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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Summer of Sin part 4 of 4 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Four
“Well, you have been opened fore and aft, and fed upon by some
of the glitterati of Paris,” Rebecca laughed to me the next morning.
“What shall we do for an encore?”
I hugged my pillow. I lay in my bed, defensively. We were
home again. Rebecca was up early, decked out in her broadbrimmed hat
and a bikini. She was lithe, graceful. She tossed back her brown hair
in a carefree way. She gazed down at me. She put her hands on her
hips. She was intent on catching the morning rays of the sun out by her
pool.
“I don’t want to have an encore,” I said testily. I knew she
wished for me to join her. But I was still sore from the night before.
I put my thumb in my mouth. I sucked upon it and closed my eyes.
“Very well,” Rebecca said. I heard her heels click upon the
floor. She turned, left. I drifted gratefully back into sleep.
That afternoon we went shopping downtown. A collection had
been made at the party the night before, in appreciation of our
boldness. I enjoyed spending the money.
“Does this make us--” I asked Rebecca, pausing over the word in
French, not sure how to pronounce it.
“No, darling,” Rebecca assured me. “We are adventurous, but we
are not that,” she said.
“I hoped we were not,” I said, gulping. We were in a hattery.
I put a broadbrimmed straw hat upon my head. It was similar to the one
Rebecca owned. She adjusted it for me. She tied the ribboned chin
strap under my chin.
“You look adorable,” Rebecca said.
A young man put some boxes down in a corner of the store, near
to where we were standing. We both turned and looked at him. He looked
at us. I judged him to be about 19. He smiled. I found his figure
extraordinary and couldn’t help but smile back. He had broad shoulders,
long legs. His hips were trim. There was a bulge in the front of his
tight jeans. He wore a plaid shirt but it was undone down the front,
displaying a muscled chest and a flat belly. He had hair growing up his
belly and over his chest.
“Oh, sorry,” the man said. He put his fingers to his shirt and
began buttoning it. “It’s hot out today,” he said.
The proprietess of the store circled back between the hats to
where we were standing. I blushed, seeing her, for I knew my eyes
betrayed an admiration for her stockboy. She glanced at me, my hat,
which was still her hat, for I had not bought it yet. She looked at her
boy. She was Rebecca’s age. I guessed the young man meant more to her
than just someone who labored over her boxes.
“I hope he is not bothering you?” the woman asked.
“Oh, no,” Rebecca replied. I remained silent. I lowered my
face, letting the hat’s brim cover my eyes. From under it I peered at
the boy’s crotch, surreptitiously. How could he be so big there? Was
it just the tightness of the pants? Or had he become excited, seeing me
in this hat? I felt guilty looking at his thing but I couldn’t help
myself. “We shall take the hat,” Rebecca said.
“Yes, of course,” the proprietess answered. “She looks darling
in it.”
“Thank you,” I whispered from under my hat, still keeping my
eyes lowered, looking at the man’s crotch.
“Anything else?” the proprietess asked.
“No. The hat will be fine,” Rebecca said. “It is how much?”
She began to open her purse.
“You needn’t open that,” the proprietess said. Her hand darted
out and caught at the top of Rebecca’s handbag. Gently she closed it.
Her hand remained atop it, lingering, an unspoken question in the air.
“Oh, but I must pay you,” Rebecca said, and tried to open her
purse again. The proprietesses’ fingers kept it shut.
“There are any number of ways to pay for the necessities of
life,” the proprietess said. “And money is, I think, the most boring of
all.”
“Oh!” Rebecca said, gasping a little. The proprietess forced
her purse closed. She did not try to open it again.
“I live on Bourbon Street,” the proprietess said. “Number 25.
I should be honored if she would wear the hat to tea. Three o’clock,
perhaps? Tommorrow?” She glanced at the boy. “Johnnie, do you have
classes tommorrow?”
“Only in the morning,” Johnnie said.
“Good,” the propreitess said. “You will report to my home
after my classes. Call Maria and have her tend the store.”
“What do you think?” Rebecca asked. She turned to me. I
lifted my eyes. I wondered if I was still blushing. My eyes met the
young man’s and I smiled.
“I want to see all the different things in Paris,” I said
coyly. My eyes dropped to the man’s crotch and then lifted quickly,
guiltily, and looked into the face of the proprietess. She smiled.
“I shall expect you both at three then,” the proprietess said.
“My name is Helene. And yours?” she asked, turning her face to Rebecca.
“Rebecca,” my aunt replied. “And this is Chloe.”
“Ah, a lovely name,” Helene said. “Johnnie, do not put the
boxes there. Put them up front, by the register,” Helene said, turning
to the stockboy. He nodded. He bent over and I watched his buttocks
tense in his jeans. He had a broad back and it spread over the boxes.
His muscled arms scooped them up. He turned, grinned at myself and
Rebecca, and then sauntered through the racks of hats up to the front of
the store.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Rebecca asked Helene. “He is quite
gorgeous.”
Helene nodded. “Yes, I just met him,” she said. “He is from
the Czech Republic. I invited him to claim my address as his own so he
could attend the University. At domestic rates,” she said.
“Oh,” Rebecca said. “That was kind of you.”
“Yes,” Helene said. “Your friend. She is an American?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “She is staying with me just for the
summer.”
“She looks lovely in her new hat,” Helene said.
“Thank you again for letting us have it,” Rebecca said.
“She was made for it,” Helene said. “Tomorrow, then?” she
asked, for the store’s bell rang at the front door, announcing the entry
of a customer.
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca said.
We continued our shopping. I enjoyed my hat. It kept the sun
off my face. I bought a ring with a diamond at another store. We ate a
late lunch and then went home.
That night we went dancing. We did not stay out late. When we
came home we both went gratefully to bed. I was glad to be sleeping by
myself. Yet as I drifted off I wondered about tomorrow’s tea. I felt a
strange excitement. I guessed I might fall asleep tomorrow evening
somewhere else, perhaps at 25 Bourbon Street.
He met us at the door. Rebecca and I were outfitted in short
dresses. My own fitted me like a corset. It hugged my middle. It was
elaborately tied in back. Bra cups covered the lower curves of my
breasts, just barely containing my nipples. The jellied mounds of my
breasts bounced in the cups, their tops bared. The white flesh of my
mounds caught Johnnie’s eyes as he opened Helene’s front door. I
blushed. He smiled. My shoulders were nude, as was my back, down to
where the dress hugged me with corset-like firmness. I was slipped as
if into a vise, bare-legged, bare-shouldered, with my dress crossing
behind the small of my back and covering my flat belly. Twin spaghetti
straps tied behind my neck kept the cups over my breasts from falling
away. A very short skirt, flaring out from the bodice of my dress, just
managed to cover my bottom. I wore no stockings. But I did wear my new
ring that I’d bought, plus a pair of high-heels. Around my ankles, the
same color as my black dress, were two leather ankle straps. On my head
was my straw broad-brimmed hat.
Rebecca was dressed like me. She wore her straw hat. The sun
glared down on us, excusing our skimpy attire. It was summer. We could
dress salaciously without making a scene.
Johnnie, for his part, was nude, save for a pair of Speedoes.
I guessed he must have been swimming or, since his hair was dry, about
to. I wondered at this, for were we not to have tea? I hoped he would
join us. Johnnie grinned. He invited us inside.
We stepped into a parlor. It had ornate decorations. Johnnie
closed the front door behind us. As soon as he had, he put his thumbs
in his swimsuit. He yanked it down off his hips, exposing his cock. He
stepped out of it. He hung it on a peg on the wall.
“I have to wear that to answer the door,” Johnnie said to us.
We blushed. We gazed at his thing. It was huge. It quavered stiffly
on the air, in time to his pulse. “I hope you don’t mind,” Johnnie
said, glancing from us down to his cock. “It’s not my idea, going
nude. Helene insists. ‘Mistress’ actually, is what I call her, in her
home. She takes care of me and I perform various... services,” Johnnie
said. He looked at us. He offered his brawny arm to Rebecca. “May I
escort you to tea?” he asked. “I am no slouch in good-mannered
gallantry, even if I am required to walk around without any clothes on.”
“Yes,” Rebecca said, putting a hand to her lips. “Yes,” she
said again. She let Johnnie take her arm. “Come, Chloe,” she whispered
to me.
Johnnie’s cock bobbed in front of him, like some obscene fleshy
log, as he led Rebecca by her arm to the back of the house. Helene was
there, sitting on an enclosed porch. Big trees in her back yard kept
prying eyes from seeing Johnnie’s display. She sipped tea from an ivory
teacup.
“Hello, girls,” Helene said. “My, you dress wonderfully. And
such nice hats! Please sit down. I hope Johnnie didn’t scare you? I
prefer him naked in this summer heat. It keeps him cooler,” she said.
I wondered at that. Her home was air conditioned, though the
porch, being screened in, let in some of the summer heat. The glass
doors leading out to the porch were drawn back, letting the air
conditioned interior of the home cool the porch as well. It was
wasteful, but elegant, I thought. The porch would have been too hot
with the glass doors closed. The day was too fine to have tea inside.
Johnnie seated Rebecca at the table, then myself. He had to be
careful not to let his cock jut against our bottoms. I put my hands
under my seat to get my dress under me, but it was too short, and I
found myself sitting in my panties directly on the chair. Its seat was
made of wroght iron, painted white.
“Johnnie, get some cushions for them to sit on. The seats are
too hard,” Helene said to our escort. “Really, I told you to do that
earlier,” she scolded.
“Yes, mistress,” Johnnie said. He went into the house and came
out a moment later with two lace cushions. He put them on a side table,
where flowers stood in a vase. Then he picked up one and bade me lift
up my bottom so he could get it under me. I complied. Blushingly I
admired his naked cock as his strong hands fitted the cushion under my
ass. I sat down too quickly, sitting on his hands. I let out a small
cry and lifted my seat again. He adjusted the cushion, removed his
hands out from under me, and told me to sit. I did. The cushion was
soft. There was lace trimming around its edges.
Johnnie placed a cushion under Rebecca’s fanny. She smiled.
She adjusted herself on her new seat and tossed back her hair. Helene
poured her tea, then me, passing the cups to us.
“Mmm, it’s good,” Rebecca said. She sipped her tea. “Orange
Pekoe.”
“Yes, it’s perfect for summer, is it not?” Helene asked.
“Johnnie, dear, why don’t you have a tie on? Go put on a tie for these
young ladies here.”
“Oh, there is no need,” Rebecca said.
Johnnie left, then returned a moment later. A black bow tie
was tied skillfully round the base of his cock. The bow part of it
faced up, toward his chest. I gasped. Rebecca, beside me, gasped. His
thing was extraordinarily long and, despite the tie at its base, it
still stuck out usefully a good ten inches or so, providing plenty of
meat for a girl who wished to pleasure herself with it.
“It is nice, decorated that way, is it not?” Helene asked us.
“And there is so much of him, one does not compromise its essential
functions, doing it.”
“No, one does not,” Rebecca agreed. She gulped at her tea.
“It is essential that I see the male penis displayed,” Helene
said. “For my business.”
“Your business?” Rebecca asked.
“Oh, I did not tell you?” Helene asked. She drew Johnnie
toward her, clasping at his cock with her fingers. Instinctively he
knew, somehow, to refill her cup with tea, and when he had, using a big
silver pitcher on the table, he picked up a pitcher of cream and added a
dollop of it to her cup. Then she took his cock and dipped the tip of
it in her cup. She stirred her tea with the big knobby head of his
dick. Mostly just the pee-holed tip of his cock touched her tea, for if
his whole head had been plunged in it would have spilled all the tea
from her cup. “Give me a bit of your pre-cum, Johnnie,” Helene said.
She squeezed lightly on his veined shaft. Johnnie tensed his
bottomcheeks. He uttered a slight groan. “Yes, that’s it,” Helene
said. She lifted the tip of his hard cock out of her tea and watched as
a big dollop of pre-seminal fluid oozed out of Johnnie’s penis. It
plopped into her cup. “Mmmm,” Helene said. She brought the warm tea to
her lips and sipped it. “He has such fine control,” she said. She let
go of his cock. “Give our guests some, too,” she told Johnnie.
“Oh, I--” Rebecca said. But Johnnie took her cup and, not
allowing her to let go of it, drew it to his crotch. He dipped his
cockhead into it. He winced slightly at the heat of the tea, then
stirred her tea with his knob.
Pre-cum, madam?” Johnnie asked.
“Yes, please, if it doesn’t take too much out of you,” Rebecca
said. She regarded him with awestruck eyes.
Helene stood. She walked round behind Rebecca and put her
fingers through Rebecca’s hair to her neck. She loosened the ties that
held up the front of Rebecca’s dress.
“Oh!” Rebecca gasped.
“He must be inspired a little,” Helene said. I watched in
amazement as Rebecca’s bra cups were loosened. They were part of her
dress, yet separate, in a sense, for loosening the cups did nothing to
lighten the tightness of the corset-like bodice of the dress around
Rebecca’s middle. The cups fell away. Rebecca’s breasts spilled out.
Their tips were cherry red, and hard, in contrast to the jellied mounds
themselves, which were white and soft. Johnnie gaped at Rebecca’s
breasts. They were quite lovely, and the sight of them caused his dick
to deposit a droplet of pre-cum into Rebecca’s cup.
“You also,” Helene said, coming round the table to me.
“Oh, I do not want--!” I blurted, my tea cup hovering at my
lips. I held it delicately. I wished to be ladylike.
“Do not protest. It is summer,” Rebecca smiled at me. She
watched approvingly as Helene undid the strings at my neck, causing my
bosoms to pop from my dress. They jiggled freely. I felt the warm air
upon them, cooled by the outflow of air from the house, and their tips
stood up. Johnnie was brought round to me and I was forced by the
intervention of Helene’s hand to offer my cup to him. We held it
together as he drooled a droplet of precum into my tea.
“It will add to its flavor,” Helene assured me.
“And provide a taste of what is yet to cum?” I asked, lifting
my eyes to her. I asked innocently, though it caused Rebecca and Helene
to laugh.
“You are wearing panties at the moment, my dear,” Helene said.
“Perhaps you should take them off if you wish to enjoy Johnnie more
fully.”
“Oh, no. I do not wish to,” I said, quickly sipping my tea.
“It is hot,” Rebecca said. She lifted her hips and put down
her tea. She slipped her hands within the abbreviated folds of her
dress and pulled down her panties.
“Yes, it is,” Helene agreed. Standing behind me, she did the
same, pulling down her own panties and stepping out of them. They were
white. Rebecca’s were black. “Put them on the table so he can see
them,” Helene said. “It will inspire him more.”
30
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