Museum

The late time he was pursued by a constant smooth sexual excitement. There and then: he could not stay at the hotel (Masturbation helped a little) and moved to the erotic café, but it was still closed. Bad luck! He had nothing but go somewhere to spend time and he decided to look into the Riga Museum of the history of sex, especially because for more than ten years of absence, he was not able to visit it, and because in any case he had a fresh issue of the magazine "Uranist" with the new detective of a local author.

At first he was even interested in the exposition. He walked slowly along the walls, and the panorama of erotic stories was opened to him, dating from the iron age (graceful penis attachments, bronze phalli), then the remains of a charred wooden bed, he first took for the skeleton of a Viking Longboat, the gravestones of the famous courtesans, special machines for sophisticated love fun, like old cathedrals, various sashes of modesty, the extracts from legislative acts about prostitution and brothels statutes, all collected and stored with the greatest care, because Riga was obliged to this heritage its glory of erotic Mecca of Eastern Europe.

He lazily explored the extract from Sebastian Münster (1569): "this City is as big as the Freiburg... the Red district on the Bank of the Daugava river not worse than the Hamburg’s one. Livonians are having women in ugly and non-Christian positions. There are many professional prostitutes... on Summer they arrange real shows on the boats in the middle of the river."

Yes, cheerful burgher town, the town of prostitutes, merchants, priests and warriors. He descended to the second floor where our century began. The hall was big, long, pink and white. There were glass cabinets lined in one row with, filled with gorgeous color photos of naked girls, already yellowish erotic editions; somewhere he observed and studied with a magnifying glass the replicas of the most famous Riga hetaerae’s genitalia. It was cool and quiet, soon he felt unbearably excited. The attendant of Museum noticed that as well.

- Here, please! - she invited him in a narrow, but very cozy located little room. - Here you will be able to relax.

Indeed, here he was met by a young but already highly experienced creature, who committed half-hour erotic massage by all the rules of art absolutely for free.

- We have here everything provided for the convenience of the visitor, - she announced proudly, when he came to senses, and in fact feeling better. - But, sir, I would not advise you to stay in plaster casts section of the genitals - you are extremely excitable!

Really, he should take a breath a bit. In the next room he saw several comfortable sofas and decided to get on one of them with his journal. The detective must have been called "The longest stream" and it was about a man who sat serenely on the most honorable toilet bowl in the cafe for urinists-frequenters, and even at the wrong hour, quietly waiting when he will be brought a cup of coffee and that terribly annoyed the waiter who got used to perform a sacred act of "masturbatory urination": "Harald lit a cigarette. Only during this sexual act, he allows himself to smoke in the institution. He lights scented candles and polishes the toilet to a mirror shine. Then a series of almost ritual gestures follows, changing in the strict order: he drops his pants, for some time as if in disbelief considering his own penis and begins to bring it slowly into working condition".

It was fascinating reading, because at the very beginning the authors let us know that the stranger on the honor bowl will be involved in a brawl and killed. And here you read tensely waiting to see what his patient sitting will end with, and along the way the authors describe the frequenters, their sexual habits, the way of life and you can be totally sure they are great to know all that not just in theory.

The time of joint orgy begins, but the client is still sitting there. "There are more frequenters appeared, Harald knows beforehand who of them needs stimulants, devices, drugs. 1:00 PM sharp. A car stopped near the cafe, and the colonel came out of it..."

There was something elusively making him uneasy: either the measured life of the frequenters’ house, or something else. He raised his head involuntarily and found a concerned glance of another attendant of the museum. Perhaps, she deserves a few words.

Almost all the halls were attended by beauties to every taste in an unusually open clothing, but as for that hall the attendant there was a creature with fat legs, fair hair, heavy horse-face wearing ruined by washing blue robe. And then that creature was watching him and his colored magazine with avid curiosity. He followed her gaze and suddenly realized that the cover of the magazine was the picture of her, the attendant, just without the robe in shamelessly indecent position: massive thighs wide apart, the head thrown back, the balls of the breasts upright, she arched her back, picked up by the muscular arms of two young men and she was shooting straight into the face of the reader by hard foamy stream of crystal urine! The inscription below the image was reading: "Jadwiga, the champion urinist".

Meanwhile, Jadwiga had already approached him and started a careful conversation:

- I see gentleman is interested in the subject?

- I... actually..., - he murmured in confusion, because in general he had been a fan of the usual sex, and he was interested in such deviations just out of pure curiosity.

- I know, I know! - said the girl, winking conspiratorially. - It is not so easy to decide to. But you're the lucky one! Follow me!

She walked him up to the office arranged in rather unusual way: in fact, it was more like a large bathroom, richly equipped with a variety of devices for sophisticated urination as well as baths and other, unknown things to him.

Appeared nurses stripped him quickly and placed him in a bath of a special shape. Directly above the face a transparent seat with holes like a shower was located. He wanted to escape, to protest, but the noise of fragrant water flowing into the tub drowned out his cries. Besides, he was curios.

Suddenly someone's juicy ass perched right above him on the seat, he could watch the anus and the strained vulvar lips in details. He was excited. And at that time the urine ran down on his face. There was no way to avoid it - the bath design didn’t allow that. He resigned to his fate, having decided to endure, but "Golden rain" was flowing on and on, bathing his face with warm droplets. It seemed, the abyss of heaven opened up above him. Amazed he opened his eyes - another woman's butt was above him! Before he realized what was happening, it was replaced by another one, then another one again...

In half an hour he was carefully removed from the bath, thoroughly washed, wiped, wrapped with the fluffy sheet. Looked like they were sure he had become speechless for suddenly fallen on happiness. Their faces were shining with kindness, his was called as "brother". He didn't have the nerve to be rude to them. He barely escaped from their hospitable paws and rushed out of the tiny room... Two rooms after, he discovered two girls from that crazy company chasing him. He quickened the steps, tossed about – was he supposed to suffer some other, more serious ordeals?

- Your magazine, sir! - The girls spoke in unison. - Jadwiga gave you her autograph on it.

He muttered the words of thanks, took that stupid magazine pressing it under his arm, and rushed out into the street. The square was full of people. He trudged to erotic café - more out of inertia than following the needs. The neighbor at the first long table was sniffing something in disbelief, then suddenly and clearly cursed, glancing at the magazine and then she moved to another table. Her place was immediately occupied by a brisk young man:

- Nice to meet a brother! - he said happily. Suddenly he noticed the bold signature of Jadwiga. His look had become pleading and obsequious:

- Brother was awarded the "Golden rain" by the champion? Brother belongs to the select circle? I don’t dare to disturb you..., - the guy bowed with immense respect and disappeared.

"What a day", - he thought, hastily leaving the cafe, not to get stuck in a more stupid story. - "Fucked, pissed, autographed, and all that made me almost a celebrity... And this crazy Museum built in the heart of the city? That's a real erotic Mecca! Perhaps, the unaccustomed one should be careful here."