Late that same night, Fleur came to my room, cautioning me to silence until she was inside with the door shut behind her. The gesture she made was a common one, a finger to her lips, but I couldn't look at it without seeing a sexy connotation. That finger had been in my cunt today. Those lovely lips had nibbled my clit-button to a climax once – with the aid of an unseen but incredibly dynamic tongue – would it ever happen again? I hoped so. Maybe that was why she had come tonight…
"It's okay to talk." She parked herself on the side of my bed, smiling now. "Amanda's probably asleep, anyway. Not that she'd mind our being together like this."
I shrugged and remained silent, peering intently through the fringe of my half-lowered lashes, watching the movement of her pink lips, pink and shiny in the dim lamplight. The sense of intimacy was overpowering. She wore only a partially unbuttoned pajama-top nothing else. I had even less on, sleeping raw as usual, but at least there was a bedsheet over me. Only it had gotten all twisted somehow, leaving just one corner to shield my body. And I couldn't very well pull up more of it without appearing either bashful or coy, especially since my visitor was so obviously casual about her own droopy garment.
"As a matter of fact, honey, you might even say I'm here on the boss-lady's behalf. It's like I'm delivering a message."
"Oh? Do tell. Sounds serious."
"Well, it's only a feeler. About a job here. How would you like to work for Amanda?"
"You – you mean it?"
"Uh-huh. It wouldn't be till the end of summer, so you've got time to decide. Then if you wanted to, you could become my assistant, kind of. You'd get paid, naturally. And there wouldn't be a hell of a lot of work to do."
"Your assistant. Fleur, would that make you my boss?"
"Umm. Only in a manner of speaking. Oh shit, don't worry about that. There's just one boss in this house – and she isn't so hard to please, is she?"
"Not hard at all. But whose idea was it, hers or yours?"
"Who remembers? It just came up, that's all. Because of this afternoon, I guess. The three of us together, even the way we look, you know? A blonde, a brunette and a redhead."
"Auburn."
"Huh? Yeah, sure. Auburn. We still go great together. And it's still a good job for you, so think it over, doll-baby. Not now, though, you don't have to make any decision for a while. So if you'll just forget it and give me a pretty smile…"
"I-I wish you hadn't told me. It's on my mind now. I mean the idea of having two bosses…"
"You figure I'm the bossy type? Relax, darling, just relax and let me pet you and soothe you. Ill whisper sweet nothings in your ear and blow all the bad thoughts away, humm?"
A hush fell. Except that she actually did lean over and start whispering. As much as the words, her warm breath in my ear sent a shiver through me. But the words were nice, too, what I could understand of them – all about how beautiful I was and how much fun we could have together and how easy it would be to fit myself into the household and just enjoy life. Our kind of life. Wasn't it almost like a dream come true?
I nodded my head, agreeing with anything and everything, even the breathy murmurs and monosyllables that didn't quite register. She was cuddling me close, massaging my back with soft fingers as her other arm formed an embrace that ended with the stroke of a soft palm on my belly. I was beginning to feel relaxed, sure enough, accepting her as a friend, a protector, almost an older sister. But there was something else too, the caress on my back had traveled slowly downward and I became acutely conscious of a churning excitement in my body. Now she was manipulating the separate curves of my belly and buttocks to the same rhythm, applying a gradually increased pressure with both hands.
The whisper faded, but her lips remained to nibble at my earlobe, bringing memories of a far more intimate bit of nibbling. And that was where those lips had just nibbled. Then, somehow, even as the tip of her hot tongue darted into my ear, she managed to get rid of the pajama-top without losing her hold on me. Not that I tried to escape, of course; why upset this lovely applecart? But even with a struggle, it wouldn't have mattered – the in-between moment was simply too brief. Maybe she kept control with just her tongue in my ear, an exquisitely maddening sensation that didn't allow much rational thought. Regardless, now we were both naked and unencumbered, a major step in any seduction. If that was what this purported to be, a lesbian seduction…
Well? Come on! Seduce me, lover, seduce the shit out of me with those hot lesbian lips!
I needn't have worried. She had a fresh grip now, and I found myself enveloped in her arms, my heart throbbing wildly as our overheated bodies cleaved together. Her breasts crushed me. Or were mine crushing hers? Who was dominating whom? She tightened her embrace to still my nervous squirming, and then I felt the silky length of her leg capture mine, entwining it to immobility and reinforcing the contact of our bellies. Some contact! Almost gratifying as a tongue-fuck. Her hair was crisp and bushy down there, thick enough to get tangled with my own. Only it seemed to go beyond that, threading its way through to agitate the lips of my cunt, the strands poking around to take advantage of every opening, pushing aside the pulpy flesh to scratch and scrape my clitoris with dogged determination. Fucked by a growth of hair, imagine; was such a thing possible?
She kissed me then, adjusting to the angle and ramming her tongue into my mouth roughly, brusque but understandable, necessary to seal and preserve the juncture lake a dovetail joint. Except that flesh is more flexible than wood, thank heaven – ah, the flexibility of the female tongue! – and the core of our kiss didn't have to remain static. Far from it. The core, the molten core, a marriage of tongues. Cunt to cunt, tits to tits, lips to lips – and I licked the inside of Fleur Halevy's beautiful mouth and sucked on her soft tongue and mashed my clitoris against the relentless rasp of her pubic pelt, still wondering if such a mixed-up fuck could lead to a climax.
I never did get to find out. Still kissing, she unlocked her leg from mine and ended the tight embrace. All of a sudden there was space between our bodies; now the kiss seemed abnormal, the only thing we had in common, a meeting of mouths. I uttered a stifled groan, feeling terribly deprived and a bit bewildered by this apparently capricious letdown. She chuckled and touched me with her hand, just a touch, dabbing at my forlorn but still fervid cunt with one outstretched finger. My back arched as I jerked in spasmodic reaction, my torso flying up off the bed in a desperate effort to latch onto that hand, to fuse my craving flesh with that obscenely cruel finger. I sucked on her tongue, whimpering in my throat and finally coming to the conclusion that this woman was making a fool of me.
Only it wasn't so final. Once again there was a swift change, a momentary disappointment that culminated in sheer ecstasy, an end to one kiss and I the beginning of another. Her hot mouth moved with impetuous haste, breaking our last bond and swooping down upon my cunt to start afresh. Only it would have to be a short one, considering the state I was in. Somehow, important as it was, I couldn't even attempt an appraisal of her action. It was happening, the thing I wanted most to happen – she's sucking my cunt! – but that was about as much as my bemused brain could cope with.
Lips clung in soft suction. The tip of her tongue grazed my inflamed clit, sending me into an arch again, pitching and tossing so frantically this time that her head was dislodged. But she was back an instant later, and I managed to maintain a semblance of decorum even in the face of my onrushing orgasm. Oh sure, I wailed a little and spewed out a few elegantly dirty words, but no cuntlapper was ever made more welcome. I just loved that tongue of hers, the way it hit the high spots with a kind of practiced ease, an expertise recognizable even to an amateur like me. And after a while I sank into a semi-swoon and just let the erotic bliss billow over my body, deliciously unbearable…
That night was like a revelation. To both of us, as it turned out – and our embrace was repeated often during the ensuing weeks. Despite a certain allegiance to the boss-lady, Fleur was ingenious at finding the time and the place. She seemed to get a peculiar kick out of being furtive about it, sneaking me off to the side for a feverishly quick session almost on impulse. It wasn't so very difficult really, since she was familiar with every nook and cranny of the house and surrounding grounds. As she soon became familiar with every nook and cranny of me. Even when there were guests around, she seldom failed to think of a likely spot where we might indulge in our little pastime.
Now and then it was impossible to go all the way. But her fingers were nearly as clever as her mouth, and even with other people close by she could bring me to a peak. Sometimes such daring actually heightened the sensation. It did for her, I was sure, and she took advantage of every opportunity. Once, in the haze of twilight, she backed me against a tree – just outside the screened porch where Amanda was entertaining; what a lark! – and I had to bite my lips to keep from betraying our presence. That small but slyly prodigious hand of hers had a magic touch.
But it was her tongue that I craved most, not her fingers, and we were both happiest in those moments of utmost intimacy when she could crouch and nuzzle into my cunt. Oh, there was no end to her ingenuity! And no end to my willingness to go along with her schemes, even the most rash and impulsive ones. Especially since they always led to satisfaction for me. That was important. Regardless of the circumstances, the pattern of our lovemaking didn't vary much. Fleur thirsted for my flesh and I gave it to her. And although I was aware that her body must have yearned for a reciprocal caress, she made no such demands on me. I liked that. It helped balance the other thing, my humility, the almost servile submissiveness that I manifested toward Amanda when my Eloi mood took over. I could even feel something akin to a Morlock frame of mind now; after all, it was pretty exhilarating to be the object of such zealous attention. And from such a beautiful little creature, too – what a thrill! – there were times when I actually felt loved…
Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration. But certainly there was more than just friendliness in this intense and apparently inviolate relationship. The secrecy, the subterfuge, the clandestine nature of our liaison made it more than mere dalliance. Between us an invisible current had sprung up, a current charged with sex; we could sense it in a wink, a gesture, a signal across a crowded room, even an all but innocent glance. No matter how innocent on the surface though, it was always an illicit kind of sex, dark and mysterious and rife with unknown possibilities.
Sex, then, not love. Fleur was a sophisticated lesbian sexpot, making me feel wanted but also wanton – so shamelessly wanton, what fun! – and that was inducement enough to sanction her advances under any label. To accept her, to welcome her with open arms. Or spread legs. Or whatever. And why not? Wasn't it in the cards for us, a cute little cunt and a cute little cuntlapper? Besides, the sheer physical sensation was breathtaking. Even when she had my bare ass backed up against a tree! And in the aftermath of each explosive episode came a soothing contentment that made life among the idle rich even more luxurious. Truly, I had fallen into the lap of luxury – not bad for a runaway roadside waif who had reached the peninsula like an illegal alien, smuggled in under a cunty skirt.