,” she said, but when she got it she came back to the kissing. I fucked her hard. Perhaps this was a response to the revulsion she said she had when I kissed her. Interestingly, she had no such reservation when it came to having my cock buried in her pussy. She accepted all of me graciously, acting to heighten my pleasure as I plowed her by raising herself up to me so that I penetrated more deeply and slapped her upturned buttocks with my balls. She continued to adamantly turn her face away as I lowered mine to kiss her, even when she seemed in the throes of debilitating passion. But I did manage to clamp my lips to hers during one particularly forceful down stroke, after which she relaxed in my arms and seemed to capitulate.
“I had no idea,” she cried, “that kissing means more to girls, excites us more than anything else. You have no idea what it means to me. I feel as if I were going mad! Have you done it to any other girl?”
“To many,” I replied. “Some respond as you do, but the majority are comparatively cold.”
“Oh pshaw!” she exclaimed, “you kiss them and let them touch you at the same time and they won't want anything better in life.”
I said to her: “I want you to feel as much as you can. You are beautifully made. I want you to reach the ultimate. Tell me how.”
“Begin slowly,” she said, “and keep on till I tell you to stop.”
And so I did. After a quarter of an hour kissing her pussy and licking inside the pink lips, she began to sigh and squirm and at length she cried: “Stop, stop. I can't stand any more. I'm getting hysterical now and that frightens me!”
My chief pleasure has always been in giving pleasure to girls, for the spasm of delight of a man is too quickly over and brings with it an extraordinary weakness and tiredness that does not disappear for some time. A woman however, feels little exhaustion.
When I think of the devotion of my beautiful attendant, I am always astonished. She loved me, yet never showed any sexual jealousy. On one of the first occasions she brought a pretty geisha to me she said: “She is pretty but I don't think you'll care for her.” Then she got her to lie down and exposed her pussy. “You see,” she said, parting the moist lips, “she's not very small and she takes a long time to excite.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Because I tried with my tongue before bothering you with her. But she wanted to come anyway, thinking, I suppose, her eyes would win you.�
�� The girl's eyes were indeed very pretty.
Barring exact detail, I think I have said enough to show the extent of my debt to my little Oriental angel. It remains only for me to describe one heavenly night which I spent in her company.
To be precise, there was another girl present, another friend whom she had selected carefully for our night of love. “Look!” she said when she produced this friend. “She is really worth love! Her cunt is tighter than mine and with one touch it is all aflame!”
As I stood gazing at these two adorable creatures, each one nude, each perfect in her own way, I felt a tremendous desire stir in my loins.
“And don't think I'm going to leave you alone with her!” my lover laughed merrily. “Who knows? Both of us together may be able to keep you here in Kyoto! For I know you love me, Frank, and if what you say about your Western women is true, I don't understand why you wish to return to them. Now, use us, dear, just as you please!”
For a moment I was too dumbfounded to move! These two superb creatures with their pale, lemon-yellow skins, their neat hips, their perfect breasts, and their almost identical heads, set high on smooth, proud necks and capped by neat bells of blue-black hair. I had never before been offered so much and so delightfully! As I say, I was for a moment incapable of the slightest movement. But at last I said: “Stand where you are, close together, facing me!”
They laughed prettily and did as they were bid. Quickly, I removed my own clothes so that I stood naked before them, my cock standing out straight. My eyes were hypnotized by the twin cunts, by the neat chevrons of silky dark hairs which clung close to their lower bellies and disappeared in a neat point at the junction of their thighs, and even more perhaps by the beautiful ivory smoothness of the bellies themselves, indented neatly at their centers by the prettiest of navels. I moved over to them, and, falling on my knees in front of them, I encircled the smooth buttocks of each with either arm. The choice was before metwo pretty pussies, delicately scented after a manner in which only Japanese women know how, at the level of my doting lips!
“Taste us in turn!” my own sweet lover laughed delightedly. “Her firstshe is the guest!”
With my forehead against the warm belly of the other woman, I allowed my lips to mingle with her silky hairs, parting them with my tongue to find her sweet-smelling little clitoris.
Both girls laughed prettily and spoke in Japanese.
“What are you saying?” I said, faintly annoyed.
“Only that you will have to dig deep to find the gold!” exclaimed my friend in her lilting voice.
At that very moment my tongue, moving tentatively between the delicately fringed lips of the girl's sex, tasted an indescribable sweetness. I allowed it to slide into the slit and into the soft depths. Imagine my 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.