The new episode “The Jujutsu Photo Shoot” is with 45 manuscript standard pages much longer than the previous volumes of the Marion F. series. More space for mental cinema, character development and sensory impressions.

As an aside, Marion’s back view has also disappeared from the cover. This had the advantage of a high recognition effect but made it unnecessarily difficult for the superficial observer. The red-brown banderole under my name already shows that this is a Marion F. story.

What is the new volume about?

Marion wants to do her blue belt in Jujutsu on the coming Sunday but becomes unsteady during the last training before the exam. She would like to practice a bit more with her trainer. But he has scheduled a photoshoot for the evening, for which he has specially booked a model.

He offers Marion a deal: If she wants, she can take part in the shoot. In return, he will take her for an extra practice session. Her joy subsides when she learns that it’s about nudes.

As if that were not enough, she discovers that the model is a tanned twenty-year-old who knows how to put herself in the limelight. And she has no fear of contact.

Reading Sample

I stood under the shower and soaped myself up. My mind was still on my workout. When I thought that I was going to do my second kyu on Sunday, the result of the past two hours was pretty disastrous. The dojo, where we trained jujutsu once or twice a week, was located in a backyard in Ottensen, a Hamburg district near Altona station. Once a working-class settlement, more and more artists and bohemians had spread out in this quarter since the seventies so that Ottensen soon became a center of the alternative scene. Therefore, no one thought of installing separate showers for men and women in our training hall. No one in Ottensen wants to be thought of as stuffy. Besides, on the second floor of the old factory floor, where we had set up our dojo, separate showers would not have been possible at all, if only for reasons of space.
Most of the guys had finished and were already getting dressed. Next to me stood Lena under the jet, a petite compact blonde whose long hair developed more and more into dreadlocks. Although she was barely older than 18, she had large, heavy breasts that inevitably kept catching my eye as I showered. Also conspicuous about her were her inner labia, which were significantly larger than the outer ones and protruded from the bulging pubic for everyone to see. At first, this sight had irritated me, but I got used to it in the meantime.
Until just now, Samuel had also been standing next to us. He was half a head taller than Lena, with a well-trained body. As he walked away, I glanced briefly at his firm buttocks. I liked the little dimples in his cheeks. He joined us in training not long ago but was doing so well that he had earned his first three belts in record time. Although I’ve been around a lot longer, he managed to throw me to the ground several times today in the free fight. This was not good for my self-confidence at all. I seriously doubted whether I would be able to pass the examination for the second kyu on Sunday. This exam was not taken by Marcel, our sensei, but by a befriended master. Marcel wanted to prevent this way that we took the exams too easy. Of course, I wanted to please Marcel. He is a wiry Swiss with a pleasantly muscular body. No wonder, after all, he already has the sixth dan and wears his keikogi accordingly with a red and white belt. I was just preparing for the blue obi and felt like a beginner compared to him.
While we’re on keikogi’s subject, I still had to think about what to wear under the white battle dress on Sunday. When training here in Ottensen, I was walking around without a t-shirt or sports bra underneath. The gi is laced at the waist and held in place by the belt. Men traditionally wear it on their bare skin. From there, I thought it was prudish to keep it any other way. Although, according to etiquette, this would be allowed. True, it occasionally happens when a training partner grabs me too hard by the collar that the jacket opens up to the waist in front. But this has rarely resulted in more than a quick glance at my sideboobs.
I experienced only once during a free fight that a young fellow satisfied his curiosity by excessive collar grabs. After he tried to pin me to the floor, I noticed the bulge in his crotch and spoke to him about it. He never came to practice again.
But I would hardly have this problem on Sunday at the test, I reasoned.
Marcel joined us in the shower room. He looked me in the eyes for a long time.
„Are you sure you want to go through with this on Sunday?“ he asked gently.
„You sound like it’s not a good idea.“
„As far as your attitude goes, I’m not worried. You come to practice regularly, you’re focused, and you’re proving your sensei …“ Marcel interrupted himself to continue with a smirk, „…the respect he deserves.“
I felt myself blush. Marcel cared as little as I did about etiquette, and when he talked about himself in the third person as master or sensei, it seemed a little funny. It was evident that I had my eye on him for some time. But so far, it had remained with innocuous banter that could mean everything or nothing. Which was perhaps due to the age difference. He was four to five years younger than me.
He unknotted his obi and put it aside. When he unfolded his uwagi, his jacket, I saw his well-toned belly. And noticed how my right hand strayed into my lap and slowly massaged it. This could well be construed as offensive. So I quickly pulled my hand away and removed the soap from my calf instead.
„But?“ I asked.
„You do realize that Joachim will ask you about certain techniques, right?“
„What are you getting at?“
„I don’t want you to have to think long and hard when he asks you for a Harai Goshi or Uchi Mata. The throws have to come right away. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if he asks you for a Kyushojutsu and you try to impress him with a hand edge strike like you did me earlier?“
Again, the blood rushed to my head.
Marcel undid the knot on his trousers and pushed them off his butt. He folded them neatly, put them on the bench and joined us women in the shower. I would have liked to press myself against him and let my hands glide over his naked body. But as long as Lena was around, I wouldn’t give myself that exposure.
„I think I have the basic techniques down,“ I said. „The foot attacks still worry me a bit.“
„Do you mean the Atemi or the Ashi Waza?“ corrected Marcel.
„Especially the Yoko Geri.“
„You won’t be able to get around that one on Sunday.“
„Would it be okay with you if we didn’t finish today but went back to the hall and practiced?“
„I can’t. I have another appointment.“
„Can’t you reschedule it?“
Marcel laughed and bent down for his shampoo.
„I’ll owe you something, too,“ I said ingratiatingly. „Dinner or whatever you want.“
„Sounds good, but I can’t.“
„A business meeting?“
Lena turned off her shower and put a hand on my shoulder in farewell. The other hand landed on Marcel’s back.
I didn’t miss the way Marcel eyed Lena. He stared at her buxom rear end longer than necessary as she went to her clothes. His cock grew significantly in size as he did so.
„No, a hobby of mine. But I’m meeting someone I ordered specifically for tonight.“
„So, a date?“
„In a manner of speaking.“
„A young, female date?“
He grinned. „None of your business, but yeah.“
„A hobby, so to speak.“
„It may sound strange, but I guess that’s what it is.“
Marcel said this with a strong Swiss accent. I already knew that about him. Whenever he lapsed into Swiss German, he was embarrassed or not entirely on the ball. He bit his lip and tried to soap his back.
„Can I help you?“ I took a step toward him.
„Nah, I’m good. Thanks.“ His gaze wandered across the tiled floor. I found his embarrassment appealing.
„Someone you special ordered …,“ I repeated.
„You’re not letting up, are you?“
I ran my hand up to his spine, spreading the soap in places he hadn’t reached himself. He sighed. Softly. Resignedly.
„I’ll take pictures when I find the time,“ he finally said.
It took my brain a moment to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
„A model?“ I asked.
„We want to take some photos today in a hall in the Oberhafenquartier.“
„Can’t you shoot them here? Our training hall has the same factory charm as the buildings in the harbor, doesn’t it?“
„And what would be gained by that?“
„Simple: you wouldn’t have to leave. In the time you’d be busy driving, we could practice some more. And if you want, you’ll have two models today instead of one. You know I’ve posed for various campaigns at the agency.“
He shook his head. „You don’t understand.“
„Do you want something from the woman?“
„She’s clearly too young for me.“
Lena cleared her throat. I’d forgotten she was still there.
„I’ll be going now,“ she said, raising her hand in farewell.
We waved back. As soon as Lena closed the door behind her, we delved back into our conversation.
„I have no intentions with her,“ Marcel said. „That’s not the problem. But we do nudes.“