Preface
I met Fiona a few years ago when she was still an airline hostess. I like or dislike people on sight and I liked Fiona straight away. She's a completely natural person, and I don't mean just sexually, but natural in every way. What she thinks, she says. What she feels, she expresses. What she believes in, she acts upon. There isn't any affectation about her. Now this makes it a lot easier for a guy to get to know a girl, and we soon became great friends, but I must stress, not lovers. "I don't imagine you," she said, "I may one day, but not yet." Every now and then my telephone would ring. "Hi," a voice would say. "Is that you Adam? This is Fiona. I'm back home in London for two nights. What about an evening out?" she would ask. We would dine anywhere usually inexpensively as long as it was gay and full of young people.
Fiona always seemed to be happy. The smallest things delighted and amused her-a walk late at night, a dress in a shop window she knew she couldn't afford. Life to her was an adventure, a party which was to be enjoyed, and she believed in living every second of the day and night. Sometimes when we were dancing, and her wonderful breasts were nestling against my chest I would hold her a little tighter and ask, "Has my time come yet?" and she would reply, "Not yet, but don't give up hope. I may do something silly with you one day yet!"
Of course, I was half in love with her, but not jealous of her lifestyle. She made it sound so natural and funny. She would say, "You know Adam darling I had a perfectly gorgeous man on the way out. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him-so dark, greying a little at the temples and with a fabulous body." One of the reasons for her frankness was she had discovered a secret very few women know about, that men are twice as jealous of what they don't know but suspect, than they are of what they actually know. A girl who will lie and hide things away could drive a man mad. However, if you're told by a girl outright, "I had a gorgeous fuck last week" you can take it or leave it. If it's a girl like Fiona you'll probably take it-at least I know that I did!
I've not described Fiona's looks. Her skin is flawless and very brown in the summer. Her breasts are firm and stick straight out like spears. She has the tiniest waist that I have ever seen, and her legs seem to go on forever. Her silken arms are like wands of pure gold. From behind her buttocks look as sexy as two misplaced breasts. This is all terrific, but her face is best of all. Apart from being beautiful its chief charm rests in its contradictions. Her mouth on the one hand is intensely mobile. You can tell every mood by the way she smiles, bites her lip or tongue or catches her lower lip between her teeth. Sometimes she smiles with her whole mouth, sometimes with part of it. At other times it is drawn out sideways saying quite clearly, "Don't come any of that crap on me." I found this mobility irresistible, but what adds to it on the other hand are her beautiful blue eyes which shine beneath heavy lids which are hardly ever raised. And so you have two faces, the top half mysterious, the eyes hidden beneath heavy sleepy lids, and the bottom half alive and mobile, the mouth working overtime to show her moods and enthusiasms. The only way to raise her eyelids is to shock her-not an easy task! Then the lids rise, and two huge eyes stare at you in amazement.
The nicest thing about Fiona is her niceness. This is a much abused word usually used euphemistically to mean dullness or mediocrity. Yet, there is no other word to describe Fiona. She is attractive, adorable, sexually exciting, but undeniably nice as well. She loves her parents. She often told me how they had sacrificed themselves to educate their children. She loves her brother and sister. She has lots of friends, and they told me how she is unselfish to work with. The simple fact is that (although Fiona will kill me when she reads this) she's a real good sort, and when this is combined with a one thousand horse powered sex drive the result is devastating. Just about everybody who sees very much of her falls in love with her.
After two years of casual friendship our relationship changed in a drastic way. It came about like this. I was working for a public relations firm and for one year had been engaged on a project which I thought was really going to make me. I had given it everything, sitting up late at night working and not going out even on Sundays, and I hardly drank in order to get the thing right. At last everything was ready. My big day arrived. I made my presentation to the directors aided by graphs and illustrations. For 50 minutes I explained it all in great detail and sat down to wait for questions. "Is that all?" the boss asked, and with that he and the other directors left the room. Not one word of praise or encouragement! Not even a glimmer of interest! I felt a dismal failure! In that instant it seemed as though the whole 12 months had been totally wasted. I was damned if I was going to take such treatment!
I walked straight out of the office and back to my apartment. I found myself quite alone for my roommate was away. I decided there was only one thing to do, and that was to go out and get drunk. Then I looked at my watch. It was 4:00 o'clock. The pubs were still closed. I had nothing to do for two hours. I cursed everybody. At that moment the telephone rang. "Hi," a voice said. "Is that you Adam? This is Fiona. There's been a change of schedule, and I'm not flying again until Monday. Any chance of seeing you?" she asked. "Good God!" I said. "I'm yours till Monday and all the week if you're free!" I added enthusiastically. "Pick me up at 8:00," she said. Thank God, I thought, for Fiona! At 8:00 o'clock I went round to her apartment in Chelsea. I was still in a foul mood, and the fact that I had been to my local and had had two large whiskys hadn't helped at all. In fact, the opposite was true. For in addition to being angry I had also begun to feel ill, doubtful and sorry for myself.
I rang the front doorbell, and Fiona was down in a flash. One of her finest qualities is her punctuality. I had decided that we were going to eat at the most expensive restaurant I could find. After all, what was the point of not ruining myself completely? I had walked out of my job so why not spend all of my money as well? The head waiter looked a little doubtfully at me and somewhat reluctantly showed us to a table at the far end of the room. The prices nearly took my breath away. I ordered caviar with vodka and Beef Stroganoff and a bottle of Chateau Latour. Fiona gaped and asked me if I had come into a fortune. I looked at her and suddenly felt desperately sad and told her everything. She never said a word while I was talking, but her hand came out from under the table and held mine. "The swine!" she exclaimed when I had finished. "Did you give them notice or walk out?" she inquired. I explained that I had left without saying a word to anybody. "What are you going to do now?" she wanted to know. I answered that I had no idea, but added that doubtless something would turn up. "I see," she said and changed the subject entirely by saying that all her life she had wanted to eat at the Mirabelle and how very clever of me it was to have guessed her secret! Then she went on to relate an extraordinary story of a house of depravity she had visited in Bangkok called the House of Lotus Blossom. Thanks to laughing at that and the vodka and the Chateau Latour my spirits returned to normal ... until the bill came! When that was settled and we were in the street I was about to suggest that we go to a very expensive nightclub when Fiona put her arm through mine and said, "Adam darling, I don't want to be a spoil sport, but could we wait a bit and go and have a drink at your apartment. I hate being the first at a nightclub." I replied, "Of course. I have half a bottle of brandy, and we can go on after we've finished that." She held my arm tightly, and we walked around to my place.
Fiona said that she was going to repair her makeup and retired to the bathroom. I poured out two glasses of brandy and thought how ill treated I had been. Suddenly I heard her call my name softly, but quite urgently. Without thinking I followed her voice into, not the bathroom, but the bedroom. She was lying stark naked on my bed. I had never seen her like that, and my mouth fell open. Her body was the most beautiful golden color, and her breasts jutted out like two warm Mont Blanc. Then her figure tapered to the smallest, slimmest waist that I had ever seen-an unbelievable 50 centimetres (21 inches)-I know because I measured it later! At the centre of all this magnificence was a large golden bush, and my eyes fixed on this. After all, it was where I had wanted to be for a very long time. Fiona burst out laughing. She wondered if I thought she was some kind of freak because I was staring so. I threw off my clothes noticing that Fiona's were in a tidy pile on a chair. I was to note later that however passionate she might be Fiona always remained tidy. Then I laid down beside her; I took her in my arms, kissed her and made love to her. She whispered softly that I was wonderful, and I simply burst into tears; it wasn't a habit of mine, but suddenly I felt that everything was just too much to bear. My job was gone, my dreams looked pretty silly, and here was Fiona being sweet and wonderful. She took my head in her arms and gently kissed me and said, "Let's talk it over." We talked, and I told her everything again. She asked if I were certain that I had done the right thing by walking out, and I replied that no, I wasn't certain. Then she said, "Why not just walk right back the first thing tomorrow morning and ask to see the boss? Talk it over with him and ask him to reconsider the position. Otherwise you won't be able to see any future for yourself." I was secretly relieved and agreed, and then I felt much better. I looked at her as a woman, not as a mother, and I took her again and again. In the morning when I awoke at 6:00 o'clock I took her again, and later in the day when I came home from work, the boss having said that he must have been out of sorts and that I shouldn't be so bloody touchy in the future.
For nearly two years we saw each other whenever she was in England. She is the best lover I have ever had, and no other girl holds a candle to her in bed for sexiness or out of it for companionship and fun. However, as I have been asked to describe Fiona I will be analytical and not romantic. As I wrote earlier she has a fabulous body, but so do an awful lot of girls, and it's not that which makes her so fantastic. Her secret is sexual sensibility, and ability to know exactly what's in a man's mind and carry out his sexual fantasies and wishes without him having to say a word. I have never encountered this ability to mind read sexually in anybody else. An absolute naturalness in bed is added to this. Nothing is sexually indecent to Fiona. She will kiss your cock as a perfectly natural gesture. If she feels like making love she will start very slowly moving against you with her body exploring your body very gently with her fingers. Then her mouth goes into action, and she will kiss your tits, go down on you and then take your face between her hands and kiss you full on the mouth. And her tongue, which is as long as any tapir's, could awaken the dead! She has another characteristic I have never otherwise experienced. She smiles when she makes love like a child watching Laurel and Hardy, a smile full of complete relaxation and enjoyment, and when she comes she laughs in pure delighted happiness. Once I asked her why. She looked puzzled and said, "But doesn't everyone laugh when they're happy?" When Men Only magazine was the subject of a court case, a lot of things were said about Fiona being abandoned and a wanton; she is not like that to me. She belongs to a new generation of natural lovers who believe that if you have a beautiful face and a beautiful body you should use them. She is no bitch. She doesn't go after married men or other girls' men. She simply-likes sex and men and enjoys them. When I was seeing her whenever we could meet I was often asked if I were jealous. I said that I was not, and that was true. Fiona's honesty made jealousy impossible. She never hid anything. She could say, "I met the most marvelous man in Singapore. I couldn't believe it. He balled me for hours without stopping." If I looked hurt she would say, "But Adam darling you weren't in Singapore." As I said before, honesty kills jealousy, and jealousy thrives on deceit. If a man is told the truth uncertainty is removed, and he knows exactly where he stands and can decide to accept the situation or go; if things are hidden and concealed without a doubt he feels that they are worse. Uncertainty adds to suspicion, and hatred and jealousy are just a state of mind which destroy love. I had to accept the fact with Fiona that separated half the time from one of the sexiest and prettiest girls in the world I could never have her to myself alone. I decided to make the best of it; I dismissed the thought of total possession from my mind as much as I could and had the happiest two years of my life. I am certain that if Fiona ever marries she will make a wonderful wife and mother, for whatever she does she does wholeheartedly and well.
Well, that's just about all I have to say about Fiona except that she has caused me one great regret-that other girls are not like her in bed, and I can therefore say that she has disillusioned me with womanhood. If you've made love to a girl who can transmit your physical wishes into actions without saying a word, if you have known a girl who can he smiling at you while you fuck her, a girl who knows how, when and where to stimulate you through a perfect understanding of mind reading then you are going to find the ordinary lay unexciting. This is why girls should realize that a lot more is expected of them than lying down and opening their legs. That is one of the reasons why, when the publishers asked me as an old friend and lover to write this preface, I said I would. I'll always be a little in love with Fiona for the two reasons I've given. She's not only the best fuck I've ever had, she's also the best companion and nicest girl I've ever known, if those aren't good reasons for writing an epilogue I don't know what are!