The smooth skin made my hands tingle. Massaging my aunt's nude body wasn't exactly a favorite pastime of mine, though, and I tried to take refuge in more distant thoughts. But the lesbian thing kept cropping up anyway. Much as I hated to admit it, there was pleasure in running my fingers over the soft curves. Pleasure in the touch of those dimpled buttocks....
Oh well, at least we were using the professional-type massage table this time,-a sign of honest endeavor. It was apparent that my Aunt Allegra really wanted a thorough job done. Later, no doubt, she would want something else, something a bit less business-like, but the sexual overtones seemed quite subdued at the moment and a real massage was called for. As real as an inexperienced young amateur like myself could give.
Only it wasn't entirely free of the other thing, of course-nothing that involved Allegra Murdock ever was. Even now she purred and throbbed like a cat on the verge of contentment. Her own special brand of contentment, naturally. The kind she had taught her available and uncomplaining little niece to provide.
Uncomplaining? Hah! The only reason I didn't complain was that it would have done no good. I sure felt like it, though. This flesh that got such tender treatment-oh, if I could just raise my hand and really smack it....
"Ouch!"
"Hmm? Hurt you?"
"Damn right you did."
"Sorry. I just don't know my own strength, Aunt Allegra."
"Okay, okay. Just be gentle."
"Uh-huh. Like this...."
"That's the way. You've developed a nice touch, you know? As long as you don't get careless. Oh, incidentally, I'd rather you didn't call me aunt any more. Especially when we go on that vacation trip to Florida; it just wouldn't fit in down there. Think you can remember that, Jody dear? Just call me Allegra, hmm?"
"I-I'll try. I'll have to get used to it, though."
"Please do. Not that it's a secret or anything...." Her voice faded, almost purring again. "We'll have such a good time, darling, that's the kind of place it is. You'll see. A place for lovers, not relatives. One long party...."
She went on mumbling like that, but I listened with only half an ear, having heard it all before. Or most of it, anyway--all about her friend in Florida with the big house and swimming pool. Even my calling her Allegra wasn't exactly new. The idea had already been hinted at a few times these past weeks. For that matter, we weren't so closely related to begin with-no blood ties, just a remote connection by marriage, not enough to be a real aunt-and-niece type of thing. Enough to put me in her custody, thought-temporarily at least-after a series of deaths and broken marriages tore up my young life and left me homeless. An impoverished orphan at eighteen, imagine, and wasn't I lucky to have such a rich and generous woman for a relative? Lucky indeed-and so was she, as it turned out, a lucky lesbian with a ripe plum dropped into her lap. So our relationship wasn't temporary any more, for obvious reasons, and poor little Jody Walsh now had a place to live and an "aunt" to live with; some joke! Oh, I was lucky, all right, lucky to have been born with a sense of humor. In a situation like mine, that sure helped.
I was born with lots of other things too, luckily, the more noticeable things that made me such a plum. Jet-black hair, soft and wavy and easily manageable, the kind that never needed fussing over. A pair of big blue eyes, all girlish innocence. And a budding body that added just the right touch of bitchy deviltry; let's face it, there was nothing innocent about my shapely legs and firmly ripening breasts! Nothing innocent about the way the boys in school used to stare at them either. Grown men, too. And lately, well, it was getting so I couldn't even walk out into the street without being ogled. Even women were turning around to take a second look. It made me feel like a beautiful movie star.
Hmm. Beautiful but dumb? Funny about that.
Just because I got bored and dropped out of school, that was the label most people pinned on me. Allegra sure seemed to think so, treating me almost like a servant sometimes, even lower than a poor relation. As if I couldn't understand what was going on.
"Jody?"
"Ummm...."
"You weren't listening."
"Oh. Sorry. Something you wanted?"
"No, just something that struck my mind. Something I just remembered about our hostess."
"Hostess?"
"Our hostess in Florida, stupid! Must I spell everything out for you? Weren't you paying any attention at all?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"What you need is a little discipline, then maybe you won't have so much to be sorry for. Hmm, speaking of discipline...." Her anger vanished, stroked away by my busy hands. "That's what I started to tell you, darling. About our hostess. Hildegarde. Oh, you just wouldn't believe...." Then, with a rippling shudder, "Hildegarde Kohl. She used to have a personal maid who was practically a slave to her. I saw her whip the girl once-and I mean really hit her with a whipmaybe ten times, right on the bare bottom-oooh, I can still see it, those fiery striped ass-cheeks! And then that kid just turned right around and kissed Hildegarde's feet and thanked her for the whipping. Like some kind of love ritual, almost."
I shuddered myself, visualizing the scene with as much disbelief as horror. But not without a certain excitement. Only I wished she wouldn't tell me stories like that. Bad enough to be making a lesbian out of me; did she have to throw in that freaky stuff, too?
But she had gotten it out of her system, evidently, and was now lying quiet, succumbing to the spell of the massage. Her flesh jiggled beneath my kneading palms. For a long time I remained at my task, rubbing the spine, stirring up circulation in the plump thighs and plumper buttocks, while she lay there quivering, her face buried in her arms. Twitching, too, twitching every now and then in response to the increasing intimacy of my fingertips, a familiar give-and-take for both of us. Oh, she had taught me well, the bitch! I could already feel a tug of sensual longing in my own loins.
The flesh was soft but resilient, a kind of rubbery plasticity that never ceased to amaze me. Quite a body for a woman that age, a little on the fat side but not flabby at all. Not a bad-looking old babe, really-dark eyes, auburn hair, nice features in general-rather pretty, in fact, when she wasn't screwing her face up in a sarcastic sneer. And the sarcasm was only a recent development, of course; before that she used to smile a lot, deliberately enticing in every way. Naked and smiling. No wonder she had so little trouble breaking me in! Voluptuous bitch ...
"Jody?"
"Uh-huh. Want to turn over now?"
"Please. Help me, will you? I feel so jumpy tonight. Be nice to me, hmm?"
"I-I'm always nice to you."
"That's not what I mean. I'm talking about the massage. Try not to be so rough, dear, just stroke me lightly. That's what I need. Nothing more."
"Oh? Nothing?"
"Well...." She chuckled coyly. "Well see. You just concentrate on your work, you greedy girl."
I knew she was teasing me, since there wasn't much doubt about how we would end up. But that was her mood tonight, obviously. To tease. Sometimes she wheedled, sometimes she ordered, sometimes she teased-always with the same result. And always with a kind of mildly arrogant petulance.
So it was teasing tonight. Knowing that, I was already getting myself into the proper' frame of mind. Long ago I had learned that the way to handle my bitchy aunt was to play along with her. She named the game and made up the rules, and it was always best to fall right in with the proceedings.
"Hey, what are you doing? Greedy, greedy. I told you to concentrate on your work, didn't I?"
"Yes, ma'm. I'm sorry. But you're so pretty. I get all excited touching you like-"
"Never mind."
"Uh-huh. Sorry."
"Greedy little monster...."
But it was only a matter of time, naturally. Her breasts were swollen, the nipples already stiff, poking right up into my cupped palms. I molded the fleshy mounds gently, working my fingers in slow and easy motions. After a while the sound of her breathing became noticeably erratic.
"Oooh ... darling, you do have a nice touch...."
Conscious of the hoarse quaver, I tickled her nipples some more and then began a downward glide, focusing on the in-and-out curve of her narrowing waist and broadening hips. As expected, I heard her breathy sighs turn into low-pitched moans. I was getting. pretty steamed up myself, too. I always did. Being teased or commanded made no difference, this body never failed to arouse me. This woman's body, this thing of tits and cunt. I still felt guilty about that, guilty over my own undeniably perverted reaction. And yet this self-same feeling of guilt was a life-preserver to cling to; how could I be a real lesbian with something like that bothering me? No matter what we did together, it was only a temporary stage I was passing through, an outgrowth of circumstance rather than need. My flesh might respond, but she would never conquer my mind. And unless that happened, it would be impossible for me to embrace this unnatural way of life unreservedly. So the guilt was a blessing in disguise, almost comforting to contemplate; how else could I remain sane and emotionally detached in the midst of such demanding sensuality?
And meanwhile, well, in moments like this the pleasure was like a hot wine, hot and sweet and intoxicating-and I saw no reason not to drink my fill. Oddly enough, my sense of guilt even heightened that pleasure. As if there was a thrill in wickedness for its own sake. Lesbian pleasure, lesbian guilt, lesbian thrill!-and I wasn't even a lesbian. The sin of being sinful had a delicious excitement of its own, somehow. Why not enjoy it? Or enjoy what I could, at least, without worrying myself sick over the vaguely possible consequences of such enjoyment.
No rush, though. I couldn't afford that self-indulgence. Despite my growing impatience, I was still giving a massage and had to go on with the pretense. My bossy Aunt Allegra was still the boss. Even when her plump form contorted spasmodically, even when her knees steepled and spread apart, I had to continue with the hotly kneading movements that verged on caresses but didn't quite stray over the demarcation line.
Her heavy calves hung loose now; I gripped them with a churning pressure, manipulating the limp flesh like a masseuse rather than a lover. In the same hopefully professional manner, I slid upward to attend her thighs, lingering now, finding a special charm in the velvety texture of the skin there-familiar, certainly, and yet no less intriguing for its familiarity. Every so often, not quite so professionally, I sent a grazing fingertip up one flank to wander across her softly rounded belly, eliciting a tiny gasp and a convulsive wriggle. Until at last I held that position awhile and then moved my separated hands toward each other, one upward along a fidgety thigh and the other downward into the shaggy tuft.
"Mmm ... you darling girl...."
"Feeling better now?"
"Much. You too, I'll bet."
It was the kind of statement that required no corroboration. None that could be spoken aloud, anyway, and I just let my fingers do the talking for me. I liked the tactile sensation but not the color; her hair was too dark there, with only a hint of that nice rich auburn up above-almost as dark as my own, actually, always a bit of a disappointment. Hardly a deterrent, though, and I went on wooing her eagerly. Only I was still being teased, apparently, which meant that I had to make a show out of it. I bent my head and panted a little, wetting my lips with a lewdly licking tongue.
Oh, it wasn't all show, of course, the bitch had me in a sexy stew by that time. And when her big body lurched and those raised limbs sprung like a fleshy trap around my bowed head, I surrendered only too readily. Except for that one instant of hesitation when I was smart enough to realize how uncomfortable my hunched-over position was going to get. Especially if it took as long as usual. And with my lips already brushing against the meeting place of my hands, I ventured a tentative suggestion.
"Allegra? Want me to help you into bed?"
"No."
"But you'll be more comfy-cozy if-" Her words stopped me, mumbled mostly, a stream of words, mumbled but meaningful, and I got the impression that the teasing was over and the bed was unnecessary and that I'd better start using that mouth and tongue of mine for something other than foolish chatter. A tirade, practically, leaving little room for protest and galvanizing me into immediate action.
The brush of my lips deepened to a kiss. Her thighs were hot against my cheeks. Standing there in a half-crouch, I burrowed into the moist darkness and strove mightily to give pleasure. Successfully, too, judging from the way her body began to squirm. The lesbian guilt struck again-I'm sucking cunt!-and the pleasure became mine, too. My mouth worked rapidly, ardently, hungrily; my lips closed and opened and closed again upon the tiny morsel of feminine flesh that I knew to be her center of sensitivity. It throbbed and pulsated and seemed to beg for more.
Only it wasn't begging, really, it was insisting. Even here between these soft thighs, here in this sensuously silky pit of sex, there was the reek of arrogance. Which left me no choice but to satisfy its demand. I fastened my mouth to the quivery warmth, shooting my tongue out in exploration. Except that I wasn't exploring exactly, oh no, this perfumed path had been traveled too many times for that. My tongue-tip moved with perfect precision.
"Jody ... ah!"
Yes, perfect. As if it had eyes of its own. Dart, flick, dab, tickle-amazing what an educated tongue could do! Uh-huh. In that casually negligent manner of hers, the sultry bitch had trained me well. I only wished there was an equally proficient tongue that could be put to use for my own personal benefit. The fretful yearning inside me needed sustenance. But I knew there would be no help forthcoming, oh shit, there never was any more. Not since those early days of my lesbian seduction. I would have to do it myself. With an educated finger, educated and experienced from way back-no thanks to her for that; it was something a girl learned early in life, with no guidance from any goddam dyke. Although it was only recently that I had begun to wonder what it would taste like, too, a cunt as young and fresh as mine. Like a bowl of spun-sugar candy maybe?
2
The place was enormous, an estate virtually, with spacious grounds that included a narrow strip of beach. Seldom used beach, from what I gathered, picturesque but pebbly-not much competition for the hygienically immaculate swimming pool, kidney-shaped and big as a lake. The house itself-"Flamingo Towers"-could only have been a millionaire's mansion, and the origin of its name was self evident even at a distance. Twin towers jutted upward from both ends of the central structure. And perched upon each, silhouetted against the Florida sky, were statues of flamingos. Poised, ready for takeoff, the great scarlet birds looked almost real. Truly a breathtaking sight....
Quite a shack, then. Far more impressive than I had expected, despite all of Allegra's advance notice. More impressive than its hostess too, for that matter, although the very ownership of such property was grandeur enough for any woman. Not that I had a right to pass judgment, actually, considering the brevity of our acquaintance. I got only a quick hello from Hildegarde Kohl and then she was gone, leaving her guests to fend for their selves. Off on a jaunt to Palm Beach, I found out later, visiting old friends and planning a new party. Which wasn't as rude as it seemed at that point, since Allegra and I were early arrivals, her only guests. Nor would we have to do much fending, either-the regular service staff was still there to cook and clean for us. That was fine with me, but I had a hunch that my aunt was somewhat disappointed in the welcome, having anticipated a bevy of naked slave girls at least, all bearing the brand of the whip-wielding mistress on their bare buttocks. Maybe I was even a little disappointed myself. The huge place did seem pretty desolate. Worse yet, the weather had turned rainy, precluding a dip in the gorgeous pool that I could see from my window.
But who could be glum in such luxury? I had a private room and bath all to myself, imagine, sharing only a sitting room with Allegra, all part of a suite in the west wing. Luxury indeed! Flamingo Towers apparently had more guest rooms than a city hotel. I did some unpacking and then took a leisurely but stimulating shower, gaining fresh courage and confidence under the needle-jet spray. I felt strong, daring, reckless, even heroic about embarking on this new adventure. Let the chips fall where they may!
Out of the shower, I unpacked and stowed away the rest of my stuff and then got conscientious enough to check and see if Allegra could use a helping hand. I didn't bother to primp, naturally, just slipping into a housecoat and pair of mules and patting a stray lock of hair into place. If she did need me-really need me-I'd probably be naked again in a few minutes. Why burden myself with makeup that would only get smeared between her legs? With no one else around, our relationship was still pretty much the same. Oh shit, it might stay that way even after the house filled up; maybe she would lay down the law and maintain the same complete custody no matter which bed we slept in. That would sure ruin this holiday for me. For both of us, really. Unless I could bolster my new-found confidence with enough bravado to become downright defiant. Uh-huh. Let the chips fall where they may?
Funny thing. Those goddam chips were already falling. Yeah. Stupid me! My aunt was in the sitting room, smiling that smug smile of hers, the one that looked like a sexless orgasm. Only she wasn't alone. There was a woman with her-a girl?-a tall blonde standing just inside the door. A blonde with big brown eyes.
"Oh good, you're just in time, dear, I was about to call you. Jody, this is Sabine. Sabine Devereaux. Second-in-command around here, according to our hostess. Knows all there is to know about what's what and who's who at Flamingo Towers. She's going to take you in hand and make sure you don't get caught with your pants down. Or wander into the wrong bedroom, you know? Well, something like that...." Allegra shrugged, adding a wink to the phony smile. "What do you say, Sabine? Now that you've seen my little brat...."
The big blonde nodded. Her crimsoned mouth curved slightly, not in a smile but in an expression of complacent assent. "Yes. Of course. I think I'll be able to take her in hand quite nicely."
And with those brown eyes boring into mine, taunting and challenging and yet somehow luring me into their depths, I felt my courage ebbing away. As if all my self-confident strength had suddenly dwindled down to nothing. My knees felt weak and I sat down shakily as the two of them went on chatting. Talking about me, obviously, but in terms that I couldn't quite understand. I listened but didn't hear. Or maybe I was just too overwhelmed to make sense out of what they were saying. Was I really being put in charge of this strange creature with the strange name?
An exotic name. Sabine Devereaux. Given the French pronunciation, too-Sah-beeen --although I didn't catch any trace of foreign accent in her voice. She was big, sure enough, with more than just a suspicion of muscle hiding under her clothes. Not mannish, though, in spite of her size. She wore slacks and a blouse, but the material of both was soft and feminine, and her handsome face was meticulously made-up. Even her stockingless feet were shod in chic high-heeled sandals that revealed the glossy lacquer of her toenails. All in all, she looked like a glamorous blonde fashion model dressed for a bit of at-home entertaining. Ash blonde, actually, on the light side.
But it was her eyes that dominated the vision, a deep brown with the texture of velvet. Tiny gold flecks glistened from their depths as the pupils darted from side to side, marvelously enhanced by mascara and painted shadows. I felt like a frump sitting there without a lick of makeup on. Especially when she sat down facing my aunt, showing no more than mild interest in me. I wondered if even that look she had thrown my way during our introduction might have been more imagined than real.
by then I was no longer the topic of their conversation. Allegra was probing a little, I realized, trying to find out about Hildegarde's maid, the one she had watched get whipped some years ago. But that must have been before Sabine's time, evidently, and she couldn't recall such a person. The mistress of the manor had another girl now, it seemed, someone named Fluff, also off to Palm Beach at the moment.
With her curiosity satisfied at least to some extent, Allegra stood up and stretched wearily and then left us to take a nap. The minute the door shut behind her, Sabine seemed quite different. As though she had just come out from behind a mask. Such a change! It made me relax, too, and I leaned back in my chair comfortably, not so prim and proper any more. I even relaxed enough to ask her what all that business about "taking me in hand" was supposed .to mean.
"Forget it, kiddo. Doesn't amount to a damn thing. I'm just a poor working girl myself. The housekeeper, more or less. Don't worry, I won't try to push you around."
"That's a relief. I get enough pushing around from her"-with a gesture toward the closed bedroom door-"and I'm worse off than any working girl, too. Just a poor relation, that's me."
"Tough shit, huh?"
I giggled. "You can say that again."
"Glad to. Tough shit."
We both giggled then and I could feel the cordiality thickening. She seemed more like a girl than a woman now, although I had already fixed her age at about twenty-five or so. Anyway, regardless of what my aunt might expect, I knew darn well that I had found a friend in Sabine Devereaux. It wasn't sexy or anything like that; we were more like a pair of schoolchums. Something of that sort might crop up eventually, of course, but there were simply no indications of it at this stage. Compared to her, I was still pretty frumpy in my housecoat and no makeup, but that didn't bother me any more.
She started telling me about Flamingo Towers, about how the place stayed comparatively empty except when a party was going on. Even the servants were all but invisible-women only, old crones who did the household chores and then disappeared completely, retiring to their own quarters in a remote part of the mansion. So it was only when party time came around that the joint began jumping. It got a bit wild then, since every guest had a room by herself and there was a constant shifting of bed-partners. Telephones ringing at all hours of the night, too; had I noticed the one in my room? That was Hildegarde Kohl's pride and joy, an internal phone system installed along with the new plumbing and electric wiring right after she had-bought the place-direct dialing to every room-all the conveniences, right?
Pausing in her description, Sabine lit a cigarette and hesitated and then grinned when I accepted her offer of one. We didn't say a word about it, but I took a drag and grinned back and it was like another link in this chain between us. After that, she went on with her speech while I slumped deeper into my chair and listened lazily, crossing my legs and letting my mind drift just a bit, less interested in the history of the place, the remodeling and such.
The housecoat had fallen away from my knees. Aware but uncaring, I let it hang. Funny, though, the way it looked when a leg was exposed; no matter how innocent the movement might be, there was always something sexy about it. I had to lean over to reach the nearest ashtray and that made the housecoat slip farther, revealing a goodly expanse of white flesh. It was sexy, all right, a damn fine leg, the kind of leg that any girl could be proud of. Hmm. That bunch of dames at the party-if and when it happened-wouldn't it be fun to dangle myself like this in front of all those hot lesbian eyes?
Sabine had stopped yacking suddenly. Talk about lesbian eyes! I sat up straight, closing the folds of the housecoat. A hot flush of embarrassment flooded my face. She was staring at me. Oh shit, it was too much, it wasn't supposed to happen like this! I could even see the tip of her tongue now; what ever happened to the nice chummy friendship we had going? Staring at me and licking her lips as if I was some tasty dessert....
"Jody?"
I couldn't speak. I just sat there like a dummy, holding on to the housecoat, unable to budge. While her body appeared to rise and float toward me slowly, almost casually-moving as if she was sauntering along upon a perfumed cloud. That did it. The scent reached me first, a warning of imminent danger, and at last I managed to stand up from my chair. I smelted her perfume and wondered why it seemed so strong all of a sudden, overpowering the smoke in the air,. Strong and sexy? Both cigarettes were gone now and I couldn't remember either of us getting rid of them.
"I-I'm kind of tired myself after that long trip." My words started out resolutely but ended up sounding tinny. "Maybe I ought to take a nap, too."
"Shit! After the way you've just been teasing me?"
"Teasing you? I-I didn't mean to." Now my expression turned arch, somehow. Almost coy, really, as if I had just detected some sexual significance in her remark. It must have been that look in her eyes. I just naturally responded to it, even against my better judgment. "Teasing you in what way?"
"That way. You're doing it right now. I've got a feeling you're daring me-and I'm taking you up on it, you hear? We've got to get this thing straightened out between us."
"Sounds interesting. Some other time, though."
"Hmph! Allegra was right, calling you a brat. I've got a good mind to...." Her voice petered out lamely.
"Yes?" I knew what she meant. But the strength was mine now and I had to go right on tormenting her. "How's that again?"
"Smart-ass little bitch. I ought to teach you a lesson."
"Sure. Why not? I probably need one. But like I said, some other time, huh?"
It was the wrong thing to say. The dare. The challenge. Definitely a mistake. She grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me. Actually shake me-like a rag doll! Her hands felt hot through the single layer of fabric. Strong fingers dug in painfully and yet somehow had spread wide in a kind of caress. As though her grip was part anger and part endearment. Only I didn't want either part. Not like this. Not so soon. Not with my aunt so close by.
"Sabine! Stop that! What are you-"
I got no further. Her lips swooped down and damned the flow of protest from my mouth. She quit shaking me and her hands went around my back. I regretted my smart-ass tactics now; oh hell, she was so big. Even after the fervor of her kiss slackened, I was barely able to gasp for air and renew my refusal.
"Please ... don't...."
"Shut up. Unless you'd rather scream? Go ahead, kid. Scream if you want to. Let's wake her up and start a scandal. No? There now, that's better. Nice and quiet, huh? Yeah. It figures. I know a hot little cunt when I see one."
"Oh! Must you-"
"Good tits, too, I'll bet. Not quite ripe yet, maybe."
My body tensed as one hand slid over my breasts, but I didn't try very hard to escape. It felt so sexy. And how could I put up a fight and make noise with Allegra just on the other side of that thin door?
"Not bad at all, baby. For a youngster, you've got a great pair of tits, you know? A little more meat on 'em...." Then, "Come on, relax now. Loosen up those pretty legs."
I had to. My legs spread apart all by themselves, my belly trembling to the touch that glided over it. My desperately clenched teeth couldn't stop me from moaning, either, as her fingers played around and then threaded through the tangled hair down there. I didn't want to feel like this. It was wrong, all wrong. But the woman simply towered over me, a huge hulk of muscle; what else could I do but let her have her way?
"Yeah. Now you're warming up. Mmm, nice and wet. I said I'd take you in hand, didn't I?"
"Nnnng ... oh...."
"You like that? A little frig-job turns you on, huh?"
"Frig me, frig me!"
"Feel my finger? That one?"
"Oooh!"
"How about it, kid, you like the way I fingerfuck?"
"Love it...."
"Yeah. It figures. Hot little cunt."
I shuddered in mute resignation, no longer capable of anything louder than a moan, my body sagging limply, opening itself wide to the ravaging hand. She was still talking with lurid gusto, the dirty words grating on my nerves and yet bringing added excitement, too. Maybe she was right, maybe I really was a hot little cunt. My flesh wriggled in rhythm to the stabbing fingertip, even though I kept trying to remain still to show her that my resistance hadn't been broken down. Betrayed by my own body; on, you hot little cunt! Struggling now to envelop that finger and suck it in completely, the finger, the other fingers, the whole hand!-and for the next few nightmarish minutes I lost all will of my own and became Sabine Devereaux's toy. Her plaything, a rag doll once again. She had fun with me, sounding deliriously happy, but I sure didn't feel like laughing myself. My sense of humor just wouldn't stretch that far. Not nearly as far as that big hand of hers seemed to be stretching my cunt.
3
The sky had quit weeping overnight but was still kind of gray the next morning, hardly weather for a swim. And once again I had Sabine to contend with. Although she didn't make herself obnoxious, really-no laying on of hands, thank heaven!-and was even rather cool toward me at times. Especially in the presence of my aunt. I noticed that right away, the character changing with the circumstances-just like an alert performer onstage.
Still I knew she wanted me. Actually wanted me. I recognized the desire in her eyes, the gold-flecked brown eyes that kept spilling secrets. And since she had already accused me of teasing her, I saw no reason not to continue with my game. Besides, I couldn't help acting up a little whenever she was around. Just to make her squirm, I struck sexy poses and-postures at every possible chance; oh shit, I just couldn't help it. My hips flounced and my neck arched and my eyelids fluttered almost spontaneously. It was as if some imp of mischief had taken possession, making-me torment her. Making me dare her.
And she knew it, too. Those eyes of hers went smoky with ardor, but there was a gleam of comprehension in their depths. Sabine was biding her time. Just you wait and see-that was what those silent sidelong glances were saying so eloquently-just wait, little one, my turn will come. I found her fascinating, admittedly, but it was the kind of fearful fascination that might have come from watching a tarantula asleep in the sun and wondering when it would attempt its next poisonous coup.
Later in the day I began to get bored just hanging around and doing-nothing. Allegra must have spotted it; anyway, she mentioned Hildegarde Kohl's private library and suggested that I spend a few pleasant hours there. It was kept locked most of the time, but Sabine had a key and would be glad to let me in. All of which sounded pretty dreary until I learned the reason for such care, and then I could scarcely contain my impatience. No whodunits, no science fiction, no biographies, no mail-order best sellers, no scholarly textbooks to overburden the adolescent brain-nothing so ordinary, not here in fantastic Flamingo Towers. Hah! I should have known. Our missing hostess was a collector of erotic literature.
I settled down for an entertaining afternoon. Even hot-eyed Sabine gave me no trouble, unlocking the door and going her own way, off to supervise the household staff, no doubt. So there I was, alone in the library-little me, imagine!-with unlimited access to volumes of printed pornography. In all my young life I hadn't read more than a dozen or so such things, mainly dog-eared paperbacks that were passed from hand to hand among the kids at school. And here, literally, there must have been hundreds at least, perhaps thousands, most of them in attractive and obviously expensive bindings.
Some library! Books -lined the walls, their musty odor giving the room an intellectual atmosphere. But there was nothing very intellectual about the books themselves, except maybe to a professor doing research in the field. The very first one I opened, strictly a random choice, made me gasp and catch my breath as a highly detailed illustration popped into view. Not the sort of picture I'd expect to run across anywhere, much less in a library. Enough to make even an old professor feel wicked! Hmm. Was that what a cuntlapping tongue really looked like?
It took me a while to get oriented, that was how much stuff there was to go through. I felt like a starving man at a banquet. Except that the subject matter stuck pretty close to home, offering only minor glimpses of male characters for the most part. And yet, somehow, in this mixed-up situation I was almost glad to stay tuned to that same predominant wavelength, glad to confine my sexual curiosity to this more immediate area. Dubious or not, it was still the same subject that had been on my mind for so long. With variations, of course.
Lesbians. Lesbians in love. Lesbians in conflict. Lesbians in all-girl schools, lesbians in dormitories, lesbians in sorority houses, lesbians in locker rooms, lesbians at summer camp. Married lesbians, legal or otherwise. Rich lesbians, poor lesbians, destitute lesbians with only one way out. Lesbian whores. Lesbian con artists. Lesbian shoplifters. Lesbians risking exposure as teachers and governesses. Lesbians behind bars, lesbians in reform school, lesbians in cells, lesbians under the jurisdiction of lesbian prison guards. And all too often-a recurrent theme!-lesbians involved in incest. How about that; you get the message, Aunt Allegra?
But digging in one direction only led to many others, opening up a whole new can of worms. There was so much else to try to understand, enough to make my head spin, a multitude of potential bypaths for every main road. Pain, degradation, bondage, fetishism, punishment, child discipline, humiliation and what-have-you-still stressing love between women only, but delving into perversion within perversion. Until at last I gave up scanning the shelves for information and began reading a few choice items purely for enjoyment, already determined to return here often throughout the rest of our stay at Flamingo Towers. Thus far, in view of the bad weather and empty house, only the scarlet birds on the roof matched the similarly scarlet charm of the library. All the more so, considering the unexpected novelty of it, a collection of dirty books in such a dignified, setting.
From then on, though, I wasn't exactly concerned with dignity. I checked the lock on the door first and then sat down again, undoing a few pertinent buttons and zippers. Not that there were many to undo, fortunately, for my faded denim shorts were brief and summery and easily loosened. I had worn tight panties underneath for protection-against Sabine, just in case!-but the moist crotch fabric was already soft and yielding, ready to be bunched over to one side. After that, well, who gave a damn about dignity?
I started reading anew, gaining empathy now. The scenes gripped me, especially the old-style sapphic love scenes, whetting my curiosity once more. Was that how they did it in those days? Really? Only I couldn't stop to answer such queries. If fiction was stranger than truth, I just didn't care. Every page, every paragraph-practically every sentence was a source of excitement. My thighs felt sticky, twisting and rubbing together in a convulsive motion, unimpeded by the loosely clinging shorts. The matching denim halter wasn't so comfortable, though, filled to overflowing by my swollen breasts, the nipples all hot and chafed. I could almost smell the perfume evoked by the printed words, an odor that accentuated delicate femininity and yet hinted of vice and corruption and all manner of dark debauchery.
The panty-crotch moved over quite nicely, not much of a protective shield at this point. Not to the right touch, anyway. My hand slid in, dipping out of sight, generating a tingle that erupted into a series of uncontrollable shivers. Such a deliciously lewd sensation, a flurry of fingers on my clitoris while I turned the pages and went on sympathizing with the poor downtrodden servant-girl who was tearfully sobbing and sucking the cunt of her imperious mistress! Sucking and learning to love it, naturally, the perfect ending for such an exquisitely wrought tale of crime and punishment. Perfect for me, too, as those busy fingers down there kept pace and prodded my aroused body over the brink, wrenching a duplicate real-life sob from my lips as I writhed feverishly in the pleasure-pain of this self-induced moment of tension and release. Ecstasy for all concerned! Although I was the only one who could vouch for its perfection....
I stayed in the library awhile longer, bent upon squeezing out more bits of educational information now. Not that I didn't get horny again, poring over the incredible complexities of lesbian sex. Or what purported to be lesbian sex, anyhow, even if some of the writers did tend to exaggerate the kinky angle somewhat. Perversion within perversion within perversion? Ad infinitum, no doubt-or so it seemed as I made the vicarious grand tour with one hand getting all dusty and the other remaining quite damp. It was another hour before. I readjusted my now-droopy panties and refastened the buttons and zippers of my shorts.
Even then, oddly enough, my departure was prompted by an outer force; it took a phenomenon of nature to tear me away from those loaded bookshelves. The sun came out! At four o'clock in the afternoon-still time for a swim-its rays pierced a thick cloud cover and three window blinds to turn the library into a roomful of musty old books again. Stirring me to action, of course; who could resist the lure of that kidney-shaped swimming pool?
I shut up shop in a hurry, anxious for my first plunge. And yet, despite such eagerness, I was extremely conscious of my running feud with Sabine. I wanted to tease her again, perhaps even more than ever now, tease her until she begged for my friendship. Wasn't that how a relationship between women usually developed, one dominant and the other submissive? The books sure said so. And my ego was still smarting from yesterday's degradation, something I understood a lot more clearly today.
My mind bubbled with erotic notions, already selecting the bikini I would wear, the yellow one that made me look almost demure. Well, demure for a bikini at least. Half woman, half girl, all sexpot. And let that be just the beginning, just the eye-catcher-like an advance declaration of intent. My nerves were singing battle hymns, a girding of loins that came from inside. Tease her, I thought, tease her, taunt her, flaunt your flesh in front of her eyes, flaunt your body until she knows only hunger....
In my room, the perverse impulse grew to overwhelming proportions, festering as I changed costume. I felt almost vindictive about it, already seething with the heat of my triumph. She might not take the bait, of course, she might even remain indoors and pretend to ignore me. But her eyes would be peeking out, fooling no one but herself, peeking from behind a curtain maybe and goggling at the fresh young body that would never again be wooed and won by violence.
Just a dab of makeup was all I needed for this foray; let the bikini do the rest. I didn't even take time to wash my somewhat messy after-climax vagina, figuring it would get rinsed clean in the pool anyway. And besides, I rather liked the feeling, the sexy implications of approaching this audaciously planned venture with an already passion-greased pussy. I just checked myself in the mirror and raced off to have fun.
There was nobody else outside yet, but that didn't slow me down. Even deserted as it was, the great blue-green pool looked absolutely glorious in the afternoon sunshine. I dove in and frisked about happily, glad to be receiving some of the advantages and benefits of a Florida vacation at last. After a while I rolled over and floated on my back, conscious of a kind of timeless tranquility out there under the sky, just floating and drifting like one of the puffy little white clouds overhead. And that was when I saw her, a sidelong glimpse first and then a fuller and more satisfying view as she raised her arm and waved to attract my attention. From the middle of the pool, I returned the greeting and then could only stare like an idiot, transfixed.
Funny. What had caught my eye first was the heels. High heels even at a swimming pool? Not very different from the others she had worn, just dainty sandals designed for summer, but now I couldn't help thinking the stilt-slim sexy things rather affected. Especially on a woman who was too tall to begin with. Although her height didn't appear so clearly defined until she shed the jacket draped around her shoulders and stood there on the concrete apron. Still in those darn heels; oh shit, she looked simply colossal!
Simply gorgeous, too, I had to admit. In her own oversized way, Sabine Devereaux was beautiful, a creature of sheer magnificence almost, every part of her body in perfect proportion. Out there in the bright daylight her beauty seemed to shine right along with the sun. A spark of undeniable excitement flickered to life within me, forcing my gaze to cling to that expanse of radiant flesh, naked except for the scantiest of white bikinis. Tanned to the sheen of burnished bronze, the smooth skin was positively breathtaking. But then, even the components under concealment, the jutting peaks of her bosom, decorously hidden and yet temptingly emphasized by the wispy bra-top, had a kind of hypnotic appeal for me.
No more than her legs, though. Long and sleek, firm and muscular, those legs were impossibly elegant. They belonged on the stage-or in Hollywood, perhaps; a million customers would have paid a fortune to see them. I felt almost elated by the idea that such superb items were included in the total package that could be mine if I so desired.
The thought was pretty weird. I winced in embarrassment, realizing how far astray my speculation had gone. Mine? Was I really interested in Sabine's legs? I had always looked upon attractive girls only as competition. Female bodies were meaningless-other than in the forced intimacy with Aunt Allegra, of course-except for the purpose of comparison with my own. So why should I see that sun-browned flesh and become aroused? Wasn't I even envious? Could such a sight change me so quickly?
Weird, sure enough-and deliciously provocative-but the thought was frightening, too. I couldn't just laugh in self-derision and put it out of my mind. The nearness of the woman was bound to keep me doing mental gymnastics until the problem got resolved. And if and when it ever happened, I knew damned well that the two of us would be cooperating, not competing. Hmm. Was the feud over, then? What had become of my plan to subjugate her?
Poised on the lip of the pool, Sabine slipped her shoes off and hit the water, her dive clean and athletic. Deep, though, and I wondered where she had disappeared to. I soon found out. A hand clutched my ankle and dragged me downward roguishly. I gulped a breath and then let myself sink; apparently we were both good swimmers, both quite at home beneath the surface. Only that hand began to slide up my leg, making me dizzy. This was a kind of cooperation I hadn't bargained for. At least not so soon!
I tried to squirm out of the powerful grasp, tugging and wriggling and yet recognizing that my coy struggle could only be futile. The big blonde was just too strong for me; what else could I do but succumb and cooperate? Anyway, at that point I felt a bit silly about my scheme to tease and taunt her, painfully conscious now of my own weakness and ineptitude. Compete with this? Not a chance.
She kissed me, the water still swirling over us. Our tongues entwined, her slippery fingers exploring my flesh. I got a little panicky then, alarmed by her dominance over me; was it going to be just like yesterday? Or even worse maybe-after all, just a twist of the wrist would be enough to snap the threads and separate me from my bikini. I could see myself floundering around naked, pitifully vulnerable to any attack she cared to launch.
But my panic proved to be groundless, thank heaven, and she was quite gentle with me. Our lungs gave out, ending the kiss and driving us to the surface. A few strokes carried us to the ladder; we stopped there, gasping breathlessly but just hanging on and making no effort to climb up and out As if we were both reluctant to quit now, aware that our game hadn't run its course yet.
She bent close, murmuring in my ear. "Don't look now, but I think we've got an audience."
"Oh? Where?"
"Turn slowly. The window near yours. See her?"
It took me a moment. Then I spotted the curtain moving and knew she was right. A peeker, sure enough-dear old Aunt Allegra checking up on her property! I flushed angrily and then quelled my rising wrath, choosing instead to treat her presence with scorn. Let the nosy old hag goggle until her eyeballs popped out of their sockets; why should it matter to me?
"Uh-huh. I see her."
"You mind?"
"Well, if that's all she's got to do...." I shrugged. "Maybe we ought to put on a show for her, huh?"
"No. Keep it cool, give her a hard time. Let's put on a show strictly for ourselves." Sabine's tongue flicked my earlobe. "Know what I mean?"
Her warm breath was still tickling my ear, further persuasion in case I needed any. I giggled and kind of cozied up to her and then we both cuddled playfully under the water, only our heads above the surface. Her fingers crawled up my thigh, probing delicately but with a certain pressure. "Oooh ... don't...."
"Nice and soft, huh? Even my hand. Feel it? Underwater like this, fingers are almost as soft as tongues."
My knees were already parting. But in a stew of last-ditch resistance, I stiffened and locked them shut, trying to crush the invasion right there between my legs. The pressure only increased, though, continuing the forceful upward thrust. Until I could protest no longer, feeling myself melt even in the chill of the water, giving way as the bold hand moved inexorably. Toward its goal. Toward the exact center of my silently shrieking sensitivity.
Fingers foraged, seeking entry beneath the tight-fitting edge of the fabric. Seeking and finding. And at last discovering secrets that were surely never meant to be investigated with such flagrant disregard for propriety. Disregard for me "Hey! You're real slick down there. Hot to trot, huh?"
Her guess wasn't quite accurate, whatever made me seem slick was a leftover from the library-but I didn't bother to say so and perhaps puncture her pride. Anyway, why risk getting into a hassle when that relentless hand wouldn't even let me think? I steeled myself, my mind if not my body, hoping to attain at least some small degree of rationality. If there was a grain of sense left in my head, I would just slap this overbearing lezzie's face and struggle up the ladder to safety. How dare she take me for granted like that!
But even as my brain groped desperately for crystal-clear sanity, it made more sense to recognize and accept the simple truth, muddied and murky as that might be. The accomplished fact, as it were. I had already fallen under Sabine's spell. Not in spite of her boldness but because of it. An insane reason! But glaringly true nonetheless, even though I didn't understand why-and what else could a weak little girl do but admit her weakness? I was ready to capitulate.
"Kid? Feel it now? My finger...."
"Uh-huh. Like you said. Soft as a tongue."
"No. Almost as soft-that's what I said, remember? There's no substitute for the real thing. You'll see, just wait...." Then, up close, her breath hot in my ear once again, "Hey, she's still watching, you know? Allegra. Still at it, the same window. I wonder if the old broad knows what she's missing. This, for instance...." The finger churned below, the tongue-tip suddenly active above, prodding deep to set my eardrum aquiver. "And thisss ... "
"Oooh!"
"Hmm?"
"Never mind Allegra." I giggled coquettishly. "Now you've got me wondering what I'm missing."
4
There was a moment of hesitation, and I had a giddy qualm at the thought of Sabine ducking her head right then and there to prove her point. An underwater demonstration of the superiority of tongue over finger! But she just grinned and started using her hand again, casting another glance at our Peeping Thomasina behind the upstairs window curtains. I breathed a sigh of relief-with what breath there was in me-happy to be rid of the vaguely hysterical vision of my three-cornered bit of yellow bikini floating loose. And me left with nothing but a frizzle of chewed-up black fur to hide my shame....
Anyway, her fingers were doing just fine, poking around and pinching a little, molding my flesh at will. Her touch seemed more like a command than a caress. And yet I found myself enjoying that too, the idea of being handled so authoritatively, an excitement that was turning me into an utterly entranced victim. Insane reasoning again, no doubt, but I had already capitulated. And maybe it wasn't so insane either, maybe there was more to it than just the surprise element, the sheer novelty of the situation. In her own forthright manner, this big blonde bitch-goddess had made me understand that she wanted me. As a lover. As a lesbian wants a lesbian. Or-more accurately, if less admirable-as an experienced woman might want an innocent young girl. So what was I supposed to do, defy her? Argue with her over right of possession?
Fat chance. Go argue with the Green Bay Packers! Even with my "dumb" reputation, I knew better. My aggressive buddy Sabine was a natural born quarterback who just naturally had to call the signals. Let well enough alone, I figured. Which showed pretty good judgment, considering how nicely our rendezvous at the ladder appeared to be progressing. Not like yesterday, no force, no violence-not even rough, really, except for the scrape of a sharp fingernail across my acutely sensitive clitoris every so often, probably the kind of thing that only a skilled and sophisticated lesbian would know about, a lover alert to the intricacies of the female body. It gave me chills and fever every time, that pointed nail of hers drawing such a fine line of distinction between pleasure and pain. But aside from that, well, she was practically pampering my lucky little pussy. I sure had no cause for complaint. Not as long as my overstuffed bikini bottom didn't rebel and bust open.
"Jody? Don't you wish that was my tongue down there?"
"I-I love just what you're doing."
"This?"
"Mmm ... like a wriggly little fish...."
"Yeah? Hmm. Yeah, that's me." She chuckled, her free arm tightening our somewhat precarious embrace. "I'm a cuntfish, if ever there was one."
"Cuntfish. Ugh. What a thing to say!"
"Prissy, prissy."
"No. I'm not! But calling yourself a cuntfish...."
"It's still prissy. But that's okay, baby doll, the shy type is appealing to an old cuntfish like me. Hang on to your innocence. I'll do all the cussin' for the family. That's another little talent of mine. If you can call it that."
"Talent? Oh...."
"Uh-huh. I've got a talented tongue. I'll lap your cunt and whisper sweet nothings at the same time. Well, maybe not so sweet." Smiling lewdly, she licked her lips to a glistening luster, unfurling a long length of pink from inside her mouth. "I mean with a tongue like this...." Another bold flash of pink; then, "You've got to take the bitter with the better, right?"
"I-I don't understand."
"Kid, a tongue like mine is for sex, not romance. No hearts and flowers, no poetry, no pretty speeches. Just sex. Hot sex, the hotter the better. But that's no hardship when it's got something to get hot about. Like a nice hot little cunt, you know?"
"Oh. You mean me."
"Who else? I don't mean our chaperon up there. Fatso with the big eyes and bigger butt. You think my tongue could drool over an old bag like that? No, thanks. And you saw it drooling, didn't you?
Here, take another look. All for you, sweetie. Hot lips, hot mouth, hot tongue-all for that hot little cunt of yours; how does that grab you, huh? You thinking about my talented tongue, wondering how it'll feel? Big fat tongue licking your clit, nice and soft first and then getting hard, nice and stiff-great big thick tongue fucking this cute little cunt ... "
"Sabine!"
"You making it? Big one on the way?"
"Nnnng. Fuck me. Fuck me! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck...."
"Easy, now. Just play it cool. Big eyes up there in the window, remember? Easy does it. Yeah. Hot little cunt. Well have to settle for a fingerfuck, but you'd better be thinking about my big fat tongue, you hear?"
I shuddered. Just listening to her was enough to send me into a spin. But the shudder bespoke passion, not distaste, and once again the melting sensation overwhelmed me, opening my body wide to the marauding fingers. Dancing fingers. A thousand fingertips dancing inside me, dancing and skipping and skating around cleverly inside my cunt; oh, so clever! Sabine Devereaux. All that cleverness and cunning in the guise of a voluptuous female animal. She had what it took to turn me on. The touch. The technique. The surplus sensuality spilled over and that saturated the world around her, making it her world. Me too now, spinning on the axis of her finger. And wallowing in the smut that spewed from her tongue, the talented tongue that could fuck and suck and probably even talk a hot little cunt into a climax. Right under those spying eyes, too, adding a few new guilty tremors to the old lesbian guilt. Oh, I felt so wicked! Hanging on to the ladder and exploding in orgasm, a maelstrom of erotic lust below the surface. And biting my lips to keep from screaming aloud in the last rays of the setting sun above. Face to face with my lover in the darkening twilight and not even daring to kiss....
Later that night, the new guilt took on extra significance as Allegra went out of her way to be especially sweet to me at dinner and then even sweeter afterward. It made me feel contrite, at least, if not exactly stricken with remorse, about my sneaky stunt in the pool. Anyway, I had neglected her long enough and decided to make up for it, earning my bread and butter in the usual manner. Practically volunteering, too, as it turned out, since she seemed quite indulgent and somewhat less than demanding of my services. I actually had to woo her a little, continuing on in that vein even after she gave her approval and invited me into her bed.
Even there, putting on my performance between her limp thighs, I sensed a certain languor, an indifference, almost a kind of reluctance in her physical responses. I persevered mightily, though, and at last appeared to be getting through to her. She sighed once or twice and then I felt her fingers entwining in my hair lingeringly, a delicate tenure that soon became a shade peremptory. Her heavy hips stirred lazily, undulating in a slow but sensuous rhythm that I adjusted to with practiced ease-and with a touch of relief too, admittedly, now that the signs had grown more recognizable.
Fine, then. It was over-or nearly so, at any rate-whatever it was that had complicated my self-imposed task. I sucked with renewed confidence, burrowing into the slippery wet folds and creases of her cunt. My tongue lapped industriously, tarrying only when I switched tactics now and then to purse and tighten my lips around the vestigial but promising nub of her clitoris. Until, with a guttural groan of abandonment-better late than never!-she flexed and widened her knees eagerly, a token of total surrender.
In control now, I paused and raised my head for a moment, taking a final breather before going into the homestretch. She looked pretty wild, ready for anything I could dish out. A drop of sweat glistened like a jewel in her navel. Her eyes were shut and her mouth open, the glow of passion turning her face quite beautiful. And there was a noticeable oscillation in the area of her loins, almost a turbulence, almost as if her orgasm had already begun-an obviously unconscious movement that minimized the lumps and bumps and transformed her plump body into something quite erotic....
"Hey! Jody? Don't quit now." Then, heaving her hairy bush up into my face, "Come on, you little cuntlapper, what the hell are you waiting for? You asked for this, didn't you? Okay, now finish what you started. I said now, you hear? Eat me! Suck me, suck my cunt, suck me till I cream all over that hot mouth of yours. Hot little cuntlapping mouth...."
The burst of gutter-talk shocked me, numbing my mind even as it stung me to action; after all, I had never heard her use that kind of language before. Bewildered momentarily, I plunged my face back into the gaping maw of flesh and tried to grasp this new and unexpected development from there. Only it didn't take any great genius to figure out where she had picked up the habit. Or when she had picked it up, either-wasn't that the ulterior motive, her real reason for getting me interested in the library this afternoon? Oh shit, no wonder I had trouble turning her on tonight; she sure hadn't been neglected during my absence today!
But it was no skin off my ass, of course, and I just went right ahead and sucked her to a climax. Like an obedient little cuntlapper, the hot little cuntlapper that I was supposed to be. Which wasn't so far from the truth really, considering how quickly and easily I managed to bring it about. For both of us, natch. With my hot little cuntlapping mouth for Aunt Allegra. And a hot little cuntfucking hand for myself. Only it wasn't quite so cut-and-dried exactly, not when that vision came to life and startled me, flashing out of the darkness of her cunt at the instant of orgasm-the vision of a big blonde bitch goddess in a teeny-weeny white bikini....
Our hostess and her maid returned next day. Although I could only assume such a relationship based on hearsay, since there was no sign of Fluffs lowly status in her dress or deportment. She just didn't look like a servant. Especially out at the swimming pool, where I finally got a close-up view.
The afternoon was hot, ample excuse for a gathering of the group at poolside. Still a rather small group, five in all, hardly a respectable nucleus for the often mentioned but seldom discussed "party" that seemed so imminent. That was fine with me, though, giving us a chance to get better acquainted before the others arrived-somewhere between a covey and a congregation in number, according to whoever's guess sounded the least like guesswork. Besides, it was kind of an honor to be there ahead of the rush, it made me feel like one of the insiders, somebody important.
I felt welcome, too, greeted cordially and without any phony fuss by our hostess. Hildegarde Kohl was thin and wiry, no great beauty but remarkably well-preserved for her age, still endowed with enough firm-fleshed padding to keep a bikini safely stretched if not quite glamorously stuffed. She had nice brown hair and bright eyes, sharp eyes the color of cinnamon, definitely a clue to her wry wit and forceful personality. Even when uttering a command, she had the gift of making it sound like a whimsically worded opinion-and with no loss of authority, somehow. Nor did she look like the type of woman who went around whipping slaves! In fact, the only thing odd about her was that same affectation as Sabine's-now both of them were wearing those summery high heels, so incongruous at a swimming pool; some sort of local custom, maybe?
But it was little Fluff who attracted my gaze most often. There was a creamy softness about her, a merging of smooth curves that simply demanded attention. She must have been my or thereabouts, and yet I felt old and world-weary by comparison-the darling golden-haired creature was so angelic. In her daringly cut bikini, she looked like a child imitating the grownups. Playing make-believe, perhaps. Only there was nothing make-believe about that pouting bosom and jutting backside and lovely pair of legs. A beautiful little thing, really, a girl with instant appeal.
Upon closer inspection, of course, I did notice a few minor imperfections; what person doesn't have some? Her lips were almost too full, hinting of an excess of sensuality. And there were moments when the emerald green of her wide-set eyes lost warmth and seemed to go glassy. Then too, even her body couldn't be judged perfect by classic standards; it was short and small-boned, but with a relatively broad pelvic structure and remarkably chubby buttocks-appealingly cute rather than classically beautiful. But she was aptly named nonetheless, a delectable bundle of fluff. The kind of kid who would have been real competition for me back in school.
And still I couldn't tell what her exact status was. Except for one repeated bit of action that might or might not have been a gauge to go by. Every now and then, as the sun grew hotter, Hildegarde slipped out of her shoes and dove into the water to cool off. And the minute she climbed out, they were ready for her. She didn't even have to stoop down to put them on. Oh no, as soon as she relaxed in her canvas deck chair, Fluff wiped her feet dry with a towel and then replaced those high-heeled sandals with infinite care.
Infinitely loving care, it seemed like-not at all like a hired maid doing her duty-so I just couldn't make up my mind. Anyway, the sight of it began to irritate me after a while. Whatever the relations it just didn't seem right that a rich old woman should expect and receive such attention from a poor young girl. But they both appeared contented with the setup-and besides, it wasn't any business of mine.
Sabine, now-that was my business. I watched her swimming back and forth across the pool, doing the turns like an Olympic champion. Just keeping in shape, no doubt. A true athlete. Only it wasn't her athletic ability that occupied my mind. I could almost feel the smooth palm of her hand sliding down over my belly. Long fingers curling between my thighs, curling up into me and digging deep. Taking possession. Like the tongue-tip in my ear, taking possession and making me shiver and gasp-hot little cunt!-would I ever really experience all those whispered thrills, the thrill of her talented tongue? Oh shit, I was getting horny just thinking about it. Right out here in broad daylight, too. A little more of this and I'd be having one hell of an embarrassing accident.
I quelled my thoughts and tore my gaze away in time to see Fluff vanishing into the house, empty glasses in her hand. Off to fix some fresh drinks, apparently. Then, a moment later, I saw Hildegarde wiping her brow, a gesture brought on by the sun's heat. She kicked her shoes off and stood up, stretching sinuously and then stepping forward to plunge into the pool. I watched her, wondering if she would deliberately stay in until her little "shoe girl" returned to the scene. Of course. That would save face all around.
She didn't, though, despite my expectations. Instead, she took only her usual short dip and came right out. Dripping wet, she sank down into her lounge chair, seemingly unconcerned about such trivial details. And no wonder! Once again she didn't have to put on her own shoes.
Allegra did it for her this time.
Yes-my Aunt Allegra. Bending and kneeling and going through the same motions that Fluff had. But awkwardly, in a way, not nearly with the same grace. While up above her, Hildegarde relaxed and leaned back indolently, a faint smile on her lips.
5
That night after dinner the old servants disappeared as usual and we all sat around in one conversational corner of the spacious downstairs living room. All but little Fluff, who was gone for a short while and then came in looking quite different. The modish frock she had worn during dinner had been changed for an outfit that seemed almost theatrical. Now she was dressed in a maid's costume patterned on the French soubrette type but far more revealing. A working costume, as it turned out-she served after-dinner drinks to everyone, even a glass of syrupy cordial for me.
The conversation sounded quite commonplace. But even so, the atmosphere was suffused with erotic sensation, thickened by the constant presence of the lovely little creature moving around in her alluring garb. The skirt was scandalously brief and the pencil-slim ultra-high heels made her shapely legs look incredibly long. And as the small-talk continued, I paid only cursory heed and kept trying to figure out if those clothes meant that she really was just a servant in the house. More personal, perhaps-obviously!-but hired help nevertheless.
Again, though, I found it difficult to decide, puzzled by the shifting moods that seemed to come over her. Obsequious one moment, pert and saucy the next-but always conscious of the benignly watchful eye of her mistress. Then too, it soon became evident that the kid wasn't used to her outfit, plucking at the frills and seams and hemline with nervous fingers every so often. More conspicuous yet, her ankles wobbled somewhat unsteadily as those tapered heels dug into the plushy-soft carpet, putting a certain uneasy strain on her naturally graceful carriage. Until it reached the stage where even Allegra noticed and spoke out in sympathy.
"Poor baby. Those heels...."
Hildegarde smirked. "They're new. But she'll learn."
"I suppose so. But aren't you being cruel? The poor dear is liable to fall on her pretty face."
"So? She'll just get up again. For that matter, what's wrong with a little cruelty? It can be exciting, you know."
"Oh...." Allegra perked up, visibly intrigued. "But that sounds so terribly ... well ... perverted, I guess."
"Perverted indeed. I should hope so. Otherwise I'd be bored to tears. When one treads the tried and true path to the point of tedium, what else is left but perversion?"
"Hildegarde, you can't be serious. Besides, it was just a manner of speaking-I certainly didn't mean to imply that you were a pervert."
"But I am, my dear. A pervert without peer, irrational but never inaccurate. I do have a definite grasp of the subject. As that bygone motion picture mogul used to say-I may not always be right, but I'm never wrong. Only my subject isn't motion pictures."
Sabine came alive, chuckling. "How you talk! I just love listening to you. But tell her about it, huh? You've even got little Jody interested now. Right, kiddo?"
"Uh-huh. A pervert without peer. Oh wow...." I was glad to be singled out for consideration. "I'd sure like to hear more. Especially the stuff you can't get in school."
"Hmm. Good girl." Hildegarde grinned. "Spoken like a red-blooded American juvenile delinquent, you sweet child. With an attitude like that, you'll go far in this world. You might even go far right here in Flamingo Towers. All right then, if that's your pleasure, the stuff you can't get in school. I'll expound freely. But first, do sit down, Fluff-before you fall down, hmm?"
Everybody got settled and then our intellectual hostess opened up, launching into a discourse that started out as philosophy but soon veered toward sex. Domination was the theme, Lie dominance of one human over another, but with each succeeding step of her argument the broadly philosophical view seemed to narrow down to something more intimate. In her own words, "amorous activity in the boudoir." And in that same unintentional manner, somehow the human relationship always became a thing involving only the female of the species. A kind of shadowy thing, though, never clearly defined.
I listened spellbound, engrossed in the subject matter and charmed by her flashes of droll wit-although I did find myself wishing she would get to the heart of it and tell us just how one lesbian went about beating the shit out of another. As it was, she wouldn't even describe a domination scene except in those brilliant but exasperatingly vague phrases. The woman was simply floating away in the wash of her own rhetoric. But with style, I had to admit-oh yes, if nothing else, Hildegarde Kohl sure had style.
My absorption slackened momentarily. I shifted in my seat fitfully, becoming gradually aware of a sneaky but not quite secret glance aimed in my direction. Someone else's attention seemed to be wandering-and delightfully, too, as those green eyes glowed in recognition of my returned interest. Emerald-green eyes appraising me, running over my body, taking in the swell of my breasts and the flare of my hips and the twisted length of my legs-all in a near covert scrutiny that I could almost feel down deep inside. While she herself sat there so prim and innocent in that lasciviously snug maid's uniform, a slow smile creeping over her features. As if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Fluff. Was that foxy look of hers intended as a challenge or a come-on?
Hildegarde was waxing ever more eloquent now-"irrational to the point of idiocy, but never less than frank"-zeroing in at last on the relationship that had touched off the discussion.
Not as frankly as I'd hoped for, of course, but with enough intimate soul-baring to make me listen wholeheartedly once more. I was soon spellbound again, too, but at the same time just a bit horrified by all this warped wisdom striking so close to present company now. A brand-new impression of our hostess was beginning to form in my mind. Still salted with pleasantries, her words had somehow managed to convey the thought that this was her home-or her castle, rather-and in it she reigned supreme. An absolute monarch. The sole and complete owner of the estate and everything within its confines.
Everything? Including me?
Well, no, she wasn't delving into that angle at all. And yet my supposition was substantially correct, I realized, the woman actually felt as if she did own the world-or at least the segment of it in which our separate Uvea were mingling. Fluff, then, was basically just a piece of property, and if the mistress of the manor chose to dress her in an uncomfortable costume it was only by right of ownership, all quite natural.
"You see, my dears, she has been trained to please me-and has accepted that status without question. Such a relationship exists only because the two parties are in agreement to make it so. No coercion necessary."
Allegra shook her head. "It still sounds pretty specious. Fluff may be stuck with the agreement now, but that doesn't mean it was her belief from the very start. Isn't it possible that you merely imposed your will upon her and then other incentives-like money, let's say-caused her to submit?"
"Quite possible, yes. But then it's also possible that her inherent tendency toward submission actually craved the guidance of a stronger and superior will. The little darling looks up to me because she needs to. It's her nature. If we hadn't gotten together, she would have found someone else with my kind of strength and power, someone in whose hands she could entrust herself."
"Oh. I-I guess that makes her your slave, huh?"
My stomach felt queasy. It was too much, sitting around like this with the poor kid listening to all that garbage about herself, a slave, imagine! I wondered why she wasn't in tears. Or maybe she was by now, I hadn't dared look at her since that "ownership" business came up so specifically; why embarrass her even more?
I had to now, though. Embarrassing or not, the urge to sneak a peek was simply irresistible-just a quick peek at that lovely face, blushing or crying or whatever. Besides, maybe I could catch her eye and telegraph a little sympathetic encouragement. Show her whose side I was on. Now! Before she got plastered with that shitty "slave" label....
Stomach still fluttery, I turned ever so slightly and rolled my eyeballs over for a sidelong glance. I was glad then, glad to stifle my curiosity before it pushed me into doing something more drastic and making a fool of myself. Because one look was all I needed to calm me down. One look at that cute babyface, serious and serene in the same expression. As if it really didn't matter! Except for that slow smile again, or at least the hint of one, just as my eyes met hers. That mattered. Anyway, it all seemed pretty transparent now, some sort of game between the two of them-the fiendish mistress and her angelic maid entertaining the dumb guests. No wonder Sabine had dropped out after sticking in her two cents' worth of enthusiasm to get the show on the road. Maybe the three of them rehearsed it on rainy afternoons, almost as much fun as sucking and fucking and such-lesbian style, of course, for women only; wasn't that what made Flamingo Towers flourish? Uh-huh. All tongues and cunts. If nothing else, our hostess did have style, the old dyke. Which was more than I could say for the guests, the way my Aunt Allegra was still hanging on and waiting for an answer. Squirming. Jerking herself off mentally, no doubt-all atwitter about the beautiful young slave girl who couldn't even walk without wobbling. A story to dazzle her next "niece" with, probably, in the years to come.
"Slave...." Hildegarde sighed happily. "Such a sexy word, so sensual, such erotic connotations. But that's one question too many, my dear, school's over for today. Or rather the stuff you can't get in school, eh?" She chortled, obviously pleased with herself. "Still, I shouldn't have quit in midstream like that, every lecture should end on an upbeat. Hmm. Something dramatic, preferably. In a chemistry class, for instance, we might blow the lab up." Then, abruptly, "Come here, Fluff. I may need a little help."
The kid scrambled upright and came running, teetering on those high heels, no longer pert or saucy or serene. Serious now. Extremely serious. She stopped short at the designated spot, swaying for a breathlessly precarious moment and then standing in place with legs together and arms at her sides, the last trace of visible motion and emotion fading from her demeanor. Her body was erect now, with only a slight forward tilt to her head-like a bow in the making, an indication of respect and readiness. "Miz Hildegarde?"
"I do think there's a spot of dust on my shoe."
"Dust? Yes'm. Uh, shall I get a hanky and-"
"No, dear. Use your tongue."
"Oh. Of course. I should have thought of that myself. Will you forgive me?"
"Just go to work now, we'll talk about forgiveness later. When we're alone. Or perhaps we ought to add a few up and discuss them at the same time. Get it all thrashed out, hmm?"
A tiny whimper sounded as Fluff sank to her knees. She moved swiftly enough, lowering her head all the way down, but not before I got a good look at her face. I wanted to see that secret smile again, even just a flicker of it, anything to make me feel like an insider in their game and not just another goggle-eyed guest like my aunt over there. Only I saw nothing of the kind; instead there was something that turned me tense with shock, utterly fantastic, a secret beyond my scope! I had never seen the kid blush before. Even with all that talk going on about her a while ago, she hadn't changed color. But I could have sworn there was a rosy tint in her cheeks during that crumpling movement. First the whimper and then a blush; what could have caused it?
I craned my neck, hoping for another view but seeing only a busy little maidservant with her head low and her rump high. A rather large rump for such a small girl, quite noticeable from where I sat, a chubby panty-clad bottom that jutted up and out beyond the hem of her skirt. Almost as though she was doing it deliberately. But no, it was probably just to get her head down. And to keep that pink tongue licking the leather, swabbing it clean of every invisible speck of dust, nonexistent dust in the first place, more than -likely. But that was all now, no blushing pink face....
"Ma'm? I-I believe it's done." Fluff peered upward. "Will that be all? Or is there anything else I can do for you?"
"You did fine, my dear. I'm very pleased."
"Thank you."
Hildegarde stroked the golden hair. "Hmm. I'm almost tempted to be a bit more forgiving...." Then, sternly, "No, I'll just have to harden my heart, you little imp-no time to be getting slipshod and forming bad habits, eh? No indeed, my dear. I'm sure we'll have plenty to thrash out between us."
"Yes'm. You always do what's right."
I froze at the sight. Once again the kid was bending low, all the way down. And was that a blush on her cheek? It was too late to tell; she was already down there, the tip of her tongue snaking out even more eagerly this time. Or was that just a trick of my imagination? So weird! She had licked shoe leather under orders, odd enough in itself even if only a put-on show. But now-without any command!-she was doing it again, crawling around almost under the chair, practically, moving around on her hands and knees and ducking even lower to pass her tongue over the backs of the heels. Why? Did the little doll enjoy such humiliation? Had she become that much of a slave? Lapping the leather like that with her ass stuck up and wiggling excitedly....
Oh shit, how simple! I must have been stupid not to catch on right away. So they had a lot to thrash out between them; that would make her ass wiggle, sure as hell. It wasn't exactly unheard-of even to an inexperienced youngster like me. Punishment for the sake of pleasure! So the extra shoe-swabbing was just a token of gratitude, another sign of respect and readiness, what else?
"You see?" Hildegarde sat upright in a majestic pose as the crouched figure carried on at her feet. "It's in her nature to begin with." She smiled complacently, a picture of triumph. "And then, well, with a little training...."
6
Shortly afterward, I excused myself and went to my room, hopeful of sleeping off the doubts and fears that had begun to plague me. It was all so unreal-this place, these people, the vaguely defined relationships that never quite made sense-unreal and somehow becoming more and more ominous. As though I had been plunked down in the middle of a mystery, a participating character without my consent.
That scene downstairs had shaken me up. I didn't realize how much tension was building up inside me until it was over. Watching the thing so closely, seeing it right under my nose practically, had affected my mind. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or scream, a kind of hysteria almost. And in spite of my natural and certainly normal curiosity, I just didn't want to be around for whatever might come next. Although I wasn't at all sure that anything in the same vein would be coming, of course.
Anyway, I was content to be alone awhile, mulling the situation over behind the locked door of my bedroom. Not that it helped much, except to calm me down a little; how could I reach any conclusion without a few pertinent facts to go on? I'd just have to start asking some questions, snoopy as it might seem. Sabine, logically, would be my best bet, even though I disliked the idea of looking like an overly curious child in her eyes. Oh well, maybe a good night's sleep would give me a fresh perspective....
Then, as if the thought had provoked the action, my phone rang and her now-familiar voice floated over the wire. A throaty voice, penetrating my body to the core. Would I like some company tonight? Not right now, but she might be able to slip away later-after getting the others organized.
"Organized? Sabine, what do you mean?"
"Threesome."
"Oh...."
"Silly girl. What else would three cunt-crazy broads be doing for entertainment? Sex, kiddo. Sure beats night baseball."
"And you're organizing them?"
"I'm helping, let's say. Just so I can come and pay you a cozy visit, how about that? Oh, I'm such a devil."
"You really are. A devil. I believe it. I-I think I'm a little bit afraid of you."
"Afraid of me? Jody baby, you shouldn't be. But if it's only a little bit, I won't mind. Hmm. I might even like that-just as long as it doesn't stand in the way of our getting together." Her tone was strong, vibrant, pointedly emphatic. All the implications of a command; kind of scary, sure enough But then she went mellow, a whispered entreaty "Darling? Please? You will stay up and wait for me, won't you?"
"Uh-huh. I'll be up."
"Sweet pussycat. Gotta go now, gotta start organizing. The quicker the sooner, right? See you later. Meanwhile here's a kiss to hold you till then You know where."
A smacking noise sounded, turning the telephone into a thing of sensuality. It made my flesh quiver deliciously. I could actually feel her mouth on me, the unerring mouth that had yet to place its kiss there. There. Every nerve in my body was tingling, a heavenly sensation that consigned all doubt and fear to purgatory, leaving only a wistful impatience.
So once again I had to calm myself down, but for an entirely different reason this time. I dawdled around, making a pretense of setting my room in order, too taut with anticipation to stretch out and relax. Perspiring a little, even-enough to give me an excuse to take another shower, my third today and I stripped and got under the cleansing spray, careful to keep my caught-up topknot of hair from getting drenched.
It felt pretty good. Especially when I turned the pressure on full blast to rinse off, bringing an extra surge of response from my already aroused nipples. I revolved slowly and let the needle-sharp spatter hit my back, shuddering as an exquisite trickle of liquid heat teased the crack between my buttocks. That was okay, no danger of overdoing it in those places, and I performed a few more happy rotations to preserve the hot feeling. Hot tits. Hot ass. With only fringe benefits for my cunt, though, the one place that was damn near overdone almost before I began. I just hoped it would keep until tongue-time.
Anyway, I must have splashed around for quite a while before my ears picked up the thumping sound from outside. Or at least before it got loud enough to reach my sex-drunk mind and really register. Alarmed, I shut the water off and listened. Oh shit, wouldn't you know! Somebody was banging on the locked door out there, a very exasperated somebody, no doubt.
"Jody? Are you in there? Can't you hear me?"
Foolish question. I raised my voice. "Okay, okay. Wait a minute, I'll be right out."
In a panic of confusion, I reached for my robe and then remembered that it was still hanging in the closet. I had no idea how long Sabine had been waiting; it might have been from the moment I turned the full pressure on. She sure sounded peeved. Taking time to paw through the closet would only have added insult to injury. So I did the next best thing, wrapping a bath towel around my soaked body and racing out to unlock the door.
"Well! I thought you'd never get here."
"Sorry. I was in the shower."
She stepped across the threshold and stood facing me, nudging the door shut behind her with one hand. It swung into its frame with an audible, satisfying click, locking automatically. Her anger-if such it had been-must have faded in a hurry; only desire gleamed from the depths of those slitted eyes.
"Beautiful...." The word emerged in a throaty murmur. "Most beautiful little doll I ever saw."
"I-I'm dripping wet."
My tone sounded shaky, almost tinny. Not that I was lying, of course. Droplets of moisture ran down my skin, some even coming from the half-undone topknot of hair on my head, a consequence of my careless rapture under the shower. But I had spoken the inane phrase only to fill the breach until my mind could function with some degree of facility. Which might take days at the rate I was recovering from my stupor.
I stood there shivering-not cold, just shivering-sensing her desire almost tangibly. She was wearing a robe that hung right down to the floor, voluminous around the legs but snug up above. Not sheer, though, no peek-a-boo boudoir creation. The wine-red fabric was thick and opaque, sexy only in the way that it hugged the curves of her breasts and hips. But even if just a guess, I'd have been willing to bet she had nothing on underneath. Not a stitch. Except for the things on her feet-mules, they looked like-peeping out from below the flared hem.
Could a woman be sexier than sexy? Sabine's lust had already become mine, bridging the space between us to spread through my trembling flesh like some fiery contagion. The thrill of being wanted, that was it-a backlash of excitement, somehow-one thrill generating another. What I saw in those glistening gold-flecked eyes reached out and swathed me in a cloak of passion, invisible but far from intangible; why else would I be shivering in such heat?
She licked her lips and inched closer. My gaze focused on her tongue. I knew she was going to kiss me. Right on the mouth, a kiss begun under water and left unfinished above. Time to finish it now, standing right here face to face, not even waiting long enough to get to the bed.
I tilted my head, still not functioning any too well, but eager to meet my lesbian lover halfway. My lips parted for her tongue. It entered slowly, wedging the opening wider, strong and hot and huge in my mouth-that big?-living up to its advance notices, certainly. Almost too big to cope with. Hmm. Would my hot little cunt contain it any better? Little girls do have limitations; that's why they're called little girls!
The kiss ended. Only momentarily, though, long enough for a sighing whisper, "Mmm, yes, doll baby, you sure are. I'll have to do something about that." Then her mouth returned.
Dazed, I couldn't make head or tail of it, I just didn't understand. Until her nibbling lips slid down to my neck-and I realized that she was replying to that silly statement of mine. I was dripping wet and now she was doing something about it. Taking care of her poor little wet baby-doll, wasn't that nice?
She tugged the towel loose. But not to use, .only to get rid of-a soggy heap on the floor-goodbye fig leaf! Or diaper. Leaving little doll-baby naked as a talcum powder commercial. But I didn't mind, really, in view of her good intentions. No, she didn't need any towel to dry the shower droplets from my body. And neither did I, happily. Sabine's kisses were better. Far better. Less effective, maybe, but infinitely more exciting.
Quivering to her touch, I stood there while she kissed the moisture from my bare skin. She glided around me, sliding her lips to the nape of my neck. Then to my shoulders. And part way down the ridge of my spine. Only to begin circling again, hearing me gasp now as her mouth made ecstatic contact with my nipples. The sound of my pleasure must have stirred her, increasing the frenzy of her kisses until I was sure she must have had a thousand mouths. At least. And I could only totter and close my eyes and let all thousand of them take me. My breasts swelled. My flesh responded of its own volition. Thighs, belly, buttocks-was there any curve on my body that didn't thrill to the intoxicating touch of those thirsty lips? But how long could I remain upright like this, how long could my sagging limbs stave off total collapse?
"Sabine ... please...."
"Umm? Hot little cunt getting hotter?" She stepped away from me, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder. "Too bad we don't have all night, huh? I'd show you what nor means."
"You-you...."
"Don't worry, I'm not walking out yet. But I do have to get back there, honey-and soon, too, or there'll be hell to pay. Hey, don't look so sad, there's still time. I promised you a big one, right? Okay, that's what you'll get."
I managed a weak mumble. "Promises, promises...."
She chuckled. Then, with a few hasty movements, she freed her arms and shrugged out of the long robe. It puddled at her feet, but I got only a glimpse of her naked body before she was closing in on me again, kissing my mouth with that big tongue of hers, sliding it in and out, pumping, retracting, fucking, fucking me in the mouth with the great length of it, the thickness, the power; oh shit, I could feel it all the way down my throat, all the way down inside my cunt, damn near. But my knees caved in at last and we crumpled to the floor together, the hard floor and the soft but spiny carpet, and I felt the hot response of my flesh once more crushed under that enormous weight, that impossibly exciting body-crushed, crushed, dominated by the woman and dominated by my own pleasure. And there was pain too, the prickly pain of the carpeted floor, but the pleasure and pain were parallel sensations that somehow began to merge and create something bigger than both as my lesbian lover at last slipped down to keep her promise....
With that big fat lesbian tongue!
My legs flailed crazily. My hands clutched, my fingers dug in and refused to let go, my cunt took all of that fucking tongue and fucked it right back-and I whirled off into the successive spasmodic convulsions of a violent climax that could only end in the darkness of a velvety swoon. The last thing I remembered ' was the sound. The wailing, the sobbing, the shrieking, the scream of a hot little cunt for a great big thick tongue-fuck, fuck, fuck-something worth screaming about, sure, but where was it coming from? Who was making all that noise. Could it be me?
Hot little cunt!
7
Everything went smooth as silk for the next few days and my hot little cunt got well taken care of by Sabine. In that domineering way of hers, how that woman could suck! But as for answering any questions about the strange atmosphere of Flamingo Towers, well, somehow she always managed to weasel out of it. Which wasn't exactly difficult, considering my attitude toward her, a kind of reverence tinged with fear-enough to prevent me from putting any real pressure on, anyway. I even fancied myself falling in love with her at times, especially after one of those fantastically satisfying orgasms she doled out to me.
Smooth as silk, then. Until one evening when matters got a little hectic again, another gathering in the big downstairs living room-presided over by Hildegarde, naturally. We were in a different comer this time, all clustered around the great stone fireplace, safe from the stormy weather outside. Quite cozy, in fact, with a bearskin rug under our feet and the bright flames leaping up and radiating soft orange light and gentle heat. A nice night for ghost stories or something like that.
Ghost stories, oh sure-not in Flamingo Towers! It didn't take our hostess very long to get around to the subject of sex once again, singling Fluff out for attention. The' was wearing a skimpy tunic, the color of her hair, sheer enough to let her body show through quite plainly. Just the tunic and a pair of frilly pink panties, that was all she had on. No shoes or slippers even, making her look like a frisky barefoot child. Except for that not-so childish figure, of course, complete with well-developed tits and a pair of hips that curved out almost phenomenally from her narrow waist. When she walked, her ass in those florid little panties seemed to jut and push back saucily at the clinging material of the tunic. Her bare legs were good, too, but it was always her backside, those remarkable butt-cheeks of hers, that attracted my gaze most.
Hildegarde appreciated that part also, apparently, calling it an organic wonder. "One of nature's organic wonders, to titillate the eye and tantalize the lesbian libido"-her exact words, clever enough to remember afterward. Only she had more on her mind than a mere compliment, it seemed, and we were soon informed that the so-called organic wonder had just been thoroughly chastised. Which, as expected, stirred Allegra's curiosity to the bursting point, thus making an issue out of it and falling right in with Hildegarde's now-obvious intention. As though her purpose all along had been to top off the punishment with a touch of humiliation.
"Fluff dear, turn around and let's see. Allegra would like to inspect the damage."
"Oh. Please, ma'm, must I?"
"You're whining. And you know what that might lead to. Right here in front of everybody."
I had the feeling that the kid would have liked nothing better-another walloping, right there in front of us. But she didn't dare defy her mistress, at least not openly. Standing there on the shaggy bearskin rug, she shoved her panties down and struck a pose as ordered, mainly for my aunt but including everyone else as well. Including me, certainly, unless I was imagining things.
Her bottom was red, sure enough. And she made an interesting spectacle like that, I had to admit, fucking the tunic up and posing in meek humility, the frilly panties dangling at half-mast. Her eyes glistened with incipient tears, her manner almost apprehensive. But truly a delicious sight, though, as she peeked back over her shoulder and awaited our verdict. Getting a secret little thrill out of it, too, I figured, actually enjoying her humiliation-which led me to believe that she had enjoyed the punishment as well. Oh shit, I was becoming an expert in such matters now, and my knowledge didn't all come from that pornographic library either.
Hildegarde smirked. "What do you think, Allegra?"
"Charming. Simply charming. But doesn't it hurt?"
"It's supposed to. But it's probably worn off by now. And besides, she's too well padded to worry about on that score; just notice the size and plumpness of those buttocks-see how they invite violence? An ass like that was designed to be spanked! Regularly and often, too." Then, swinging toward me, "Jody? What's your opinion, my dear?"
"It-it's beautiful."
"What a sincere compliment! You hear, Fluff? For flattery like that, I'd say our friend Jody deserves a kiss, wouldn't you?"
"A kiss? Yes, ma'm."
"Then stop preening and go give her one; you've exhibited yourself long enough, you vain little creature. Go ahead. No, don't bother with your pants, just let them drop. I like to see panties and such lying around on the floor. Uh-huh. With ruffles, yet. Lends a certain raffish elegance to the old place."
The panties had dropped and her chatter sounded oh-so-casual, but I was pretty alarmed just the same. Was the really going to kiss me? A peck on the cheek, perhaps, or even a light touch on the lips-I wouldn't mind that. Anything more though would be cause for embarrassment, enough to make me blush as red as that spanked ass. And she was sure heading in my direction, her big green eyes all liquid and shiny, the yellow tunic swirling softly around naked flesh underneath. Yellow shot with gold threads, I observed distractedly, almost a perfect match for her hair, quite lovely without the jarring mismatch of those silly pink panties. And wasn't it a match for that other hair, too, that tiny bit of cunt-fuzz?
I came out of my daze, gulping a last mouthful of wine hurriedly and using the empty glass as an excuse to rise-to get myself a refill, ostensibly. Just in case. I felt safer like that; at least she couldn't plunk herself down on my lap now. I stood a couple of inches taller, too, a definite advantage. Just in case. Oh shit, I didn't know what was going to happen.
Then, off to the side, I saw Sabine frowning. She caught my eye and winked broadly, the frown changing to an encouraging smile. As if she had disapproved of my standing to escape and was now telling me to play along. And just like that, with only her wink and smile to persuade me, I set my glass down and became available for whatever was on tap.
Funny. The whole business couldn't have taken longer than a few short seconds and yet it seemed like ages. With all that stuff running through my mind and Fluff coming toward me in slow motion. And then all of a sudden-surprise!-she was right there in front of me, looking embarrassed but eager, standing on tiptoe to make the tentative but hopeful offer of her sensuously moist lips.
I kissed them, almost shocked by the unexpected softness, the degree of femininity. There was a clean and natural smell about her, untainted by any commercial perfume, rather like a flower just plucked and crushed. I liked that, the innocence of it, the total lack of artifice. And when the tip of her tongue made a hesitant overture, I sucked the inquisitive little thing into my mouth without the slightest reluctance, poignantly aware of my newly awakening senses. Aware too of our audience, though, diminishing the effect of all this cozy fireside intimacy. But not overly so, not enough to shake my concentration or curb my rapidly rising appreciation of the splendor of our entwining tongues.
In a way, actually, the idea of an audience was even kind of interesting. Not as unpleasant as I had anticipated, certainly, and becoming less so by the minute. It was the age differential that did it, making me complacently conscious of ourselves as beautiful young girls being watched by old women who could only envy our youth and regret the loss of their own. Not so much Sabine, of course, but those two others, jaded and world-weary in their declining years and compelled to seek their pleasures almost vicariously.
My expansive mood burgeoned and I couldn't help but respond as Fluff's hand curved itself to the inside of my thigh and began to stroke lovingly. My involuntary moan gave her confidence and she put both arms around me, high up under my skirt, and then slid her fingers down inside the elastic waistband of my panties. I moaned again as her small hands slipped lower to cup and fondle my ass-cheeks, inducing me to let my middle slump and thrust forward in a grinding motion. Which, in turn, inspired her to roll my panties-down-or at least as far as my spread legs would allow, down to mid-thigh, where they stretched and locked firmly but still left plenty of room for her fingers to go on maneuvering above. I was happy like that, happy to allow her the freedom of my now-aroused cunt, but Hildegarde chose that moment to interrupt slyly, her words scarcely more than a whisper and directed to no one in particular. As if she was thinking and just couldn't keep from voicing her thoughts aloud:
"Beautiful. Oh, the two of them are so beautiful together. But they really ought to be naked...."
Sabine chimed in. "They're in the right place for it. Where they're standing, I mean. What they're standing on, you know?" Her pointed toe scuffed and prodded the shaggy rug. "Mmm, wouldn't it be nice to see bare skin"-scuffing her foot again-" on bearskin?"
A giggle broke from Fluff's lips, turning our mouth-to-mouth embrace into a fiasco. She shrugged out of her one garment swiftly and then started on mine, plucking at the buttons of my blouse with infectious enthusiasm. It infected me, at any rate, although not as much as the unimpeded vision of her-pert-nippled tits and pretty little gold-tufted pussy. I kicked off my sandals, hoping for some sign from Allegra first, wondering if she approved of this entertaining but increasingly erotic comedy. Only the blouse was gone already, with or without her approval. The hell with it, I figured-my aunt was outnumbered here-and wasn't this the time and the place and the perfect opportunity to regain that reckless feeling again? I needed it, that devil-may-care impetuosity, that giddy-girl carelessness, I needed it to bolster my ego and cope with this utterly new and unprecedented life-style at Flamingo Towers. Besides, with my sandals off, I was practically wallowing in the delectable sensation of the thick bearskin cuddling the soles of my feet; what a letdown it would be to chicken out now!
I lent a hand and was naked in a matter of moments. Fluff renewed the kiss but not for long, sinking slowly to her knees and trailing her lips down my body. Desire throbbed through my flesh, concentric circles of desire that turned the nipples of my tits to pulsating points. My mouth was dry, parched, and I felt beads of perspiration popping out damply on my forehead. She licked the curve of my belly and then crouched low to glide her soft girlish cheeks up and down along the inner surfaces of my thighs. And then, tenderly, her cute face was nuzzling up between them, up into my cunt. My knees flexed and went wide, giving me a pelvic tilt to accommodate the angle of those eagerly sucking lips. And at last I simply closed my eyes and surrendered to the delight of her caresses.
They contracted to a single touch then, one isolated caress that repeated itself over and over again as her tongue lapped at my clitoris with unflagging verve. And with unflagging expertise, too, far more than anyone might expect from such a young child. But she wasn't a child, of course, and I couldn't think of her as such even with my eyes open again and peeking at the pink blush of her well-spanked ass. Young, yes, but an experienced little lezzie just the same; oh shit, that hot-tongued mouth knew how. Regardless of age, the kid must have been sucking cunt for years. Or at least that was how I figured it, based on my own untutored and untested judgment. She was sure getting to me with that flutter-tongue of hers-a dainty lick-lick-lick, not at all like Sabine's powerful fuck-fuck-fuck-getting to me good and bringing on that old familiar pleasure despite the entirely unfamiliar technique. Unfamiliar from my end, anyhow, even though I had learned a somewhat similar style to use on my aunt. I could feel everything coming to a head inside, a lovely gurgle in my belly, just perfectly grand except that my legs were about to collapse.
Then, from out of the blue, another interruption, "Jody, aren't you being rather selfish?"
"Huh?" It didn't quite register for a moment, not from my Aunt Allegra. "Selfish? Oh. You mean ... uh...."
"I mean selfish. Taking all and giving nothing. Why don't you do it together? I'll bet Fluff would like that. And then we'd really see some bare skin on that bearskin rug."
The kid giggled again, rolling those big green eyes to peer up at me hopefully. "Jody? Wanna? You know. Wanna sixty-nine?"
I hesitated, on the verge of turning her down. Maybe even calling the whole thing off, if that was my only out. Sixty-nine! That was more than I had bargained for; wasn't this exhibition enough? I had never even tried it before and had no intention of beginning now, not in front of all these people. And especially not just to satisfy my aunt's curious whim.
But there was another aspect to consider, I realized in a flash of insight. Once she saw me going that far, the pattern would have to be accepted in the future and these same rights and privileges would be mine permanently. Which meant that I'd never have to feel sneaky about my affair with Sabine again; oh shit, that alone was worth the loss of a few dopey inhibitions! Besides, I was hot enough to try anything right now, hot and horny and even a little bit excited by the novelty of the thing. I'd probably be doing it sooner or later anyway if this house ran true to form. Sixty-nine. Eventually-why not now?
My knees caved in, giving me an exquisite case of gooseflesh as I tumbled into position on the furry floor. From then on I didn't pay much attention, just lying there limp and expectant and letting my more experienced partner make the necessary arrangements. And then the precious little girl-pie was served right to my lips, the pink slit all but reaching out to me through its tangle of darkish golden hair. While at the same instant her tongue found my clittie and began fluttering again.
It was different from that angle, more suck and less flutter. Or maybe it was only different because she was steamed up herself now, getting her own little secret button pushed. Anyway, a squeal sounded and then her mouth occupied my cunt frantically, lapping and sucking and gobbling and even doing a little well-meant but hardly comparable tongue-fucking. While I licked back in return, rather enjoying the fresh young flesh, a sweet taste and dewy succulence previously unknown to me. And then I too hovered around the blow-off level again, remaining just conscious enough to luxuriate in the totality of physical sensation before going adrift. All that deliciously tangy softness. Logs crackling in the fireplace, the never-ending blaze sending rays of orange light out to do combat with an army of flickering shadows. Setting currents of heat aswirl around naked flesh. Perspiring girl-flesh, soft and sensitive and sweeter than perfume, melting all over the big shaggy bearskin, melting and softening inward from the surface like buttered toast on a slow griddle....
But then, suddenly, I got too feverish to care about such romantic niceties, too feverish for anything but some frantic lapping and sucking and gobbling of my own-and hunting a cure for the fever, of course. Such a miraculous cure! A cure that we both might have discovered right then and there-sharing in the discovery-had it not been for another one of those aggravating interruptions. A message from boss Hildegarde again this time:
"Glad to see you enjoying yourselves, children. But remember, darlings, except for amusing little occasions like this, you mustn't touch each other. Not ever, you hear? No sexy stuff between you. That's a strict rule of mine, Jody dear, something to keep in mind whenever the two of you are together. Or even pass one another in the corridor. No hanky-panky. Strict rule-in case you didn't know. I don't allow Fluff that much freedom."
I heard her, all right, and felt awful for a short spell-a small century, really-aware of what a great team we made together, little blonde Fluff and little brunette Jody. I'll suck your cunt, you suck mine. A great team in so many different ways! Sixty-nine at least, just for starters. But then the lovely fever sprang up once more and we both writhed and twisted and exchanged stifled sobs and made better use of that bearskin than any bear ever had. A climax. Both of us. Share and share a-like. Together. Beautiful. Beautiful beyond belief. Oh shit, talk about selfish! All that beauty for one amusing little occasion? Only to be tom apart afterward by the mean old boss-bitch of Flamingo Towers? Shit! Just when I was beginning to like the place.
8
Even though it was silly now, I still felt a bit rash sneaking around in the dark of night. My heart hammered every step of the way-in anticipation anyhow, if not fearful anxiety. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, winding here, angular there, all dimly illuminated and only vaguely familiar. My memory didn't fail me, though, and finally I spotted the extra beam of light that signified journey's end. A light from Sabine's door.
It was slightly ajar. As I had known it would be. She was lying on her bed. Naked. As I had known she would be. Large as the room was, her statuesque figure dwarfed its dimensions and I got the impression of wall-to-wall woman. Or animal, perhaps, a female animal, more so than ever now. In the glow of the lone lamp, the sheen of her satiny skin made her look like some tawny-bronze cat-creature, a beast of the jungle.
I shut the door and checked the lock from force of habit, an unnecessary precaution in this cunningly remodeled old house. A throaty chuckle sounded, sending a ripple of excitement through me, adding to my eagerness. But I was safely here at last and could afford to take my time. And maybe even come a little closer to getting my curiosity satisfied. I sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her leg in silent greeting. Aren't you going to undress?"
"In a minute. Soon as my nerves quit jumping. Besides, I've got something on my mind, something you can help straighten out for me, okay?"
"Okay. Shoot. Unless you're just snooping, honey. You know, trying to find out more about Hildegarde and Fluff and what really goes on around this dump."
"Well ... uh...."
"That's it, huh?"
"Oh, forget it. You're right. 'I shouldn't have asked."
"Hey, don't feel so guilty. I don't blame you for asking. It's only natural. But you'll get nowhere like that, not with me or anybody else; why spoil the mystery? You'll learn more just keeping your eyes and ears open."
"Thanks. I'll remember that."
"Yeah. And meanwhile, well, if there's something I think you ought to know, I'll tell you. Everything else you'll have to judge for yourself, okay? Take nothing for granted, though. For instance, here's a tip for you, one of those things I don't mind talking about. This concerns you and Fluff. Never mind what Hildegarde said-if you two ' want to play around sometime, go to it. Just don't get caught, that's all. And even if that does happen, it's no big crime. It'll only mean another pink tail for little Goldilocks."
"Oh? You-you're serious? You're saying it's all right to-"
"I've said all I'm going to say. Case closed."
"Thanks again." I grinned. "And I do mean thanks."
"You two got along good, huh? Glad to hear it. That'll liven things up for you until the party starts. Which ought to be pretty soon, by the way. We'll have a houseful then, all wild women, a real madhouse. Are you looking forward to it as much as me?"
"Uh, not really, No. Not at all, as a matter-of-fact."
"Yeah? How come?"
"I-I'm just not like that. Not gay, you know?"
"Hmm. Jody baby, it's about time you learned the facts of life. You're certainly old enough. Or are you?"
"Of course. But age has nothing to do with it. I'm just no lesbian. It's okay with me if you are, but that doesn't mean-"
"No lesbian, eh? You sound pretty sure of yourself. Only it might just be your conscience bothering you. All those wild broads with one thing on their mind. Aren't you even curious?"
The word struck a responsive chord. Curious. I shuddered, aware of a ferment seething inside myself, a welter of vaguely recognizable pros and cons. And in-betweens. Hell, yes, curiosity had its hook into me, a barbed hook that wouldn't shake loose. But I still wasn't prepared to surrender my scruples.
"Okay, so I'm curious. I admit it. After all, I'm experimenting with you. And what I did with Fluff...." I smiled weakly, shrugging. "But that's about as far as I care to go."
"Too bad. That could create a problem, kiddo. You might have to go just a bit farther. Maybe not, though. Hildegarde hasn't shown that much interest yet."
"Oh. I hope she doesn't. But if I had to-well, if it was for your sake ... Or Allegra's ... oh shit, Hildegarde is our hostess. I do owe her something. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Hah! Or jump off, maybe. But about the party, all those strange women-no, not for me-that's where I draw the line. Because it's true what I said, I'm not a lesbian. I happen to prefer men. Or boys, anyway. And I expect to get married some day."
"Is that so? Married...."
"Uh-huh. But not tonight-if you're still interested. Of course, if you'd rather throw me out...." I started undressing hurriedly, making short work of it, anxious to change the subject. "See? I'm trying not to be such dull company."
"Hush now. Just lay your pretty little head on my great big old shoulder. That's company enough for me."
"Mmmm. Like this?"
"Closer, closer."
"Mmm...." I felt a convulsive pleasure as the big body shifted to enfold me. Her perfume filled my nostrils, spice-laden and sweetly pungent, an exotic fragrance.
"There, that's the way. Just snuggle up and well be like a married couple. Who says it can't happen tonight? Husband and wife practically, hmm?"
"Oh sure. Practically."
"Don't scoff, darling. Unless you're turning me down. Wouldn't you like to be my loving wife?"
"Sabine, please, no jokes. Just love me. How can you be my husband when you're not even a man?"
"How? I'll show you. Feeling sexy yet? I'll bet. You're always sexy. Hot little cunt." There was a touch of insolence in her tone. "I'm as good as any damned man. Better. I'll show you how a husband can take care of a wife."
"Silly. There are things that a man can do...."
"What things? This?"
"Oh!"
"And this?"
"Oooh, yes."
"I'll show you!"
I shivered in delight as the huge form loomed above me. Our breasts made searing contact. Mouth met mouth, straining to retain the seal as our legs entwined and interlocked. It was broken momentarily though, and my parted lips protruded and gasped like a fish out of water as her voice came through:
"I'll show you. I'll fuck you. Fuck the ass off you!"
"Oh! Do it. Fuck me. Love me. Show me. Fuck!"
"Yeah. Hot little cunt...."
The kiss rallied and endured stronger than ever, reshaping my lips to its airtight new union as I sucked her incomparable tongue deep into my mouth. As always, it took possession fiercely and without respite. My hips bucked spasmodically, the secret flesh seeking solace for its unbearable torment. Seeking and falling short. Until her healing hands moved down boldly to lift my frenzied loins almost clear of the bed. Then, miraculously, a kind of progressive rapture stole over me. Blood rushed to my head. I whimpered, clutching and digging my fingers into the bare back over me, sensing every ebb and flow of muscle contraction beneath the smooth skin. I got dizzy and went into an ecstatic swoon as the jerky bucking motion of my hips rounded off the rough edges and patterned itself to the more regular rhythm that was being forced upon me.
Flesh slithered. Flesh upon flesh....
Female flesh-but that didn't seem to make much difference now, somehow. Sabine was so big and strong. Just like a husband. Why couldn't I be the wife of such a tower of strength? Could a hot little cunt ask for a better fuck? There was a weird thrill even in the violence, in the sensation of being crushed and handled like this. Oh shit, it was almost like rape!
Well, not quite. Something was lacking. But in her own way, my lesbian mate was more than making up for it. Every so often her hands crept up between my thighs and probed imperatively. It felt as if I was being ripped open so that all those sensitive secret places in my cunt could be brought to the surface and laid bare. And touched. And rubbed. Flesh upon sensitive flesh. Every nook and cranny.
It even hurt a little. Sabine's mouth would have been better at that. Mouths were softer, more gentle. But the hurt wasn't all that awful, really.
And anyway, wasn't that pretty much how husbands treated their wives? Sometimes the rough part even felt rather nice.
"Jody, hold still."
"Hmm?"
"Hold still, I said. There. Like that. Just touching. No, don't you dare move!"
"But-but I-"
"Hush. Hold still or I'll spank you."
"S-spank me?"
"Damn right. Behave or I'll blister your ass. Don't you know that's a husband's privilege? Hold still, baby." She wriggled, adjusting her body to mine. "There. Now!"
I moaned, intensely conscious of the heat generated in my belly spreading wider and wider. It was marvelous, this feeling of sensuality, this feeling of being possessed, this feeling of tufted hair and moist flesh grinding, grinding, grinding! Cunt on cunt. Legs interlaced to let crotch embrace crotch, an awkward position to get into, but easy after the motion began. A soft squirming, kind of, putting a slippery pressure on my clitoris and doing the same thing to hers. I was sure of it. Both together. And making the pleasure greater for each of us. Was there a better way to fuck?
Impossible. Nothing could be better.
Sabine was still in control, of course. As she had been from the very beginning. Like a domineering husband over a weak-willed wife. A moment ago she had even threatened to spank me! Blister my ass? No, it was probably just a joke. But who could tell? Even now, with her hot breath exploding inside my mouth, I just couldn't be sure of anything any more. Anything but this crazy fucking climax, cunt to cunt and tongue to tongue. As for the rest, well, I'd just have to get used to my big lesbian lover all over again. Lesbian husband! And it was pretty exciting, I had to admit. Wasn't this what a bride was supposed to feel like on her honeymoon?
9
Sabine made love to me that way quite often. Not always, though-sometimes she used her tongue like before. Either way was fine with me and pretty soon I found myself enjoying her company more and more. My lesbian lover. My big brute of a husband. I began to dread the arrival of other guests; would she still have time for me once the party got going? Worse yet, would she insist on dragging me into it?
She kept hinting in that direction. And judging from her little bursts of graphic description now and then, the so-called party was bound to develop into an orgy. The rules, for instance, what else could they signify but an orgiastic atmosphere throughout the entire house? And how careful she was to fill me in on them, too-with a twinkle in her eye-careful but oh-so-casual, caressing my breasts and murmuring into my ear in that throaty voice of hers:
"Oh, the house rules, before I forget. If you want privacy, lock your door. If you want company, leave it open. If you see a closed door, pass it by. Don't even knock, you might disturb somebody or interrupt something. Aside from that, talk to anyone you like-no introductions necessary. You'll meet everybody, of course, but that many names are hard to remember. First names only, by the way, no need to be stiff or formal, you know? The whole idea is to relax and enjoy yourself. Have a ball, darling. Okay?"
by that time all I could do was nod my head, too aroused to make any comment. Her caress had slipped lower, leaving my nipples hot and swollen; now she was toying with my cunt in a desultory fashion, carefully casual about that too. So I just nodded amiably and waited for her mouth to stop talking and finish the job that her fingers had started. And as usual, I managed to forget the party for a little while and have my ball right then and there. But the uneasy feeling always came back afterward, the feeling I had about getting involved with a slew of strange lesbians....
They began drifting in shortly after that, not in great numbers, just a few each day. The guests of Flamingo Towers. And they were certainly no strangers to Sabine. She knew them all-and considering how effusive the greetings were, they had to be more than mere acquaintances. It was like a reunion of a women's club, a high school or college group still keeping in touch some ten or twenty years later. Or a self-perpetuating sorority, rather, in view of the wide latitude in age. Although they all seemed old to me. old and ugly at that point-an opinion based more on prejudice than on observation, probably, since I could no longer expect the undivided attention of my big blonde lover.
Oddly enough, that same opinion was shared by Fluff, as it turned out, but not because of prejudice or jealousy. We were sitting around the swimming pool of a lazy afternoon, chatting and becoming increasingly friendly, drawn together by virtue of our extreme attitudes, more than anything else. Neither of us "" mentioned that embarrassing but admittedly gratifying command performance on the bearskin rug, certainly a memorable occasion. No, it was just that we didn't fit in with the mature women in Hildegarde's poolside circle, lounging and sipping tall drinks and reminiscing about bygone days. The had been excused from her customary duties, apparently, and one of the ancient housemaids was in attendance, a bit bedraggled in her drab gray uniform but serving the ladies calmly and efficiently nonetheless. I didn't even notice who had taken over the after-swim shoe duty, it just didn't matter any more.
Anyway, the two of us got pretty chummy, both in and out of the water. A strictly legitimate, of course, obeying Hildegarde's "no touch" law to the letter. We held impromptu races at the opposite end of the pool. We had contests to see who could stay underwater the longest. It was like a holiday almost, a holiday away from the adult world, and we giggled and squealed and just acted childish in general, reverting to bygone days ourselves in a way. In fact, during all that time I felt sexy only once-and it had nothing to do with my merry little companion.
It was sure sexy, though, enough to shake me up and start some juices flowing. A distant glance from Sabine did it, a sidelong glance and smile that made my heart flip. All of a sudden I was conscious of the lovely thing between us, a secret that the others may have guessed but couldn't enter into. Right out there in the bright sunlight, we were cloaked in a mysterious shadow all our own. I was seeing her through eyes that were different from the rest. My big blonde lesbian-type husband. And I liked what my eyes saw.
Oh shit, I loved it! With no physical contact or verbal communication, Sabine had somehow managed to fluster me. She must have known it, too, I could have sworn the pose of her body was deliberate right afterward. It was scarcely noticeable, just a slight sway and swing that turned her sideways at an odd slant, a twist of the torso that thrust her buttocks out toward me. My gaze dropped but couldn't be controlled, following the beautiful curve of her calf and thigh back up to the bikini bottom and what it covered. Or didn't quite cover, rather. I had never truly appreciated that ass before. So big and yet so deliriously firm!
But then again, well, all of her was like that. Still, I was aware of my fingers itching to touch her there, to approach her from underneath at that perverse angle, itching to slide up inside the fabric and probe the moist crevices of flesh until she sobbed aloud with desire. Uh-huh. Talk about desire! My cheeks felt flushed and my tits were tingling and I recognized a familiar bubbling in my cunt that threatened to well over and drip and no doubt embarrass me to tears. I could picture myself running into the house before the strain showed through, taking small steps to keep my cunt-lips clenched and the damage down to a minimum. And still I couldn't tear my eyes away, stuck there until at last she took pity and ended it herself, coming out of that lewdly seductive pose to stride off in search of a drink. Or something. Another conquest, maybe. Some of those old biddies....
I didn't wait to find out, plunging into the pool to lower my body temperature before the thermometer bubbled over. And that was my only sexy experience of the afternoon-except for a suggestive little hint from Fluff later on, near sunset time. That was when I learned how closely she shared my opinion of the newly assembled guests. Her reason differed somewhat, though, more direct and to the point than mine could ever be. Guests were okay, she said, it was just these earlier ones that bothered her-a dull bunch so far, bearing out her contention that the "oldest and ugliest dykes" always seemed to arrive first. Present company excepted, naturally. Which led to a little something on that subject-present company-namely me. The one newcomer she was glad to have around, like herself. And maybe we ought to get together again sometime, huh?
That sounded pretty cryptic. I agreed but didn't pursue the issue, figuring on mulling it over with a clear head. Did she mean get together again like this afternoon? Or did the suggestion hark back to the night of bare skin on bearskin, a far more intriguing deal that would require a certain delicacy to negotiate. Then, as we were about to part, she came out with another brain-teaser, an irrelevant remark that seemed to be hinting at something deeper, some sort of veiled message. It was spoken with a grin, slyly, almost an afterthought:
"Hey, that's your room up there, isn't it?" Her arm gestured toward my window. "Hmm. Nice view of the pool."
That ended our jolly afternoon, leaving me wondering but none the wiser. Anyway, I didn't have much time to ponder. That same night after dinner there was a gathering in the main living room that approximated a party. A comparatively sedate party, though, just to get the guests moving around and mingling. More of an old-fashioned mixer than an orgy in the making, I decided. Although it soon became obvious that many of the ladies were carrying on several flirtations at once in an effort to select a compatible partner for later. Cruising, it was called, a word that forced itself into my vocabulary by sheer repetition. And by a jab of wry old Hildegarde's pointed humor, too, when she chided a nervous little Fluff for "pussyfooting around like some toothsome morsel cruising a bar with a carnivorous butch on every barstool."
Even from me, that drew a laugh-the woman sure had a gift for drollery. But I was glad to see the poor kid sit down and rest. Those tempting ass-cheeks of hers no longer so vulnerable to any stray hand bent on a grab or a goose. Or a painful pinch, even, for the few lady-like bitches who enjoyed hearing a little girl screech. Or was the little bitch enjoying it too, perhaps?
Oh shit, this was hardly the time to make judgments. I was content just to steal a glance at her once in a while. She had dressed for the occasion, all dolled up in a green party frock that fit her curvy body to perfection. High heels, too, not that ultra-high pair she had worn as a maid, but still high enough to look almost whorish. And the sheerest of nylons, naturally, since our hostess had some kind of grudge against pantyhose. Whorish, then, including just a shade too much makeup. At least that appeared to be the intended effect. Only how could a whore look so demure?
That was Fluff's peculiar charm, no doubt-whatever the costume, there was always a little girl around inside, a cute little child who always managed to pop out. Only the emerald-green eyes let her true sophistication show through at times, and that didn't happen very often. It was happening now, though, happening just for me; she had seen my glance and locked in on it, sending a message. Another cryptic brain-teaser?
She lowered her gaze, swinging my way just a trifle and crossing her legs in a slow movement. Nude skin flashed. I could see it above the stocking-tops. And the act was done in such a leisurely manner that I knew it could only be on purpose. For a poignant instant my eyes were riveted to that revealed patch of flesh. While my mind journeyed beyond it, succumbing to the lure of the unseen delights that beckoned from beyond.
I shuddered, biting my lip in anticipation, held there by some inexplicable hypnotic power. And not until some boozy old biddy crossed my line of vision was I able to turn away. It scared the shit out of me then, and for a good reason-twice in the same day? All in the span of a few hours, first my big lesbian lover and now this cute little lesbian brat, each striking a pose strictly for my benefitfor my lesbian benefit?
The first one wasn't such a puzzle really, I was already half in love with my big brute of a husband. And hopeful right now that she would make herself available to me later tonight. But this last one, well, why should I have felt anticipation? Was that the message she had sent? An inducement? A proposition? An invitation to partake of those unseen delights?
Unseen delights, oh sure. Cunt. A paid-up membership in the Flamingo Towers Society for Depraved Girls. Brunette section, of course, blue-eyed brunette to balance green-eyed blonde. Just to keep things properly organized. No, that didn't sound right, it was the other one who did the organizing. Like threesomes, for instance. Uh-huh. The big one. With that big strong haunch thrust out just for me. Another lure into unknown delights. Ass. Or was it the other way around? Cunt inside the bikini, ass above the stocking tops. Cunt, ass, cunt, ass, did it matter? I'd be getting around to all four of them sooner or later. More than I ever did for dear old Auntie Allegra, the bitch. Dumb bitch! Couldn't she recognize the real thing when she saw it? Couldn't she see my talent waiting to be discovered? Lesbian cunt Lesbian ass. Lesbian depravity. So how come I don't feel guilty any more? Hey, organizer, better make that a lifetime membership!
It was a nice party, but I didn't feel like getting drunk tonight. I shouldn't have switched to that other stuff after so much sweet wine. And anyway, the kid was right about the early arrivals-all those ugly old dykes cruising around. Cruising each other mostly, but always eager for a crack at me. Not that I blamed them, with young stuff at such a premium. If only they weren't such goddam dogs! Kind of depressing in a way, frustrated old ladies leering at everything in sight. Old cuntlappers with their tongues hanging out.
Still, I was a guest here myself, a guest with certain obligations to fulfill; it was no more than common courtesy. I tried to be friendly without getting downright chummy. But it wasn't so easy after a while, not with all that alcohol stirring them up. Too many obscene proposals were whispered in my ear. Too many hot fingers wandered up my legs behind a chair or a table or a potted palm. Too many studiedly careless hands brushed against my tits and then congratulated me having such a fine young figure. With a congratulatory pat on the ass, like as not. No pinchers though, thank heaven, mine just wasn't the type of ass that invited violence. I even wondered about that a little, trying to understand the attraction of a plump butt on a slim body. It was attractive, sure enough, and I might have gone over and done some congratulating myself if all those eager heavy-breathing women hadn't kept us apart. Besides, I figured my social obligations had been discharged by that time and was looking for a word with Sabine and then a hasty exit, before some of the more vixenish mouths stopped barking and started biting. Damn persistent, those mouths, almost obnoxious.
And yet I could only take it as a compliment, whatever this coven of hags did to gain my favor. A compliment to my youth and beauty and whatever else they saw lurking inside me. That included even the worst of the lot; and some were monumental bores! They were ugly but far from dumb, not too dumb to recognize the real thing, anyway. Not too dumb to plead for a front row seat at the unveiling of my hidden talents. Oh shit, those lesbians had already sniffed my undiscovered potential and were just dying for a chance to bring it to fruition. All of them. Every dyke within sniffing distance. Well, no, not quite. All but my lover Sabine. I could tell by the look on her face as she saw me coming. Not tonight, Josephine. A brush-off. She'd be sorry for that some day. Only my name was Jody, not Josephine. And she was much too tall to be playing Napoleon. It was a brush-off, pure and simple-my hot little cunt was being spurned by the one cuntlapper it craved. Now I knew what abuse a poor loving wife had to suffer at the hands of a faithless husband....
Old meany!
10
Making my exit might have left some disappointed wooers wailing and gnashing their teeth, but I managed it in fine style. Tonight's party was merely a preliminary, not the party, and they were all pretty much reconciled to taking pot luck. I was free as a bird, no strings attached. Not that I felt very bird-like, trudging upstairs to my room with an untabulated number and mixture of drinks sloshing around in my belly.
I had the key to the library, still unreturned after getting it from Sabine this morning, giving me something to do in case sleep evaded me. I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about that, but it was easy to see how a girl could get restless all by herself in the midst of revelry. And after an hour or so of tossing and turning, I got up and made the trek downstairs again, wearing a slightly grimy shorts-and-halter outfit suitable for the dusty library.
On impulse, I peeped in on the main living room first and found very little going on, just a group of diehard drinkers making maudlin conversation in one comer. All guests; no sign of anyone I was curious about. And I was curious, admittedly, after that rejection from my mean old hubby. Curious about Fluff, too, for obvious reasons, still puzzled by all that vague and possibly meaningless innuendo at poolside this afternoon. I wondered how she had fared when the party crowd thinned out; was she safe and sound in the arms of her beloved mistress?
Somehow even a dull real-life situation seemed far more appealing than any musty old book at that point. Then too, the idea of adventure had a certain charm, and I figured it would be a thrill to roam those dark corridors even if no one awaited me. So I postponed the library idea awhile and set out on a stroll, hoping to catch a glimpse of something entertaining and perhaps even edifying. Like a little fuck-suck scene between a couple of old dykes maybe, all sweaty and flabby and repulsively ugly-but still capable of splitting a big orgasm and getting their share. Their rightful due. Which was sure as hell more than I was getting. Oh shit, the more I saw of lesbians, the more I realized how simple and uncomplicated' their search for sexual satisfaction could be. Without the stumbling-blocks of courtship and marriage and possible pregnancy to trip her up, even a blowzy old bag could find someone to help, her make it through the night. With clits so sensitive and tongues so supple, who needed that big stiff thing a man had to offer? Especially when his concept Of an offering was more like the first shot on a pool table, the "break" or whatever they called it. Or else maybe just the opposite, and the big stiff thing goes limp as a wet noodle. No tongue ever folded in the stretch like that.
Oh well, it was good philosophy anyway, and it gave me something to think about in those dim halls. Because there sure wasn't any action going on, at least none that I could spot. Every door was tightly shut. I even became less cautious, no longer worried about being waylaid by some other night-walker. Except for those boozers downstairs, everybody in the house must have been fast asleep. Or so I thought. Until I made a wrong turn and passed by the master bedroom a second time.
Hildegarde's room, one I'd never been in. I had gone by earlier and found no sign of life, but now there were sounds coming through the door. A mumble, if nothing more. And with no fear of anyone catching me in the corridor, I put my ear to the panel and moved around to locate the best listening-post.
Uh-huh. The noises penetrated from inside, all but indistinct and yet audible enough to create a recognizable pattern. Two voices, and it didn't take me long to label both. The woman's voice-sharp and strident. The voice-muted, almost a piping wail. No doubt about it, the mistress and her little maid were in a hassle again. Getting things thrashed out between them?
The sound of scuffling reached me-and then the sharp noises, sharper than any voice, smacking noises, slow and steady, falling into a measured rhythm-smack-smack-smack-what else but a pounding palm on a well-fleshed behind?
I listened avidly, fascinated, almost ashamed of the depth of my emotional response. The door was too thick, dammit, but I strained to hear it all, holding my breath and striving for every rustle, every moan, every piteous whimper, every nuance of sound that might flare up in my imagination to create some vivid -likeness, an image, an unforgettable illustration to match those unforgettable noises. I was more concerned for myself than for that poor kid in there.
Poor? No, I had a hunch that Fluff was one happy little cunt at the moment. She was getting what she wanted. What she needed. What her worshipful attitude lusted for, turning worship into the erotic ecstasy of a spanked ass, stung to a hue more scarlet than any ordinary sin.
Whatever it was, they sure got the thing all thrashed out between them. When the final echo subsided, I was too shaky to stand there and wait for a second round. I bypassed the library once again and went straight to my room and flung myself on the bed, still in that shorts-and-halter outfit. That was pretty weird, illogical even when I saw the logic in it. Once undressed, I'd be fingering my cunt and jerking myself off faster than a firecracker with a clipped fuse. This way, I couldn't reach it and had to endure the prolonged torture, a little pain almost, and wasn't that the least I could do to sympathize with that sweet little chubby-assed martyr? I only wished she could be here to appreciate my sacrifice. I had sure appreciated hers....
I must have lain there like that for quite a while. On the brink of orgasm but deliberately postponing it, staving off my climax and the sleep that would naturally follow. It didn't make sense. And then all of a sudden it did. Intuition told me who was making the noise out there even before I went to the window to investigate. It was almost as if I expected to see her down there. Fluff. Wandering around at the edge of the pool. As if some invisible secretary had acted as a go-between, scheduling an appointment that had to be kept. A weird notion, I had to admit, but there was design and purpose in its very weirdness.
Still dressed in those same wrinkled garments, I scurried downstairs before she could change her mind and go back in. Or before she tumbled into the water, considering how unsteady her steps were in those high heels. She too was wearing the same clothes, despite the spanking scene I had witnessed with my ear. And how beautiful she looked! I caught my breath, seeing her like that against the background of the starlit night, the moon reflecting a thousand silvery beams on the surface of the pool.
"Jody? Is that you?"
"Uh-huh. You'd better sit down, hadn't you?"
"No. I can't stay here. I'm supposed to be entertaining one of the guests tonight. And if I don't show up, Hildegarde is liable to come looking for me."
"Oh...." A thickness blocked my throat. "Are you trying to avoid her?"
"What do you think?"
"I think"-my voice sounded clearly and distinctly, detached somehow from the smoldering fire in my brain-"that we ought to get out of here in a hurry. Both of us."
"Keep thinking. I like it."
"My room?"
"Fine. Got anything to drink?
"Sorry, no. Is it necessary?"
"Well, it helps. I'll get something, I've got a half a bottle of nice wine stashed away."
"Want me to come with you, Fluff? You're a little rocky, can you make it all by yourself?"
"Easy. You go up-I'll be there soon. Ten minutes at most. Leave your door open, huh?" Still teetering on the high heels, she moved off and vanished in the darkness.
I left the pool and went back up, my heart throbbing almost audibly. My room seemed overly warm now, I could feel the oppressive stickiness. Beads of perspiration were forming at the nape of my neck and rolling down my spine. Maybe it wasn't the heat or the humidity, maybe it was something else making me sweat like this. I felt grimy in these clothes, too, and figured there might be time for a quick shower. Anyway, the door was open in case she got here before I finished.
Stripping quickly, I tossed the unsanitary things aside and stepped in under the spray, turning it on cool but full force. The deluge struck my naked flesh with invigorating power, at least partly quelling the volcanic turbulence that had built up within me. It was strange, the thought that struck me then-how strange to be acting like this, waiting for a girl but preparing myself for a lover. Oh yes, I had changed a lot since coming to Flamingo Towers....
Fluff entered just as I was emerging from the bathroom draped in my robe. For a long moment we stood still and stared at each other. Instinctively, I clutched the robe tighter, conscious of my nakedness underneath.
"Couldn't find the wine, brought this instead." She held up the bottle, about one-third full. "Booze. Okay?"
"I can do without it."
"Shit. If you don't join me...."
"Okay, okay. You take' it with water? There's a glass-"
"No glass, no water, just slug it down." Swaying precariously, she lifted the bottle to her lips. "Oops! I'd better get settled first. I must be stoned-almost took a flop on the stairs." She parked herself on the bed and tried again, tilting her head back to take a gulp. The movement tugged the hem of her dress high up on her thighs. Then, wincing as the liquor went down, she handed the bottle over. "Now you. And don't say no."
I really didn't want a drink. But the sight was affecting me, the thigh-flesh above her nylon hose, hypnotizing me again as it had done earlier tonight And I just had to do something to keep from staring and going into another trance. The liquor gurgled down my throat. It burned, making me struggle to suppress a cough. But it was a nice kind of burning, a real warmth. Nicer still after it hit my stomach and started spreading the fire a few moments later. My little blonde friend was a good provider.
We chatted awhile, passing the bottle back and forth between us, getting more and more giggly. Fluff started telling jokes, dirty ones that weren't really jokes at all, but we laughed just the same.
She had slumped back against the pillow by then, leaving room for me on the edge of the bed. The atmosphere was hot and close, the bond between us thick and sweet, flowing like a river of cream. But there was a terrible thirst growing inside me, a thirst that demanded something more than alcohol.
"Oooh...." Fluff shook her head suddenly, refusing a drink. "I'm smashed, you know? Everything is getting hazy."
"Here. One last sip?"
"No. I may pass out on you. Any minute."
"Be my guest."
"You won't get mad."
"Nope. Go ahead. I'll take care of you."
"Promise?" Her legs shifted, fucking the skirt higher, and then her eyelids flickered and drooped shut. "You're nice...." The words went on in a diminishing mumble, meaningless but tenderly expressive somehow, fading to a final silence.
The whisky was still in my hand. I put it to my lips and drained the last few drops. My robe had fallen open, but that scarcely mattered now-the kid had either passed out cold or was giving a dam good imitation of it. Without looking, I set the empty bottle on the floor, my gaze once again drawn to the combination of flesh and nylon. My body felt heavy and swollen with indefinable urges. I had to do something. But what? How? I licked my lips, aware of their dryness, aware of that strange and terrible thirst.
Tentatively, gingerly, unsure of myself, I placed my hand on one exposed knee. This was going to be different, not at all like that other time, not even as I had imagined it-I was no longer the seduced but the seducer. But perhaps it was better this way. As long as I had the chance, why not experiment a little?
A garter-snap had loosened, allowing the stocking to twist and wrinkle on her leg. It spoiled the pretty picture. Oh well, it had to come off anyway, hadn't I promised to take care of her? I certainly couldn't let poor Fluff sleep in her clothes. Gently but with a wealth of determination, I undressed the limp little doll, not trusting myself to pause until the job was completed. Then, for an interminable moment, I peered down at her nude form, fascinated by the lovely young tits and the soft-sloping belly.
The vision was irresistible, a delicately fashioned treasure of femininity. Her cunt looked like some edible bit of fruit hiding under its brownish gold fuzz-a shelled nut, perhaps, a dainty pink almond peeping coyly out of its silky setting. I bent low and sniffed it, closing my eyes momentarily and recalling that time in front of the fireplace, the natural scent, the smell of a just-crushed flower. Right then and there, I was ready to burrow into the softness and suck till doomsday. Or until sunrise, at any rate. But wasn't I supposed to experiment a little tonight? With this Sleeping Beauty at my disposal, couldn't I do more than just suck"!
Of course. It must have been in the back of my mind from the start. If nothing else, I did have something more to look at-the real thing now, no imagination necessary. The thing I had visualized with my ear pressed against the panel of that door. Just what did a well-spanked ass look like? I could examine one at my leisure now-and not from a distance, not with others around to make me ashamed of my interest. That first impression still lingered in my memory-the way she had stood there so meekly, the tunic up and the panties down, putting her punished ass on display....
Suppressing my eagerness, I rolled the kid onto her stomach slowly, methodically, careful not to awaken her. And then it was there for me to feast my eyes upon, plump but firm even in that position, round and plump and deliriously pink. I noticed the dimples now, too, a discovery that in itself was enough to make my investigation worthwhile. One in each chubby cheek, so cute!
Cute wasn't exactly the right word, though. Kissable? Uh-huh. And no sooner said than done. I pursed my lips-one dimple, one kiss. There. Another dimple, another kiss. Uh-huh. And suddenly my head swam and the soft flesh was like a magnet that clung to my kissing lips and wouldn't let go. How I loved those darling dimples! But there was more to kiss now and my mouth was already open and exploring the inflamed flesh with wet suck-kisses-soothing sympathetically-kissing and making it all better again. Licking it, too, running my tongue all over the dimpled domes. While the skin under my moist caress seemed to grow warmer and warmer as if it was trying to show that my attentions were welcome. Such a delectable little ass, plump and tasty as a dumpling; maybe I would remain right here to wait for the morning sunrise! Wasn't it a thrill to discover something new and different and so unexpectedly delightful?
Anyway, it was a long time before I rolled the limp body over again to return to my first love. Cunt. The succulent fruit that smelled like a flower. And that lovely golden hair, so un-like my own. I nuzzled among the silken tendrils, spreading her legs gently with my hands, and then at last went through the tangle to press a kiss into the soft flesh. It remained quiescent awhile, coming to life only at the insistence of my questing tongue. Then, almost avidly, it seemed to open and respond, the delicate warmth waxing hot and humid under my mouth.
Fluff slept on, though. And yet I could feel the tiny twitching motions that signified the awakening of her flesh. As if her body had to greet me even though her mind was unconscious. I continued the kiss, trying to maintain an even pace. From a distance, I could hear the measured rhythm of the ocean waves lapping the shore. Quite deliberately then, I timed the movements of my tongue to that outside noise, using it as a kind of metronome, holding the tempo down despite my own rising excitement.
A moan sounded. Limbs writhed and tossed. I heard her moaning again and then one smooth-skinned thigh brushed against my ear with a rustling whisper. While the other trembled and twitched and stirred around restlessly. And somehow, unaccountably, the entire act was enhanced by a sensation of triumph. Conquest! As if this squirming body now belonged to me. This moist flesh, this sweet-scented pocket of sensuality-mine....
The notion gave me a small shock. Odd that I should think of a sex-partner like that. As a victim almost. Was it the reading of those books in the library that had affected me thus? So many of them depicted lesbian love as a relationship between victor and vanquished. And yet I couldn't attach all the blame-or the credit!-to the books alone. Maybe it was inside me, maybe I had always been like that down deep in my inner self. If so, wasn't it nice that my first conquest should be so exquisitely appealing, a beautiful golden-haired little doll?
11
In the morning, she awakened me with a kiss on the lips. It was soft and lingering and just obtrusive enough to drag me out of dreamland. I sighed contentedly, regaining consciousness. The kiss continued, her enterprising tongue a delight in my mouth. Feigning sleep, I lay still awhile but then had to sigh again. Such a smart little hussy! Her leg had slipped between both of mine; now she was making slow humping motions with her middle, rasping the flesh of that intimate thigh back and forth across my cunt. "You awake, Jody?"
"Uh-huh."
"I have to go. Back to Hildegarde, you know? But I couldn't leave without telling you goodbye."
"Ummm...."
"Hey, aren't you listening?"
"Uh-huh. So tell me."
"Hmm?"
"Tell me goodbye. Finish."
I'll
"Oooh! What a monster you are. You don't even care if she gets mad and beats me up, do you?"
"Huh? Oh. You mean Hildegarde. Will she?"
"Not if I bring her good news."
"Good news? Fluff, what are you talking about?"
"Well, uh, she kind of -likes you. I think she's hoping the three of us will get together some time. But it's up to you, of course. So if you say yes and I bring her the good news...."
"Oh. I get it."
"So? What do you say? Jody?"
"Don't rush me. I've got to think it over. Meanwhile you can finish telling me goodbye."
"Hmph! I should have let you go on sleeping."
"Too late now. Come on. Finish what you started."
"Don't be so bossy."
"Haven't you heard? I'm the bossy type." Then, with a giggle to soften the impact, "Getting bossier every minute, honeybunch, so you'd better show a little respect."
It was her turn to giggle. I shifted my body in a movement that was slow and lazy and languid and yet implicit with unmistakable demand. And then her warm face was pressed against my skin and I watched the golden head sliding away from me, sliding far away as her kiss traveled downward on a damp-trailed course. Until, quite soon, I had to struggle to avoid sighing again as that small but highly skilled tongue licked daintily and then split the lips of my cunt to dig in and nudge me toward a peak of clitoral sensitivity from the underside. Moments later, still languorous but quivering in endlessly mounting response, I could feel her hot young mouth actually munching on my flesh; ah yes, marvelous!
She stopped suddenly. "You like that, darling?"
"Oooh...."
"Want more?"
"Mmm..
"But if you want me to be nice to you, then don't you think you ought to be nice to me?"
"Uh-huh. I'll be glad to." I reached to touch her. "Don't. That's not what I mean."
"No? What, then?"
"You know. Hildegarde. Please say yes?"
Her tactics were only too clear. She was bent on wheedling the desired answer out of me. Making my body seethe with passion and then holding off until I caved in. And it was all so unnecessary, really, such a waste of time and effort. Because I had already made my decision. Affirmative, naturally, what else? Sabine first and now Fluff-both anxious to get me bedded down with hostess Hildegarde. Oh shit, it was in the cards, a social obligation that simply couldn't be shirked. A moral obligation, practically.
As a matter-of-fact, couched in these latest terms-apparently definite and certainly more amenable-the idea even appealed to me. A sex session with the imperious mistress and her humble little maid? I could learn a lot from that. I might never be another Hildegarde, of course, but some day-before this Florida vacation ended-the little maid was going to be mine to dominate. Not as a maid, perhaps, but a conquest nonetheless; wasn't that how I felt last night? Yes indeed, a threesome with those two would be right up my alley.
"Fluff, baby, you've got yourself a deal. Now bow your pretty head and finish what you started. Or maybe you bit off more than you can chew, huh?"
She giggled and began kissing my cunt again, only to interrupt herself, glancing up impishly. "Who's biting?"
Laughter struck us both. It wasn't really that funny, but we were brimming over with the joy of being together. And knowing we would be together again. Often. But she still had to be leaving soon and we were wasting precious time-and as our merriment began to fade I made a little wriggling movement once more, just authoritative enough to deliver my message. And just in case it didn't, I caught her hair with both hands and pulled the sweet young face back down where it belonged, muffling her last exhilarated squeal with a mouthful of moist cunt-flesh.
It would have been easy-and far from unpleasant-to lie there and let her suck me to a climax like that, obeying my command to end what that early "goodbye" kiss had set into motion. But then I thought of everything we had done together thus far and was overwhelmed by an impulse to repeat our first beautiful embrace. With no audience this time. She was soft and sweet and exquisitely feminine, and I just had to reach down and touch her. To let her know how much I wanted to kiss her. As she was kissing me. Even if it did seem a pity to disturb that busy little tongue at its busy little labors....
"Hmm?"
"Come on. Swing around, honey. Fluff!"
"Huh? What?"
"I want your cunt. Let's do it together. See if it's as good on a bed as on the floor. Sixty-nine. Come on!"
She acted kind of dazed, but I was already gripping and tugging and allowing her no further hesitation. Halfway around, I saw her pink-andgold pussy and could hardly wait to taste it. And then the turn was completed and my mouth found her. As her mouth found me all over again. And with our heads locked between each other's thighs, pleasure became a single unit that we shared mutually, our bodies fitting together as though we had been predestined for one another.
Then, barely audible, "Jody...."
"Ummm?"
"Play with my ass. Please?"
"Hmm? Oh...."
"More. Harder. Use your finger."
"Like this?"
"Uh-huh. In. Stick it in."
"But-but it'll hurt if-"
"Do it, do it. Right up my asshole!"
"Ummm ... okay...."
"Don't be afraid. Wait. I'll show you."
"Oh!"
"There. See? It doesn't hurt much. Come on now, do the same thing to me. Only harder. All the way. Uh-huh. Good! That's it, lover, frig me, fuck me, fuck me in the ass!"
Her mouth plunged back into my cunt and I did it to her. My mouth followed suit as she did it to me. And we hurtled toward orgasm that way, sucking and frigging and screaming our ecstasy into the fleshy depths of each other's beloved young body....
It was dumb to do what I did. Dumber than dumb, if that was possible; after all, the awareness of my folly kept flashing an alarm beacon inside my brain even while I was doing it. Somehow, regardless of my rights and privileges, I just knew it was wrong to be openly critical of Sabine. For whatever reason, no matter how valid! But I was feeling pretty cocky about my secret affair with Fluff at that point and just decided to take the bull by the horns.
Some bull, that Sabine! Strong as one, anyway, even if she didn't show that type of masculinity. And even if her only horns were the invisible kind, the horns of a she-devil. I should have known better than to tangle with her. Even now, she had me stammering nervously and wondering how to retreat and still save face.
And yet my reasons were valid, sure enough. "It-it's just not fair, Sabine. I'm always around when you want me. All you have to do is snap your fingers, practically. But when I need you, well, that's another story."
"Uh-huh. So what?"
"So how can we be husband and wife if you go off by yourself? Sure, I know it's your job to act like a hostess to the guests. I don't complain when you're working. But when I only get to see you once in a while during the day...." I shrugged disconsolately. "Be honest now, do you have to get involved every night?"
"Hmm. Sounds like jealousy.
"I'm not jealous. Just curious."
"Is that so? You could have fooled me."
"Okay, so maybe I am jealous. I just don't like your being alone with anyone but me. So you can call it jealousy, I guess. Anyway, it sure makes me mad."
"Oh? How mad?"
"Mad enough to-" I broke off. "Sabine, you're teasing me. I wish you'd be serious."
"Sure kiddo. See how serious I am?"
"Oh, forget it. I give up. Just make love to me right now, that's all. Suck me or fuck me-do something, will you?"
"Darling, I've been' patient so far, but you mustn't talk like that to me. Don't ever tell me what to do or what not to do. Wives don't give orders to their husbands, remember? At least my wife won't. Or maybe you're looking for a divorce, hmm?"
"N-no. But do you have to leave me all alone so much? You're my husband, but that doesn't give you the right to be mean to me, does it?"
"Umm, no, I suppose not."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Don't you have anything to say about it? The least you can do is answer me."
"I'll answer you, Jody. Come here."
"Huh?"
"You heard me. Come here."
I couldn't quite fathom the expression on Sabine's face. Now she actually looked sexy. And angry, too-all at the same time, somehow. Just sitting there and waiting. And as I approached her, the puzzling expression didn't change.
Then, abruptly, she lurched and pounced. With a scream of shock, I yielded to the strength of those powerful hands. Off balance and utterly demoralized, I tottered and collapsed as she tossed me across her thighs. I sprawled awkwardly, legs awry, and then gasped as her savage fingers clawed my shorts down. Panties too, a moment later, both garments binding my knees together, stilling most of my frantic activity and making me ruefully conscious of the cool air licking my flesh. And now I could only squirm in helpless furor, my bare bottom up-ended and exposed and pitifully vulnerable.
"What--what are you doing? What...." I choked up, unable to repeat the foolish question.
"What does it look like? I'm going to spank you. Wallop your ass. Hard. Until we come to an understanding. If you insist on acting childish, then I'll just have to treat you that way. Like a child. Like thisss...."
My butt burst into flame. I whimpered. Was she really going through with it? Maybe that one smack would suffice as a warning, though, ominous but only symbolic. Oh sure. Maybe. The next one took my breath away. And after that I quit counting, there just wasn't much purpose in keeping track.
It hurt. It was for real. Incredible. Outrageous! How awful to he over a woman's lap and get whacked. But her strong grip held me immobile, incapable of escape. A fresh burst of pain exploded in my flesh with every swing of that bruising palm.
"Sabine ... please ... I ... "
"Sorry, kiddo, you can't beg off. I'll have no more jealousy from you. I won't have you checking up on me. And if this is what it takes to make you understand, then this is what you'll get. How else can I teach my smart-ass wife a lesson?" Smack!
That one stung. I howled long and loud, finding it a release from tension at least. And then the howls softened and turned into low wails. Groans. Whimpers. Familiar, somehow-like the sounds I had heard through that door the other night? The same rhythmic noises. The same moans. The cries of a young girl in pain. And in passion? Hardly possible-and yet I could feel myself living that unseen image. All of it. The erotic part, too, even though I knew it was only my imagination working.
For that matter, even the pain didn't seem so bad any more. It hurt, sure enough, but she wasn't laying it on so hot and heavy now. Just a punishment that had to be endured. Anyway, it could have been a lot worse. The pain, not the humiliation-oh no, being treated like a naughty child was humiliating indeed. Shameful! But even that had a certain strange excitement, something I stewed over and couldn't quite figure out. Except that it must have been coming from Sabine herself somehow, an infectious excitement that was grinding all those mixed emotions into one. A lovely lust! For her more than me, perhaps, and quite recognizable now-her anger had faded to the vanishing point, turning my chastisement into something sensual. If not downright sexy!
But if my big brute of a husband felt like that, could I be far behind? Not -likely. Oh shit, now there was a flicker of heat in my loins that took the edge off even that lesser pain. It was becoming fun almost, even though I knew that my poor beat-up ass must have been somewhere between rosy pink and fiery red by then.
"Getting warmer, baby-doll?"
"Ummm ... hot...."
"Hot? Here?"
"Oooh! Yes. There. Everywhere. Hot all over."
"Here too? Here?"
I yelped, writhing in sudden response. Her free hand had dived under my belly to grab hold and hang on. Now it held me and squeezed voluptuously, gripping and cupping and palpating all at the same time, all in the same lascivious gesture. Exquisite! But her other hand was still at it too, still slamming away on its now-routine mission, and I could feel the "painless-pain" heat outgrowing that flicker stage by leaps and bounds. Until at last I was flooded with it, an intense heat on both sides. Above and below. Buttocks and belly. Blistered ass and craving cunt. Dry on top, damp and steamy underneath. It got all wet and slippery down there; no wonder her fingers finally lost their grip and whooshed right in....
"You like this, huh?"
"I-I-"
"Don't answer. I can tell. Hot little cunt. Now you've got a nice hot little ass, too. Yeah. You're going to make it soon, you know? Hit the jackpot Bet you never figured it could happen this way, a spanked ass and a frigged pussy, how about that?"
"Please ... oh...."
"Hot little cunt. Yeah. Go, baby, go, go, go!"
I was already going. And I couldn't do a dam thing but lie there and love it while that high hand kept swatting my bare bottom and the low hand maneuvered me toward a climax. There was just no stopping it, no way to stop myself. Pain and memory and reason had fled, leaving only desire-agonizing desire that would settle for nothing short of total assuagement. I could only chum and convulse as the long fingers marauded my cunt. My head was dangling next to her leg; quite spontaneously I pressed my face close as the spasm came on, brushing my lips to that nearby curve as a point of reference, kissing the bronzed skin of her sleekly muscled calf. And then those two implacable hands actually seemed to move faster, harder, one hitting and one caressing-and both bringing pleasure! While that blissfully unavoidable spasm hung on for an instant and strained for infinity, stretching itself beyond the borders of time. Beyond the limits of lust....
12
When the phone rang, I had an urge to remain in the tub and let it go unanswered. But what if it was Sabine calling to arrange for one of our "connubial" nights of love? Or little Fluff, perhaps, with another sneaky cloak-and-dagger rendezvous in mind? Or even Aunt Allegra in search of her brand of fun, less appetizing but still imperative to our peaceful coexistence-all in the family, as it were-with no lingering doubts about who wore the proverbial pants. That fat-assed bitch still thought of me as a dumb kid, imagine!-dumb but showing signs of improvement lately; and wasn't this Florida holiday simply grand for both of us?
Dripping bath bubbles, I clutched a towel and scurried to answer the jangling demand, drying myself on the run. The voice sounded only vaguely familiar over the wire, belonging neither to Sabine nor Fluff, dam the luck-nor to Allegra, thank heaven-but it was important just the same, more important than all of them in a way. And yet I heard it with a distinct sense of exasperation. Of all the times for boss-lady Hildegarde to call....
"Jody, you seem upset. Is something wrong?"
"Not really. I'm just out of the tub."
"Oh. Sorry, my dear. Shall I ring you back later?"
The offer was tempting, but hardly prudent from my end. "N-no, I'm all right. Just sit tight a minute and let me get this towel draped, huh?" Royalty had its privileges. "There now, I'm organized. Sorry if I sounded abrupt. What can I do for you?"
"Hmm. Good question. But first tell me, how big is the towel?"
"What? Oh. Well now, not nearly big enough, you know? I'm popping out at the side. And jiggling over the top, too. It must be this Flamingo Towers food and sunshine agreeing with me. I'm a growing girl these days. Or haven't you noticed?"
"Little minx. Who hasn't noticed? I'd be noticing now if this phone system was hooked up for television. Hmm, that's an idea-Big Butch is watching you. But forgive me, my dear, I'm rambling...."
"It's okay, you ramble just fine. 1984. Hey, wouldn't it be something if Big Brother really turned out to be butch?"
"A diesel-dyke, no doubt. And you're right about 1984-so you must have read Orwell; aren't you clever! Jody darling, I'll just have to quit thinking of you as a dunce. "I get the feeling you know more than me at times."
"Nope. Not a chance. I'm still Just a kid except for what's busting out from under this soggy towel.
And besides, you just stumped me, you know? That word. What in hell is a diesel-dyke?"
"Diesel-dyke...." She chuckled. "Let's save that for later, shall we? I'll bait my trap with it, a trap for an inquisitive little mouse. If you really want a definition. I'm considered an expert at that sort of thing. The vernacular. Gay slang and such. Definitions to satisfy curious young ladies. Will you come?"
"Huh? Where? When?"
"Why not tonight? Right after dinner, let's say. Don't bother to dress, itll be just the three of us."
"Three of us? Oh. You and me and Fluff, hmm? Your room?"
"Of course. Won't that be nice? You two darlings are so beautiful together-I'm just dying to see you again, all nude and giggly and so affectionate. So there's no need to dress up, dear, come in slacks or shorts or whatever is comfortable." Then, chuckling again, almost coy, "Or if you'd rather just wear that towel...."
I laughed, picking up her cue. "This old rag? Oh no, it's at least a couple of sizes too small. Suits my girlish personality maybe, but not my new Florida-ripe figure. I'd get waylaid along some dark corridor, I'm practically naked in it."
"Waylaid. Sounds like fun. But right now you're still pretty wet, I suppose. Mustn't let you catch cold. So I'd better not keep you any longer, honey. See you tonight?"
"Tonight. I'm looking forward to it. And thanks for the lovely invitation. It was sweet of you."
Not until afterward did I realize that the invitation had been issued almost as a command. And yet it seemed "lovely" nonetheless, the way she had broached the idea, just the tag-end on a charming little speech about gay slang. The way she had prepared me for it, too-all that flattery! Compliments, rather, and quite sincere, the kind of praise to turn a pretty girl's head. My face and body had been flattered enough; wasn't it great to hear a good word about my mind for a change? What an ego-boost!
I had a right to be proud of myself this time, matching quip for quip with the local champion-even on a subject like that Orwell book-and coming away unbloodied. Even now I still felt quite elated, all keyed-up and eager for more of the same tonight. More of anything she had to offer! Including sex-and without reservations; oh hell, how could I play the pouting game and act cool toward a woman who had made me feel so alive?
Funny. My acceptance and thanks may have been a bit glib back there, considering the almost imperious nature of her request. All duty and courtesy, wasn't that how a grateful young guest thanked a gracious old hostess? But now the amenities had taken on new meaning, somehow, and I found myself truly looking forward to it, my entry into high society-the royal bedchamber! My first venture into that unknown but admittedly enticing realm. And I was feeling sexy about it, too, turned on by a comparatively chaste phone call; didn't that rate as some sort of minor miracle? Face it, Jody baby, you're a horny young bitch. Uh-huh. Still the same hot little cunt. With or without all that intellectual bullshit on the side....
After dinner meant just that, apparently, and I never even made it back to my own room for a preparatory primp. All of a sudden there I was, mildly tipsy from the wine, following that stately green-clad figure through seemingly endless corridors and across the threshold at last, urged from behind by an inflexible but equally intoxicated Fluff. And I was glad to be there, despite a few untimely physical symptoms. My breathing was erratic, jerky, shallow one instant and deep the next: We had just left the dinner table, but my body felt all fluttery and frail-as if I hadn't eaten for hours and was all hollow inside. I didn't need any urging to find myself a convenient chair and quiet my knocking knees. And only then did I look around to see what made the master bedroom so special.
It had its points, sure enough. Size, for one thing-it was big and spacious and -lined with mirrors that added to the illusion of great depth. With a king-size powder-puff bed. imagine, a whopper of a bed with a tiny quilted satin headboard-the circular kind that I had never seen except in movies and magazine ads. I had always wondered if people ever really slept in them. And I might just go on wondering, too. Because nobody was going to get much sleep on this one tonight. It shaped up more like a stage than a resting place; except for that headboard, a perfect theatre-in-the-round-just right for an audience of sleepless porn-freaks. Continuous performance, naturally.
At a sign from her mistress, Fluff flicked switches and adjusted knobs. The indirect lighting went low, and from various comers the sigh of soft music came up. Hundreds of violin strings vibrated in harmony, resounding in crystal clarity from the mirrored walls. It was too much, too obviously seductive an atmosphere-campy enough to be almost corny. Unreal, certainly. All it needed now was the stench of incense. And maybe a few aristocratic vampires cavorting around ... sexy but just a bit spooky....
"This okay, Miz Hildegarde? Not too loud?"
"Fine. Now why don't you pour us all a drink? I'm sure there's some wine that Jody will enjoy."
"Yes'm. Uh, mind if I get comfortable first?"
"Silly girl. Need you ask?"
Corny or not, the atmosphere must have been effective. Fluff's small form gave birth to a long rippling shudder and she began to glide out of her clothing. Like a serpent shedding its skin, she seemed to slither away from the rumpled garments, stripping down to bra and panties. The wispiest of bras and the flimsiest of panties. In jet black, so precocious! Ambling across the carpet like that to sway over bottles and glasses at the drop-leaf liquor cabinet, she hardly appeared like someone who had undressed just for the sake of comfort. Especially in this luxurious, sex-suffused setting. And I had some difficulty curbing my momentary fascination enough to show proper respect for the hostess, at last turning my attention back where it belonged.
Not that Hildegard was hard to look at either, exactly. She was in a surprisingly prim gown though, a full-skirted thing that swept the floor-yards and yards of filmy green tulle, a dark green that pointed up the contrast of her brown hair and cinnamon-bright eyes. But as always, looks didn't matter much when her wry wit took over, sharp and scintillating in any situation. I sat entranced while she picked up the threads of our telephone conversation and filled the gap in my knowledge with her "definitive lecture on the diesel-dyke" obviously a type to be pitied or disdained, it seemed. "My dear, who wants a woman in jockey shorts?" Such a degree of masculinity was considered abnormal even by most lesbians, she contended, calling it "a result of overworked and undernourished glands, more than -likely, an imbalance of hormones common to lady wrestlers and roller-derby queens"-with a twinkle in her eye-" and a goodly portion of the Russian women's Olympic track and field team, I'd wager."
She sipped at the drink Fluff had placed in her hand, leaning back in the big upholstered easy chair and crossing her legs, a posture that now brought her feet into view for the first time Because of the overly long and decorous gown, I was curious about what kind of footgear she had on; would that too be as radical a change? But no, her shoes were as anticipated, almost sinful by comparison. The color was a matching green, but I had never seen such pointed toes and finely wrought skyscraper heels. Sexy, to say the least. I was glad to note a certain consistency in some areas, anyway.
The wine went down nicely. I waited for the action to begin, a bit more impatient with each passing minute. There was going to be action, naturally-of that I hadn't the slightest doubt-but what it would entail remained a mystery. A mystery that I was already anxious to solve, stirred once again by the sight of little Fluff prancing around restlessly, lighting cigarettes and replenishing drinks and flaunting her near-naked body with obvious glee.
She had plenty to flaunt, too. Sheer and delicately feminine, her black bra and panties just weren't very concealing; in fact, their tissue-thin fabric actually enhanced the allure, the appeal to sensuality. From my viewpoint, those two tiny garments were no detriment whatsoever; who could resist 'he bewitching magic of all that creamy-golden innocence defiled by lewdly suggestive black?
Fascinating! All those curves-convex here, concave there. The delectable young breasts, the narrow waist and remarkably broad hips. And those slim legs, the flawlessly smooth taper of thighs and calves and ankles. Even the bare feet treading the carpet were pretty. Her toes gleamed like clustered pink jewels, the tips tinted to match the color of her fingernails. Only the rear view disappointed me, offering no more than a hint of the dimples, those fetching ass-cheek dimples that lurked unseen now, apparently too dainty and demure to penetrate even the flimsy veil of her lingerie. But my regret was short-lived as she swung around again, giving me another dazzling vision of that dewy-fresh little body with its quaintly sophisticated amalgam of soft shadow and lustrous light.
She came to rest after a while, settling down on a hassock at the feet of her talkative mistress.
Every so often, capriciously, the two of them smiled at each other for no reason at all-as if they had both gotten the point of some inside joke. Only no such joke had been told, of course, and I found myself puzzling anew over this incongruous but evidently compatible relationship. Maybe its success was even due to that very incongruity, the wide disparity in age and intelligence bringing them closer together somehow. Closer where it counted most, right there on that big 360-degree mattress.
Then, rather abruptly-and again with no perceptible reason for the switch-Fluff rose and took my hand, tugging me up out of my seat in a gently cajoling gesture. "Jody? Wouldn't you like to get comfy, too? Naked? Come on. Let me help you."
I was quite willing, aware of Hildegarde's beaming nod of approval as she watched us move toward the bed. The kid got there first, falling and pulling me down after her. I tumbled readily and was overwhelmed by a sensation of sinking into a huge round candy-box of marshmallows. Artful fingers undid fasteners, disposing of my blouse and skirt and working on a few final underthings as a couple of quick leg-kicks sent my sandals spinning away soundlessly. That was my only effort; everything else seemed to be in good hands, including my now-nude expectant body as it recognized some of its fond expectations already achieving at least partial fulfillment. Ah yes, I was being well attended by my little blonde attendant; what luxury to lie quiescent on a genuine powder-puff bed-complete with sleek satin bedspread-and feel my flesh awaken to the plea of moist-lipped kisses.
Conniving lips, though, what else?-also to be expected, what with the mistress of the manor still seated outside the charmed circle, still nodding and beaming benevolently. And issuing silent commands, no doubt-soften her up for the kill!-in a secret sign language known only to predatory old lesbians and their cute young procurers. Not that I minded, really, except for the silly secrecy; after all, hadn't I already decided to let myself be procured? Unless it got too rough, maybe. My idea of a lesbian career didn't include things like whips and chains and branding-irons, ugh, or maybe losing my ass to some sadistic diesel-dyke, ugh, ugh. Aside from that, well, anything okay for consenting adults was okay with me.
It was all gravy so far. Soft fingers, soft lips, the soft subtlety of girlishly feminine artifices. Fluff. Easy to feel, easy to enjoy, easy to love. But where was the bossy old woman, where was the bitch-power that should have been invading and plundering and pillaging the treasures of my already ceded body? Hildegarde. What was she waiting for? If she sat there much longer, I might age and wither right under her nose-give or take a few years-and rob her of all that fun, the prize, a share in the ecstatic immorality of sweet adolescence gone astray. What a drag for an old lezzie who got her jollies playing around with young stuff. Uh-huh. Oh shit, what a drag for me!
Not that I had much cause for complaint at the moment. The-was showing off her technique, probably, making it nice and gentle, moving slowly, stealthily, a smart huntress zeroing in on her prey. Narrowing the circle of her caresses, drawing the loop of the noose tighter and tighter. It was great, too, except that I could no longer lie still under that sensuously creeping mouth. That know-it-all mouth! Didn't it know how much my cunt craved....
"Tease her, darling. Fluff? That's it, tease that hot little thing until she screams. For me, darling. I want to hear her scream out loud. Oh, you're so beautiful together!"
13
If that was all she wanted, I could have screamed my head off and ended the suspense right there. But it might have sounded phony, I figured, especially to an expert on screams. Which she sure seemed to be, judging by her enthusiastic demand. Besides, it was her game, not mine; why not play it according to her rules?
Funny about that. Lying there on that big powder-puff bed, I couldn't help but realize just how much the game belonged to her. Even the kid with the know-it-all mouth was hers, golden hair and all, her maid and companion and lover maybe, but her "slave girl" even more. So it was Hildegarde's game, sure enough, she owned the bat and the ball and the rule-book; how could any ordinary mortal hope to compete with that? Not me. Oh hell, she owned the whole damned stadium!
And yet, perversely, I wasn't quite ready to admit her ownership of me. Maybe I just wouldn't scream when the time came, maybe I wouldn't even scream at all-just to do a little teasing myself. A headstrong notion, perhaps, but as long as she insisted on making some sort of contest out of it, why not oblige her?
The kid was still following that same playful pattern meanwhile, her own version of ring-around-the-rosie. Only it didn't strike me as playful any more, now that she was so close. My spine arched and I felt myself giving way to the shrinking orbit of caresses. A puffy pink cloud swirled over me; in .the haze of my benumbed perception everything appeared so curved, so convoluted. The circular bed. The wreath-like garland of kisses. The all-encompassing music. Even my own flesh seemed to be taking on added roundness, dilating and swelling to conform with the environment.
I shivered at the sensation, the faraway kiss, the torment of waiting. Her hot cheeks chafed my thighs one after the other, and then I felt wet lips skimming over the inner skin-surfaces, high up, the sensitive part, nice but certainly exasperating. The ticklish tingle soon mounted to a small crisis, absolutely maddening! My own lips began tingling too now, eager for a taste of delicious young cunt, eager to complete that kind of circle-wishful thinking, though, unless our sidelines coach changed her mind. Was her ladyship still sitting there in serene splendor?
She was. Entirely too serene, damn her, poise like that was more suited to a sedate schoolteacher at a seminar, not a bitchy lesbian in a bedroom. Not this bedroom, surely, in view of the smart but somewhat unscholarly circumstances. With music and mirrors yet. To say nothing of naked little girls performing for her regal pleasure. In fact, the idea of such composure seemed almost indecent now, hardly conducive to this increasingly rapturous mood of the moment, and I simply shut my eyes and sank into a private darkness.
Ah' yes. that was better. But still too accessible, still not private enough, and I brought both hands up to cover my feverish face and hide from the world, hiding my guilt, my emotional distress, the shame of my suddenly desperate need. As though from a great distance, I heard a half-throttled moan and realized that Fluff too was running out of patience. I felt her tiny tongue stiffening, probing the kiss-damp tangle of cunt-hair, slithering in and up between my cunt-lips to dab cleverly at an already aroused clitoris.
My torso jerked and twitched convulsively. What a thrill! Even with my eyes closed, I could see it all happening down there. That cute angel-puss with its precociously ripe mouth, the pointed pink tongue-bud popping out from her dewy pink lips, precociously full and sensuous, the taut tip stretching to slip through two more pink lips-a second pair, mine, just as pink and dewy inside the dark fringe!-stretching and strengthening and becoming a small but truly prodigious pink tongue, an elongated and well-versed young lesbian sexorgan, having long since precociously sacrificed adolescent virtue for the privileges of consenting adulthood. Anyway, that thing in my cunt sure didn't feel like a kid's tongue. Or like anything else, for that matter. Except maybe a hot little sardine looking for a place to get away from it all.
Swimming upstream. Precocious, sure enough!
I opened my eyes again, sneaking a hasty glance at our unmoved audience and then turning my gaze to the other side. Or to the opposite curve, rather, considering the shape of the bed. The mirrored wall caught my attention with a flash of activity, a motion that must have come from myself, a flailing of my leg below the knee. As if I was still kicking my sandals off. Only a lot harder now, and I could actually see my bare foot flopping, the toes fluttering. And was that my belly writhing around under a tent of golden hair? All that soft hair spread fanwise, lovely, lovely-reason enough right then and there to make me recall my initial reaction to this "corny" room with a dash of remorse. I should have known better. The mirrors were here for a purpose, another expedient to stimulate the total erotic response. Oh well, live and learn....
That was when my brain-fog lifted. Hah! How come I was the only nude in the show? All this time on the bed together and I was just now noticing the panties and bra. Sly little rascal! I could have sworn she got rid of them in our first tumble, even before undressing me. Weren't we supposed to be naked"! Both of us?
Evidently not. Maybe there was a rule about that in the boss-lady's book. And it was too late to stop and find out now, of course, even though the revelation disturbed me. I'd just have to grin and bare it. Hah-hah. Fluff looked sexy like that, I had to admit, lying there in those two precocious bits of black and burrowing between my thighs, all but faceless under that disheveled blonde mane. Just like a whore. Faceless. Anonymous. A professional cuntlapper plying her trade in comfort; why should such a one strip naked just to service my cunt? The sheer black lingerie even contributed a certain spice, quite appropriate, a nice touch of depravity. And yet, because she wasn't anonymous to me-oh shit, I'd have recognized that chubby ass anywhere!-her cuntlapping costume seemed just a wee bit prudish. Wasn't it a kind of false modesty to keep the main points of interest covered? Especially when mine were anything but! Or had we somehow become involved in a contest of sorts, a silly game of one-upmanship....
"Make her scream, Fluffy-love. Tease her, tease her. Tease her till she howls like a bitch in heat."
"Ummm...."
"You hear that, my dear? Jody? She can do it, too, I know that fluttery little tongue of hers. You're going to open your mouth and scream. Soon! You'd better believe it. Won't that be embarrassing? But don't worry, darling, maybe I'll take pity on you, maybe I'll be sweet and smother your scream in my cunt. Only you'll have to be just as sweet yourself then and thank me for it, won't you?"
Big deal! I could have laughed out loud. But that might have been mistaken for a scream, so I settled for a gentle groan just to keep the lines of communication open. Although I probably couldn't have done much laughing anyway, in all fairness, not with that tongue fluttering on cue down there. Still, it was a pretty dumb threat, as far as I was concerned, shrewd but unnecessary. All that "make you scream" business seemed only too obvious now, just a roundabout invitation to suck her high-and-mighty cunt. Another command-type invitation, naturally, observing the already established protocol between us, the gracious old hostess and her grateful young guest. Oh yes, she had managed to orchestrate all the genteel courtesies into that one anticipated smothered scream. But the threat itself was hollow, a foregone conclusion practically; wasn't that why I had come here tonight, to pay homage to the royal pussy?
Far more significant to me, oddly enough, was the knowledge that she would soon be taking her clothes off, joining me in my nakedness. Or even if she got only half-undressed, just the baring of her cunt would restore my pride. I groaned again, hoping to stir her to action, anxious to edge into that next stage of our night's fun. Anxious for something better from Fluff, too, by that time. A little less flutter and a lot more tongue. Hopefully!
Hildegarde took the hint, slipping her shoes off and clambering up onto the bed. The flurry of activity caught me by surprise; all of a sudden there she was, towering high above me, balancing precariously and using the narrow headboard for support. Still in that overblown green gown though, layers and layers of filmy green, and showing no signs of removing it. While the fiendishly sexy tongue went on tickling down there, flicking my clitoris with calculated and extremely tantalizing accuracy. In desperation, I tried to clamp my legs around that mop of golden hair, eager to stuff the seething emptiness of my cunt with something more solid than a tiny fluttering tongue-tip, no matter how erotically attuned. But then even that was denied me-unbearable!-as the bent head ducked cunningly out of reach to remain painfully elusive until I let my threshing limbs subside, all my efforts coming to naught, a miserable failure. Only then did that mischievous tongue return and the tickling go on. On and on. Just as unbearable in its own way, of course.
But the picture was plain now. That minor capitulation made the major one easier-or at least less demeaning, somehow. Anyway, now that the choice had become so clearly defined, I was ready to scream for Hildegarde's satisfaction in order to gain my own. And still I waited, whimpering, moaning, prolonging the agony only to heighten the eventual thrill. For her, too, as much as myself. Let it be a big one for both of us, our first together! Our first of many to come, quite -likely, depending on the success of these next few minutes, the culmination of this strange affair; wasn't it just the beginning of something even bigger?
I peered up breathlessly, visualizing her unseen and as yet unfamiliar cunt in its shadowy setting. It would soon be available to me, open to my inspection-just as soon as she unwound herself out of that hideous dark green shroud. And a few intimate unmentionables underneath, perhaps, hand-stitched and very expensive, the kind only a wealthy woman could afford. I could all but see it up there, the maturely fashioned female crotch in its aristocratically fragile underwear. Touched with some costly perfume, no doubt. And wasn't I lucky to be here, lucky to be so close, lucky to find myself in this atmosphere of voluptuous luxury? Oh yes, I would suck that cunt tonight, idolize that stately body, worship at that exalted shrine. Gladly! Because I wanted to. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to unveil and adore that patrician flesh with my lips, offering a thousand kisses of supplication....
"Well, my dear? Isn't it about time?"
Still peering upward, forgetting even my own needful cunt to concentrate on hers, I opened my mouth and let the shrill noise erupt, startled to the point of shock by its spontaneous rise and ear-piercing intensity. I simply couldn't stop myself. Nor did I even know what I was screaming for-whose cunt, whose tongue, which need? But by then it didn't much matter really, what with everything happening at once. The tongue-tickle ended, turning into a tender but thoroughly satisfactory face-fuck, most exhilarating. And the voluminous green skirt was already draped over my head, becoming a gradually darkening canopy as Hildegarde's body lowered itself into a squat.
My eyes strained, penetrating the darkness before it closed in completely, recognizing the vague shape and texture, the murky vision of hair-tufted feminine flesh unimpeded by undergarments. No panties, just hairy flesh! Cunt. The visual impact faded then, but inside that deliriously constricting enclosure all my other senses became more keen, responding to the soft rustle and sweet scent, the touch and at last the taste of what I had waited so long for. I didn't know when my mouth stopped clamoring and started kissing. Nor was I at all self-conscious-or even concerned
-about any "embarrassment" as a consequence of my nudity; somehow that scarcely seemed relevant now. Except that I soon found myself actually basking in the concept, a naked centerpiece, truly the star of the show, sucked and swallowed at one end, sucking and swallowing at the other. As though they were both trying to smother me with love, working together as a team. All for me!
Then, rather brusquely, Hildegarde's squatting figure lurched and changed position on my face, depriving me of that suckable cunt and substituting something quite different. It staggered my mind momentarily, roiling the smooth flow of my pleasure; did she really expect me to do that"!
"My ass ... lick my ass...."
The voice sounded remote, but its meaning reached me like the slash of a knife-blade, cutting off all doubt. I obeyed somewhat hesitantly, a surge with the shame of this unforeseen degradation, the network of nerves in my body going taut with tension. Much too tense, I realized-my legs had a grip on that head down there and were squeezing entirely too hard. The poor kid was struggling frantically for my attention, trying to get me to ease up. I did so, of course, but then felt a twinge of annoyance as her lovemaking became noticeably less enthusiastic. Experimentally, I tightened the clutch of my thighs again, signaling my impatience, and was delighted by the astonishing swiftness of her response, a renewed fervor that appeared to grow greater under heavily applied pressure. It took only a moment to repeat the experiment and come to the conclusion that she was reacting masochistically, spurred by the pain of my crushing leg-vise. A sign of submission, obviously, something to be remembered and incorporated into my still-unformed plan to dominate her. All of which made my own "degradation" seem almost trivial now, and I sloughed off my earlier distaste and devoted myself ungrudgingly to the task of indulging the boss-lady in her every desire.
This one, specifically, novel if nothing else. Pausing only for breath, I nuzzled up into the darkly furrowed flesh of her bottom, wriggling from side to side to cleave it asunder like an upward driven wedge. The soft buttocks settled upon my cheekbones, splitting wide and separating to surround most of my face as the tiny central orifice puckered out to welcome the tip of my tongue. As though each understood the other....
"Hey! Good, good."
"Ummm?"
"Now you're doing it. That's the way to lick an ass, darling, oh yes, fuck me like that, fuck my asshole with your tongue! I love it. Uh-huh. You've got the knack, all right. A few weeks of practice and you could develop into a damn fine ass-licker, you know? Best in the business maybe."
The words pelted against the windows of my mind, gaining entry and forcing me to think more lucidly than I cared to. I almost wished she hadn't uttered them. Or that they could now be erased and forever left blank, a gap in the tape. And yet those words were true-such a terrible truth! Wasn't I this minute licking a woman's ass? Licking a lesbian's ass. And not like that one other time either, not just kissing a few cute dimples on a sleepy girl's fanny. Oh no, not with that tiny puckered hole up there gulping in the length of my tongue!
Then, luckily, before remorse could set in, Hildegarde switched positions again, giving me a glimpse of green, an ocean of green, a placid but strangely perilous ocean-and her cunt was like an undersea cavern that offered precious sanctuary. I dove in eagerly, taking comfort even in its familiar scent, familiar but more thickly tinged with musk now, sultry, erotic, an aroused woman-smell. I knew her climax was coming. And so was mine. Soon! My thighs widened and then snapped together once more, clamping around that faraway young head even as the weight on my face ground down and threatened to crush the life out of me. I didn't mind, though, glad to have something to cover me in this moment of moments, glad to play my little game of hide-and-seek, covering my "lesbian guilt" like a child steeped in shame. Glad to feel my orgasm on the way, too, my belly heaving and my mouth sucking. Guilty or not, here I come!
14
The party, such as it was, had begun with a vengeance. But more guests were still pouring in, new arrivals every day, so I had received no ultimatum as yet regarding my own participation. I expected to, naturally, but thus far only Sabine had discussed it with me-and she had limited herself to persuasion. Coy persuasion, actually-a bit unbecoming to someone of her size and strength-but I still couldn't detect any hardening in her attitude. Better yet, despite her importance around the place, she managed to spend more time with me than ever. More than I deserved, probably.
And I sure needed her, too. Even though the threesome on the round bed had been an unqualified success, neither the rich mistress nor her little maid came chasing after me for a repeat performance. Or any kind of performance at all, singly or together-both were just too dam busy with the guests. Even my Aunt Allegra left me alone; no wonder I was becoming so dependent on Sabine!
Our relationship was still a "husband and wife" thing-on the surface, at least-but that seemed to be wearing a trifle thin. I was more like a pet, really, with no duty other than to be available when she wanted to make love to me. Or spank me. Or both. And aside from that, the life of a pet was pretty dull. But those good times were compensation enough; how could I complain? Especially since they were occurring fairly often these days....
This evening, for instance. Giddy with anticipation, I was on my way to her room-by invitation, of course-and figuring on at least a few happy hours alone together. I could hardly wait. It was going to be one of Sabine's "sweet" nights, I was certain. Yesterday .had been a rough one; for practically no reason at all, she had hauled me over her knee and slapped hell out of my bare ass. Not the sort of thing to continue on a daily basis. And yet I didn't mind, actually, even a spanking was sexy the way she went at it. Besides, there were always those sweet and tender times in between; why worry about a little walloping now and then?
Her door was closed. I knocked lightly and heard her voice, a thrill even when muffled and distant like that, a sound to signify the true beginning of my day. My insides churning with pleasure, I entered and pulled the locking knob shut behind me. "Sabine?"
"I'm in the tub, honey."
The bathroom door was ajar. I put my eye to the crack and saw her face perched above a crest of frothy bubbles. The foam came right up under her chin, leaving only her head visible, the disembodied head with its pile of bright ash-blonde hair. But I knew only too well what lay out of sight; beautiful as that face was, it had a figure to match. I could almost see it there lolling beneath that fizzy mountain, a body that represented so much power-and yet somehow without a trace of masculinity. I couldn't recall a line or curve that detracted from its over-all feminine appeal. Nor did I have to make any guesses to fill in the blanks, remembering exactly what those jutting breasts looked like. Those sun-bronzed legs, so impossibly gorgeous....
"Hey, what gives?" She caught my peeping eye. "You going to stand there all night? Come on in and relax, keep me company. I'm almost finished, you won't have to wait long."
I sat down on the John lid, letting her carry the burden of the conversation, finding it somewhat less than appetizing myself. As usual, the topic was Flamingo Towers and its current crop of party guests-interesting enough as such, but bound to lead into another coyly persuasive hint or two about my own personal status. Which I would just as coyly ignore, still under no compulsion to accept or refuse point-blank. And so it went. Until the discussion ended along with her bath, thank heaven, ending my impatience.
She got out of the tub with graceful agility, her bath-warmed skin covered by a lacy filigree of foam. Grabbing a towel, she began drying herself off vigorously, putting her nudity on display with apparent unconcern for my presence. And yet I had the feeling that she was showing off for me-the lyrical swell of hips, the tilt of her big nipples, the sheer symmetry of that great golden body; what a magnificently proportioned woman!
I caught my breath as she bent to give the tub a rinse, utterly fascinated by the lovely vision. The domed buttocks, so solidly rounded. The tapered thighs and provocatively curving calves. I could almost feel them caressing my fingertips. The scented bathroom seemed close and cramped all of a sudden. As if the tile walls were moving in to stifle me. The sensation was excruciating and I had the impulse to flee. Except that the power of movement was denied me-and instead I just sat there and gave way to an impulse of an entirely different sort, my voice a quavering mumble.
"Sabine? Don't bother. I'll do the tub for you."
"Oh? No need for that, darling."
"Let me ... please...."
"Well, if you really want to." She smiled, an odd light in her eyes, gold flecks glittering out of the brown irises. "I do feel a bit tired; maybe I'll stretch out on the bed and smoke a cigarette. Join me when you're finished, hmm?"
Swaying seductively, she padded away, my gaze following until the last possible moment, mesmerized by the voluptuous ripple of her flesh. Then I took up my task somewhat shakily but with unflagging vim and vigor, working even harder than necessary. After all, I was doing it for my lover, the most important person in my life-serving her even in this menial manner made me feel good. I was demonstrating my devotion by this one voluntary courtesy. Offering concrete proof of my love and loyalty.
And wouldn't she be sweet to me!
Uh-huh. That kind of sweet. It was always a joy to lie back and open my body to Sabine's lips. To the thrill of that incomparable tongue. Like a flicker of fleecy pleasure ballooning into a huge ecstasy-that was how it felt during those nights of sweetness, the nights when that blissfully gentle mood prevailed.
I hoped tonight would be like that. But there was no telling, really, she might be pleased with my labor and still act rough. Not angry, just a bit hard and masculine. Although that wasn't so bad either, I had to admit. Spreading my legs in welcome, yielding to my big strong husband, my man, my lesbian lover....
The thought sent a tremor through me. I hurried, finishing the bathroom chore and then taking time to strip nude and get myself all prettied up and perfumed again before racing out to join her. Once there, though, I came to a teetering halt and stood stock-still, awed by the sight of her on the bed. She lay in languid repose, her head propped against both pillows, a thin wisp of smoke spiraling upward from the tip of the cigarette between her long fingers. The ash-blonde hair had been loosened and fluffed out; other than that, she had made no change since leaving the bathroom. That remarkable body of hers was still gloriously naked.
Her eyelids drooped. From under the fan-shaped shadows of her lashes, she saw me come in but did nothing to acknowledge it. Not a muscle so much as twitched. Only the rising smoke stirred, and even that seemed sluggish as the cigarette went unpuffed. And such a lazy posture, so un-like her! One thigh angled from the bed slightly, her scarlet-tipped foot arching to keep the sole from slipping on the spread. The other leg extended to its full exquisite length, the soft calf-contour flattening delicately-everything languorously relaxed, almost listless.
I'll at ease, I settled upon the edge of the bed, puzzled by her apparent indifference. I remained like that, rigid, trying to quell my nervousness. It was too much, though, and at last I had to break the overwhelming silence.
"You-you're not asleep, are you?"
She took a drag on the cigarette. "Not quite. But you sure took long enough in there. What's the matter, did I leave a ring of dirt in the tub?"
"Silly...." I grinned. "No, I just stayed to do a little personal primping. Added a touch of perfume, too."
"That's nice."
Beyond that, she indicated no interest in my coquettish revelation. Somewhat piqued, I waved one scent-redolent wrist in front of her nose, eager for a more positive response but feeling rather childish about my effort to get it-too clumsy, too obviously flirtatious.
"Sabine? You like?"
She sniffed. "Not bad." Then, amused but with a faint trace of sarcasm, "Little rascal. What are you trying to do, seduce me?"
My cheeks grew hot. "I-I guess so. That's what I was thinking about in the bathroom. No crime, is it?"
"No crime. Oh, by the way, it was sweet of you to clean up after me. Thanks, dear, I appreciate that."
"No. Don't thank me."
"But why not? You must have worked hard in there. For a few minutes, at least. So why shouldn't I thank you for it?"
"Well, uh, I did it for you-but only because I wanted to, because I wanted to help. And that doesn't require any thanks. I was just being a dutiful wife."
"Oh. And now you're a sexy wife, hmm?" She took a final drag and butted the cigarette out in the ashtray, a curl of smoke oozing slowly from her nostrils. "Is that what you're saying?"
"Uh-huh. The sexiest. And then some. Sexy as a wife can get, I guess. You'll see. Just try me, won't you? Please?"
The tail-end of the smoke dissipated. I waited, hanging in suspense, my pulses pounding madly. And still she tarried, exasperatingly cool and calm, quite motionless. Just like before. With one leg drawn up and the other extended. Exactly as she had been when I came out of the bathroom. Only the cigarette was missing. Even her fringed eyelids had lapsed into that same droopy somnolence. Until I could bear it no longer.
"Sabine?"
"Umm...."
"Please?"
"Little nympho. Just can't get enough, can you? But I'm bored with that game now."
"Game? What game? What do you mean?"
"You know. The husband and wife thing. Honey bunch, I'm not a man and you're not my wife."
"I-I don't understand."
"Listen, then. Look at me. See this body? It's a woman's body, not a man's. Soft. All woman, all soft curves. Soft tits, soft cunt, soft ass. I'm a woman, right? For a while we acted like husband and wife, sure, but it was only for kicks. Just a game. Well, those kicks are kind of dull now, the game is worn out and I just don't care to play any more. Okay, kiddo? Just let me be a woman."
"Oh. I guess that means you won't want to ... uh...."
"Hmm? Speak up."
"You're not even going to fuck me any more? Not ever?"
"I didn't say that. I just said you can stop pretending you're my wife, that's all. Anything else, well, we'll see."
"Okay. I understand now. So it was just a game...." I pouted wistfully. "Yes, it must have been-you're right about that; strictly make believe, huh? But it was such fun. Isn't there any other game we can play?"
"No. No more games."
"Aw, come on. Please? If I can't be your wife, what can I be? I've got to be something. I don't think I'd have much fun just being myself again." Then, with a giggle, "Hey wait, how about this for a new slant? Remember how I rinsed the tub out for you? Just like a servant girl. So why can't I be your little maid, huh?" Still giggling, I leaped up from the bed and dropped into a deep curtsy, sinking almost to my knees. "See? I'm at your service, ma'm."
"Hmm. Little maid, eh? You're on the right track, I'll say that for you. No games, though. We don't need them. You already are yourself, Jody-might as well face it. This is the real you, the one who loves me and needs me and begs to serve me. And it isn't a game, so quit bowing and come back up here where you belong. Because you belong to me now; how about that for a new slant? You're mine now, darling, you're my slave, my own little slave girl."
"Your-your slave?"
"My slave."
I rose and returned to my place on the bed in dubious thought, chewing my lip reflectively. Then the idea struck and I felt a spark of fresh excitement. Of course! Wasn't this just the beginning of a new game? Sabine had become bored with the old one; this was another invention. But saying so right out loud would only have spoiled the fun-we couldn't call it a game, could we? No indeed, it had to start smoothly and without any argument, just like when we first pretended to be married. What a lark!
"Yes. It's true. I'm your slave."
"I own you."
"You own me. What can I do for you? Anything. Just name it and I'll obey. Your wish is my command."
"Look at me. At my body. Look! The body of a woman. But you've never treated it like that, have you? Look!"
My eyes goggled as she parted her shapely legs. It was beautiful, that part of her, beautiful and inviting. I felt the pit of my belly go weak, dragging, tugging, turning that same part of me into something in dire need of attention. And yet I couldn't heed that now, not with this more important assignment to fulfill. Oh yes, there was a definite feeling of slavishness in me. Even though it was all a game. And even if the game had veered off in a direction I hadn't quite bargained for.
"Come closer, little slave."
Shivering, I crouched and bent my head, praying only that all my past experience would stand me in good stead. If ever a girl wanted to do a perfect job! But already there were great blank places in my mind, blanks I'd just never overcome. The lame excuse rose to my lips-I don't know how-and I tasted those half-true words, all but spitting them out aloud. And then, miraculously, as though she had read my mind and seen the blank spots, Sabine chuckled and came to my rescue:
"I'd better coach you first, my cunt needs more than just a lick and a promise, you know? Good cuntlappers are few and far between-and aside from practice, there's nothing like a little firm guidance to begin with. I'll give you a few pointers on how to please me. So you'll catch on quick and feel more confident, okay? It's the kind of thing your old Aunt Allegra buddy couldn't teach you. And it's something a slave has to learn. Any slave of mine, especially." She touched herself intimately. "So look now-and try to concentrate; don't wander, you hear? You're a smart kid, I shouldn't have to tell you this more than once. Listen...."
And as I breathed her sex-odor and watched raptly, she went through a detailed explanation, using her fingers to demonstrate more graphically the exact meaning of her verbal instructions. The discourse had a certain unexpected charm, strangely whimsical, swerving back and forth between lurid gutter language and scientific textbook terminology. Strange but effectively eloquent nonetheless, and I had never been more fascinated. I kept licking my lips and waiting for permission to do more. Ever so much more! Ever so much better, too. Nothing like a little firm guidance, sure enough; who would have dreamed that the simple sucking of a woman's cunt could be so complicated?
Permission came at last, couched in terms of command, and I sank my mouth into the moist musk-tinged softness with a frenzy far removed from the playing of games. It was my turn now, my turn to show what I had learned. Let me please her, let me please this big beautiful lesbian whose power over me had suddenly become absolute. Yes, that was it, my sole reason for being here, my one and only reason for existence. To please. To please my mistress, to offer her all the pleasure that my newly taught lips and tongue could provide. To be her slave, to worship her, to remain conscious of her ecstasy even as I sought my own, losing myself in the encompassing rapture of those voluptuously molded thighs....
A moan sounded. Her limbs tightened. The great sun-bronzed body quivered, driving me to a peak of erotic abandon. And then I was lost, beyond instructions, aware only of an uncontrollable desire to plunge into the very depths of this wondrous delight, smearing my face in the flow of hot sensuality. There were, sharp claws ripping away inside my body, such exciting claws! And wasn't it odd how they clutched and squeezed in the same rhythm that my mouth worked on the succulent cunt-flesh? As though the two-so far apart-had something in common. Which they did, of course-the lesbian thrill resulting from a lesbian act .performed by a lesbian on a lesbian. Performed without guilt, naturally-that was what made it so lesbian. One big all-inclusive orgasm. Enough for both of us. More than enough, the way it kept going on and on and on, a bottomless spring, a magic grail brimming over again an instant after it was emptied.
15
Every cup must empty sooner or later, though, and ours reached that point at last. Somewhat reluctantly, I left the sweet embrace of Sabine's legs and stretched out alongside her, consoled only by the thought that we might begin all over again after she took a little catnap. But there was no sign of her dozing off; on the contrary, she seemed wide-awake-and with something on her mind, apparently, something serious enough to show in her expression even as I performed my cigarette lighting duties.
Then, after a deep drag, you're okay in my book. Given half a chance, I think the two of us could really fall in love, you know? I mean all the way."
"Who needs half a chance? I'm already there."
"Too soon, too soon. Besides, what's the use of falling in love if we're only going to have to say good-bye?"
"Oh...."
"Tough, huh?"
"Well, we've still got some time together. I hope. There must be. Allegra hasn't mentioned a word about leaving-not to me, that's for sure. Sabine? There's time yet, isn't there?"
"Not as much as you think. And it isn't up to Allegra any more, at least not this little crisis we're facing. I've got Hildegarde on my back now. Plus a few assorted guests...."
"Crisis? Oh. I'm beginning to get the message. But-but how can you talk of love and still want me to go to bed with other women?"
"Hmph! You just don't understand, do you? Those women aren't important; it's got nothing to do with the way you and I feel about each other. Changing partners even adds a bit of spice to the romance-although that's not my reason for asking you, I'll admit. Anyway, if you'd just try it for one night...." Her hand patted my bottom sharply, almost a spanking gesture. "You'll see. Next day we'd be closer than ever. And nobody could call you a party-pooper."
"Party-pooper. Is that what they're calling me? No wonder you're upset. Tell me something-about what you just said-what's your reason for pushing so hard? Will you lose your job here if I don't put out for the guests?"
"My job?-oh shit, don't let that worry you, my job is secure no matter what. And it's more than just a job, it's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It's my whole future."
"I-I'm confused now. You still haven't told me-"
"Honey lamb, it's your future, too, is that reason enough? Okay, don't look so puzzled, I'm not gazing into a crystal ball. It's about time you got more than a vague answer, huh? Poor baby. I won't leave you with that pretty little mouth hanging open, never fear. Better shut it tight, though, before the flies come buzzing around. Just get yourself settled, this could be a long story. Maybe kind of mixed up, too-I'm not even sure where to begin. Oh well...."
I got settled. The story was mixed up, all right, mostly bits and pieces, interrupted at random intervals by a puff on the cigarette and a pat on the fanny. Love-pats now-no swat, no sting-delightful but somewhat distracting, a hazard to any naked-ass young lady's concentration. Although I did manage to ignore them and listen in a lady-like manner, fitting the delicate jigsaw together and keeping my indelicate physical responses down to a bare minimum. No mean feat, considering the circumstances.
The key piece to Sabine's story-puzzle took the joy out of the mystery of Flamingo Towers, turning its melodramatic whispers into something crass. Bold and brassy as the clash of cymbals. Oh, it wasn't all that bad perhaps, just disappointing to someone like myself, a kid who had learned to look upon great wealth with a certain reverence, respecting the wealthy from a worshipful distance. As though their money came over on the Mayflower and was handed down from one generation to the next. As though money meant nothing to the rich and everything to the poor. Only it wasn't like that at all, of course, especially not here in this grand mansion on this grand estate. Or anywhere else, quite -likely-but that was just too harsh a fact to cope with at one sitting; bad enough to hear it about one blueblood, much less the aristocracy of half the world.
Hildegarde's guests were all involved in the making of money-stocks, bonds, real estate and such-anything to turn a profit. Including oil wells and mining properties, naturally. Some were smart businesswomen, others had smart business-type husbands-or brilliant astrologers maybe!-but all of them came to the twice-a-year parties with some choice bit of financial inside information for the ear of their hostess, thus assuring themselves of a much-treasured invitation to the next such affair. Where else could a discreet lesbian behave scandalously and-still come away unscathed? Where could a virtuous stockbroker's wife have her gay fling and still remain above reproach? Where could a woman in the public eye bring her latest girl friend without fear of a lurking photographer nearby-oh yes, there were some cute young ones, too-and what rich old dyke was too modest to show off her new conquest? All for a little stock-tip, strictly confidential.
That was the present setup, a pattern that had developed slowly and safely, a thing of long standing. Some years ago, Sabine had been lucky enough to do the mistress a big favor and was now her permanent "companion" rather than a servant-the general overseer who kept the place running and could always manage to provide fresh ideas and/or material when the excitement slacked off. A position of great power and even greater rewards, as it turned out-quite aside from the more obvious fringe benefits!-since she was also the chief beneficiary in Hildegarde's will and would some day inherit the entire estate. Along with the privilege of preserving the "Party" tradition and dabbling in high finance herself, no doubt.
That stunned me. Sabine-my Sabine-an heiress? I offered no undue comment, though, letting her go on and waiting for the deep dark plot to unfold. I could see her future, the pot of gold at rainbow's end, sure enough, but what about mine? I still didn't have any prospect of even a pot to pee in. But that too was among the bits and pieces: what if she could arrange to prolong my stay indefinitely? It would mean entertaining the guests once in a while, but that would be my only real duty in this life of luxury. The rest would be up to me-"like now, for instance"-extending that familiar bare-ass caress down and under to graze my cunt with a fingertip-"all fun and games!" And as long as I got along so well with Fluff too....
Fingertip or not, I couldn't let that pass without venturing an opinion. I might not mind becoming a resident whore for the party guests, especially if it got me out of Allegra's clutches-or would it?-but there was another objection to consider, a possibility that simply stuck in my craw.
"I don't want to be like Fluff, though. A slave girl all the time, you know? Sorry, but I'm just not that much of a slave."
"Of course not. You could never be. Fluff isn't as clever as you are, she's not very bright at all. And who knows?-maybe that's a lucky break in this upside-down world of ours. Fluff is more like a toy than a real human being. She'll never grow up.
She's a doll who cries toy, tears when that chubby ass of hers is spanked. And she feels toy emotions. People like Fluff are never really hurt by life, it's all a party, just one great big party. She could assume a new personality to suit any new lover-even someone nasty-and the world would still be all sunshine for her. But she's such a lovable little imp, so good-natured, it just wouldn't be fair to try to change her, not one hair on that empty Kewpie-doll head."
"And me? Sabine, aren't you trying to change me?"
"You noticed, eh?" She grinned. "Guilty as charged. Only you might as well hear the whole tiling. I'm supposed to be breaking you in for Allegra, training you as a slave to take home with her. But that got silly after a while; she started sniffing up my skirts and turned out to be the submissive type herself-wouldn't know what to do with a slave if one crawled into bed with her. Sexy bitch, though, always hot to trot; no wonder she went right to work on you in the beginning. Like you told me, remember? So I went to work on her the same way, only better. Taught her a few tricks and then handed her over to Hildegarde. Only she still comes sniffing around every now and then, chasing after me with her tongue hanging out."
"Wow! I never would have figured it. Does she still expect to take me home all trained and ready to serve her?"
"Probably not. She hasn't mentioned it lately. Anyway, the two of you may not be going home at all. Allegra is dying to stay. And if I can just get you into the proper spirit, well...."
"Oh, that's right, you're still training me, huh?"
"Sure. But for myself now, nobody else. As my slave first, but only until we learn to work together as a team. After that I'll be grooming you for something quite different. How'd you like to have my job some day? Second in command. And next in line to inherit the estate and all the goodies that go with it. Cute little slave girls to rock you to sleep on your powder-puff bed, all the pretty little darlings you can-"
"Sabine!"
"Kind of gets you, doesn't it?"
"I-I can't breathe."
"I know how you feel. Didn't it happen to me?"
"If it's a dream, don't wake me up."
"It's no dream, kid. Here, I'll prove it."
"Ouch! I'm awake. Wide-awake and at your service. And I need the practice, too, you said so yourself. Practice makes perfect. So if you can spare that beautiful cunt of yours...." ' "Not yet. Don't worry, you'll get your chance. Just like Allegra got hers. Only she needed more practice than you ever will. Clumsy bitch. Big tongue but no sensitivity, you know?"
"How is she now?"
"Still learning, I guess. Still practicing. And probably getting her ass whipped, too. Hildegarde isn't as patient as I am. Believes in strict discipline. Hey, I just had a lovely thought-since you're so interested, why not try her yourself? Be a good project for you, make Allegra suck your cunt, turn the tables on her."
"You-you think I could?"
"I don't see why not. Just set your mind to it, honey, what have you got to lose? Besides, she's done it before, the idea won't exactly be new to her-so that shouldn't be any obstacle. And that's half the battle, usually."
"Well ... yes, but it was so long ago. In the beginning, when she was trying to get me interested in that sort of thing. She only did it a few times. After she taught me how to suck her off, the selfish bitch stopped doing it to me. She used to lie there and jam my face into her cunt and wrap her fat legs around my head and shake and shiver and just have herself a ball."
"Hmm. I'll bet that made you mad, huh?"
"Kind of. The way she acted so goddam sneaky about it. Taking advantage of
"Okay. So go to work on her. I'm sure you can figure out how to handle a sexy old bitch who goes for young girls. You ought to have her eating out of your hand in no time. And I don't mean just your hand, baby, if you read me correctly. I'd say your Aunt Allegra owes you a good cuntlapping. Put the pressure on, get what's coming to you, shove it into her mouth and make her like it."
"Oooh! That gets me hot."
"What does? The thought of your aunt going down on-"
"Not that. It's you. The way you talk, Sabine, that's what does it. I love hearing you get fierce and uppity and-oh, you know what I mean. It really turns me on."
"It better. Because I need you turned on. So here's my cunt, you hot little cuntlapper, here it is-just waiting for you. Get busy or I'll whomp your ass until-"
"N-no. You won't have to."
"Uh-huh. Good girl."
Persuasion wasn't necessary. I buried my face in the silky fragrance, my tongue exploring, seeking as; though to satisfy a craving of its own. While the secret flesh blossomed like a hothouse flower, thriving upon the sustenance of my kiss; ah yes, I had learned my lessons well. The caresses of my mouth were profuse and complex, and yet I lavished them with a flair that seemed almost natural. I knew how, all right. So well that I couldn't help but feel a disquieting touch of astonishment. Had I always known how?
A tinkling noise impinged momentarily, the telephone ringing on the bedside table, but Sabine picked it up and I went right on sucking her cunt. She stroked the top of my head in commendation. Then, slowly, languidly, she rolled over on her stomach. I didn't know why. To rest comfortably on her elbows, perhaps, and talk into the phone without disturbing me, the direction of her voice making it sound quite different now. Not distant enough, though, and I had no desire to hear the details of her conversation with Hildegarde, no interest at all in such matters. I busied myself with this new territory that had opened up for me, covering the smoothly rounded softness with a thousand worshipful suck-kisses.
After a while Sabine stroked my head again, reaching down .behind her back to do it. And still the talk continued up there, talk that I simply didn't care to hear, and I started nuzzling between her firm-fleshed buttocks in hopes of shutting out the distraction. Only it penetrated just the same, the sound of her voice, the sound and its terrible meaning. Were they talking about me? Was she promising my cooperation at tomorrow's orgy? So soon?
I shuddered, hating her at that moment, hating her for taking me for granted like that. Shame and confusion seeped into my blood. And anger. Bitter anger-as I listened now, listening to her smug voice practically selling my body. Until I could stand it no longer. And then I slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom and scooped up my clothes, not even pausing to put them on till I was out in the corridor with the door safely shut behind me.
16
My anger didn't last very long. It was gone completely when Sabine dropped in on me the next day. Oddly enough, she seemed only mildly irritated at my having run out on her, making no attempt to press the issue as I mumbled an incoherent apology. I couldn't get her to join me when I sat down on the bed, though, she just stood there leaning against the wall, a faint smile on her lips. Just inside the door, no farther than that-as if she hadn't quite made up her mind yet....
"I missed you, kid. Did you miss me?"
"You know I did."
"Yeah? Glad to-hear it. What did you miss most?"
"All of you. Everything. Your beautiful face, your beautiful body. I missed you, every bit of you."
"Yeah. I'll bet. You missed my cunt." The word came out in a throaty growl, sounding lewd enough to be downright lurid. Almost dirty.
But she was only teasing me, I realized, it must have been her way of getting even for last night. Which she had every right to do, of course. And if I played along and catered to her whim, it would probably be a prelude to something a lot nicer.
"I did, I did, I missed your cunt. Your beautiful cunt. I only wish you'd let me show you how much."
"Oh? What would you do, baby?"
"I'd kiss it. Kiss your beautiful cunt. Kisss...."
"No suckie?"
"Suck, yes, suck your cunt. Just let me."
"A little tongue too, maybe?"
"All of it, all the tongue I've got. And then some."
"Hmm. you sound like a real cunt lapper."
"Anything. Everything. Whatever you want."
"Why so prissy all of a sudden? What's the matter, you ashamed to say you're a cuntlapper?"
"Ashamed? No. Never. I'm a cuntlapper. Your cuntlapper. And if you'd just give me your beautiful cunt to lap...."
"I'm thinking about it. Yeah. Cuntlapper. But I might want more than that. What else you got to offer?"
"I-I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you with my face. I'll chew your tits, your big beautiful tits. And your ass, too, I'll kiss your ass, I'll kiss your beautiful ass, okay?"
"My ass, eh? It's about time you got around to that. You barely got started on it last night. Are you a good ass-licker, Jody?"
"For you I'll be the best. Let me show you, that's all I ask, let me lick your ass, then you'll see. You'll really see what a good ass-licker I am."
"I like that. You're tempting me, kid."
"Look. I'm licking my lips. Ahhh. See? I'm thinking about your ass and licking my lips ... ahhh...."
"Oooh! You'll have my asshole squirming in a minute. That pink tongue of yours...."
"It's a hot tongue. I'll fuck you with it, fuck you in the ass-then you'll squirm! I'll make you come like crazy just sucking your asshole. You'll see. Just let me. Let me make up for yesterday. Do I have to go down on my knees and beg you?"
The thought provoked the action. I jumped from the bed, all but tripping over my own feet in my eagerness to get to her, sprawling momentarily and then scrambling into a kneeling position. From there I peered up fervently, my head tilted back. A shiver ran the length of my spine; her eyes were staring down with almost frozen indifference, piercing me with their icy glitter. I swung my head forward, unable to look, bowing until my face struck her knees.
The skin felt warm, much warmer than that cold stare, and I pressed my lips to it imploringly. My kiss lingered, gaining intensity as I listened breathlessly but heard no rebuke. I began kissing her thighs then, experimenting a little, still watching for some sign of objection. None came, though, and pretty soon I got reckless enough to poke my head up inside the hem of her skirt. Inside the impeding but reassuringly limp closure of her limbs....
"Hey! You getting ideas down there?"
Still no outright veto, I figured, and even more promising was the hint of mockery in her voice, a rather bantering tone, scornful but nonetheless encouraging. I kissed upward, sniffing the ever-thickening scent deliriously, overwhelmed to the point of intoxication as my flushed cheeks wriggled against the sunbronzed and delectably firm flesh. My mouth glided upward in mounting fervor, enticed by the convergent ridges of muscle beneath the velvet-textured skin, ridges that all but signaled the way. Until I came to the end, the convergence itself, the source of that erotic woman-smell.
No, not quite the end. There was a barrier to pass first, the snugly stretched fabric of her panties, flimsy and fragile but still very much an obstruction. Too tight to bypass, to precious to tear, so sheer and snug that I could feel the tiny hairs popping through to tickle my lips. Almost gluttonously, I engulfed it in an open-mouthed kiss, a salivating suck that brought a return succulence from within and turned the pantycrotch sopping wet.
I was close now, agonizingly close, wallowing in the cunt-smell and the cunt-taste but still short of the real thing. Cunt. So near and yet so far! It seemed to be calling out to me, parting its hidden lips to demand a more intimate attention, a challenge that I found irresistibly seductive. I answered it with my hands-caution giving way to courage born of need-reaching up hopefully to attack the waistband with tremulous fingers, tugging....
"Forget it, kid."
"Oh! Please?"
"It'll keep. I haven't got time now."
"Aw ... not even a minute?"
"Oh shit, what could you do in a minute. Suck my cunt and lick my ass and fuck me with your face? Not a chance. It's got to be slow and sweet-like I taught you, remember? Ta-ta, darling, gotta go now. Work to do. Busy, busy, busy."
One sidelong step carried her out of range. Still kneeling but now thrown abruptly off balance, I sagged helplessly and dissolved to a pulp on the floor, all my inner turmoil erupting in a single sob of frustration. The door opened and then closed behind the vanishing click of her heels, leaving me there like that, alone, a blob of unrequited love. So terribly alone....
Later in the day, Fluff came by unexpectedly alleviating my loneliness more than somewhat-a lovely little blonde "toy" in the narrowest of halters and the briefest of miniskirts. Our first time together since the night on the round bed. We gazed at each other in silence, cherishing the sweetness of the moment as she slowly shortened the distance between us. Her sensuous lips were moist and shiny glistening with the dew of desire, utterly fascinating to look at. Then my vision blurred as her mouth tilted up to meet mine. As our contact was sealed, the breath seemed to puff out of her lungs, finding no exit except through my parted lips, nowhere to go but into my mouth. We melted and blended to an organic entity like that-as if the two of us could breathe the same air and share the same tongue and generate the same girl-girl thrill....
"Whew!" She broke free. "Let's not start that."
"Quitter. What's the matter?"
"Sex in the afternoon. No, thanks."
"So call it a siesta. Come on. You've showed off your outfit; it's cute and I love it-now let's strip and finish that kiss in bed, okay?"
"You really like it?" Posing prettily, she ignored my blunt proposal and performed a jaunty pirouette. "Makes me look like a grade-school brat, huh?"
"You don't need clothes for that, you're always a brat. Anyway, what are you doing with a skirt on in the middle of the day? If a scrap of cloth that short can be called a skirt."
"Hildegarde's idea. Short skirt and fancy panties. See the ruffles? All white, fancy but innocent. It's supposed to appeal to the motherly old biddies, the type that goes around sniffing the seats on little bicycles, you know? Outfit like this gives 'em a cheap hard-on."
"Ugh. Don't be vulgar."
"Look who's talking. Anybody who calls sex a siesta...."
Her comparison scarcely made sense, awakening me to the fact that I was trying to reason with a toy doll, an exasperating if not impossible endeavor. There had to be an easier way to get through to this brainless bundle of fluff.
"Okay, forget the siesta. But I'm still getting undressed myself-if you don't mind. I was just picking out which bikini to wear when you knocked. The pool is practically deserted today, just right for a nice quiet swim. Want to come along?"
"Nope. There's no sun.
That was true enough, the day was hot but hazy, not exactly the best swimming weather-nor had I given it much thought, really-but a little physical flaunting of flesh seemed like a wise course here. Naked flesh, designed by nature to do what straightforward persuasion couldn't. Or at least I hoped so. And I bared my body in a hurry, putting the points of interest on more leisurely display only in my hesitant fuss over the choice of swimwear. All spuriously casual, of course, posturing like a high-priced TV whore and confronting my pop-eyed little opponent with a point-by-point 'argument more suited to this particular debate.
I figured it was just about over. But she crossed me up, somehow-unpredictable imp!-backtracking to the subject of the party guests and boring me with her own uninspired version of the havoc created by my deplorable absence. Carrying out Hildegarde's orders, no doubt, the apparent purpose of this afternoon visit. Unless that was just a pretext, her only legitimate excuse for being here in broad daylight. But who could tell? What makes a toy mind tick ? I just went on pawing through my open bikini drawer and giving her something nice to focus on as the mainspring ran down....
"Well? Jody? What do you think?"
"No comment."
"Oh, you. No comment. You make me so mad!"
I shrugged, bending over to untangle a bra-top cord and turning my back on her, a rather deliberate snub. And before I realized what she was doing, her hand lashed out and nailed me. Right smack on my bare ass-a light slap, but swift enough tp catch me off guard. And just hard enough to rate a yelp.
"Ouch!" I whirled around, gripped by a wild urge to strike back. To kick the shit out of her. Or at least toss her over my knee and give her a taste of her own medicine, the fresh kid!
But then I saw her face and recognized the truth-it was exactly what she wanted me to do. Spank her-So obvious! That calmed me down a bit, releasing the tension, channeling my thoughts away from vengeful violence. Instead, deliciously, a brand-new excitement stirred to life inside me, part sexual and part something else, something new and different and unknown....
"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Don't ever try that again, Fluff."
"N-no ... never...."
I glared. The kid hung her head. Then her face tilted back up and our eyes locked, mine austere and hers frightened. And a little wistful, too. Half-woman-and half bitch that was how she impressed me, and I reached out and hugged her impetuously, cradling the pathetic little body to my bosom like a baby. Until I felt a responsive quiver run through her, too familiar to deny, too familiarly erotic to be anything but the reaction of someone like myself. And I had to speak up and say so, an epithet for both of us.
"Hot little cunt!"
"Hmm? What?"
But I was already marching to the bed and hauling her into position, draping her small body over my knee even before my lap was properly formed to receive it. But I managed quite nicely an instant later, binding her legs with mine and yanking down those ridiculous panties, glad to learn that she didn't look so tiny from that angle. Helpless maybe, but well-padded; oh shit, if ever an ass was made to be spanked....
I let her have it. She squirmed and squealed, but I showed no mercy, laying it on hot and heavy until the dimpled cheeks turned color and the palm of my hand began to smart. And still I added a few more good ones before my grasp went lax. and let her slip to the floor. She sank slowly, submissively, whimpering and then at last peering up at me with two big tears in her eyes. But she didn't seem at all unhappy, despite the drippy hot-green emeralds. Especially when she caught my hand and pressed her lips to the tender place, the red spot in the middle of my palm.
It was a sweet kiss, but hardly enough to satisfy me, and I clutched her face like that and pulled it close, taking my hand away and patting myself in a gesture that could only have been called obscene. With a voice to match. Obscene! Me. And I loved it.
"Here. To me. Move it, kid. Suck my cunt!"
"Mmm?"
"Do me some good, you little cuntlapper, or I'll blister your ass two shades redder. And a lot hotter. Or maybe you'd like me to kick the shit out of you, huh?"
17
The haze had lifted, but the heat remained rather oppressive, hardly the night to be poring over musty old books. Wearily-not tired, just depressed-I trudged back from the library with my ears sharply cocked, wondering why the corridors were so quiet. Any other night at this hour I would have been trying to shut out the noises, the muffled sighs and hysterical moans, or perhaps a nerve-grating giggle that might rise to an ear-splitting shriek.
Not tonight, though. The place was like a tomb. No muttered curses, no cries of ecstasy, not even a creaking bedspring. It scared me a little until I entered my own room, then the festive sounds from the open window explained the sad silence elsewhere. Sounds of music and laughter-obviously a night swimming party with all the trimmings, even records or tapes playing over a loudspeaker system. And plenty of booze, naturally, I could hear the ice clinking in the glasses all the way up here.
I moved to the window and took a peek, gulping in surprise and stunned into instant rigidity as my eyes drank in the sight. There was a party going on, sure enough, a great big one, a whole houseful of women in and around the pool. All naked. Even under that romantically dim lighting, their bodies gleamed and glistened and seemed to multiply with every passing minute. I had never seen so much naked female flesh. Naked lesbian flesh. I crossed my fingers and prayed never to see it again.
And yet I couldn't turn away from the spectacle. It wasn't exactly an orgy, at least not at this stage. The trend was toward talk rather than action-maintaining a semblance of decorum despite the wholesale nudity-although the talk itself seemed to represent something to come, a kind of early spadework for the later fun. With much simpering and ogling, alliances were being formed and treaties signed-all preparation for the main event, the big battle in the making. Or so it appeared from up here. Even the recognizable couples were apparently on the verge of intermingling, some breaking up to circulate in opposite directions among the body-strewn mats and blankets on the concrete apron. The customary canvas deck-chairs were conspicuously absent, leaving that much more room for the interplay at ground level. And fostering a certain intimacy, of course, with no support for a lazy body except perhaps another lazy body, all quite cozy in their laziness.
I spotted Fluff at the shallow end of the pool, evidently involved with some dumpy woman, a stranger to me. They were splashing each other merrily, almost in rhythm to the music. Until the woman made a lunge and brought the sport to a halt. Their bodies writhed in a contorted embrace. A moment later someone joined them, just another nude female, anonymous but not unwelcome, and soon the three were entwined in the churned-up water. I wondered if the kid's ass was still red from this afternoon. My palm sure smarted. And now, unaccountably, my cunt began to itch a little in memory of that well-trained tongue. Well, not so unaccountably maybe, considering the passage of time since then. A healthy young girl like myself had a right to feel sexy again.
But I didn't want to get that way in this somewhat tenuous situation of mine-no relief tonight-and my eyes left the cute little sexpot and continued the general survey. I saw my Aunt Allegra dancing with a huge dark-haired girl. Anyway, it looked like dancing-although they were actually just swaying to the beat and grinding their naked bodies together. The girl's hands were low on Allegra's hips, almost cupping her asscheeks. And my aunt's lips were nuzzling the tall creature's neck. While they swayed dreamily and rubbed up against one another, breast to breast and belly to belly, intermeshing thick thighs every now and then to get in a bit of vertical fucking.
From my dark sanctuary, I couldn't help envying them, the whole dam bunch down there, about to make mad passionate lust-type love out under the starry sky. What would it be like to feel myself naked to the night like that? Naked and unashamed, the faint breeze dabbing here and there while a naked lover covered my quivering flesh with her own. With so much sex in the atmosphere, I was becoming more and more aware of my own empathy with the crowd. The excitement I felt was part of it, the strange sensation of being one with this erotically oriented gathering-the feeling was there, almost tangible, dragging at my loins.
I ran my hands over my breasts, finding them tense and swollen, aching for attention. My mind was worn out from the long day; my body should have been in the same state, especially after expending so much energy on that chubby ass. And into that sucking mouth. But no, every nerve and fiber of my flesh was painfully alert. I shut my eyes. But there was no peace. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. I forced myself to relax and then tried touching intimate flesh again. But there was still no peace.
With my eyes closed, even the fun was gone. I opened them, spotting Allegra once more, all but crushed lifeless in the big dark-haired girl's embrace now. Pretty disgusting. But my aunt wasn't fighting to break loose-gasping for breath, no doubt, but suffering without a struggle. And the expression on that oversized creature's face was one of utter rapture. Disgusting indeed, only it simply didn't affect my shaky insides that way; the impatience was still creeping through my veins, demanding release from the tension. I couldn't resist-the tyranny of my own body. It was taking control, urging, driving, subjugating my reluctant brain to its dictatorship. But my soul-or whatever!-still had some last-ditch strength left, and I swung away from the window to stare at myself in the mirror. I had to strike a match to get a good look, not quite brave enough to turn on a lamp and let my suddenly bright window designate the exact location of the unpopular party-pooper.
The match worked fine, destroying a few girlish illusions. My look of innocence had changed. Oh sure, I was still young and pretty. No lines or wrinkles or anything like that, at least none that showed on my skin. But they were inside me-scars on my soul, maybe-and I could recognize the subtle change they had wrought. A taint of depravity peeped from my eyes.
About time! And wasn't it wonderful? Lots of depravity and no goddam guilt; wasn't that the route to my rainbow's end? If the throne of Flamingo Towers was up for grabs, why not start grabbing right now? Nobody ever won a powderpuff bed by default. Or with a charred hand, either-and I ditched the match fast and kept my fingers intact. I'd need them tonight. The sophisticated one, especially, the all-important diddle finger. Fuck-finger. I'd need that one to began taming my bitchy aunt. A finger up that fat ass would make her hop, sure enough, a fine beginning....
Eager for the fray now, I shed my sweaty clothes and slipped on a robe. Then, with a throbbing heart, I raced down the stairs and out to the pool. A flip sent the robe flying-and my naked body seemed to be transformed into some kind of forbidden fruit, delicious but difficult to attain. Hands reached, fondling and squeezing and appraising. Lips touched my skin, tasting my sweetness and letting me know that I was appreciated but no longer forbidden.
In the short span of time since I had peeked out the window, couples and trios had fused into clusters. Like atoms forming molecular structures. I found myself in the middle of a large one, the nucleus practically. But one hand was stronger than the others, pinching a little and then pulling hard. I recognized its power and was delighted to be singled out like that, getting untangled quickly and letting myself be led to a more private comer. Even in the welter of nude flesh, she was still wearing heels, a veritable tower of strength-my Sabine....
"Glad you could make it, kid."
"I'm glad to be here."
"Yeah...." She hauled me down upon a mat, her throaty voice fierce in my ear. "This is where you belong, you hot little cunt Right here with me. Like thisss...."
"Oh. Yes. I'm your hot little cuntlapper."
"You'd better be."
And I was, too, a hot little cuntlapper afloat on a luxurious carpet of desire. Even in the delirium that fogged my senses, I knew that my mouth was bestowing satisfaction. And I reveled in the thought, proud to see myself as a good lesbian lover. A strange sort of pride, perhaps, since my performance was one of total subservience, and yet I was gratified by the knowledge that my payment for the well-learned lesson would be more than adequate.
I didn't hear her speak the words aloud. The response of her flesh told me everything. Those vibrations were only projections of my own. The flowering bud of her passion was achieving full bloom because of me. And the glory of her final spasmodic clutch was like a garland conferred upon my brow. I received it with honor, sipping the succulence of her climax....
"You darling. Darling girl."
"Mmm?"
"We really could fail in love." She sat up and smiled, glancing around. "But this is no time to get sentimental, huh? Come on, let's take a dip." Rising, she kicked her shoes off and stretched contentedly, moving sleepily until her body hit the water.
I followed her, plunging deep, shuddering in ecstasy as she seized me and duplicated that first underwater kiss. But the pool was too crowded for a love like ours, and I trailed her up the ladder and back to our mat, close enough to see every glistening jewel of moisture trickle down her flawless skin. She plucked two towels from a convenient pile, tossing one to me and starting on her hair with the other, a glorious goddess in disarray.
My own hair was dripping wet, very much in need of the. towel, but I had already begun juggling the priorities in this new life of mine. I knelt down and dried the liquid droplets from Sabine's feet. Then-one by one-I held her shoes as she pointed her toes and arched each foot in turn and stepped into them.
"Sweet...." Her murmur warmed me. "Almost too sweet to share with these hyenas."
"It's all one jungle. I've got to learn sometime."
"Smart girl. You'll go far. Just don't rush it."
"Who's rushing? I'm at your service, ma'm."
"Oh? In that case...." She turned, confronting me with the graceful curve of her spine, the arch exaggerated to a hollow at the base and a great billow of her buttocks. "Wanna do my back for me, darting?"
I didn't wait for any clarification, diving right in to familiarize myself with the dark crack of her ass, sliding my face up and down and then testing with a tap of my tongue-tip to make certain of those priorities again. After that it was easy, a labor of love, and I could have stayed there fucking her asshole all night like that. But we both knew there was work to be done-busy, busy, busy-parties to be managed and round beds to be made. And besides, I had a hot-to-trot Aunt Allegra to tame; talk about labors of love!
