The Goddess Of Fortune

by Andrew Blencowe

  What both men noticed was the four girls were already excited. This was to be expected; whereas men are excited simply by visual physical beauty, women are far more sophisticated in this area—power, and the confidence to wield that power are what excite all women. In fact, the nipples on the short one with the very large 33EE bust were already boldly standing forth even through her Chanel jacket, not just minor bumps that could be occasionally glimpsed for a second in a perfect light by a timid, blinking schoolboy, but rather two hard pebbles proudly standing clear for everyone to see.

  Nasherton was an old hand at this; he had handled—“entertained” was his euphemism—four girls simultaneously on a number of occasions; in Paris as well as in Capri. Paris had been disappointing, and Capri was as bad, for in both cases the white girls clearly had no interest and were simply watching the clock; if whores could only realize that the way to a men’s heart is though his trousers—an investment of just a few weeks of carefully concocted amorous attention could easily lead to a very expensive divorce in a year or two, but most working girls only wanted to leave they second they were paid.

  Nasherton thought these Japanese girls looked different. Time would tell.

  “Oh my, Albert, you have truly outdone yourself. I thought the two German starlets were outstanding, but I have never seen women such as these. How on earth did you get hold of them?”

  Before Albert could answer there was a polite knock on the door.

  Albert opened the outer door of the suite. The Swiss waiter from the restaurant on the ground floor rolled in a table covered with a starched white linen tablecloth. On the table were four servings of the house’s specialty—Vevey chocolate cake.

  Also on the cart in an ice bucket was a bottle of Dom Pérignon 1921. Nasherton whistled, “Oh God, a ‘21; that’s got to be one of the finest years ever.”

  Albert agreed.

  Ever the connoisseur, Nasherton explained the importance of the 1921 vintage to the girls, who looked to him like they were dutiful school girls cramming for an important examination. Nasherton himself took a sip, and confirmed the glorious bouquet of the ‘21—the vanilla and sandalwood. But Nasherton did not linger, he—like Albert—realized the goal was to relax the young ladies to make them all the more excited, and all the more pliable.

  “So ladies, enjoy this wonderful vintage and your cake, we have some men’s talk to do. But please take your time to relax and enjoy the wonderful Swiss chocolate cake. Please, take your time.”

  Albert and Nasherton repaired to the other room in the suite.

  “I say old boy, those girls are all absolutely first rate. You must explain how you came across them.”

  Albert explained,

  “I’ve put Gabrielle Chanel up at The Ritz. She’s getting her own suite in a few weeks, but she is currently in suite 254, and I’ve made sure she is completely happy—you know these fashion types are actually very simple to please, once you get past the initial pretensions and bombast. Her current suite is the one used by the American writer Fitzgerald, to write his book The Great Gatsby. I had the girls spend a few weeks with Gabrielle, for just a little more polishing: hair, shoes, and all those things that makes for a perfect lady, not really necessary with these Japanese girls, but could not hurt. One thing you will notice tonight is the exquisite softness of these girls’ skin—and that no Japanese woman ever suffers from cellulite. I don’t know the reason, perhaps it is the diet with all the fish. I don’t know but compared even to the two starlets, these girls are head and shoulders above. And compared to white women, these girls’ skin is amazing, as is the level of excitement.”

  “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.

  In less than a minute all four girls were sitting upright on edge of the huge bed wearing only their garter belts, stockings, and skirts. And by now all four had hitched their skirts up. Masayo’s skirt was all the way up to her garter belt and while her knees were getting further and further apart as she got more and more excited. She was clearly inviting the men to ravish her, and to do so now. And her nipples were like two very large peas—so round and hard.

  All of this the two men took in and enjoyed, savoring their wine. The men’s lack of action now teased the girls. “My pearl was aching so much, she wanted to feel a man inside her,” Masayo later confided to Albert.

  Little in life could match this incandescent level of pleasure—the power the two men felt as they watched the four girls vie with each other for the men’s attention.

  (And as both men knew from experience, it was going to get very loud, very soon.)

  It had started with Masayo, but very soon all four girls had hitched their skirts up to their waists. As none was wearing panties, their dark shadows were clear to see, even in the modest soft light of the writing desk’s lamp.

  Nasherton stood and walked over to the bed.

  The first girl—it was Suki—looked up and brought her knees up, her hands were now on her knees and she opened her legs. Her breasts were round, sagging the slightest amount, and her breathing shortened; she was more than ready.

  Nasherton then walked around the foot of the bed to the other side, to review Masayo who was in same position. Nasherton could not help but notice a small dark patch on the strict and starched white hotel sheets. James smiled—Masayo was so excited that some of her juices had already made a small wet spot—there were no panties to absorb the wetness. As Nasherton approached, Masayo slowly moved her hands from her knees, up her inner thigh to her garter belt. It was easy for her to use her fingers to open her lips. At the top of her lips Nasherton could see her large round pink pearl. James smiled—he had seen some large clits in his time, but this was by far the largest, and all of her lower lips were dashed with wetness. Nasherton decided she would be the last one “in the rotation”—by forcing her to be last she would be begging for it, just as Albert had recommended.

  This mock inspection took minutes and the girls were getting more and more excited.

  Albert, still seated, then said, “Girls, please show James our little surprise.”

  This time their level of excitement (and their desire to be serviced, and serviced as soon as possible) trumped any faux modest giggles.

  The four girls stood up from the edge of the bed and removed their skirts, placing the skirts in a neat pile on the large chair in the corner of the room. All four girls wore identical white garter belts and white stockings.

  The four girls stood naked apart from their garter belts and stockings. Nasherton noticed a curious thing: their feminine hairs had all been trimmed short, but even more curious was that they had been shaved in such a way that they each had roman numerals from “I” to “IIII.”

  Nasherton laughed at this piece of theater, and said, “Albert, this reminds me of one of my trips to Hong Kong. I was at one of the better whore houses in Kowloon where all the girls wore just an enameled medallion with a number hanging around their necks on a brass chain. I seem to remember I had Number 5 and Number 17 that night. But your approach, Albert, is more in keeping with the spirit of the event.”

  “Thank you ladies, please sit down on the bed together, please,” Nasherton requested.

  The two men could see each of the four was slowly going mad with desire to feel a man inside her.

  Nasherton smiled and said, sotto voce, “we are driving them crazy.”

  Albert nodded. Nasherton poured more white wine, and said,

  “Leave the girls stew in their own juice, as it were, for a moment.”

  (He knew that the forced delay would make all four lubricate even more.)

  The two men’s attention now returned to the four girls who were now so excited that they were all giggling and panting. Nasherton noticed with approval that the presence of these two powerful men had affected the other three girls as well: the three other girls now all had tiny wet dots under them, although they all tried to hide their wet spot—Power As The Ultimate Aphrodisiac.

  Albert asked how they liked meeting Coco.

  At the mention of Gabrielle Chanel’s name, the girls burst into a plethora of thanks.

  The room was not cold, but now all the girls’ nipples were taut and erect. The teasing phase was the one all men enjoy the most. And knowing that the sensation would be one of a very smooth entry into an extremely wet, b
ut at the same time young and tight, Japanese gem.

  And the girls were so excited, as they constantly crossed and uncrossed their legs, not out of modesty, but to be able to increase their excitement by squeezing themselves.

  Albert sat at the writing table with the still chilled Bordeaux white, smoking. He was interested to see Nasherton’s play acting with the girls. After a long while, Nasherton removed his suit jacket and sat on the bed evenly dividing the girls into two pairs. Masayo—the short one with the huge chest—was first to act, which was not surprising as she was already starting to pant, and the panting was not light—her breathlessness was not forced and the panting made her huge chest rise and fall ever so slightly. She was panting just from anticipation—neither man had actually touched her. Uncontrollable desire on her part made her recklessly—her hand on Nasherton’s knee as a matter of formality. Then, instantly, she slid it all the way up and she was confidently stroking him. She wore her hair in an elegant Parisian page-boy bob; the color was a very dark brown with the slightest hint of some blonde highlights, the overall effect was dazzling. The instant she started stroking Nasherton—and Nasherton was very hard—Masayo’s panting increased and she leant over and kissed Nasherton’s neck, brushing against him with her nipples.

  During this foreplay and teasing, the other three girls were undressing Nasherton so his hands were free to first cup, and then squeeze Masayo’s huge breasts. Nasherton found them to be soft but surprisingly firm, and he himself was getting even harder. After Suki had wiggled off Nasherton’s trousers, after first having removed his shoes, Masayo got on her knees and put Nasherton into her mouth. At first, just the head, and then all the shaft—she loved that slight gagging when a big man’s head reached her throat. Naturally enough, Nasherton had some early milk, which she licked with the tip of her tongue—a little salty but not unpleasant, she thought.