Author: Bob Williams Title: Haruka's Education Part: Chapter 11 of 20 Universe: The Megumi Stories Summary: A young girl is prepared for a career as a Japanese sex artist Keywords: Mf, exhib, Japan ===== HARUKA'S EDUCATION 11 By Bob Williams and Haruka Sekine CHAPTER XI The Chez Maria Story A few days later the kindly lady from Asakusa called to say the steel collar with connected nipple-clamps was ready for collection. The other item, being a more specialised and complex piece, would take longer. I was not sorry, as I doubted if the bank balance could stand the cost of both at the same time. I told Haruka immediately after our regular morning work-out with the whip, and she was delighted. "Can we go and collect it this morning? I'm longing to wear it!" "Yes. All right. But not directly. I want to take you to visit somewhere else first." "Where? Where?" "A sort of coffee-shop." "A coffee-shop? What's the point of that? We can have coffee here if you want it, then go straight to Asakusa. I want to spend more time there. There were other things in that dress-shop I need to look at again ..." "I'm sure there are. But the coffee-shop first. Then the equipment shop in Asakusa." "Beast! You're just trying to waste time so I can't buy more sexy clothes!" There was enough truth in this accusation to make argument unwise. "And you know you like it when I show off for you in clothes like that." I knew very well how much I liked it, and so did she. "And if you don't like me showing off there are lots and lots of other men who do!" I decided there was nothing for it but to assert my authority. "You will enjoy the coffee-shop," I said firmly, "and so will I. And I want to write about it. An article should make a bit of money and I need it, spending so much on you. So we're going, and that's final. Put some clothes on, and we'll start." The establishment was called Chez Maria, the mixture of French and Italian intended I suppose to hint at a flavour of European sophistication and good coffee. But the characteristic which made it different from thousands of similar places all over Japan, and suggested that it might be worth reporting on, was that from the start the waitresses had all been topless. Of course there was nothing unusual about toplessness, or full nudity for that matter, in Japan The sex business offered plenty of discreet hostess and striptease establishments employing girls like Haruka. But they provided evening and night-time entertainment, and most maintained at least a pretence of being private clubs open only to members. A daytime establishment serving coffee and snacks to anyone who chose to walk in, but seasoning them with the extra titillation of nudity, was a first - at least for Japan. The founder was a man called Izumi, or at least that was the name he chose to be known by. He had started in the _Hadaka Epuron_ or Naked Apron business, a strange name for an institution which was for a while a charming new idea in the constantly shifting Japanese sex scene - and yet another skirmish in the endless battle between young Japanese girls eager to make the most their blossoming sexuality and authorities fighting a losing battle to protect them from doing any such thing. If you have never visited a Naked Apron, let me explain that they were cafes or simple snack-bars where young schoolgirls were employed as the waitresses. The law can try to stop girls under eighteen from working professionally in the sex industry, but girls - even fourteen- or fifteen-year-olds - earning extra pocket-money by waiting at table are in an undefined area. It is in such gaps that progress is made in expanding sexual freedom in Japan. When I first came to Tokyo _Nopan Kissa_ or No-Panty Teashops were popular, the young waitresses in wide miniskirts reacting with charming coyness when customers gently checked that they were indeed wearing nothing underneath. The more expensive establishments added to the fun by installing mirrored floors. But these places had gone out of fashion, leaving a gap in the market which entrepreneurs in the sex business like Mr Izumi spotted and exploited in promoting Naked Apron cafes. As you have probably guessed, the attraction, to both the excited girl and the pleased customer, was that the young waitress wore only a frilly apron, tied in a neat bow round her slim waist and the upper part looped loosely round her neck - as loosely as possible so that while her breasts were theoretically covered they could be clearly seen from the side especially when she bent over the customer's table, which of course she took care to do as often as possible. She was supposed to cover her crotch with at least a thong - though I have never known an establishment where the girls in fact did. So over the usual chatter and clatter of a cafe you could hear the happy squeals and delighted giggles of the young waitresses as customers' hands caressed their bottoms and reached under their aprons to fondle their sensitive pussies and burgeoning breasts. All that was very charming and pleasant for both parties, but of course there was more. From time to time a customer asked a girl for a "special service". She would look at him startled, as if the idea had never occurred to her; then she would nod shyly and give him a demure smile. As soon as she had finished what she was doing at his table she would make for the swing-doors to the kitchen, but change direction at the last moment to an unmarked door at one side. As she disappeared she would glance discreetly at the customer over her shoulder. Trying to look as if he was doing nothing unusual, he would stand up and follow her. In an establishment of the kind promoted by Mr Izumi and his associates the unmarked door opened onto a corridor with a number of cubicles leading off it, each equipped with a bed and a little washroom. As the customer entered he would notice that a few of the doors were closed, and as he followed his chosen girl he could hear through them coy little screams, and discreet cries of "Yes, yes! Oh, _yes_ ...". She is waiting obediently in the corridor, and ushers him respectfully into a vacant cubicle. She stands close to him, and their lips meet. She kisses him shyly at first, then with growing passion as he takes the lead in entering her mouth with his tongue. At last they separate and she turns her back to give him the pleasure of pulling apart the bows round her waist and behind her neck. As the frilly apron falls away, leaving her innocently naked except for her low heels, she catches it up, ties the upper ribbons together, and hangs it neatly on the hook behind the door. Then she is in his arms leaning back against him, smiling shyly, his touch making her young body shiver deliciously in its new-minted sensuality. "I am not experienced ..." she murmurs, stumbling a little over the rehearsed words: "please teach me how to please you ..." She twists round as he kisses her again, his right hand pressing her against his crotch while his left caresses her breast, enjoying the feel of the hard nipple against his palm. Then he picks her up and carries her to the little bed. Soon she too is entreating him "Yes, yes! Oh, _yes_ ...". Perhaps ten minutes later she is on her feet again, helping him dress. "That was _so_ lovely ... you were _so_ good to me ..." she says shyly as he leaves her, returning to his table in the cafe. Quickly she washes and adjusts her simple make up, then tidies her hair into its girlish ponytail. How good it felt, she thinks, looking at her nakedness as best she can in the washroom mirror, being stroked and petted by a man - even better than her nightly masturbation sessions! At last she takes up the apron again, tying the neat bow snug round her waist, then the other ribbons as insecurely as she dares round her neck. Experimentally she runs her hands under the loose-fitting upper part and strokes her firm, freshly grown breasts. Oh, how nice they feel! And wouldn't it be lovely not to have to wear anything at all! She recalls the lovely shivery feeling when she stood naked before her customer, ready for him to do anything he wanted. She so longs to have that feeling again, stronger, never stopping. How soon before ... She has heard of places where girls are permitted to be naked, all the time, and pleasure their admirers just as they like ... just as she yearns to do. They say a girl has to be sixteen before she can be accepted at such an establishment even on an unpaid basis but surely - she looks sixteen, or so her lovers tell her, and she feels ready ... _so_ ready ... she just _can't_ wait any longer ... She straightens the bed and tidies the little washroom for the next pair of lovers. She leaves the door open and walks down the corridor to a side entrance into the kitchen with a dreamy look in her eyes. The other girls smile at her, they too have often welcomed customers to the private cubicles. They _know_. She too now has planted for ever in her mind a precious glimpse of a paradise which she longs to revisit. She picks up an order standing ready and then is back in the restaurant, delivering it to the correct table. Yes, sir, thank you sir, of course sir ... she can feel his eyes caressing her breasts and his fingertips stroking her bottom. Yes, she thinks, she will pluck up her courage and venture into one of the discreet clubs, one she knows and has been dreaming about ever since an older friend pointed it out to her and whispered to her the wonderful secret of the things that girls do there. Tomorrow. Maybe after school tomorrow she will already be shyly offering herself to a room full of men who really understand what a girl wants. Oh, yes, sir! Please teach me ... Forgive me for indulging my happy memories. She was so sweet, and keen to learn! They all were. Yes, I was a regular at these harmless and agreeable establishments where customers had the pleasure and privilege of helping girls to discover the beauty of their own sexuality. I am glad to say that the _Hadaka Epuron_ cafes continued in business successfully and without official interference until they went out of fashion on their own accord. As for Mr Izumi, he got out before the end, which was probably as well since the law enforcement authorities had begun to suspect that he had acquired both his working capital and his business associates in enterprises noted more for full-body tattoos and missing pinkies than for gently educating pubescent girls in the techniques of innocent flirtation and introducing them to the delights of public sex and nudity. He had already decided on his next venture. On a trip to the United States he had experienced the pleasures of toplessness in restaurants and bars in Las Vegas - nothing new there, of course, but Mr Izumi at once saw its possibilities for Japan. He lost no time in making a start by adapting one of his former apron establishments to the new style, choosing one in the Otemachi business area of Tokyo so that it could attract workers taking a break from long hours in company offices. He staffed it with slightly older and more sophisticated girls, appropriate to the clientele he hoped to attract - mostly girls who had worked in his apron cafes and, having since left school, were keen to turn their youthful dreams into reality and take their first steps into the full-time sex business. Japanese companies love uniforms and he spent some money on a professional designer, who dressed his waitresses in tight bikini panties in a choice of pastel colours, cut high at the back to reveal a tasty glimpse of the lower bottom, each teasingly enhanced by a broad gold or silver belt snug round the hips and matching skin-tight knee-length high-heeled boots. The effect was charming. Soon the firm breasts, wriggling hips, enticing thighs and glittering gold or silver boots of the Chez Maria girls were celebrated. The office-workers came in large numbers, and the success of the establishment meant that there were many more applications from girls eager to work there than Mr Izumi could handle. Promising ones were interviewed by his associates - that being of course one of the privileges that came with investment in the business - and the most gifted given employment in hostess clubs or offered screen-tests in sex-video studios. Mr Izumi began to think big, and successfully sold his ideas to investors with an urgent need to recycle wads of cash away from the prying eyes of Japanese law enforcement and tax authorities. Clearly there was room for a chain of Chez Maria cafes throughout Tokyo and other major cities. Then, once established, the brand and the pretty uniform could be spread into other service businesses such as hairdressing. In his wilder whisky-fuelled moments Mr Izumi even dreamt of licensing the Chez Maria brand and uniform to industries whose competitiveness was already heavily dependent on the charms of pretty female staff: motor-racing, corporate hospitality, even airlines ... there seemed no reason why the standard Chez Maria topless look should not spread rapidly throughout the country, to the profit of Mr Izumi and his associates and to the pleasure of everybody else. It was too much to hope for. The Japanese authorities were out to get him, and used all their skill in harassment and obstruction. He could not be arrested for employing underage girls: he was careful to keep honest and transparent records. But it soon became known, or at least rumoured, that the belts on the girls' smart uniforms easily came undone and that the cubicles where youthful _hadaka epuron_ girls had once been granted their first taste of paradise were now resounding to the ecstasies of their slightly elder sisters. Mr Izumi had been in business long enough to have built up the sort of connections that were useful in predicting when a raid was due, and frustrated squads of policemen always found on their arrival at the Otemachi cafe that the girls' uniforms were firmly glued to their pretty bottoms and that suspicious locked doors concealed only cases of coffee, milk powder and plastic cups - all hygienically stored and within their sell-by dates. But Japanese officialdom has other ways of making life difficult and an order was issued stating that toplessness was "inappropriate" in a cafe and requiring the waitresses to cover their breasts. Japan is not cursed with many lawyers and is not a litigious society, Japanese people preferring to settle their differences with authority on the basis of compromise and consensus. But this restriction on freedom of expression and harmless sexual titillation was something new. Several civil rights lawyers and activists offered to defend Mr Izumi and Chez Maria on a point of principle. However he preferred to be patient: he knew what he wanted to do next but was in no hurry. The authorities were welcome to think they had won and move on to other matters. This was brave of him: of course the new tops exposed as much of the waitresses' upper curves as he thought he and they could get away with, but customers stopped coming and so did the pretty girls who had once begged to be allowed the pleasure of working for him. The declared profits of Chez Maria declined, which dangerously displeased his investors who were accustomed to swift violent action rather than subtlety when their interests were threatened. After a few months he made his move. The new instruction had required his girls to cover their breasts, but had not specified what they should cover them with - and there is such a thing as body-paint. So one by one the waitresses discarded their new bikini tops and their enticing breasts were instead painted at the start of each shift, first in an approximate copy of what they had once worn and then, little by little, in more teasing designs. No one seemed to object, so Mr Izumi moved on to the next stage of his plan. If paint was acceptable as a way of preserving decorum above the girls' waists, then there could surely be no objection to painting their bottoms and pussies too. An artist was employed - and even I believe paid! - to paint each girl at the start of her shift, and check for any damage to his skilled work each time she returned from one of the private cubicles; the customers came flooding back; and eager young girls again stood in line outside Mr Izumi's office imploring him and his investors to let them demonstrate their talents. So when Haruka and I entered Chez Maria that morning the beautiful girl who greeted us at the door with a welcoming cry of "_Iraisshaimase_!" was wearing nothing but golden high-heeled sandals. She conducted us to a little empty table in the crowded room, her pretty bottom swaying and the spray of cherry-blossom which emerged from between her legs and grew along the crack in her arse before twisting round her waist seeming to float in the breeze as she walked. When she turned to face us at the table I saw that her breasts too were painted with blossom, her nipples forming the centres of two pink flowers with petals just big enough to decorate the aureoles and joined by a tiny undulating branch which wandered artistically downwards and appeared to be growing from her navel. My glance was of course drawn further downwards and I could see how prettily the spray which I had observed twining round her bottom and waist seemed to be rooted in the sweet cleft peeping from between her legs. She and all her colleagues, I noticed, were either shaved or, like Haruka, young enough to be naturally hairless - as indeed they had to be since body-paint cannot easily cover pubic hair. She smiled encouragingly at us both and I ordered coffee without bothering to look at the menu which stood on the little round table; Haruka managed to tear her fascinated gaze away from the beautiful girl long enough to examine it carefully and make decisions involving a sickly chocolate drink and cream-cake. The girl bowed with a polite smile and walked elegantly via the kitchen back to her duty position near the entrance. "She's _beautiful_!" said Haruka in a loud whisper. "Yes," I replied. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Very. They all are." Our order was brought to our table by a different girl, her nakedness decorated not with artistically painted leaves and blossom but with an abstract pattern of blue glitter-paint sprayed over her breasts and hips. Her erect nipples and her hairless cleft were painted over but their graceful modelling was clearly visible. Haruka gazed at her in awe as she leant forward with our order, and could not resist putting out her hand as if to touch the waitress's bottom. "Please don't smudge my paint!" she said with a friendly smile. "I've only just come on duty and it's still a bit wet." "Doesn't it rub off when it's dry?" asked Haruka, obviously keen to learn everything there was to know about this new provocative style. "Oh, no! We tried out various brands of spray paint and found that this one doesn't come off easily. Even when my customers ... you know ..." "Oh, you are so lucky to be employed here!" said Haruka. "Well, yes. This is a good place to work. It's fun!" "Could I work here?" asked Haruka, sounding almost desperately serious. The waitress looked at her kindly, then glanced for a moment towards me. She put my coffee down carefully in front of me and placed the slip of paper with the check neatly beside it. "Lots of girls who come here ask us that," she said at last, choosing her words carefully. "And of course ... but the management will only take girls who are at least eighteen. The law ... if we are to be left in peace to be the way we like to be -" she made an elegant gesture down her body with the hand not holding her tray, as if drawing attention to her lovely nakedness "- and the way our customers like us to be, we have to be careful." She turned to me again. "And this young lady ... Perhaps one day ..." I nodded. Haruka had her long hair pulled back into a ponytail and had chosen this morning to wear only a cropped white tee-shirt bearing in deep pink the slogan "Happy puberty [18]!", through which the outlines of her eternal nipple-clamps could be clearly seen, and close-fitting denim shorts. Nothing underneath, of course. The tight contact of the rough cloth with her unprotected and sensitive bottom must have prickled and stung unbearably but she claimed the afterglow of one session and the constant reminder of how much she was longing for the next was part of the pleasure of being whipped. She looked as always ready for anything, but the one thing she did not look was over eighteen. The waitress, having made her point, left to serve other customers. Looking longingly at her, and then glancing round the room, I could see that Mr Izumi's latest idea was to have two styles of uniform for his staff: detailed flower paintings for the senior girls managing the establishment and spray-on glitter paint for the junior waitresses. It was impossible to tell which style was more responsible for the erection which was troubling me. Haruka was silent for the moment but was watching me as she ate her cake. "You fancy these girls?" she asked at last, wiping cream from her lips with a paper napkin. "Of course," I said, trying to push to the back of my mind the thought of what those lips were going to feel like when they closed round my cock. "Would you fancy _me_ if I were a nude waitress like they are? Wearing just a few splashes of paint like that?" "You know I would. But you heard what the girl said. It's not possible. It would get the place into serious trouble." "But you _do_ like the idea of me nude in public wearing only body-paint?" she went on. I was going to have to deal with my erection very soon. I thought about suggesting that we abandoned the idea of visiting Asakusa that day and went straight home so that I could fuck her very thoroughly. Or perhaps I could take her up some deserted side-street and make her lean against the wall while I took her from behind like a casual whore. She would enjoy that. Fortunately she did not wait for an answer to her question. She knew the answer anyway. "Have these girls given you an erection or is it me?" she asked instead. "I'm glad you want to see me nude in public wearing only body-paint," she went on, carefully repeating her earlier phrase, and then saying it a third time caressingly as if the very words were stroking her insatiable sensuality, "Nude in _public_. Ooh, _nude_ in public. Not just nude on stage or at a club, but _in public. With just a little body-paint. Could you paint me?" I struggled to say something like "I suppose I could learn," but she went straight on. "I'm so glad we came here today," she said. "It's given me a wonderful idea. I don't mind about not working as a waitress. My idea is even better. Could you paint a dress on me? Or a top and shorts like these I'm wearing?" "Shorts would be better," I managed to say, finding it possible to get my lust under control by applying my mind to practical problems. "You see, the skirt would look real if you stood still and posed in it - at a party, say - but as soon as you started walking everyone could see there was really nothing there. But little shorts ... they wouldn't be so different from the kind of thing you're wearing now. It looks as if it's sprayed on anyway." "Ooh, you are clever!" she said. "You're right, of course. So that's what I want to do. I want to go out wearing only my heels and with a little top and little shorts painted over my breasts and bottom! Could I do that? It would be such a thrill!" "I guess you could," I said, meaning "I don't suppose I could stop you." Or want to stop you if it comes to that, I added privately. "Would anyone realise that I wasn't really wearing anything?" "What do you think would happen if they did?" She gasped, and looked at me with her lips apart and her eyes wide open. She had clearly not thought about that - her imagination had gone no further than the thrill of teasing people. Like many young girls she enjoyed the power over a man which her sexuality gave her, but did not always appreciate the strength of the feelings she released in him and how easily they could propel a man into action. She looked away and clasped her hands beneath her chin. Her eyes were focussed on the far distance now and her face was transfigured with a look of unearthly joy. She reminded me suddenly of one of those paintings by Western Renaissance masters showing a female saint contemplating the prospect of ecstatic martyrdom and assumption into heavenly bliss. [19] "Oh yes ... oh _yes_!" she murmured. I gave her a little time to enjoy her dream of multiple public gang-rape. "I think," I said when she at last returned to immediate reality, "another of your little demons has escaped from his prison and is telling you what you are to do to satisfy him in future." She lowered her eyes and giggled. "You know, you are an extraordinary girl," I went on. "You mean, because I enjoy sex so much? But don't all girls?" "Well, nearly all. There are some poor girls who never really learn to enjoy it. But they're not the sort of girls I know. What is remarkable about you is that you want it on such a vast scale and in so many ways. Like the public nudity and mass rape you were just dreaming of." "How did you know I ... well, anyway, those little demons we were talking about keep pushing me to do things like that. Like the first time I got up on stage and stripped, and then I never wanted to stop doing that. And being nude for the kind gentlemen in my clubs. But there's always something even more thrilling to do. Like when my friends take me on to private parties after the club closes and teach me lovely new ways of being whipped and fucked ..." She hadn't mentioned that before. But it was only natural that she should receive such invitations and eagerly accept them. I had noticed that she sometimes came home later than expected, and slipped into bed still quivering with remembered orgasm. Why shouldn't she? She was an independent sexual being with every right to explore her sensuality to its limits - if it had any, which I was beginning to doubt. "So now you want to perform and show off on an even bigger stage." She just nodded, her eyes sparkling. "_Roshutsu_," I said simply. "What?" "_Roshutsu_. Going out in public nude. It's a recognised branch of the pornography industry. Pretty girls photographed or videoed walking down crowded streets nude." "Ooh! Not even wearing body-paint?" "Well, sometimes. But straightforward nudity is more common. Some porn addicts like watching it. I certainly do." "And I bet the girls love doing it!" "They always look as if they do! Of course there are standard shots and scenes [20]. Perhaps you - we - could think of something more original." She thought for a while. "Isn't it time we went on to Asakusa?" she asked suddenly. "We have to collect my present, and I want to look at more dresses in that nice shop." "I didn't think you needed any more dresses, now that you are planning to be nude all the time." She giggled, then suddenly looked serious. "But I need pretty things to take off. You do see that, don't you?" We made our way through the crowded cafe and I stopped at the desk by the entrance to pay the check. The elegant girl who had greeted us was still there, her sprays of cherry-blossom still impeccably in place. Surely she had been invited to join an admirer in one of the discreet cubicles? I did hope so: it would have been a waste of all that beauty if she had not been. But if she had been, was the paint as the other girl had said secure enough not to be disturbed by love-making? Or had she retired to the staff-room afterwards so that the artist could touch up his masterpiece? She bowed as she gave me my change on a little plastic tray and hoped I would come again. It was pleasant to be able to enjoy looking at a waitress's breasts without having to peer down the front of a blouse. "What is your name?" I asked suddenly. "I am Sakurako," she replied. Cherry-blossom child. "How very pretty, and appropriate," I said, sketching a gesture towards the painted blossom. She blushed charmingly, the pink flush flowing from her face down over her breasts and making the petals almost invisible. "Perhaps we might meet again, one evening when you are off duty?" "Perhaps ..." she replied. Haruka gripped my arm and encouraged me out into the street. For a moment she looked as if she wanted to rebuke me for my neglect of her, but then thought better of it. "You see," she said, skipping along beside me on her platform shoes, "if I am to get all the sex I want ... and that means lots and _lots_ of sex ... I need lots and _lots_ of men with erections. Of course there are vibrators, and things like your wonderful fucking-machine, and they are beautiful and I love using them, but there is nothing like being fucked by a man with a really big erection." "Uh-huh." "And if men are to have erections they have to want me, and the way to make them want me is to wear really sexy clothes and let them watch while I take them off. You do see that, don't you?" "Yes." "Good. There was a moment just now when I wondered if you did." I stopped. People behind us avoided bumping into us, apologised and swept on ahead of us. "_I_ have a really big erection," I declared. "I hope it's for me and not for that girl." "Well, she was the one who was nude. In public," I said unfairly. "You were only talking about it. But I'll make sure you get the full benefit of it. Why don't we forget about Asakusa for today, and go straight home so I can spend the rest of the day fucking you? And whipping you ..." She giggled. For a moment I thought she would agree. "But I do so want to collect my present," she said. "The steel collar with the chains and the lovely nipple-clamps and things. I've been dreaming about it for days. You want to see me in that, don't you? And then fuck me and whip me while I'm wearing it?" I had to admit that I did. "I'll make sure you still have an erection when we get home," she said consolingly. "_And_ I'll be nude for you - in public." "Is that a promise?" "It's a promise." FOOTNOTES [18] I am sure the weird Japlish which appears on Japanese fashion products is the result of unrestrained use of the dictionary. Someone must have looked up _wakamono_ or _jakunen_ and finding among its translations the word "puberty" had decided it sounded more elegant and exotic than simply "youth". - B W [19] Of course no one who knows anything about female sexuality doubts that such paintings and sculptures really depict girls on the brink of overwhelming masochistic orgasm, produced by artists who knew very well what girls look like at such moments. - B W [20] I used to wonder why amateur _roshutsu_ girls are obsessed with being photographed nude in front of the drink vending machines which stand on Japanese streets. Then I understood. A girl meets a group of friends - or makes new ones, it doesn't matter. After some inconsequential discussion she joins three or four guys in a big car or van. Inside, her clothes are removed despite her not very sincere protests, and she sucks and fucks as the group drive slowly through the streets, a guy who is temporarily satis?ed taking a turn at the wheel. After a couple of hours of this she complains that she is thirsty. She certainly is, her throat clogged with cum; and she probably needs a sugar hit to help her through the rest of the evening - after all, she has been working three or four times as hard as they have. The vehicle stops in front of a bank of soft-drink vending machines, the guys give her a couple of Y100 coins and invite her to go and buy what she wants. "Like this?" she asks in mock modesty; then jumps giggling out of the car and runs nude across the street. Of course they photograph her, and so perhaps do passers-by on their phones. And that is where the charming unposed shots of sweet amateurs nude in the street come from, which we all enjoy when they turn up on the internet. - B W [Next in Part 12: Chapter XII: Haruka Discovers Roshutsu] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams Comments welcome at bobwilliams1@tiscali.co.uk