Emily did not witness a cool and fragrant dawn. In fact, she slept so profoundly through the early calling of birds that when at last she began to stir, she had lost all track of time. Rapturously warm, she rolled one slow eye above the pillows, apprehended the fact that sun stormed through her windows, and tumbled bac k down into a half-sleep filled with soft and sliding images whose detail she cared little about.
Some time passed away.
Then, as last night, music came to her. But this was a fresher, more obvious music, that of an harmonica running through a series of folk melodies. The tunes evinced her childhood within her, and she came more fully from sleep. She stretched hugely, making her spine creak with the pleasure of it. Ah, what a day!
Standing to one side of the window to shield her nakedness, she opened the latch and swung the casement wide. Immediately, she was bathed in soft and vivid air.
Below her a young man was leaning in a relaxed manner against the trunk of a shade tree. He was dressed in riding habit, and he played now into a trilling four-bar blues. He was not especially handsome, but a broad and sun-tanned face was the sort which made one feel good. Evidently a companionable and pleasant person.
And rather good with that mouth harp. As she watched him play, a young woman came into view. She rode a beautiful grey quarterhorse and led an Appaloosa.
"Larry," she called.
Larry broke off and slipped the instrument into a shirt pocket. He and the Appaloosa seemed to know one another, and he whispered in her ear while stroking her neck.
Then, sitting well, he urged her into a trot and disappeared from view. The girl, a pretty blonde, had to wheel her grey in order to follow him, and Emily's breath caught in her throat as the face passed by. It was, of course, the girl from the couch last night.
Emily sat heavily upon the edge of her bed. She was smitten by the recollection of what she had witnessed in the darkness of the library. And not only of what had occurred above her that really was none of her business-but of what sort of reaction she had had! How could she have lain there and masturbated? What was wrong with her? The shamelessness of it! Perhaps she couldn't have es caped, perhaps, but to have crept closer! Oh, yes. She hadn't merely been hiding under the couch. She had wanted to see. She had crept closer as quietly as ever possible until, like a thief, she had been able to steal that couple's privacy.
She looked down at her body. Her enormous breasts hung listlessly, too big, veined, like udders. Her legs were too thin, her feet awkward. Her muscle tone was poor.
There was a telltale sag even upon so slim a body as hers. And yet, as she lay masturbating before her fire last night, this body had seemed an engine of pure pleasure, a very miracle of sexuality. It somehow seemed a betrayal by the body.
She had let herself go, she knew she had, and had indulged herself in her privacy.
Well, everyone did the same thing if they were willing to be truthful. But then, later, to have repeated the indulgence at the expense of other people! There was no excuse for, such a thing. That young woman and someone-had it been Larry?-had had their intimacy shared, whether they knew it or not, by a self-involved, dishonorable woman who hid under the couch and made love to herself secretly and in the dark.
Disgusting! What a spectacle she must have made, had there been anyone to see.
Embarrassed, she rose and walked into the bathroom. Better that she should wash and meet the day than that she should continue with this train of thought. And, she thought as she sat on the toilet, it had seemed such a lovely day when she wok e.
Damn!
What she would do, she would beg off the ride with Adrian, say she had an appointment to keep down in the valley. She would leave as soon as she got dressed and put lots of distance between herself and this place. When she thought of it, the place she really wanted to be was not here. Perhaps she'd drive down the coast to LA. She had friends in LA.
She flushed the toilet and began scrubbing her face more vigorously than usual.
After all, this was a pretty decadent place. The idea of those two making love in the library last night was enough to show her what sort of place it was. Anyone with any decency at all would have used a bedroom. They were to blame themselves for her discovery of them. I mean, what could they expect? Anyone might have wandered through there last night, to get a sandwich or something from the kitchen for example. Or to go down into the cellar. What was beyond those last curtains? She knew, though. Well, not knew. It could hardly be that anyway. But somehow she was pretty certain what she would have discovered had she pushed through that last barrier. How she knew, she would never have been able to describe. It was like Arthur's big, mysterious birthday present to her last fall. For days the questions had built along with the tension. And then, four days before the day, she had known. For no reason, just known completely and positively that he was giving her an aquarium.
But, that? Down in the cellar? Hardly likely. That would be like something out of a book, and not a very nice book either. Perhaps, after all, it really was some musicians just jamming around in the middle of the night.
She wet the cloth again and spread her thighs to wash her encrusted cunt. The image of herself in the mirror, breasts akimbo, was enough to remind her how utterly her body had overleaped its proscribed bounds. Even as she scrubbed, she saw a blush redden her neck and cheeks. You'll have to shape up, my girl. Just because you ran away from Arthur doesn't give you a license to relinquish all the strictures.
Damn it all, anyway. Life wasn't so bad with Arthur. She wished she were really certain she had done the right thing.
She was standing next to the bed looking with distaste at the stiff pair of panties which were all she had to wear when the door handle turned and someone began to walk into the room. In a flash, she was under the covers with her head buried in the pillows. It was one of the guests, probably, someone who didn't know she had arrived last night. He would see her and quietly retreat.
Instead though, she heard the door close and steps walk across the carpet toward her bed table. The person stopped near her head, and Emily was just wondering what to do when the aroma of coffee made her eyes fly open. Beside her stood a boyish girl in a black-and-white maid's uniform. She was just setting a tray of breakfast things down upon the table. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I thought you were asleep."
Emily smiled and rolled onto her back, being careful that her body was adequately covered. "That coffee smells too good to sleep." She nicked a pillow or two behind her shoulders. "Such service. Breakfast in bed!"
The girl's name, was Karen. She had brought along Emily's suitcase. It appeared that the gardener had filled her car enough to drive it in to the estate, and he was on his way now to purchase a few gallons, enough to get her away from here. But the coffee was good, and the muffins with jam even more grateful, and the day now seemed quite cheerful. Karen sat upon the foot of the bed and chatted with a bright impartiality about the Blacks, about her life here as a maid, about how very nice it all was. Emily learned that she was one of ten guests, that there were practically no house rules save that everyone enjoy himself in whatever manner he chose, and that it was now 11:30 in the morning.
"11:30," she cried. "I've an appointment with Mr. Black!"
"Oh, don't worry about it for a moment. He's busy with some business matters anyway. And he wouldn't like you to be rushed. May I pour you another cup?"
"Well, if you think so, then yes." It really was so very friendly sitting here discussing anything that should come into their heads. Karen was quite a perceptive young woman, and she had done so many things! It fairly took Emily's breath away to learn of the traveling and the variety of work Karen had been able to fit into a twenty-five year span. There was that about her which seemed unwilling to accept anything into her philosophy of life until she had given it an honest try. She earned Emily's respect in this, but disquiet was mixed with the approval. It is always slightly upsetting to meet someone who has such a determined consciousness of his own life that he does not allow himself to be fooled in those obvious ways that we all do. Karen did things in order to understand them. She would not have flown away from a husband in a whimsey and a befuddlement. She would understand what she was doing, would weigh it accurately, and would then act according to her balancing.
And so, obviously, Emily found herself confiding in this young maid. She felt that Karen might be able to straighten out some of that anguish she felt.
And Karen opened up.
"Marriage is boring. I've never been married myself, but I've studied the subject as closely as I can. You have to be pretty mature to be married, to withstand the boredom, and to enjoy it. Because that's the kicker: it is enjoyable. You know that better than I do. You'v e said nothing, really, in the last ten minutes except how much you enjoyed your life with Arthur."
"But I left." Emily nearly wailed. It was all so confusing!
"It's a bad time, my friend. It's hard times for woman today. For men too, I suppose.
Oh, the traditional concepts of womanhood and manhood are still available of course, but everything we hear tells us that if we really want to be in the swing of the latter twentieth century, we'd better be involved in changing our understanding of ourselves. And that's bulishit, if you ask me. The ethic, supposedly, is to develop complete honesty, and yet the parameters of growth are as severely limited today as they were in those allegedly oppressive Victorian times. We like to pat ourselves on the back and who doesn't?-because we've revolted sexuality-"
"Revolted sexuality! That's pretty good," Emily laughed.
"Yeah, I just made it up at the moment." Karen grinned back. "But our revolting sexuality-to carry this pun to extremes-is as stereotypical as was Victorian sex.
People make such a fetish of how many orgasms they have, or some such.
Remember five of ten years ago when we were all required to obfuscate the Establishment by refusing to wear dresses and so On? Well, what did we do? We all wore blue jeans, turtlenecks, and surplus Army jackets. It was as uniform and as boring as all the white gloves and mary-janes in the world."
"True."
"Are you going to eat that last muffin? No? May I?-Because, you see, the true liberation is unique for each of us. If it weren't an individual thing, then it wouldn't be a liberation. Yes, we ought to experience everything, but we oughtn't to have our judgment of those things prescribed. And that's what the fascists of the new morality, as they like to call it, do for us."
"I guess so."
"Well, it's why you're so fucked up."
Emily was startled into a bark of laughter.
"Really! I mean it. If you're going to be free, then you'll actually have to be free. And that means being free of Arthur and all the pleasure you had together."
"Now, aren't you telling me what to do?"
"Sure! Consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds." Karen gave a smug grin around her muffin.
"Oh!" Emily slung one of her pillows at the girl. She was a little surprised that she should do such a thing, usually being more slow in intimacy, but she did like this cheerful being. And in doing so, one of her breasts came free of its covering. She confined it again in confusion, but she had time to recognize that Karen's eyes had been caught and held by the big gland.
And Karen's manner seemed to change. She became more forceful, and she built up a physical connection between them by tapping Emily's leg or patting her hip to emphasize a point.
"Now take this place, for instance. The entire point here is to do what you like. And, really, people do just that. There's a lot of, shall we say, erotic experimentation, but there's also a lot of celibacy. People ride or don't ride-and you can take that in any way you like-just as they please."
But Emily began to retreat. "I'm sure I'm not-"
"The point is that everyone needs some exposure to the various ways of life. People buy things out of catalogues too much. They see in Time magazine that they're suppose to be feeling in such and such a way, and they dash off a check and buy that life-style sight unseen. A pig in a poke if there ever was one, for once you've bought the thing there's no refund. We ought to be able to try things before we sign up for them. Used to be you could listen to the records in a record store before you bought them. Now they're sealed, for your protection, they say. Bullshit! It's for their goddamned protection, not ours. We don't need to be protected. We need to be allowed to get a taste of something before we accept it."
During all this, Karen had been allowing her self to touch Emily's shrouded form. Now she hunched forward on the bed a little, apparently so that she could converse more pointedly.
Emily clutc hed her coffee cup. Karen seemed so passionate about all this! She had lost the ironic detachment which had been amusing before. What was going on? She felt trapped in her bed. "Look. I-"
"No." Karen held up her hand and then brought it down to rest on Emily's naked shoulder. "Let me finish. Every woman-and man had to work out her own damnation. I mean that! You can't do things for other people, save them, or change them, or elevate them, or whatever you'd like to think. You can only do things for yourself. For yourself, Emily." Her finger was prodding Emily in the ribs. "Don't think about how Arthur has been hurt by this. Sure, he's been hurt! But you have too, and you must think of yourself. Shall I run you a bath?"
The transition had been so abrupt that Emily was caught breathless.
"Well, yes. Yes, I guess so. If you wouldn't mind."
Karen stood up and walked without another word into the bathroom. Emily took the opportunity to hop out of bed and tie her robe around herself. Karen certainly was an odd sort of girl. But nice, really. Strange, but nice.
"How do you like it?" came Karen's call from the bathroom. The water was beginning to rush, and she had to raise her voice to be heard.
Emily walked into the bathroom to answer. "Hot," she told her maid, "but not scalding."
"Righty-o." Karen adjusted the handles and then stood again. The bath was filling fast. "It's a pretty bathroom, don't you think?"
"Yes, very."
"I like the way they've done the whole house."
"Yes."
"And your room is so comfortable."
"It is."
"You'll like it here."
"Oh, but I'm not staying."
"Adrian said you were."
"Well, really, I couldn't, you know… " Karen watched her calmly as Emily trailed off.
"I think you'll change your mind," she said.
The audacity of the girl! "No, really I won't. I have so many-"
"I think the bath is full now."
"Oh. Yes, I guess it is."
The two women stood looking at each other expectantly for a moment.
"I'm sure I can manage very well now, thank you," Emily finally said. But she had never had a maid, and she didn't want to offend this girl. Karen continued to watch her, so finally, with an inward shrug, she unbelted her robe and slipped it off. Trying to move her breasts as little as possible, she handed the garment to Karen. "Here.
Hang this up, won't you?"
And then she was lowering herself into a deep bath which was, after all, just right.
She allowed herself to lie back in the hot water and soak. Her eyes closed in contentment.
A hand upon her belly jerked them open again. It was Karen, kneeling, her sleeves rolled up, armed with soap and luffa.
"What? What are you doing?"
"Why, washing you, of course."
"But I-"
"Quiet, lady. Enjoy."
"I-"
"Of course you haven't. Neither had I before I came here. But you'll enjoy being washed. I'm good at it."
"I'm sure you are, but really, Karen, I-"
"No more." She pushed Emily gently back down into the water. "It'll be all right. Trust me."
Emily still wasn't certain, but the hand which was slowly beginning to massage her tightened belly into softness again did feel awfully good. She began to relax. "I haven't been washed since I was probably eight." She began to grin.
"Just close your eyes again, Emily, and I'll have you clean in no time."
But Karen was wrong. It took quite a lot of time.
Karen's hands were lovely. They slid eas ily all over Emily's body, quickly, lightly, never lingering long upon any one spot. It was a titillation as well as a cleansing.
Emily found that she could raise no objection to Karen's fingers upon her breasts.
Even when Karen manipulated her nipples until they stood up, Emily merely lay back with a peaceful smile upon her face. And when the woman slid her fingers down along the edge of Emily's hairy vee, down between her loosening thighs, to guide the soap into her most intimate creases, Emily even found herself sighing. It was almost exciting, almost an erotic caress. And as long as that distance was maintained…
Emily raised her knee to allow Karen better access to the soft mound.
There was no sound save that of the motion in the water. Karen's light breathing was all the evidence Emily had that she was even in the room. And her hands, of course.
But the hands might have been her own, so knowledgeably did they manipulate her.
They were washing her breasts again now. Karen seemed determined to make her breasts just as clean as they could be. The great orbs slithered under the soapy fingers, wobbling upon Emily's chest with a weight which was anything but unpleasant. Her nipples had grown stiff again, and now and then Karen's hands brushed them, maintaining their erection.
Whispering, Karen breathed into her ear, "Now if you'll stand up, I'll wash your back."
With a hand to support her in one soapy armpit, Emily rose from the water to stand braced against the wall with her back to her maid. The hands began to work up a lather at her shoulders and to smooth the soap down her back. Soon they had reached her waist, and here Karen soaped around to Emily's soft belly again.
Perhaps there was a spot she had missed, as she ran her soap across the top of Emily's wide pussy bush. Probably that was the reason for her fingers trailing down the divide between thigh and cunt. And then the hands remembered another spot they had missed and rose to cup the weight of Emily's jutting breasts. The soapy cups lifted and separated and then allowed the weights to slip back down to their own position again. But now, of course, there was all that thigh to do. Karen bent to her task. Those long columns rising before her eyes to Emily's handsome ass needed attention. Emily felt the hands moving up the inside and the back of her thighs until they met where all the lines came together. She felt her cheeks being insinuated by soapy, slippery fingers, felt her very asshole grazed by a fingernail, once and then repeatedly. She spread her thighs so that she could be washed everywhere. Her head still hung slightly with eyes closed, the feel of the downward pull of her breasts rather exciting now.
And then she felt warm breath puffing slowly against the very base of her spine, just where it swelled outwards into the white curve of her hips. Hot breath against her and then-what was that? Were those lips which had pressed lightly against her spine? A new and strange way of washing for sure. She was glad she had taken the chance of discovering the way one washed another woman. It was instructive, in a purely academic way of course. She sighed again. Yes, for certain, they were lips.
Now the cloth was wiped, washing away the soap. She felt the coolness of new water against her flushed flanks. And still the lips returned to their work. And a tongue perhaps between them. A softness which prodded downwards and between her buttocks. She could feel Karen's whole face pressed against her now, nearly splitting her open from behind, as the tongue sought its crinkled target. And Emily knew right when the target was found. That soft and wet pressure opening her, stroking her loosening rim, inserting itself more deeply within her. She tilted her ass up and spread her cheeks more so that this unusual washing could continue.
Curiously, one of the hands felt it necessary at that moment to return to the hairy thatch in the front again. It dipped and this time split her right down the middle. Oh! It must have been a mistake that it rubbed its way across the top of her clit. Surely a mistake. But why should her clit have been so aroused? Pesky thing. But it was okay now. The fingers were down where they might conceivably need to do some washing, smoothing in and out of her vagina itself. Then kept brushing against her clit, though. Kept the darned little button jumping like crazy.
She was beginning to think that the washing was growing just a trifle too erotic. She ought to stop it, really she ought. She was not entirely certain that she wanted to go on with this. She could wash herself, after all. Yes, she'd have to put a stop to this.
Any time now she'd say something to make Karen take her tongue out of her asshole. That tongue which was flicking itself endlessly and maddeningly across her splayed rear entrance. Was this washing? No. Karen was beginning to go too far.
Really. Really this would just have to stop. Very soon. She'd put an end to it for good and all. She'd just say-Oh! Was that a finger which just slid into her asshole? Oh, it was, and there was another. God, they felt like a ramrod up inside her. But Karen had stopped her licking. Yes, she had stopped, and so it was all right. Now things were in control again. Karen was simply washing her very thoroughly with her fingers. You could feel the way they squished in and out, surely for purposes of cleanliness only.
And the hand in her front now, the one slowly washing in and out of her slippery cunt, began to concentrate its stroking on her clit again. Really, she was sure that her clit was clean enough. There couldn't be any further soaping necessary. But those fingers felt otherwise, obviously. They felt that there must be-ah! YessssThey felt that-Mmmmmm!-They felt…
The two fingers which plunged into her rear hole were increasing their speed. She felt Karen's teeth grasp a wide hunk of the flesh of one cheek and begin to nibble at it. And the fingers on her clit were no longer simply washing. She was certain of that now. Something else was happening. It was all so strange. What was Karen trying to do? Emily's breath was coming faster. She had lain her forehead against her crossed arms and straddled her legs s o that Karen had access for this odd business, whatever it was, and she could feel that her mighty breasts were swaying sharply forward and back in time with the fingers flashing into her from behind.
Karen didn't know it, of course, but her washing was having the most curious effect upon Emily. Really, this was just going to make her come if she didn't put a stop to it.
Imagine, coming instead of being cleaned! What a mixup. Karen would certainly be surprised if she knew what she was actually doing. She thought she was just washing. But those fingers in her asshole! Oh, and her clit felt so huge in the light grasp of those other fingers. She really was going to come! In fact, she could feel it beginning just now. Yes, there it was coming. There her muscles were tightening.
There she felt herself beginning to climb up. She'd better put a stop to this. This was her last chance. And she was almost there. She was actually about to come…
"There," said Karen abruptly. "You're done."
The fingers vanished from her asshole and cunt.
Emily was left in a delirium on the verge of an orgasm, her face slack, her eyes unfocused.
"Turn around."
She turned.
"Step out."
She stepped.
She found herself folded into a vast towel, being patted dry by Karen's soft hands.
She was desperate. Inside the towel she allowed her hands to grasp her cunt for a moment, but she could hardly finish the come here. God, she needed it! She'd never get dry otherwise. Her pussy was dripping down her thighs. And it had all happened quite by accident. Karen hadn't meant to do this to her, surely. She didn't even know in what a state she had been left. But, oh Jesus, it felt good to have her breasts and back rubbed briskly dry by the other girl! To have Karen's arms around her from behind, cupping her big tits in terrycloth, jiggling them, milking them, swaying them every which way around her chest. She risked a quick dip into her cunt-slit with a long middle finger. If only she could masturbate! Oh, her clit was enormous, it was so excited.
"Now the powder."
The towel somehow had vanished. Emily stood jutting and naked in the middle of the humid room. Soon a cool flash of powder was sprinkled across her throat and the upper slopes of her breasts. Karen's hands followed wherever the powder led, smoothing the flesh, cooling it with the fragrant dust. The perfume curled into Emily's nostrils, making her even bore heady than she already was. Karen's hands and the perfume, Karen's caress and the lovely smell: she felt as though she might topple over.
Karen had already annointed her entire breasts with the powder. The girl had spent a long time shifting their weight about, making certain that she left no inch untended and unsavored. The wide brown nipples she drew forth until they nearly quivered with the attention, turning whitish with their sprinkling. And now she was performing the same ritual upon Emily's slender back. Emily felt her soothing hands growing closer to the ass which she had washed so wonderfully thoroughly only minutes before, and her intensity grew with the memory of it. Seemingly by accident, Emily managed to caress herself for an instant while Karen was bent to her task and would be unable to see. And it was such bliss, that momentary pressure upon her straining clit. Such delight! Oh God, to come!
And now Karen knelt before her with her face merely inches from the moisture and the agony of Emily's longing cunt. Surely she would notice the flowing juices, surely she would realize how her washing had affected Emily. Emily was dying with embarrassment. How could she have grown so excited? How? How? And Karen's light fingers just at the base of her belly were not helping matters. How they danced just above her hairy mound! How they twined their way down into the wonderful bush, brushing it with powder, turning it a lighter color, combing the hair until it all stood up in its thickest thatch. Oh, her cunt must be absolutely dribbling! She could feel the sheen of moisture making the insides of her thighs slippery. Unconsciously she tipped her hips forward, offering that lower mouth to her maid, making the lips kiss moistly open and the inner red more visible.
But at that instant the cap came off the powder jar, and the white perfume cascaded down Karen's front and spread across her stockinged legs. "Oh! Look what I've done!"
Emily was nearly too excited to see; certainly she could not speak. Only she watched as Karen bustled to save what powder she could. But there was so much spread across her uniform. And her stockings! Just look at those stockings. It would be easier, really, to take the uniform right off. Much simpler to clean it that way. Such a shame to have spilled all that wonderful powder. And then Karen's uniform was gone. She stood before Emily in panties, garterbelt, and the ruined stockings, her boyish body quite tanned and supple. "Perhaps you could help me with these stockings," she asked.
Emily could only nod.
Karen took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. She sat upon the edge of the bed with her long legs stretched out before her. "Perhaps you'd straighten them and brush away the powder. You see, I can't reach it all."
And, after all, that made sense. So difficult to reach all over one's legs. Emily knelt down between the girl's legs. Really, she had a lovely body, so trim, so slight. Not so gross as her own. Oh, how she wished that she might have been blessed with small, champagne-glass breasts like those.
But it was such a strange sensation, holding Karen's relaxed leg in her hands, brushing away the bits of powder. Karen reclined back upon her elbows, looking down the length of her sloping body to instruct Emily in her ministrations. Emily brushed one leg off thoroughly, taking time to make certain she had gotten all the excess from the brown flesh above the edge of the stocking. And then she raised the other thigh to repeat her operation. The action of raising the thigh made Karen's cunt gape open for a moment under its thin and translucent shield of nylon. Emily's eyes just happened to be upon it at that moment-really, just happened!-and she saw that Karen herself was excited. The crotch of the panties grew damp before her eyes, and a sweet and sexual odor began to suffuse the fragrance of the powder.
And how could this be? A coincidence, to be sure. That the two of them should have become excited purely by happenstance at the same time. Really, it was almost laughable.
"I don't… I'm not sure I've got them quite straight," said Emily. "If you'll just stand for a minute, I'll… "
Karen stood above her and opened her legs so that Em ily could slip her hand between. Emily found her face pressed against the top of Karen's thigh, just under the lacy fringe of her panties, as she fumbled with the stockings. Her nose was turned toward the bulge which evidenced Karen's moistening cunt, and she could smell the musk more strongly now. It was all so very odd! There was this girl's pussy right before her eyes. There was something awfully fascinating about another woman's sex. Truly, she did like to look at other cunts than her own, in public showers, for example. Just out of curiosity, of course. Merely a healthy curiosity. But this was certainly the closest she had ever been to one. It was a pretty thing, actually, the way it cupped down so smoothly between her opened thighs. Quite a lovely sight. Quite, well, exciting.
And as she understood that the sight was adding to her own torturous arousal, she was shamed. There was a name for women like that, women who grew excited by their own s ex. But as she began to draw back in confusion, Karen sat down again, holding Emily's head in her hands. Emily found her face pressed unequivocally against the moist and odorous crotchband of Karen's panties. A kiss was being offered her more strange than any she had ever imagined.
"I… " she managed to mumble against the hot and perfumed groin, and then, entirely of its own volition, her tongue came from between her lips and pressed itself tentatively against the very wet center of the bulging nylon. A tremor ran through Karen's body, and the girl's breath escaped with a hiss. Emily tried to turn her face to one side, to collect her thoughts, to draw away, but Karen held her securely with her hands and seemed to urge the intimacy once more. Well, once more might be all right, and her tongue began a longer and more complete caress this time. She began to taste the juices which were flowing sweetly, so like her own and yet quite different all the same. Strange, but not unpleasant at all. In fact, it was gratifying to feel the trembling which activated the girl each time her tongue returned to the spot where Karen's clit would be. She was such a friendly soul, after all, Karen, that it was nice to do something for her. She obviously enjoyed this sort of thing. Why not give her a bit of happiness? It was harmless when you thought about it. She really wasn't one of those. No, not at all. She was just repaying the compliment of the bath.
Now Karen's hands left Emily's head and rose to caress her own breasts, but somehow Emily forgot to pull away. Instead, she actually pressed harder with her mouth, forcing the soaked material between Karen's lips.
Karen's hands came down from their activity upon her tits and began to pull her panties off. Emily was forced to sit back for a moment in order to peel the cloth from its smooth seat against the girl's cunt. Then she herself pulled them down and off the spread and stockinged legs, leaving nothing but the white straps of the garterbelt to frame a long and narrow pussy. Karen's cunt hair was redder than the hair on her head, which was of the color usually styled auburn. For the first time, Emily noticed that the sun was streaming across their two bodies. She noticed it because it lit up and flamed the tangle of hair which tumbled down to guard the slack lips of Karen s cunt Now was the time to stop, of course. This had gone on long enough. Decenc y dictated that she stop right here. But Karen was reclining fully upon the bed, her hips arched upward where they canted over the edge, her feet barely brushing the floor.
From Emily's kneeling position, the arched and hairy cunt completely dominated the view. Karen's lips were opened and the pink inner smoothness was revealed. Emily even thought that she could see the hard nub of Karen's clit poking its head through the wet folds. It was absolutely the time to stop.
"Eat me."
The quiet voice intoxicated her. She placed one hand on each of Karen's thighs and bent hesitantly forward. Bending forward pressed Karen's thighs farther apart, and the girl began to squirm.
"Oh, eat me!"
And for the first time in her life Emily placed her mouth softly upon the cunt of another woman and tasted the true heat and wetness of a strange pussy.
She was in awe.
Immediately, Karen began a delirious twitching. Emily had some difficulty holding her position upon Karen's flowing cunt. Her nose and cheeks were buffetted by Karen's hair as the girl humped increasingly frantically. Karen's breath was hissing through clenched teeth, and, looking up along her writhing body, Emily saw that her hands were tearing at her breasts.
Thinking to increase Karen's pleasure, Emily reached below her chin and slipped two fingers deep into the girl's vagina. The heat and wetness of the hole astonished her, as did the impassioned response she received. Karen nearly rose from the bed, so enormous was the convulsion as she felt those fingers begin to fuck deeply into her cunt.
Emily could hardly breathe. Her mouth was clamped loosely around Karen's clit and inner lips, and her face was s meared with cunt juice which almost bubbled, so copious was it. She had to get what air she could through her coated nostrils, and the heaviness of the smell made her drunk. Her tongue was beginning to ache after all its unaccustomed exercise, but she kept it hard and continued to jab and tickle Karen's clit with it as the girl rose higher and higher toward her peak. There was no question of leav ing now. Emily knew she was going to make Karen come, and she nearly swooned with the anticipation of feeling the girl's convulsions against her own tongue and her own mouth. Somewhere, a dam had broken open within her, and the flood of passion for this girl's body was drowning her. She was swept down a roaring tunnel, clinging frantically to Karen's thighs for support, her nose and mouth endlessly sucking on Karen's cunt, desperate to stay afloat in the inundation of passion.
And then, as she began to feel Karen tensing for the final time, her belly rippling with wave after wave of convulsions as though she were about to retch; as she knew that Karen was about to come against her face, she knew suddenly that she too was coming. Without even touching herself, she recognized just as the explosion hit her that she was actually coming at the same time as her writhing friend. Together they slammed their way through orgasms which left them both exhausted.
A long while later, Emily noticed that she was still sitting back on her knees between Karen's still legs. Her face was still gummy with Karen's cunt juice, and the cunt itself looked funny to her, as though she was seeing it for the first time.
What had happened? She almost didn't know.
But her knees were stiff, and she climbed painfully to her feet. Karen was asleep.
How could she sleep in so awkward a position? She must be as supple as a cat.
Emily lifted her legs gently and rolled her up into the middle of the bed. She covered her lightly with the comforter. Karen mumbled something but made no real notice, and she curled herself into a fetal ball under the covering.
As is the case after a shattering experience, Emily needed to look at herself, to see if she were still there. Yes, she was. It looked like the same woman. She touched her face. Yes, it was her face. But her mind was still swirling down that tumultuous river with no hope for a while of stopping to look back to where it had come from.
Absently, she pulled a robe around her naked body. She wandered around the room, picking things up and putting them down again. She stopped to look out through the window. It was daytime out there, she saw. The sun was up. This must be the day after she had arrived. Yes, there had been a storm, and she had come here all wet, and they had welcomed her, and shown her this room. And then she had… yes, by herself. And there had been the business down in the library… And now this. What was happening to her?
It looked like a fresh and delightful day out there. She saw two horses with riders too far away to recognize break out of the woods and gallop away to the right. There had been something about horses…? Oh yes, she had said she would go riding with Mr.
Black. Perhaps she ought to get started with that.
"Mmmmmm."
With some trepidation, Emily turned from the window. She saw Karen in the midst of a quivering stretch. The girl relaxed and rolled onto her stomach, the comforter pulling somewhat aside as she did so. Her slim buttocks shone whitely against the brown rest of her. "Hi," she grinned.
Her expression was so friendly, so innocent, that Emily's misgivings died in the bud.
"Hi," she smiled back. – "Gee, that was terrific! I feel so good."
"Um, I'm glad."
"You are some wonderful lover."
"Well, I… I mean, I've never done that before."
Karen grinned again. "That, my dear, was pretty obvious."
Emily felt herself blushing. "It all happened so fast."
"That's the seducer's credo: Keep them falling over backwards just a little bit faster than they can run."
"Oh, you!" But she walked over and sat down on the bed. "Were you seducing me?"
"I sure was, my love."
"Oh, God," Emily wailed.
Sudden concern flooded Karen's bright eyes. "What's the matter?"
"I don't know." Emily looked at her hands, palm upward and picking at one another in her lap. "It's too fast. Too confusing. I've never been with a woman before. I've never even wanted to!"
"Now, now." Karen laid a hand soothingly on Emily's arm. "No recriminations now.
It's nothing really. A light pleasure. I don't want to detract from what was a wonderful time, but you needn't be too upset about it. Nearly everyone experiences it sooner or later if he has the slightest inclination toward it. And having made love with me doesn't really change your feelings about yourself, now does it?"
"I don't know. Oh, Karen, I'm so miserable!"
"There, there," said her friend, patting her. "There, there."
Tears ran down Emily's cheeks as she wailed, "I wish Arthur were here! I wish I could talk to Arthur."
"He would understand, eb?"
"Yes." She sniffed and dried her tears. "He's a dope some of the time, such a… a man, but he does understand me pretty well, and we used to be able to talk so easily."
"Well, you could talk to him now. He's just as far away as the telephone, as the phone company likes to remind us."
"But I can't. Don't you see? I just can't."
"I'm sorry, Emily."
Emily raised her blotchy face and looked at the girl.
"I'm truly sorry that you find yourself in that place."
"Oh, Karen!" And the tears began again.
So in soothing her, Karen opened the robe to allow the great breasts to come free.
And she kissed her, all about the face and neck. Emily felt her tears flee as the light lips lingered upon her. And then there was, really, the greatest intimacy of all this morning as Karen placed her open mouth upon Emily's and the two woman kissed deeply.
Karen grew excited again as the kiss continued, but Emily was content merely with the sensation. There was no thought of response within her, so Karen proceeded with her own pleasure. She lowered her mouth to Emily's breasts and worshipped them with her tongue. Her hands dropped without embarrassment upon the crinkly hair of her sex, and she began to massage herself as she lavished upon those wonderful big tits all the love she had longed to give them. She was enormously attracted to large breasts, being so small herself, and Emily's abundance kept her in agonies of eroticism.
Emily watched as her friend's hand proceeded with their pleasure-giving task. The scent of her lover began to impinge upon her. There was excitement in her proximity to this sexuality, but it was a detached excitement, a mental excitement. Simply, she was happy that she could be the impetus for such a thing.
Karen sank back upon the bed with both her hands now shivering the slick flesh of her pussy. Her eyes were glued upon Emily's vast tits, and Emily swung them like bells to pleasure her the more.
Emily felt vastly protective, enfolding, as she watched her friend's face grow more avid. She would do anything to make this miracle possible, to help Karen with her impending climax.
She felt a surge of love that she could be such use to the girl. "Yes, darling," she crooned, "make it come so good. Make it a good, good come, my love."
She lowered her chest so that her tits swung just above the slim hands with which Karen was plying her hot furrow. She made them sway back and forth, thrilled at the sound of Karen's gasps. She titillated the girl by allowing her stiff nipples to brush the backs of Karen's masturbating hands. And that was enough. The nipples grazing Karen's flushed skin did the old trick, and her friend celebrated the ecstacy ofanother orgasm.
Emily watched the shuddering come to an end, and then she dipped her face in order to kiss Karen's reeking hands. The hands, and the swollen cunt lips, and the wet hair all were kissed and licked. The taste was good, the excitement real, and the protective enclosing acute.
And then, too late for it to help, she remembered the vibrator in the drawer. What fun it would have been to use that! But there was time enough. For as she placed one last moist kiss upon Karen's relaxed cunt, she realized that she had already decided to stay on at this amazing house. Yes, it was still confusing. Yes, she was actually frightened of what might happen. But also, yes, she did want to make love with this girl again. She had to admit it. She brushed her nose through Karen's slit, inhaled deeply as she did so, and raised her head. "I'm going to stay," she said.
Karen's eyes flew open. She grinned. "That old cunt will do it every time," she boasted.
Emily didn't even blush. "Yes," she said. "Your old cunt did it again. I can't drag myself away." And, so saying, she dropped her face into the gash, and with her tongue she made it come again.