The Connoisseur

[A separate passage continues the story of this tour from the point at which the orchestra arrived in America. Robert records a number of exploits with different women in different cities. There is much repetition of a predictable nature, both from this tour and others, which may not merit inclusion here. However, there is one episode which seems to have occurred on a subsequent visit to the States, that Robert clearly recalled later in great detail. GJ]

The Chicago concert was most successful. In the subsequent reception I was conscious that my libido, always aroused after a triumphant couple of hours on the podium, was unusually rampant. The prospects, however, were bleak. Apart from one woman, the guests were all couples, starchy and boring. The exception was a woman of about fifty, small, fine-boned with deep dark eyes but otherwise unexceptional. She sought me out and we made polite conversation. Almost in desperation, I enquired about her husband. He was away in Europe, turning a lot of dollars into a lot more dollars, she said. After carefully looking round, she leaned towards me on the pretext of taking my glass to refill it, and said quietly, "Would you like to fuck me?"

I smiled at her and nodded, hoping that the rest of the gathering was unaware of our little conspiracy. "Give me your room number - I know your hotel," she said. As soon as I had done so, she moved away, refilled my glass and returned bringing two pillars of Chicago society to ask me inane questions. Five minutes later, she was nowhere to be seen.

When the gentle tap at the door of my suite materialised I was more surprised than excited: I had half concluded that she had had her thrill from simply making the suggestion, and that would be the end of it. She would fade away anonymously and tomorrow I would be on the plane home. No great loss, was my opinion: she had no obvious allure. However, when I opened the door, there she was. She stepped inside and, without preliminary, said, "I had no option but to be forthright. I didn't want any of those cows carrying you off. I can be better than any of them if you want me."

Before I could think quite how to respond, she went on, "All you need to know is that my husband has been in Europe for almost two weeks. He is very demanding and so I have come to expect a lot of sex. Which I haven't had for too long." She paused, regarding me as though carefully weighing what she would say next. "I must also tell you that I am a submissive. You can do anything you like with me. Does that put you off?"

On the contrary, I found that I was immediately aroused, remembering an occasion in Tokyo on a previous tour. To a degree the Japanese woman then had been submissive, but to her husband's commands. Our jousting together had been more or less as equals. This seemed to be something entirely different.

"I don't know your name," I said, rather lamely while I sifted my mind for ways to exploit the totally unprecedented situation in which I found myself.

"There is no need," she said. "We will fuck for an hour or two - how long, and how, is entirely your decision. When you have finished with me, I will go. It is unlikely that we will meet again. Why should you need my name?"

There seemed no logical answer, so I turned my thoughts again to pursuing our mutual pleasure. I asked her to remove her dress.

"There is no need to ask," she said, as she raised the hem. "Just tell me."

Underneath she wore bra, panties, suspender belt and stockings in black silk. Her breasts were larger than I had previously noticed and the nipples were already prominent through the thin material that covered them.

"Your tits," I said, adapting to what seemed to be required. "Show me."

She removed the bra and stepped close to me. "Slap them, please. I need that."

Of course, Celia had always enjoyed presenting her bottom for my attention as a prelude to our other activities but anything of that kind had never been the raison d'etre of our sex life. In that Chicago hotel, I discovered a corner of myself that had previously lain dormant. The more bizarre the situation became, the more I became aware that I was responding.

I said, "When I'm ready. I'll deal with those nipples first." For several minutes I teased, pressed and twisted the hard black nodules, noting that she bit her lip to control any pain. When, eventually, I slapped the two creamy orbs with the flat of each hand alternately, she gasped but still thrust forward for more treatment.

Conscious that the sounds we were making might penetrate to the next suite, I turned on the television, intending to raise the volume. I then remembered that the hotel provided pay channels with pornographic videos. Among the titles I saw "Spank me, please." Two birds with one stone, I thought: anyone overhearing any sounds we might generate would probably put them down to the video, while at the same time we could have some visual entertainment to accompany our own endeavours.

Having set the video running, I returned to my companion. "The arm of the couch," I said, "bend over and I'll attend to your arse." (Americans say Ass but I prefer anglo-saxon). She obeyed and I stood behind her enjoying the view of her succulent buttocks with the black panties taut across them. Beyond, and in clear view now of us both, the screen showed a nurse, face down on a doctor's lap, having her panties removed.

"Watch the screen," I said. "You'll be getting some of that. First, legs wider." They were good legs. For a woman of her age she was in excellent shape. I spent a while slapping her. Again she was unable to control her gasps as I dealt each blow, but she made no other sound. The nurse in the video was more vocal.

When I paused for a while to contemplate the roseate tinge at the edge of the black silk, she made to stand up. "Stay down," I commanded. "I want to enjoy your arse some more."

She spoke but her words were muffled by the cushions of the couch as she remained bent forward across the arm. When I failed to reply she turned her head to one side and asked, "Are you going to fuck my ass?"

Frankly, the idea had not occurred to me. Although it is not one of Celia's attributes, I had occasionally encountered women who were anally receptive but when I have been tempted I have always broached the subject very carefully; if it is not well received it can easily break the erotic connection in an otherwise admirable liaison.

There were now two doctors dealing with the nurse who was naked apart from stockings and suspender belt.

"Wait and see," I said. I was beginning to understand that the submissive derives satisfaction from apprehension; these really are the women who say no when they mean yes.

For now, I will pass over the various dalliances which followed, the demonstration of masturbation I demanded, the oral service she was required to provide as I became more and more assured in my role, the further spanking, the finger-fucking. We had indeed spent most of the two hours she had foreseen when I issued the command, "Kneel."

She did so.

"Use your hands to open your arse cheeks."

Again she complied. The little brown ring was exposed. Initial exploration revealed that first one, and then two fingers were accommodated without resistance. Taking my cock in my hand, I eased into her. Whether she was hoping for something more violent, I cannot say, but that has never been my nature. Even in this - for me - unprecedented experience, I had a genuine desire to provide a harmonious climax.

I was aware that she was not averse to feeling me entering her rectum by the way she pressed back towards me. Although my penis is not huge it is not negligible, so I was pleasantly surprised to feel my pubic hair encounter her arse cheeks; she had taken my full length. Encouraged, I began to fuck, slowly at first as she loosened, then with more speed and more force.

The sensation was exquisite. My previous anal adventures had involved the use of a lubricant, but my anonymous American partner apparently generated her own. Tight though the aperture was, I was soon able to glide in and out almost as though I were enjoying a little-used vagina.

But try as I did to prolong the repeated penetration, I sensed that the end could not be delayed indefinitely. I contemplated discharging in her anus but some instinct made me think that the true submissive would prefer something more humiliating. On the brink of ejaculation, I withdrew and ordered her on to her back. Squeezing my cock with my hand to retain control, I took a position kneeling astride her.

"Open wide," I said. It was unnecessary. She had anticipated what was coming and her mouth was already agape. It needed only a few firm strokes of my shaft before the first spurt emerged, directed carefully over her face. While I knew there was still more to offer, I placed my knob between her lips which closed instantly. "Suck," I said, "Take it all."

Obediently, she drew every last drop from me, swallowed, gasped as my declining member withdrew, then rubbed her fingers into the semen on her cheeks and licked them dry.

"I will go now," she said, disappearing into the bathroom clutching her clothes. She emerged a few moments later, dressed and freshly made up.

Her only other words, just before she stepped through the door, were, "It was good. What i needed. Goodbye."

And she was gone. The video was still playing but I had no interest in it.

[If this narrative lacks chronology, I can only say that Robert himself appears to have recorded his exploits more or less at random, as they occurred to him. This next section deals with his relationship with Celia and the pact they made at the breakfast table, as described earlier. GJ]

Celia was always better than I at keeping our bargain. Asked for an account of any dalliance of mine, I would reply with generalities but she always wanted details: how old was the woman, what did she look like, what did she wear and, of course, what did we do, did she have any special techniques. I have to admit that having listened, my dear wife was invariably at her most lubricious. I could not complain.

When I asked her to report on her activities, she was never reticent. They were not, in fairness, numerous (certainly nowhere near as numerous as my own) but a remarkable trend emerged. Her exploits were almost all with other women. Sometimes a couple would be involved and Celia would be pleasured by the man but her reason for making the assignation was always to enjoy, and be enjoyed by, the woman.

Celia was genuinely surprised at my reaction to this revelation. "My dear old thing," I remember her saying, "you're surely grown up enough to realise that no-one knows better what works for a woman than another woman. And don't think we are a lot of closet lesbians. You would be astonished if you knew how many women are genuinely bisexual. Not all of them are active but a whole lot more would like to be. Now be honest, doesn't the idea turn you on?"

I hesitated. The idea was certainly arousing, but what would be the consequences of admitting as much?

"Put it this way, then," said Celia. "Would you like to see me with another woman? Because it could be arranged. And it might help you understand that what goes on between women isn't a substitute. It's different and very nice, but we still need what a man can give us. So, if you are good, you might get to fuck both of us."

An offer too good to refuse? Of course it was. It came to pass, and more than once. In fact, Celia told me that she always made my eventual participation a condition of any new relationship. She was like a gun dog retrieving a pheasant and dropping it at the master's feet for approval.

More than once I returned home from rehearsal to find Celia having lunch or coffee with a new acquaintance; her social circle was wide and she clearly had an extraordinary instinct for detecting those of a similar inclination. Any embarrassment I might have felt she allayed with her usual directness and charm.

"Robert," she would say, "this is so-and-so. We met at the theatre the other evening and I've told her all about you. Open a bottle of wine and we'll take it up the bedroom." Then she would look from her friend to me and say with her innocent, disarming smile, "The sooner I have her head between my legs the better, don't you agree?"

Over the period of perhaps three or four years, I suppose she must have set up sessions with a dozen or more women, some more frequently than others but none was ever a one-night stand. Further acquaintance gave us deeper understanding of each individual third party, what her desires were, what her special contribution could be.

I never ceased to admire the subtlety and sensitivity with which Celia applied herself to her female partners. The language she used was always tailored to the occasion: some needed polite euphemisms, almost as though they were pretending to themselves that they were not being thoroughly serviced by an adroit companion, others responded energetically to the most basic vocabulary. Knowing my penchant for expensive lingerie, Celia always sought to make the preliminaries tantalisingly seductive, whether conducting a gradual striptease or suggesting that I should sit or lie on the floor to get the full benefit of the view underneath a skirt.

Although it was understood that my turn would come, she never skimped her attention to her friends, murmuring the appropriate endearments, requests and instructions, using tongue and fingers with incredible variety, both delicate and forceful. Similarly, she liked nothing better than to surrender herself to another's attention, often encouraging the use of a vibrator or a strap-on phallus. My own participation could take the form of penetrating the two of them alternately or successively, or it could entail mounting one from the rear while she applied herself to the other. The question of whether condoms would be used or not was always agreed between the two women well in advance, similarly the matter of how to receive my eventual ejaculation.

This whole arrangement had only one disappointment: there was one partner whom Celia was unable to deliver for our joint pleasure. Yet, this was a woman, Celia assured me, whose sexuality was irresistible, a woman of unlimited appetite and imagination. I agreed that Celia should continue to meet her, hoping, as we both did, that in time she might relent. She continued to deliver what Celia described as a more passionate and exhaustive experience than any she enjoyed with any other female partner, but she would never agree to a meeting when I might be present.

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Old Hall Chambers, January 2005

There is more. Some i have admitted because it is merely repetitious, some because it seems to have been set down when Robert was at his least coherent, some because I fear that, even disguised, it might lead to persons still alive being identified. I trust that what I have transcribed is sufficient to fill in some of the lacunae in Robert's authorised biography. He was first and foremost a great conductor. But he was also a rounded individual with human strengths and weaknesses who should be seen as such.

I am aware that there are two issues raised in the foregoing which have not been resolved. One concerns any relationship between Robert and me. On that point I am not prepared at this juncture to be candid. However, it is in memory of Celia, a warm, generous and charming woman, that I feel it necessary to disclose that i was the woman who declined to become the third member of her activities.

GJ