No matter how often I went to the big bedroom, it impressed me anew each time. The entire beach-house had a kind of baroque splendor, but here the sheer luxury was unbelievable. Inches-deep carpeting on the floor. A bed the size of a tennis court, practically. Full-length mirrors on every wall, every sliding closet door. Even a small bar, compact but well stocked, including a supply of the milder drinks, fruit cordials and sweet wines and the like.
It was more of a suite, actually, with an alcove for dressing and a private bathroom. Here again everything was luxurious to the ultimate degree, with a huge sunken tub and fixtures that looked like golden gargoyles. Gold-plated, no doubt, but I wouldn't have been surprised if the things were 14-karat genuine. But then, well, if it was merely a matter of money, nothing my hostess could do would surprise me very much. Not after checking the fur decoration on the toilet – real mink, imagine! – on the seat too, not just the lid; wasn't that the height of something-or-other? If ever a wealthy woman knew how to enjoy her wealth, it was Amanda Whitcomb. Had her sexual tastes leaned toward the normal, she probably would have kept a gigolo and a stable of studs.
As it was, of course, she had no need for that sort of business deal to enhance her sex-life. The peninsula had its own secret social register. Or so I gathered, by dint of some snooping around and a lot of guesswork, hoping to satisfy my curiosity about this fantastic place and its freaky people. And it wasn't easy to snoop here, either, especially without the cooperation I had expected but didn't get. After that first fun-frolic in the car – the front-seat session, torn panties, jackhammer tongue-tip and all – I sure hadn't figured on such a budding relationship going sour so soon. Almost without reason, too! But that was exactly the way it happened, a rapport that budded with great promise and then got sidetracked somehow and refused to blossom.
Well, maybe there was a reason, but it didn't seem logical to me. I hadn't intended anything like that. I wanted to be Fleur Halevy's chum, not her competitor. But that was how we wound up a week later, rivals vying for the boss-lady's favor – jealousy, pure and simple. What a silly predicament! Couldn't she see that I wasn't trying to steal her job? Wasn't it obvious that my one overriding interest here was a free summer vacation?
I couldn't voice that thought aloud, naturally, not without risking a few repercussions. But it was true nonetheless, and really rather ingenuous – innocent of guile, certainly – even though I did give the appearance of something new that gave me an advantage; the novelty was bound to wear off soon. Or had it worn off already? Standing there in the open doorway of the big bedroom, I felt a fleeting twinge of uneasiness. The change had apparently taken place without my knowledge; why else would they both be together like that? Only I couldn't understand what they needed me for. Maybe if I just ducked away unseen…
"Oh, there you are. We've been waiting for you." Asprawl on the bed, Amanda was wriggling out of her negligee. "Do come in and join the party, darling."
"Hmm. Is it a party?"
"It is now. Or it will be, just as soon as you smile and accept my invitation. Then there'll be three of us."
Rolling this way and that, she had managed to doff the negligee and toss it aside deftly, even maintaining a certain dignity. Now she stretched indolently, putting her nude body on display in an almost dramatic sequence of seductive gestures. Fleur was undressing hastily, her hot-eyed leer focused on the posturing flesh even as she manipulated the fasteners of her garments. I averted my gaze queasily, unable to look without a sense of strain. Especially since the afternoon sun was pouring in, flooding the room with bright glare.
"Kid? Come on." Amanda's tone had a touch of authoritative arrogance, familiar and not to be flouted, "Aren't you going to join us? Come now, take off your clothes."
I closed the window blinds and drew the heavy drapes shut, throwing the scene with shadow. "That's better, isn't it? I like a little atmosphere. Long as it's a party…"
No one paid any attention. I caught a quick glimpse of Fleur before she sank down upon the bed, just enough to feel a bit awed by the revealed perfection of her body. A moment later she was trailing her uniquely incomparable lips over receptive skin, one hand exploring in an artful guide. But they were both too impatient to drag out the preliminaries, obviously, and the dark head followed the gliding hand and bent to its task. I heard Amanda moan. But even as she made the soft sound, her slender arm rose and beckoned in a sensuously serpentine motion. And the moan crested on a shrill note, becoming a tone of command:
Loi?
Heat boiled my insides, melting my will, destroying the last vestige of self-determination. Resistance was impossible; there was a magnetic charm to this woman, something in her voice and manner that turned me curiously docile. I felt myself slipping into the Eloi mood – and loving it, of course, loving the emotional depth of this overwhelming sensation. Shedding my clothes on the way, I scurried to obey and plunged into the entanglement, accepting her body as the centerpiece.
Fleur made room for me, but not much. Hardly any, after a while, chewing on her precious mouthful of cunt and all but ignoring my presence. Left out, I moved up toward Amanda's breasts. But she muttered a word of dissent and pushed me back down again, turning on her side slowly, guiding me and letting that dark head between her legs go on undisturbed. So now there was room for me. New and as yet untouched territory, opening up for my delectation.
"There, honey. Do my ass. You know how."
My delectation, her pleasure. I kissed the quivering buttocks and then could procrastinate no longer as her impatience communicated itself. Wedging into the furrowed flesh, I licked up and down the entire length of it in preparation, pausing briefly to probe the tiny eyelet with a stiffened tongue-tip in the midst of each sweep. It seemed to please her immensely, pleasing me even more perhaps, since the line of communication remained open and simply added her pleasure to mine. Oh, if only I could have given her all of what she was feeling, in front as well as in back. Too bad I hadn't been born twins. Wouldn't it be grand to have two mouths, one here and one there? Two tongues, an ass-licker and a cuntlapper, both pleasuring her at the same time. So that I could take my rival's place and still keep my own.
The weird notion persisted, evoking a pang of guilt. It wasn't fair to be thinking of poor Fleur like that. After all, her job was at stake. It made me wonder if maybe I really did want to usurp her position – take her place in every way, not just in sex. Social secretary to a rich lady, not a bad idea! Especially since the rich lady was like a Goddess to me. A lesbian Goddess. Only I couldn't help but feel guilty about it, shocked by my own selfish greed.
Amanda's anxious murmur put all that out of my mind. I quit fooling around and jammed my face in hard, making the furrow wider and deeper. Deep enough to welcome me in as I glued the tip of my tongue to her asshole. Until at last my caress grew in intensity and became a thrust, an audaciously forceful thrust that broke through the ring like barrier and performed the ultimate penetration of her flesh. A sob of joy reached my ears at the crucial instant of entry, giving me cause for pride. Once there, force was no longer necessary; everything was soft and moist and warm, strangely succulent, almost brimming with the fruity-ripe taste of debauchery, this lewdest of lewd perversions. The noise was noticeable now, too, all sorts of squelchy noises, faint but audible – the sound of a tongue slithering through mucous ass-flesh, the sound of a tongue slurping cunt. Oh yes, I was still conscious of my competitor! More than ever now, I felt a need to outdo her, to bestow a greater pleasure, perhaps even to make this part of my beloved's body as sensitive as her clitoris.
I started experimenting, changing the pattern, adding the suck-kiss of my pursed lips to the cycle of my fuck-motion, a bubbly little vacuum to enhance every withdrawal. Now and then I switched to a circular movement inside her asshole, turning the thrust of my tongue into a kind of spiral and marveling at how the fleshy tube could stretch and shrink with such elasticity. It was working, too, I could actually feel the heat of her convulsive response, voluptuously synchronized to each succeeding variation.
Then, almost with a sense of shock, I became vaguely aware of another change, not of my own making. Was that a hand reaching for me, touching me? Uh-huh. And down here at the foot of the bed, it could only come from Fleur. Uh-huh. Pawing blindly but not without aim or effect, one small hand. How nice! It was an overture, sure enough, a renewal of friendship. True, I could still recall the rift, the rivalry, but wouldn't it be foolish of me to rebuff her? Basically, her desire was the same as my own – to make our Goddess happy, what else? So we were partners, not rivals, and didn't that call for complete cooperation?
I helped her hand find the way and then extended mine to seek her out in return. We helped each other. I shuddered in delight at the touch of those wriggling fingers in my cunt. I got an extra jolt of excitement from the straining reaction of her moist flesh as it struggled to swallow my prying hand. The reaction of an unmistakably aroused cunt. Her cunt, my cunt. Her hand, my hand. And meanwhile we both shared the rapture of pleasing our beloved Goddess, such a deliciously perverted rapture! Buried in the crack of that sensuously twitching ass, I was sure that my partner was sucking like mad. Sucking cunt, sucking Amanda's hot luscious cunt, while I tongued Amanda's equally hot and luscious asshole. But even though our mouths belonged to Amanda in the middle, we were giving our hands to each other. Nobody was jealous any more. Nobody was trying to outdo anybody. The spirit of cooperation was like a beautiful bond between us. And when the mistress of the manor began writhing in the grip of incipient orgasm, we joined forces and carried her over the top with our hot fucking tongues. All in that same beautiful spirit. Helping one another. Lending a hand, as it were.