The Gallery of Pleasures

"W-well," I stammered, struggling to keep my thoughts in check, "The opening scene of the album is one of violent passion. A sensuous housekeeper with shaved eyebrows loses herself in the embrace of her young spouse. Her hairpins scatter in disarray as she strains head, neck, and loins to meet the onslaught of her passionate mate, who sucks eagerly at her breast. Kimono and bedding lie likewise scattered in abandon - silken garments, rendered in that typically-Hokusai random pattern - as, at lower left, crumpled tissue paper lends silent testimony to the sexual efforts that have preceded the present tableau."

"Fuck me! You are right, cum soaked hankies!" she said loudly, ignoring how the back of the party turned to see what was going on, though I noticed that they seemed to have paired up or in a few cases become threesomes all closely holding and subtly caressing each other. And as I glanced so I felt Leah's hand caress my arse, as if by accident, but was it really? I surprised myself. I did not object. I did not get embarrassed. I did not move away. And my pussy continued gushing its sweet aromatic juice.

"And in another typically Hokusai device, the scene is lent variety by the semi-comical depiction of a young and plump shop-clerk, seen masturbating in aroused, voyeuristic empathy. As is often the case with shunga, the text adds very little to our understanding of the scene - serving a function rather like the "Whaam!" inscriptions on a Roy Lichtenstein cartoon painting."

"Oh yes, look at her wanking...gorgeous. Imagine if we could do that here and now, reflecting the artist's message to his voyeuristic viewer. Fuck, how I would like to lift my skirt and diddle my clit, it's just so aroused by this...and by you." Leah said loudly, if breathy. "I don't know why I feel so horny. I know you saw my tits poking out like organ stops. Well, you couldn't stop looking, could you? And I must admit, I loved it."

I stayed silent, hearing the faint hiss overhead and smelling that fragrance so like my own cunt's bouquet. I was finding myself struggling even more to keep my own wild, sexual thoughts to myself. They grew crazier by the moment. Her hand was firmly on my arse now, kneading my right buttock and making no attempt to be discreet. I mirrored her, placing my arm tentatively around her back, stroking her through the sensual feel of her silken blouse. I already knew there was nothing between her bare skin and my hand than that top, so delicately thin that I might as well have been touching her naked flesh. Could I be brave enough to also trace my hand over her bum?

We walked forward along the line of prints as the young women proceeded up the gallery, all in intimate embraces with each other, some with their heads close, moments from kissing.

"In the second design, Hokusai even goes a step further in terms of complexity and nonconformity. A pair of lovers fucking in a corridor, the male penetrating from behind, as his sweetheart bends forward, while touching the ground with her hands. They both are servants from various households and feverishly debate on the possibility of running off together. Finishing off this trilateral design, a pair of mongrel dogs haphazardly mimic the lover's pose (just as, in reverse, the couple themselves unknowingly imitate "doggy-style"). The scene's complexity is even more enhanced by the addition of another fucking couple that can be seen through the grilled window at the right. These lovers are shagging in the more conventional "missionary" pose."

My words were becoming noticeably coarser. Whereas in many a gallery tour I'd explained to visitors an erotic scene with couple or couples 'copulating', 'making love' or 'in congress', it didn't feel right here. They were fucking, shagging or whatever. I told it as it really is. Leah's hand was now exploring my left buttock and tracing the crack between, pressing the cloth of my skirt into my butt. There was no one behind us now. I was beginning to hate that skirt, and hers too. I wanted her to feel my flesh, to knead it directly, to run her fingers over my arsehole and under to my dripping cunt. But for all that my imagination wanted, I struggled to remain as controlled as possible, even if my language betrayed me and, I was sure, my pungent scent that competed with the one descending from above.

I heard the words in my head. "Submit. Expose. Fuck." Over and over it whispered from somewhere deep in my unconscious. Yet consciously I continued with my 'gallery guide' talk...

"At first sight, this plate might seem a bit too unsophisticated, but Hokusai is an unsophisticated artist: his enjoyment is in the eccentricities, the deficiencies, the blemish of humans. He took a special delight in the obscene as emphasised in the added text, which is from the artist's own hand, and contains some of the most graphic reflections -including the sounds of fucking - ever released. Simultaneously, after one has closely examined the image and the erotic aspects lose their domination, one can start to enjoy the distinguished human nature of the protagonists. Ironically enough, this human aspect begins with the non-humans as is revealed in the conversation between the two mongrels: White mongrel: "Brownie, Brownie, get your arse moving! These humans are so hot at it - makes me feel really horny!" Brown bitch: "To Hell with the humans! - keep your mind on the business at hand!"

As if on cue, Leah's hand had ruched up my skirt and was now tracing its way under it and caressing my bare arse. It was a moment to be pleased that, though I had no confidence to dress sexily, I did keep my body in particularly good shape. I had a firm shapely arse from using my studio gym. Each day I punished my body, though until this point no other person had seen it or felt it in its fit form, well at least where she was feeling. I suddenly wanted Leah to do both. What was going on? At one level I was embarrassed, at another it was all I desired.

"Submit. Expose. Fuck." The words were back. Louder in my head. They needed to be obeyed...

"You have a beautiful arse Gina. How I'd love to run my tongue all over it and between those firm cheeks."

"Why thank you," I replied rather weedily. Fuck! I wanted her. I'd never been with a woman, but I knew I wanted her to do those things to me. I realised I had no way of knowing how. Though the illustrations were giving me strong ideas. Yet all I could utter was that absolutely pathetic 'thanks'. So I struggled on, just glimpsing out of the corner of my eye some of the young women kissing each other. Some with a good deal of passion, others more shy sneaking little pecks. What was happening? The scent in the room, which was most definitely of aroused woman, was stronger. The hiss of the overhead air ducts louder. The words in my head compelling.

"Submit. Expose. Fuck."

I pressed on with my commentary, which seemed both completely articulate - almost inspired in its clarity - and yet at odds with the growing physical intimacy and desire I felt for my new companion, and those whispered words. One part of my brain just wanted to fuck and be fucked, the other was focused like a lecturer.

"In this third scene Hokusai removes any backdrop ingredients and focuses only on the protagonists. A wistful young newlywed woman undergoes the introductory acts of her secret lover as she leans on a geisha pillow (takamakura) with her shoulder. The blanket and kimono serve almost as a shell that wraps the lovers in their own world. The dialogue indicates their love was mutual from the beginning, and that they encountered each other recently. This was at the Hira-Sei Restaurant in Fukugawa during a Special Festival at the nearby Eitaiji Temple. This happening was held on the Fifth day of the Third Month of Bunsei V (1822). Just about seven months before the date of the preface to this album."

I braved putting my hands on her arse and felt her firm flesh, albeit bonier than me. She gave a slight moan, then pressed back against my hand willing me to touch her more firmly. I caught a glimpse of Leah's index finger go deep into her mouth, so sexily as she licked and sucked on it then removed it.

"The fourth scene portrays two young lovers during their initial fucking. The young woman is a virgin who hides her face timidly as her inexperienced lover wets his fingers for easier access. Look at the size of his cock, so intimidating to the maiden. Imagine that splitting her cunt asunder!"

It was at that point Leah's finger entered my anus, just gently, at its puckered opening. No one had ever been there before, but I welcomed it with a grunt and a slight bearing down. Now I knew why she had licked and wet her finger. I said nothing, only that sound and a long moan that followed as discomfort became pleasure, just as I imagined being fucked for the first time would be like. Yes, I was still a virgin.

"Let's go to this one," I said, noting again that the academy party was, like us, getting increasingly sexual in their behaviour. "Here a mature woman subjects a young rebellious adolescent, who is half her age, to her unrestrained passions. From the dialogue we can deduce that she is his former wet nurse, which explains why she now finds him so adorable. The fragile youngster is almost squeezed by the enormous volume of the overpowering woman. The impressive amount of tissue papers at lower left indicates the lady's insatiable lust, the young lad must endure. This remarkable image reveals, indeed, the ambivalent powers, both formidable and terrible, of human sexuality."

I was dripping juice down my inner thighs. Leah's fingers had delighted my anus but now cupped under to tease at my sex. In turn I'd given up any pretence. My hand was under the back of her skirt, mimicking what she had done to me. Her tight skirt was no more than a belt now, and neither she nor I cared that the group in front might see her perfectly shaven cunt (as I was to learn later). From her reactions I knew she liked it. So did I, particularly when my finger slid so easily into her rectum that daringly I pressed to get two in that forbidden place as we moved on.

"Submit. Expose. Fuck."

It was an instruction now. Was it in my head or coming from somewhere? All I knew was I wanted to obey that command, yet still I had this split between what my body wanted and my sense of duty as an artist to share my knowledge. I had this compunction to continue...

"Th-th-the sixth scene takes us to another world, that uncovers a more worldly, and less basic path to the joys of sex. Here, the experienced lover, sitting in an impromptu chair, is seen engaged in proficient cunnilingus, amassing his lover's passionate "body-fluids" - her cum - that is collected in a jar below. This "love-juice" is later mixed with sake as an elixir for improving sexual prowess. These scenes appeared more often in the shunga during this era, but the method seems to be a bit uncommon, when you set it against the usually more straightforward approach to sex. This method probably was derived from serving the kinks of Chinese connoisseurs (collectors), who sometimes preferred the derivatives of sex above the act itself. They believed in the therapeutic power of this "magic fluid", and therefore could exploit it. In Hokusai's shunga book of 1814, Kinoe no komatsu, there is a related scene appearing featuring a Chinese couple so catering for their kinks."

There was no pretence in these young adults, at least at the back close to us. The tall American, Gloria, the one who hated cocks, was lying back moaning loudly as Emma - one of those who had lifted their skirts - lapped at her cunt. Her own pussy faced us and its smooth swollen lips glistened under the lights, clearly absolutely dripping with girl-cum, as was I. What had got into us all?

"Oh fuck, that is hot!" said Leah and with that swung me around to kiss me full on the mouth, her tongue forced between my lips that resisted only momentarily. Her hand sought the clasp on my skirt and in seconds the clothing was around my feet. You know I just did not care; in fact, I hoped the others would see me. I was exposed, with my hairy pussy as unkempt as ever, open and dripping its lady goo. Well for a short while until Leah's fingers drove hard into me, finger fucking me to the first of numerous orgasms as I stood there, my legs shaking until I had to sit down.

It was at that point Leah removed her own skirt, straddled my face and offered up her bare cunt to me. "Eat it, bitch!" she ordered loudly. A shiver of delight went through me. I liked her ordering me, telling me what she wanted. She ground her slippery, shaven sex lips against my mouth, being totally merciless about whether I could breathe or not. At times I could only gain air by ensuring my tongue had fucked her so well she came again. I lost count how many times, but she was that rare (and lucky) woman like me; multi-orgasmic. Although not up to her standard, I had come many times. I was not complaining, believe me.

She pulled me to my feet after about an hour and abruptly instructed, "Let's finish the tour, we have our interviews."

"Yes Mistress," I said, not even thinking to question the balance of power in the relationship or the spontaneous use of that epithet. It felt right, at least for now.

We stepped over groups and pairs of naked and semi-naked women, all getting up from obvious lesbian fucking. Every face glistened with the lady cum of their partners. The air was thick with the smell of sex. Groans and satisfied sighs and moans were the dominant sounds. No one felt a need to dress, carrying their shoes in their hands and clothes over their arms. Beautiful nude and partially draped young women filled the art space, continuing to walk to the next set of pictures whilst kissing each other and stopping frequently for a fondle and sometimes a lick of arses, cunts and breasts.

Their teacher was as naked as them, her slender fingers caressing her sex, and calling them forward as if this was normal to walk a gallery completely or partially, as in our case, nude. I continued my commentary, this time loudly so the whole group could hear me on the encouragement of our stunning Japanese guide.

"In the seventh image we see adult lovers locked in a horny embrace. The man bends over and lifts the woman's hips to meet his lustful demands. Such a position allows, indeed, a maximum freedom of movement on the part of the male; for the female there is probably not all that much difference in effectiveness. In this case, the conversation is even less understandable than in the other scenes - consisting almost entirely of the passionate, incessant gasps of the partners.

Like in the fifth scene, this seventh scene features a teenage boy and a passionate matriarch. She is a merry widow who, during her bursts of ecstasy, vows to adopt her novice shop assistant. The couple is merged in an embrace that almost seems inseparable. The composition is so immaculate, and the "pairing" is so perfectly carried out that the lovers seem quite literally "meant to be together."

The eighth scene was missing, inexplicably. Just a large full-length mirror had been placed there. Looking in it I could see behind me the reflections of so many wonderfully naked young women. Tits so young and firm, some large some tiny, my partner's high and erect, and there in front were my breasts, released from my blouse and looking so heavy and full. For the first time in my life, I liked myself. Yes, I liked my tits and as if to affirm this, Leah bent and kissed each one sucking a nipple into her mouth, then letting the teat spring back sending a frisson of pleasure through me. And sudddenly she kissed my lips, hard, pulled away and said, no ordered, 'carry on.'

"In the ninth scene we witness the unwanted encounter between a maiden and a middle-aged male. She fiercely resists the undesired advances of her grabby assailant. From the conversation we learn that the latter is an acupuncturist, summoned to treat the poor maiden for stomach pains. He's a randy doctor who seems to be losing himself in his arousal, not worrying about the outcome. The image is particularly striking because of the portrayal of the genitalia. In this case, unlike the other designs in the series, the male organ is loaded with indecent appetite (note the dripping cum), and the female organ, physically ready but aversive."

'Typical fucking man!' one of the group stage-whispered next to me, to a round of giggles and nods of agreement. 'All they care about is their dick, even if you're sick!'

Leah laughed at the unintentional verse, then nudged me to carry on.

"The tenth design shows us Hokusai at the peak of his creative power in the last phase of his erotic work. In front of a mosquito netting, a fully naked mature male lifts the rear of his lover up to his knee, kissing her passionately as he engages in skilful fingering. It's called Robust Member. This is because the young woman almost carelessly fondles his robust cock with her foot. According to Richard Lane, a critic and collector, 'The scene appears as though hewn of one piece from a solid block of marble.' Hokusai ensures that the eroticism comes to life in the image from our imagination. The composition is so splendidly impressive with the naked bodies: not so much intertwined, as merged to become one.

A little disquieting is what describes the eleventh design of the album best. It depicts a jealous female who both draws her lover to her and then, biting his lip, accuses him of sharing his devotions in another place. The male is stretching his arms against the floor as she raises her lips to his, in the process, one large hairpin is falling off. This image is the least explicit in the series and probably was a device to lead us, the viewer, into the next, final scene of the set. Come on everyone, let's see what to me is the best."

I ushered them all forward, inviting them to press together in a virtual orgy of naked breasts and pussies - some shaved, some wild and bushy like mine (and the women of the picture) - gathered around the last enlargement of the shunga print. There was lots of kissing, and groping going on, so much that I forced myself not to participate in it so that I could tell them about the final illustration.

"Hokusai saves the most curious tableau for last. This final image shows us a vigorous shapely widow calmly measuring the enduring passionate potential of her three fatigued lovers. Each of the contenders must balance two heavy strings of Chinese coins on their cocks, not only to affirm their sexual skills, but also their rank as male escorts. The piece is known as 'Tormentor'. The men feel intimidated by their "tormentor" and complain: "I've never seen such an insatiable woman. Seven times, and she still wants more; I've had enough...I feel dizzy." To which the fearsome woman mercilessly replies: "You fellows are too young to give up so easily...after I finish a smoke, I'll give each of you two more tries to prove your manhood." Additionally, the relentless woman insistently pokes her long smoking pipe with its red-hot bowl towards the collection of reluctant, though, well-rewarded penises."

I just felt I had to add something for the education of these young women. "We women have more staying power for sex than men. A cock may not perform instantly once the man has cum, whereas we can have orgasm after orgasm. A good reason to have plenty of sex with women, keeping the man for reproduction and occasional variety, if bothered with at all. As seen in some shunga, women use fingers and huge dildos and strap-ons. This woman needs more than one male suitor to satisfy her, whereas a woman can go all night with one or perhaps bring in more of her own sex just for fun."

I watched the young women's faces, looking both curious and aroused by what I said, and glancing at each other. Some were kissing and caressing again, confirming that despite stopping their fucking and licking and sucking they would be ready for more rounds just as I described. Somewhere in my brain I had surprised myself with this insight. The introverted, shy artist in me was expressing with words what I'd only done with art until now. And then I announced...