An Interview with Justine

Big Tits

Sept. 1st, 1973

Carl Beswick Interviews Ms. Justine Ulla Roschmann

America International Corp.

Royal Cathcart Hotel, Hong Kong 15:45 – 17:00 hrs.

“Testing, testing. 1, 2, 3. 3, 2, 1, testing, testing. This is Carl Beswick.”

**Tape Recorder on Play**

Miss Roschmann enters Bendick’s Tea Room located within the Cathcart Hotel. She is wearing light blue shorts with matching blue button down short sleeve shirt. Her hair is worn up in a loose bun. The has a pair of sunglasses atop her head and tan purse. She is radiant and even more stunning in person than her eye popping photographic images. Ms. Roschmann’s figure is almost beyond words. She is a real life Amazon at 6 ft. Her lovely tan accentuates her outrageously long muscle toned legs. Her incomparable chest heaves and sways with every move she makes.

She spots me, smiles (Ultrabrite would be proud) and approaches. Everyone in the room turn their heads. Men nearly snap their necks to get a look. I am sure she’s used to having that effect by now (she’s 23 y.o.). Justine is simply a wet dream come alive.

JR: Why hello. You’ve gotta be Mr. Carl Beswick. (She extends her hand)

CB: Oh please, call me Carl. The pleasure’s all mine. (I help her get seated, and what a “seat” she has.

A waiter comes over and hands her a menu. I notice his eyes dart to the cleavage she’s showing and back to his order pad. She orders a small variety of sweets with tea. I order the same.)

CB: I want to thank you for coming at such short notice to meet with me and do this interview.

JR: Don’t worry about it. No sweat. Actually I’m passing through Hong Kong on my way to Japan. So you caught me at a good time.

CB: Oh, ok great. Well at least that makes me feel better. For a while I thought I was dragging you all the way out here.

JR: Nope not at all. (she beams a smile)

CB: Let me ask, for anyone whom doesn’t know. Were you born in the U.S. or Norway?

JR: Ah, yeah everyone seems to think I was born in the States when in reality I was born in Norway. I moved to the States when I was two and ultimately to Solsona, California which is near San Dimas.

CB: You must love it there. I mean looking at you, you’re the quintessential southern California blonde.

JR: Awww, thank you for saying that.

CB: You’ve done local commercials down in the L.A. San Diego area haven’t you?

JR: Hmmm, mmmm yes I have. I did two (commercial) spots for Continental Airlines, and a print advertisement for a foreign sports car dealership near Rodeo in L.A..

CB: That’s the one where you’re posing next to a Ferrari right?

JR: Yes!

CB: You purchased that car later right?

JR: Actually I bought it a week earlier when the owner asked if I wouldn’t mind doing a photo-shoot.

CB: I have a sense that business picked up right after it went to print.

JR: (Laughing) Right on! You know it did!

CB: Oh, and congratulations on your Barnaby Jones appearance. That must’ve been fun to do.

JR: Thanks and yes it was! Buddy Ebsen was very nice. He loved talking about sailing. He’s got a boat in Venice and goes out quite often. Lee Meriwether was sweet too, the whole production team in fact were very nice to work with.

CB: You played your role quite well as a barmaid.

JR: Well I was only in two scenes but hey it’s a start. The outfit they had me wear at first was smothering my girls, but after a few adjustments it worked out.

CB: Ah, when you say “your girls” you mean…

JR: What else! (laughs pointing to chest)

CB: Your figure is simply amazing. One would be hard pressed to find a gentleman who wasn’t captivated by your legs for instance or your…

JR: Tits and ass. I can tell you that having my figure hasn’t been easy. The worst critics are actually women. When I was in middle and high school I got flack from both girls and boys. Then in college it was women especially the so called liberated ones who hated me seemingly because they’re so plain Jane. They’re all jealous they don’t have the body I have,…or face. I’ve been labeled every name in the book from slut to tart and more believe me.

CB: I believe you. You can either run and hide, and hate yourself because of their criticism, or face them and fight ’em so to speak.

JR: Exactly! Which is what I did. I toyed with them, used them, and manipulated the hell out of them. They deserved it. One kiss from me and every bra burner and stuck up male I desired was mine. It was so entertaining to see them all fighting one another for little ol’ me. (batting her eyelashes in a comical way). I know that sounds so evil but if could see what kind of people they were,…

CB: Zonguldak Escort Hey I’m not arguing with you. If anything those people brought it all upon themselves. But yes, you’re very evil.

JR: (Narrowing her eyes and wagging her finger) Oh, you have no idea.(smiles).

CB: Well you obviously have no problem tooting your own horn.

JR: No I guess not. (smiles) It’s a defense mechanism I suppose. Being so self assured drives guys and gals crazy so I use it to my advantage.

CB: I bet. You must’ve had or should I say have every man after you from the average Joe to oil sheiks.

JR: Oooh, you touched on a recent adventure of mine.

CB: Uh-oh.

JR: No, it’s a doozie. Put it to you this way, in just two days I was paid a whole lotta bread to ball several Arabs.

CB: When you say Arabs we are talkin’ rich ones right?

JR: Uh, yeah oil sheiks! Dig this, the main dude was none other than Nasir bin Turqi.

CB: You’re pullin’ my leg! The 500 Million Dollar Arab?

JR: Yep. All that money and he’s sporting a (wags her pinky) and so is his son. Both have dicks the size of thumbtacks.

CB: (Laughing) Aha, so to be clear you balled bin Turqi, his son, and…

JR: His bodyguards, plus some other guy so that would be around twenty or twenty five guys. It all went down on his boat,…or should I say ship named “The Falcon”.

CB: I’m speechless. You’re like a cock absorber.

JR: Oh, you have no idea. (gives naughty smile)

CB: I’m gonna have to take a very cold shower after this interview. So were any of the guys big downstairs?

JR: (laughs) The only one of the entire group who was hung was his main bodyguard. He was a respectable 12 incher. Thick too but I drained him till he was dry as the desert.

CB: I’d pay to tag along on your adventures.

JR: (laughs)

CB: Okay I’ve gotta ask. Who’s the biggest guy and what were you not able to do with him.

JR: Are you doubting my sexual abilities my dear Mr. Beswick?(smiles) His name is Paul and he’s gigantic. We’re talking about a third leg, a real tripod man.

CB: He sounds like a stud.

JR: No, he’s a super stud. He’s built like he’s from Mt. Olympus. Paul could make Hercules look like a wimp. Mmmm man he’s sooo yummy.

CB: And how large is his manhood?

JR: Over two feet of solid sex meat. Thick as hell too. He’s a dream and fuckin’ incredible in bed. His balls are like the size of softballs. Paul’s a fuck machine.

CB: Jeez, well from what you’re sayin’ it appears you’ve met your match. So how much,…if any were you able to take of his dick.

JR: Oh Carl, you don’t get it do you? (smiles) I swallowed that mother whole.

CB: Huh? No way Jose, nuh uh.

JR: Oh yeah baby, every last inch of him,…everywhere. All the way down my throat, and all the way up my heavenly P and A. Seeing his massive thing at full mast throbbing, dripping from my juice. Shit I have got to call him and get a reaming. The only down side to him if you can call it that, is the fact he can’t last as long as I’d like him too. He always gives in within an hour of pounding. I could go on and on and,…

CB: Oh,…man. (squirming because I start getting hard. What man couldn’t at this stage. Maybe it’s the way she looks, the way she speaks, her tits, eyes, lips etc. but she is having some kind of effect upon me.) Wow I really got to take a breather.

JR: (laughs) You getting’ hot huh?

CB: Does it show? (I laugh)

JR: Uh, huh. Like you’re gonna pop any second.

CB: I read someplace that there is a doctor surgeon from Baltimore who you’re quite fond of as well.

JR: Yes, yes indeed. That would be Lon Gordon. He is shall we say extremely skilled and I don’t mean as a surgeon.

CB: Well you could say he operates on your you know what.

JR: (laughs) Yes sir! Indeed he does! He’s got an 18 inch whopper and man do I dig it. You know if I could be “operated” on by Lon and Paul I’d have an orgasm somewhere on the neighborhood of a 10 on the sex Richter scale. (she giggles).

CB: So does Lon’s wife and kids know?

JR: No, and please don’t make mention of it okay. I dig Lon and I don’t want him getting into trouble.

CB: How old is he btw?

JR: Uh, Lon is in his 50s.

CB: I see. So in your little black books…

JR: How do you know about those!? (she feigns surprise)

CB: Hey, come on I do some research now and then. So as I was about to ask, who is the youngest guy and do you have any women listed in the books?

JR: Well when you say youngest are you referring to when I was in school or the present. Why not go for both?

JR: I had a feeling Zonguldak Escort Bayan you were gonna ask that.

CB: Wait before you answer I assume you’ve balled only guys with big cocks so who was the youngest, when and how big.

JR: Oh okay. Well that would be Steve Lipton 8th grade during our class trip to Washington. He was around a 9 incher. That pretty much made me a size queen from that day onward. Then in the summer of that year a friend of my aunt had me in the basement.

CB: It was consensual right?

JR: Yeah, it was. I was a huge tease and my libido was in high gear. I wore a G cup bra by then and I had every male for miles slobbering to get my attention. Anyhow this friend of my aunt’s was a pilot for American and he was your typical captain looking figure you’d find portrayed in magazine ads. Salt and pepper hair, blue eyes, and in his 50s. He sported a thick mother over 15 inches, and he had a truly big set of balls. I can still cum thinking of what he and I did and we did it every week. I think he became obsessed over me.

CB: Wow, well can you blame him? So this Captain made you in a sense, along with Steve.

JR: Steve made me a size queen. Captain,…I’ll call him by his first name Perry, Captain Perry switched me on all the way up man. I balled a huge prick every which way for weeks learning my trade. I got more cum out of his balls than all the women he’s ever had do to him combined. By the end of the summer there wasn’t a cock I couldn’t handle or deep throat.

CB: You really must’ve driven him crazy. Wow that’s something. So you dig older men then right?

JR: Not necessarily, it’s just that many older guys know usually know how to operate their weapon. Now you notice that I said “many” and not “all”. I have met some very hung guys who were fucking clueless on what to do. That’s a big turnoff.

CB: So what if you were to meet a virgin would you be turned off?

JR: Au contraire! I’d see that as a student who I can mold and create into a super stud. It helps if the virgin has a huge one of course.

CB: Oh, of course. So any virgins in your books?

JR: Uh huh, three guys and 4 girls. (gives an evil grin)

CB: You turned them into sexual deviants?

JR: (laughs) Let’s just say I’m so proud of my former students, and yes I turned them all into super freaks. (She says laughing)

JR: My teasing had only just begun. (She sings the last four words to the Carpenters song ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’)

CB: Ah well, ah let’s take a quick break. I’m feeling a bit flush all of a sudden.

JR: (Justine gets up from her seat and sits next to me in the booth) You want me to take your temperature?

CB: (I’m sitting inches away from 6 feet of woman built like some live cartoon character created by a very horny cartoonist. I can’t help seeing her chest rise and fall. My God, I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. Her headlights are on full beam! Simply mesmerizing. Her beautiful bee stung lips. Christ they’re so sensuous. How many cocks and pussies have they come into contact with I wonder.) Yeah Justine, it’s time for me to take a break. (I try to get up).

JR: (Places her left hand on my thigh) Shhhhh, take it easy cowboy.

CB: (I notice she has small faint freckles across her nose. Her perfume is amazing, and has a hypnotic effect over me. Her blue eyes are beckoning) Oh, ok Miss Roschmann, I do have a policy of no fraternization with my interviewees. (That was incredibly hard to say)

JR: (She leans over to me and I’m looking at stunning cleavage) Okay Mr. Bewsick, but your prick says otherwise.

CB: ( I find it incredibly difficult to resist Justine. Part of me wants to tear her blouse right off and play with her capacious chest.) Yeah, it uh,…it is isn’t it? (I quickly notice a yellow envelope that she has sticking out of her handbag) Oh are those the photos you mentioned you’d bring?

JR: Yeah, I almost forgot to show them to you. (She takes out a small collection of b/w photographs in different sizes)

CB: Wow these are stunning. Jeez look at you! (Most of the photos are of Justine posing in numerous outfits, others are of her nude which makes my cock twitch. My mouth waters just by looking at them, my heartbeat begins to race.)

JR: You like them huh? I like these two that make me look like a 1940s era starlet. I mainly go to three photographers whom I trust. Two are in L.A. and the other is in West Germany. The guy who photographed me as a starlet is Charles Balfour. He’s got a studio off Wilshire.

CB: Oh, yeah I’ve heard of him. He’s done some amazing work,…and these (photos) are no exception.

JR: Oh you’ll like this one. Here Escort Zonguldak are two of me during my Senior year at Solsona High. Our mascot was a Saracen.

CB: Aw, you were a cheerleader. I really dig the outfits. (Her uniform was a white and red ensemble consisting red/white pleated skirt cut above the knee with a white sweater emblazoned with two red letters in red; SH. Her white socks and spectator shoes seem oddly innocent while screaming sex at the same time) Your skirt looks awfully short. (Her ass my God!)

JR: I had mine altered a bit to show more leg.

CB: My God Justine, your sweater (in the photograph) was under incredible strain! Awww, and I feel so bad for the other girls in the squad especially when they’re standing next to you as in this picture. Your routine had to make every guy in the crowd go bananas. (My dick is raging)

JR: You bet it did. Hey maybe I’ll show you my routine sometime. (She gives me a sly smile) You know I’d rustle my pom-poms over my head and twist my torso so that my girls shimmied back and forth. (She laughs) I did that every time our team got a touchdown or sacked the other team’s quarterback. (Oh God I’m going to have to take a cold shower after this interview)

CB: Speaking about sacks and quarterbacks, did you just cheer for the team or did you do a bit more?

JR: You have a filthy mind Carl. (She smiles) Of course I did but not the whole team, just the quarterback and the fullback. They both had huge ones, biggest on the whole team.

CB: You must’ve made quite an impression on them.

JR: Mmmmm, balled ’em dry cowboy. (She winks) I own every stud’s balls.

CB: Oh man, oh man. Okay,…okay uh, let me check my list of questions that I wanted to ask. As an empowered young woman, and in this age of liberation what do you think of Women’s Lib and what are your opinions about groups like NOW?

JR: (Justine leans forward elbows on table) First of all I support Women’s Lib. Do for example, burn my bras? No, because they cost a fortune. Do I find the bra some sort of symbol of repression? No, it’s an undergarment for breasts. You know some people just have too much time on their hands to come up with such bull. It’s such a drag you know? I went two a couple of NOW meetings and I walked away with mixed feelings. On the one hand the group could do some good reaching out to women of every race and whatnot but every single meeting broke down to simply hating men. I felt every women there give me the evil look as if I was the reason why men didn’t give them attention.

CB: You think that’s why women really go to groups like NOW? Because they don’t get men’s attention?

JR: For some yeah, actually for most I’d say. I really hate to be mean but a lot of the women are so hard on the eyes, it’s no wonder that men aren’t banging on their doors to ask them out for a date or a good fuck. So they just give up looking for a man and in the end despise men in general.

CB: If you were in their shoes would you feel the same way?

JR: I don’t know. I suppose,…well,…maybe I don’t know. Then again if they looked like me would they still have those feelings?

CB: Touché.

JR: (Smiles)

CB: Who is Saburo Sasaki?

JR: Oh man. (She laughs and her cheeks become red. She appears embarrassed by something)

CB: I should say Dr. Saburo Sasaki. I’ve heard something from the grapevine concerning some sort of sexual experiment?

JR: Dr. Sasaki contacted me about doing an experiment on human sexuality a few months ago. As a matter of fact I’m headed up to the University of Tokyo to see him this week about it.

CB: Ah, I see. May I ask what sort of experiment?

JR: Okay well here’s the deal. He wants to hook me up to a machine that simulates sex.

CB: Whoa. Hold it a minute. You mean he wants to hook you up to a ,…a fuck machine? Am I hearing this right?

JR: (Sighs) Yeop. (smiles)

CB: Aha, and he’s going to test what exactly?

JR: The biochemical response or something like that during the act of fucking.

CB: May I watch? (smiling)

JR: Oh, you do have a dirty mind. I like that Carl. (winks)

CB: So, this isn’t some weird scheme to get Dr. Sasaki’s marbles off is it?

JR: (She laughs. What a smile) Marbles! Uh, well apparently he’s built a few versions of this contraption and actually has written papers on the subject at the university. I wish I had some of the photos he mailed me. The machine looks freaky.

CB: Uh, huh. Well freaky or not you’ll wind up breaking his sex machine.

JR: (Grinning)

CB: And still be horny.

JR: (She laughs) You never know I probably will. (smiling)

CB: Well one way or the other I’m going with you. I have got to see this so called experiment in action.

JR: Now Carl, I think it’s time I interview Mr. Happy down there. (she nods to the growing wet spot on my crotch) I think he has something to say. (Justine gives me a wry smile)

**End of recording, Part 1**

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