text: Matsudaira Konnosuke, governor of Miyako, distant relative of the Shogun, had just lifted his mistress's skirt and was smelling the fresh flavor of her cunt when he was interrupted. A low voice on the other side of the translucent shoji door called out a message he heard only dimly. In any case, he was in no mood to be disturbed. He leaned forward and with his teeth gripped the silky blonde hairs before him, then pulled savagely. His tongue then slid out and bore through the delicate thicket to the slick pink lips below.
  
  The long robe was twitched aside, and his mistress's lovely face looked down indulgently at him. He screwed his eyes upwards but kept on with his licking.
  
  She trembled slightly and spread her perfect white thighs the better to accommodate him, but said, "I'm sorry love, but Okiku has just arrived, and Oko says she wants to see us urgently."
  
  He rose, slipping off his loincloth, which hung like a tent over the stiffness of his erection.
  
  "I've had a hard day. I hope this is important. You told Oko to let her in, I suppose..." A vagrant thought crossed his mind. "There's still plenty of time before she gets here from the postern gate..."
  
  His hand shot out and entrapped one of her large, perfectly shaped tits. He swept his foot forward roughly and pushed with his hips. She fell on her ass with a thump, too startled to use the yawara roll he had been teaching her. Parting her thighs roughly, he pushed her torso back with his shoulder, then thrust his cock bruisingly into her still-dry crack. One hand clamped on to her breast through the brocade robe she wore, and the other curved into a claw and gripped her thigh.
  
  She giggled, pleased at the sudden attack; then the giggle turned to a gasp of pleasure as his long meat filled her hungry chasm.
  
  "I want to come now, before Okiku arrives!" He thrust at her with every word, and his mouth descended cruelly to her full red lips. She turned her head aside at the last minute, but her reflexes had already taken over before she could say what was on her mind. The trained muscles of her wonderful cunt clenched around the stem that filled her. Ripples of muscular action ran down the walls of her insides, milking the gluey shaft. Her thighs clutched his muscular buttocks. He grinned with anticipation, knowing that just lying there, she could milk him dry in seconds.
  
  "A minute," she breathed into his ear. "Why not have Okiku join us? You've not seen her for some time."
  
  He reared back and slapped her full breasts as he'd been taught. His body rocked on hers. "That, too," he agreed. "But now I want you!"
  
  Rosamund clutched at him and her wonderful vaginal muscles set to work again. She sucked at his mouth and tongue as her lower mouth sucked deliciously at his cock. In a few moments it was over. A rush of sperm started from his balls. He writhed and curved over her blonde form, trying to contain the pleasure to the last moment, then burst. Rosamund's insides were inundated with a flood of hoarded male juices. The pleasure was so intense that Matsudaira cried out as her interior muscles milked the last drops from his pole.
  
  Okiku entered the room through a sliding shoji door, to find both her friends sitting demurely and sipping tea. She bowed, then knelt on the proffered cushion. She looked at two of the three people she cared for most in the world. Matsudaira Konnosuke she knew better as Goemon, and preferred him thus. He was dressed in a loose summer robe of white, bordered with a deep indigo pattern of waves and octopuses. His legs were crossed loosely before him, and the open robe showed a shapely length of thigh below and a muscular bronze chest above. His face was smooth, the lines of his features clean and sharp. His forehead had been newly shaven that morning, but his glossy topknot was unusually awry.
  
  Facing her was one of her two female friends. Rosamund was Matsudaira Konnosuke's prisoner. But she also ruled his inner chambers with undisputed control. Okiku enjoyed looking at the foreign girl whenever she could, which was fairly often. A mass of blonde curls spilled down, framing a beautiful face with regular features. Eyes of an unusual color and shape—blue, and rounder than was natural—stared back at her. Rosamund was dressed in a rich brocade robe, tied rather carelessly. Her feet were tucked under her, and her hands rested on her lap. Okiku could not resist a quick glance at the blonde's neckline. She loved those large, pinkish white breasts, the tops of which she could see. They were so different from her own, and so beautiful. Hidden between the beautiful thighs, just kissing the golden-furred pink slit, Okiku knew of a tattooed red rose. No doubt it was now glistening with the couple's juices. She smiled at them and broke the silence.
  
  "After all these years, and you still can't tie a kimono properly!"
  
  Rosamund turned to Goemon and laughed. "Not when I'm in a hurry!"
  
  Okiku bowed. "For me?" she asked. "You could have stayed as you were. You know I love the sight." Then her mood changed. "Forgive me for disturbing you. I've had a message from Jiro. He has still not found Osatsuki, but he asks us to meet him at Koya-san. He is very cautious, and the message was by word of mouth, but there is something happening there..."
  
  Goemon chewed his lip thoughtfully. "It is not like the big man to call for help. Should we take some men with us, I wonder?"
  
  His response pleased Okiku. She knew that both her friends were as committed to Jiro as she was.
  
  "No, I don't think so; otherwise, he would have indicated the need. Only the three of us..."
  
  "It will take some doing," Goemon warned. "Fortunately it is after the court sessions for this week, and I can plead the need for some retreat from the heat... I'll go to Hiei-san again." In the past few years, Matsudaira Konnosuke had become somewhat devout. He had taken to performing long retreats in a minor hall of Hiei-san, the temple that topped the mountain northeast of Miyako, the old imperial capital. These retreats coincided with the activities of a certain wandering doctor, Goemon by name.
  
  "We will leave tomorrow at noon," he decided. "By then I will be able to finish all my official duties. I have a suggestion, though. Let us take palanquins. The travel is swifter, and more secluded."
  
  Okiku nodded, but Rosamund frowned. She did not like to be reminded that her movements were circumscribed by law: officially she was a prisoner, and in any case, the Shogun, it had been said, was considering enforcing the antiforeigner laws promulgated by his predecessors. Angrily, she bit her lip; then she bent forward to hide her emotion.