Lust Unlimited is a triple-sized slice of sizzling erotica by the bestselling team of Jay Lawrence and Harry Neptune. This hot new collection gathers all their stories about those fictional international swingers, Jay, the woman no man would want to resist, and Harry, the stud who no woman could. Follow the unforgettable adventures of this swinging couple whose erotic exploits are guaranteed to both moisten your undies and split your sides. From Canada to the Caribbean, this dynamic duo takes on all-comers-a tag-team for whom little is off limits and nothing is taken completely seriously! Here's a volume that combines wicked British humor in the style made popular by TV shows like "Absolutely Fabulous" and the hilarious "Carry On" series, with a juicy selection of ultra kinky pursuits! Included in this giant helping of scandalous doings are the novelettes "Lust or Bust!," "Mr. Neptune's Convalescence," "Jingle Tingle," "Trouble In Paradise," plus the full-length novel Lust at Sea. Previously you would have had to purchase three books of short stories and one novel to read these great tales – but now they are yours in one giant volume. An Amazon. com review gives Jay Lawrence's work 5 stars, and raves, "first rate, of a literary standard not often encountered within the erotica genre." When Jay and Harry set forth in search of fun, Lust Unlimited isn't just a title. It's a fact.
The Publishers
Lust or Bust!
"What a dismal place! Now, don't get me wrong, my darling, I'd come to see you if you were camped out in the frozen wastes of Siberia, but I have to say you deserve a medal for surviving here as long as you have."
I reclined on Harry's new sofa, savoring its luxuriant squishiness and gratefully imbibing a glass of red wine. It had been a long day of bouncing bus followed by cut-price airline and hedonism seemed like the perfect antidote to my travel travails. Harry sighed in agreement, busy multi-tasking dinner in the open-plan kitchen of his apartment. Intriguing savory whiffs issued from the oven and my stomach gurgled a distress call.
"Don't I know it, dearie. It wouldn't be so bad if there was something I could actually despise about this town, but it's just plain blah."
"Like microwave dinners."
"Yep."
My friend leaned upon his work surface and looked morose. I wriggled my toes against the upholstery and pondered the possibilities. One brief weekend in a charmless northern town, sprawled like a canker sore across the vast and featureless prairie. Oil and gas had built the place, blizzards held it captive half the year. My visit coincided with a thaw, stale melt-water turning brown grass to mush. Yuck.
"Hmm. Oh well, we'll just have to make our own entertainment, won't we? If we can have a good time in this Godforsaken place, we can have a good time anywhere!"
Harry brightened up a little.
"That's true. I could always take you to the Log Jam tomorrow night. Hmm, yes, and then on for a curry at that Tandoori place I've been meaning to try. You game?"
A familiar glint had entered my friend's eyes and I remembered his gleeful description of the Log Jam pub where some astute local entrepreneur had obviously hired the waitresses with sleaze-appeal at the forefront of his mind.
"You should see the tits on one of them…"
"I'd like to, very much. Now stop it, you're making me horny and I'm bloody ravenous. Feed me!"
"Yes dear. I hope you like mushrooms."
"I like everything, sweetie."
"Bad girl."
The Log Jam was a common or garden kind of place, booths for couples and groups of friends, a motley selection of post-work guys at the bar. The TV was turned to the sports channel, discussion revolved around the respective merits of the local ice hockey teams. Harry picked one of those small tall tables with high chairs to give his little lady a bird's eye view. I eased myself up with as much grace as I could muster, having left my climbing equipment at home. The vista was both broad and breathtaking.
"Well!"
"Told you."
There were five girls working the shift that evening, each offered a different variation on a theme. The overall gestalt was definitely "tarty" but tarty came in various flavors, from ebony with waist-length braided hair to bleached blonde and busty. Tight, mid-thigh skirts were the order of the day and skimpy, boob-enhancing tops. My silky panties began to moisten but I couldn't resist a giggle too. Harry grinned.
"Quite blatant, isn't it? There was one the other day in a blue plastic mini-skirt. I thought I'd never see straight again."
"Alert! Alert! The blonde's coming our way."
I attempted to compose my lust-drenched features to a pastiche of respectable thirty-something-about-town. It's not that easy being a rampant bi-sexual, even in these more enlightened times. A pair of round brown breasts, thoughtfully gift-wrapped in a sky blue T-shirt with neckline plunging halfway to heaven, inquired what they could get for us. Harry ordered wine as I concentrated hard on the delectable hooters, positively bereft when they jiggled off to fetch our drinks. An artfully placed badge on her bosom said "Caron" but she looked like a Norma to me. I could see her as a naughty nurse, twin mounds of firm tan tit-flesh bursting triumphantly from a mini overall, straining buttons popping as she leaned solicitously over her ward.
"I want her. Will you get her for me, please?"
My request was playful, issued in jest, but I rarely say anything I do not mean. Harry groaned.
"You'll get us arrested one of these days. OK then, lover-girl, try scribbling our phone number when she brings the check."
"Nah, cheesy. She'll think we're trying to kidnap her for our cult or something."
"Chance'd be a fine thing!"
"Two glasses of Mountain Vale. Can I get you anything else?"
The flesh had returned, bearing a tray. I fixed the waitress with my best intense-sex-goddess-come-hither-I-want-to-eat-you gaze.
"Yes, Norma, you can. We would like you to come home with us. Would that be a problem for you?"
The deafening sound of Harry's jaw dropping to the table top almost distracted me from my mission but I pressed on, certain that every ear in the room was straining to hear my pervy wiles. My panties were soaking; my eyes were level with her tits. I asked them nicely.
"You'd make us very happy. Both of you. I mean all of you. I mean…"
The waitress threw back her head and laughed, eliciting a boob-quake of epic proportions. I sensed Harry's jaw leave the table and a faint panting sound replaced the incredulous silence.
"Right. Well, I don't finish up here 'til midnight so you're going to have to wait. Give me your address and I'll see what I can do. I'm not making any promises, 'kay? Enjoy your wine."
With a victory roll of her well-padded hips, she stomped off to serve another customer, throwing an amused glance back at our salivating forms. Harry took a large gulp of Merlot and made fish-eyes at me through the bowl of the wine glass. I stuck my tongue out at him in defiance. My friend retrieved his wallet and examined his supermarket discount card thoughtfully.
"Well, do you think she's a real tart? Is she going to make us pay for it?"
"I don't know. Do you have any condoms?"
"Of course. They might be past their sell-by date, though."
"Poor darling. Does this place have a late-night drugstore?"
"Let's go for that curry and then see what happens. Take things as they come. As it were."
"I know what happens when I have a curry!"
"Dirty beast!"
Jay got halfway to the Tandoori restaurant before she started complaining.
"No, they're not new shoes! I just haven't worn them for a while. If it's much further I'll take them off and charge you for new tights."
"Well, I'm not carrying you. I remember the last time I tried to sweep you off your feet."
I was waiting for the handbag swing and it missed by a mile.
"Temper, temper! Not far now."
The Tandoori house was new to me, but we had found an advert for it in a tourist brochure (tourists in this burg?) and it had a web site. Must be all right. More to the point, we had a ten percent off voucher from the brochure.
The frontage was unprepossessing at first sight, then one noticed the life-size picture of two smiling chefs and smelled an enticing aroma. We marched in.
"Do you have a reservation sir?"
I put on my best all-maitre-d's-are-my-best-friends smile and admitted to not having thought so far ahead. Jay tapped her foot. I hate it when she does that. Anyway, the boss found a table for us near the music and handed us over to a sari-clad usher.
The place was big – two hundred covers at least. The atmosphere was dark, the music live – sitar and percussion from two gentlemen sitting cross-legged on a small stage.
Water appeared, followed by a waiter. I groaned. Jay had her lust-filled look on again, this time the hetero variety (not that I can tell the difference).
The waiter was young, dark-haired, slim to the point of underweight, and servile. He wore a badge that read 'lraC'. 'lraC'? Oh, I see. An upside-down badge.
Jay hauled her tongue back in her mouth long enough to order chai, and I settled for more red wine. I often do that – I hate to see a poor vintner.
The waiter led us through the menu, necessary in my case because the darkness rendered the small print unreadable. I settled for chicken dopiaza and some poppadums and sauces to take the edge off the appetite.
Jay would have ordered jerk goat if the waiter had recommended it. Her menu flopped around as she read it, and I realized one hand was out of sight. I leaned slightly to the waiter's side of the table and saw the Lawrence claw stealthily approach the waiter's trousers. I kicked her and she glared at me, rubbing her shin with the lascivious hand. Dinner first, hanky panky after, in my book. She ordered lamb curry and we added naan bread and rice. A goodly mixture.
When the waiter had retreated, backwards for the first two steps, Jay spoke.
"My knickers are soaking!"
"You should have gone before we left the Log Jam," I replied practically. A spoon rapped me on the knuckle.
"That earns you a paddling when we get back," I said. The spoon rapped again and Jay grinned. I know how to get round her.
I glanced down at the table and we both started. Poppadums and three varieties of spicy sauce had appeared as if by magic. Not even Jay had noticed the waiter put them there. We tucked in, Jay with a dreamy look on her face.
Twenty minutes later lraC materialized again with the main course. It was excellent. I would have paid for it even without the ten percent off coupon. We concentrated on the food, and I also concentrated on eating it in the gloom without making too much of a mess on the tablecloth.
After a while the pace slowed and I began to pay attention to my surroundings. The two-man band changed melody frequently, and though my knowledge of Indian music is profound, I thought I recognized an air. I cocked my head in an intellectual fashion and listened.
"Have you got cramp? Heart burn? Your face is all screwed up."
"I am appreciating the music, you ignorant trollop. Listen – what do you hear?"
"Sounds familiar…"
"Of course it is, you bimbo. 'Those Were the Days, My Friend', by Mary Hopkin." The last time I had seen Mary Hopkin was in a Welsh youth club in nineteen umpty um.
The sitar player was a virtuoso. He went on to 'Bridge Over Troubled Waters' by way of 'Que Sera Sera' before returning to the Indian sub-continent and a flute.
Coffee came, and the bill. Jay's eyes gleamed as she returned to her original (and frequent) theme of the evening.
"I want him."
"Greedy. What about Norma?"
"I want…"
She didn't have to finish the sentence. I knew. All comers welcome. lraC returned with my sadly battered credit card. Jay's face was thoughtful for a moment, then she decided her strategy. She dug her sharp fingernails into the scant flesh of the waiter's wrist.
"You're coming with us."
The waiter stared at his imprisoned wrist and tried in vain to pull away. I wondered if he would scream for help. But no. There was even a hint of – something – in his eye. Jay dressed her voice in leather.
"You are coming with us."
The waiter struggled feebly. It looked like he would need some help.
I sighed. "What time do you finish work, lraC?"
"Midnight, sir."
I gave him a card. "This is the address. Be there no later than half past twelve. Don't bring a friend. We've got one for you."
Jay released the boy and smoldered at him. She is a good smolderer. lraC dropped his eyes, nodded, hopped a little from foot to foot, and sidled off. Jay flicked his legs with a napkin. His tush wriggled and he picked up speed.
"He's a foot licker, dear. You'll still have to get your oats from me."
"And Norma," said Jay in a dreamy voice.
"That's it! I've simply got to take these darned boots off!"
We had reached the fourth floor of Harry's apartment building and I leaned against the wall to unzip and remove the offending footwear. Harry gave me his best long-suffering "I really don't mind you lowering the tone of the place if you absolutely must, but do get on with it" look and I swung the slightly steaming boots from one hand as we reached his door. It was a surreal kind of night. There was even a raucous, giggling group of residents gathered in the amenity room downstairs, apparently watching a young man wrestling with a blow-up plastic doll. Hoots and cackles echoed through the stillness of the prairie night.
"I bet that's the most fun you've encountered since you've been here!"
"You're not wrong."
"Eek – it's not long 'til midnight! What shall we do? Hide under the bed?"
Harry sighed and fixed me with a baleful gaze.
"You got us into this, Lawrence, and you can deal with the consequences. No hiding. Unless, of course, it's the other kind of hiding. Which, all things considered, I think you most definitely deserve."
My stomach turned over and I looked up (way up, actually) at my forbidding friend. I recalled our mutual interest and the small package I had sent as a house-warming gift. Warming it was indeed…
"I think I'd like another glass of wine."
"Chicken!"
"Never in a million years, sweetie, but Norma and lraC will be here soon. We wouldn't want to scare them away now, would we?"
"You might have a point there."
Harry replenished our glasses and we killed some time by watching a somewhat cheesy blue movie and giggling like a pair of fourteen year olds where we probably weren't supposed to be giggling. The plot, such as it was, revolved around an Eastern European sex club, and, by way of coincidence, a faint but penetrating beat from the gathering downstairs, generously punctuated with whoops and cat-calls, suggested that some live exotic entertainment had been added to the mix. Harry raised one eyebrow.
"Wonder if Housekeeping knows about this. It's probably against regulations. Maybe I should go and, um, tell 'em to keep it down. Or something."
"Pervy lech. If you're going down for a peek through the keyhole, I'm coming too. Maybe we could gatecrash the bar mitzvah or whatever it is they're doing down there. How's your Yiddish?"
"Oi vey!"
At that moment, there was a cacophony of lustful braying and thunderous applause.
"I think we missed the boat, angel."
"Story of my life."
A few minutes later, just as we had settled into a slothful post-curry/booze/sleaze stupor, there was a hesitant knock on the door. Harry slapped my thigh and thrust an executive finger in the direction of the tapping.
"On you go then, dear! Mind you, knowing our luck, it's probably the Avon lady."
"Then I'll order some wrinkle cream for you, shall I?" I retorted smartly. My heart began to throb double-time as I turned the knob and peered around the door.
"I can't stay long and it'll cost you two hundred. No tax, I'm doing a special for the month of April."
"Oh, Ha-rry! We have com-pany!"
With a sudden lunge I grasped the girl and pulled her inside. She was wearing a shiny PVC raincoat, collar turned up and tightly belted at the waist, and, for some unaccountable reason, six-inch white stilettos.
"Interesting fashion statement. May I take your coat, Norma?"
"Thanks. I'm all sticky but I couldn't go tramping through the halls in this get-up!"
The girl slid out of her coat and I almost slid to my knees. She was almost wearing a naughty nurse's outfit – her amazing breasts threatened to burst out of a tight white overall, unbuttoned to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of lacy scarlet bra. Fine white fishnet stockings completed the costume, scarlet-gartered, tanned and sturdy thighs disappearing beneath the bottom-skimming skirt. Norma adjusted her boobs and tottered towards Harry who appeared to have lost the use of his legs.
"This is Harry, Norma. He may be in need of some medical attention."
Nurse Norma giggled and, with a practiced wriggle, stepped up onto the coffee table, giving Harry an eyeful up her short, tight skirt. The executive finger jerked towards the CD player, shaking slightly with a kind of pulsing, hypertensive beat. I grabbed the remote and pressed "play." The groaning strains of Roy Orbison immediately filled the room and I rummaged through the rack for something a little raunchier. Norma turned her back on Harry, spread her legs, dipped down to grasp her ankles and frowned.
"Got any Eminem?"
"I doubt it, Norma. Hmm, Black Sabbath. Give that a go."
Frenetic seventies guitar riffs replaced the groaning.
"Never heard of them. They don't sound black to me."
"Show us your titties!"
I maintained my usual air of mature nonchalance. If I smoked a pipe I would have filled and tamped it, and concentrated on puffing it into life to the exclusion of all external distractions.
I gave up smoking twenty years ago, so I looked at Norma. Those stilettos – should I tell her what a podiatrist once told me? Perhaps later.
Norma was bent double, gripping her ankles and swaying to the music. Her skirt rode up her derriere displaying tight red panties. Not those thong things disappearing up her crack, but real sensuous material caressing her five pounds overweight. She moved her feet further apart and swayed harder. Her mound pressed against the red material. The material moved slightly over her as the music pounded.
"Show us your titties!"
That woman has no couth. All the same, Norma turned and straightened. The skirt fell back to just below heaven and she raised her arms above her head.
"Pant! Pant! Pant!"
Miss Lawrence was in heat. She flopped onto the big squishy sofa next to me and laid her hand on my thigh. Norma ran her fingers through her hair and tossed her head. She put what I think was supposed to be a sultry expression on her face and leered first at me, then at Jay.
Jay made to grab Norma by whatever part of her was nearest, but I was too quick for her. I hauled her back, not taking my own eyes off Norma as she ran her hands down her face to her neck.
Jay struggled toward the gyrating nurse. I let her go a few inches and looked up at Norma. I winked.
Norma's hands ran down her top to cup her breasts. They didn't need any lifting, but she lifted them anyway and rolled them lasciviously. She pouted – I swear she pouted! This was every cheap striptease rolled into one! Jay was lapping it up. For such a small person she is strong. I let her get another few inches toward Norma's bounteous form.
"Lemme at her! Titties!"
I was holding Jay by her arms now as she stretched forward, mouth open and eyes wide. Norma let go of her breasts and moved her hands down her belly. That girl had the extra pounds in all the right places. As her hands met her thighs she started to bend at the waist. Her hands reached her knees and the valley of her breasts opened before us in its red bra frame.
Norma shook from side to side and her breasts went with her. They jiggled and joggled and strained and teased. Jay pulled against me and slavered but she wasn't going anywhere – not yet.
Norma slowly stood up again, picking up the hem of her skirt as she rose. She lifted the skirt high, up to her heaving bosom. She thrust her lacy red panties at Jay's face.
"Gurgle! Oofa! Wanna!"
I let Jay's face advance to within six inches of Norma's heavenly vision and held her there. Norma thrust hard at her, never quite touching. She had given up the cod pout and now was grinning at the expression on Jay's face. Jay's tongue darted forward and Norma moved back just beyond reach.
"Oogle argle wanna!"
"Not yet, my wanton little…"
Norma had had her effect on me, and I knew exactly what Miss Lawrence was going to do about it. I pulled my rabid friend back to the sofa and took a firm grip on her hair. She didn't even make an "Ow," just made another bid to get at Norma's flesh.
I unzipped my pants and pushed Jay's head down. She kept her eyes on Norma as she took me in her mouth and began sucking frantically. Norma performed some pelvic thrusts. The pressure on my rock hard jolly stick reached Hoover Deluxe proportions.
"'ithies! 'ithies!"
"I think she said 'Titties!' Norma. It's time to get them out."
Norma undid two buttons of her top. Her fingers went to the clasp of the red bra and snapped it open. Then she showed that she has a future in this game. In a flurry of movement, she performed some three dimensional magic and the bra was dangling from one upraised arm! She dropped it on Jay's bobbing head and…
…began to do up the buttons again!
"Urgle! Noffa!"
Jay tried to lift her head from my lap but now was not the time to break the rhythm. I pushed her down and watched Norma with interest. An unstoppable pressure was building in the direction of Miss Lawrence's tonsils.
The material of the shift was thin, and Norma's nipples were mighty. They pressed the white cloth out until it molded itself to her form. Norma picked up my forgotten wine glass and held it over her breasts. Slowly she tipped the glass until a drop of deep red wine splashed onto her straining bosom. She sent the next drop onto the other breast, then soaked the material with a steady stream of best (that I can afford) Burgundy.
The shift darkened, but became transparent too. Norma poured the rest of the glass over her breasts and thrust her chest forward, guardsman fashion. Her nipples were clearly visible now through the soaked material.
"Mmyahh!"
My little friend's eyes were popping out. One hand had disappeared beneath her long skirt and her arm moved convulsively as she frigged herself in time with her sucking.
My own breath was coming slightly quicker now. It was time for Miss Lawrence to get her mouthwash. I felt my member pulse with the coming tide. I leaned back into the soft sofa and gave myself up to Jay's eager mouth. This was going to be…
…Norma picked up the bottle of wine and poured a stream over her magnificent breasts. All opaqueness disappeared from the shift. There were her breasts in blood red glory…
…I grasped Jay's head with both hands. Just when I thought I had come all I could, Norma put the neck of the bottle in her mouth and fellated it, her eyes fixed on mine. I swear I came again. Jay swore that too, later – among other things.
At last I released Jay's head. She was on her knees in a flash. One dry hand and one sticky hand reached for the still gyrating red-soaked nurse.
Knock.
That wasn't Black Sabbath.
Knock.
No ghosts in this building – too new.
Knock.
The door.
"Get the door, dear," I said in as steady a voice as I could manage. One has to keep up appearances.
"Get it yourself!"
With practiced ease I swung her over my knee, lifted up her skirt, pulled down her knickers, landed three hefty smacks on her squirming posterior, rearranged her clothing, and pushed her on her way to the door. She gave me a pretty good glare, but the executive finger had her off on her errand.
With a gasp I was pressed back into the sofa by a pair of strong succulent thighs. Norma's red clad quim hovered before my eyes. I dragged my gaze up beyond the cloudscape of her boobies to her wickedly grinning face. She leered down at me.
"Fancy a drink?"
One hand pulled her panties outward and the other tipped the neck of the bottle. With a glug, wine coursed down her belly and into red clad heaven. Norma pushed me further back. The first drops seeped through the material and into my mouth.
"For one moment, I thought I had the wrong address."
The young waiter hovered in the corridor, nerves issuing palpably from his lightweight frame. Smiling reassuringly, I slid my arm through his and neatly maneuvered him through the door.
"Do come in, lraC! We're having a little soiree and your input would be most welcome. Take your coat and boots off and put them in the hall closet, there's a good lad. Mr. Neptune does loathe a mess." lraC obliged, then his eyes opened wide at the libidinous scene in Harry's pad.
"Neptune? Sounds fishy to me. And if he doesn't like mess, what is that girl doing on his sofa? You'll never get the stains out."
"Oh!"
I gasped, despite myself. Harry reclined in a yielding nest of soft beige suede, Norma's scarlet clad bottom pressed hard against his ecstatic face. Tiny flames of arousal lapped at my pussy as I watched his mouth work upon her lace clothed mound of Venus, his tongue pushing through the skimpy cloth to taste the sweet juice within. The girl clasped the half-empty bottle of wine in one hand, slowly dribbling the red liquid down her round brown belly for Harry to suck from her neatly trimmed quim. Giggling, she kept pulling at her panties, tugging them away from her luscious flesh, then letting them snap back against her waist with a satisfying elastic sound.
"Ping!"
Norma giggled loudly, then moaned in pleasure, as Harry's large hands cupped and appraised her full buttocks, searching fingertips disappearing beneath the flimsy cloth. The first fluttering butterfly wings of an orgasm caught me by surprise and I thrust a thumb in the waiter's gaping mouth.
"Oh god, yes! Go, Harry, go!!"
There was an intense mumbling from my randy friend, which confirmed that he was indeed going if not gone.
I grabbed lraC and drew him towards the sofa, feeling his nervy resistance melt in the face of such lustful acts. Norma had laid down the bottle and stripped off her dress. Now she ground her hips against Harry's face, forcing him down, down into the super-squishy depths of the comfy couch. He lay on his back, glasses askew, blissfully siphoning the last traces of wine from the naughty girl's panties. Her pneumatic boobs finally bounced completely free above Harry's head and his hands left her knickers and grasped the mighty melons, rhythmically squeezing their firm brown pulchritude. I desperately longed to feel those titties for myself, but I hate to see a grown man cry.
"Mmm! Yes! Mmm! Yes!"
Norma was beginning to shriek with pleasure, her bottom wobbling rather deliciously as her climax approached. Quick as a flash, I knelt behind her and pulled her ravaged panties down, just enough to slide my tongue into the sweet, musky cleft of her tight little ass. Gauging Harry's rhythm, I began to tease the neat pink rosebud, then we cunnilinged a deux, swiftly slurping Norma's hot wet pussy to an orgasm of mammoth proportions. It felt like an earthquake.
"JESUS! Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!"
As she came down from the pinnacle of ecstasy, we continued to drink her juices, licking it from each other's lips, dipping our tongues into each other's mouths, chasing her honey into every succulent crevice of her throbbing quim. It was then that I felt lraC's slender hands upon my own hips, as light and deferential as a trainee house boy. I reached around Norma's body and cupped her boobs, then fed one swollen nipple into Harry's mouth. His eyes closed in pure delight, lips working as a hungry babe. lraC lifted my skirt and began to ease my panties down. I rubbed my breasts against Norma's broad, strong back, grinding my bottom against the waiter's exploring hands.
"Halftime! Change ends!"
"When I'm good and ready."
Harry muttered through a mouthful of bosom, intently engaged upon teasing the girl's nipple with the tip of his tongue. I had never seen such big, round nipples and it looked like a deeply pleasurable game. I ran my own tongue down the sticky column of her spine, feeling my soaking panties slide down to my knees. Reverently, lraC began to kiss my bottom, printing a myriad of tiny teasing nibbles all over the contours of my ass. I gasped and licked a drop of sweat from the nape of Norma's neck. Her hair was bleached blonde, almost brittle, and I reveled in the cheap trollop-ness of her. It was then that the CD player clicked to another disc and the rousing strains of a well-known musical filled the room.
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-Oh-klahoma!"
Oklahoma! Where the hell did that come from? It must have got put back in the wrong box. Never mind, to change it I would have to climb through two panting girls and lraC, and it was anyone's guess where the remote had got to.
"Halftime! Change ends!"
"Oh, all right."
Reluctantly I let Norma's pulsing nipple slide out of my mouth. Jay grabbed her shoulders, twisted her round, and plonked her in my lap. It looked like I was going to sit this orgy out. lraC lost his balance as a Lawrence hip clouted him across the face and he fell to the floor. He propped his head on one hand and watched for a moment, probably wondering where he fitted into this melee of arms and legs. Then the music swelled to another rousing crescendo and he began to jiggle his gamin little hips to the beat. I could just see him in a lime green catsuit.
I reached round Norma for her wondrous breasts, but the little tit-sucker was there before me. She was alternately suckling on each, opening her mouth greedily to leave the maximum area of wetness.
I gave Jay's titty a tweak through her velvet top. She didn't take any notice so I took a firm grip on her nipple through the material and gave a good squeeze and turn. Jay yelped and knelt upright. I grabbed the other nipple and gave that a good tug as well. Jay yelped again. She does like a bit of pain with her pleasure.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh!"
"OH-KLAHOMA!!!" bellowed the CD player at full volume. I glared at lraC, who smiled sheepishly and passed me the remote. The silly boy must have rolled on it. There was a sharp tapping on the ceiling and I offered my invisible neighbor a two-finger salute before returning to the matter in hand.
Norma lay back against me and hooked her ankles round my calves. I peered over her shoulder and her breasts at the sopping red panties outlining her lovely mound. What a find! You don't get many Normas to the pound.
Jay slapped my hands away from her nipples and clambered to her feet. She bounced onto her knees on the sofa beside me and took Norma's head between her hands. She looked deep into Norma's eyes with what I think was supposed to be a soulful expression. Either that or the curry was repeating on her. The soulful look lasted all of three seconds – close to Jay's record for foreplay – before she planted her lips hard on the waitress's.
Norma waved her arms in the air for a moment, then gave up the unequal struggle. She put one hand behind Jay's neck and I felt the other slide down my thigh and head for the Lawrence quim.
Norma's full bottom ground into my crotch. Now with a little wriggling – there – I could be in a position to – just get those panties off and I'll be in her – damn they're tight over her spread legs…
"May I be of assistance, sir?"
"Certainly, boy. Get them off her." lraC gripped the waistline and tugged gently, then harder, but with Norma's thighs still spread wide and her feet firmly hooked round me, there was no moving them.
"Rip 'em off, boy."
"Of course, sir." lraC briefly allowed a feral grin to attach itself to his features. There was a satisfying tearing sound. Jay groaned loudly into Norma's mouth. She likes that kind of thing.
Now there was nothing between me and Norma's brand of heaven. It was the work of a moment to ease my still rampant tool into her dripping pussy. Immediately she started a rhythmic gyration. Her thigh muscles hardened against mine. I reached down to give some bonus stimulation, but Lawrence was there before me. She knows what she is doing so I went once more for Norma's joyously bobbling boobs.
Jay was kneeling over Norma now, still kissing her furiously as she teased her clit. Every once in a while their lips would part for a moment and I caught a glimpse of lashing tongues.
"If I may make so bold, madam…" lraC had his slim hands on Jay's derriere again. He planted a kiss on one ample buttock as it rose to meet him. Her knickers were round her knees so there was no need to run up her lingerie bill. lraC's face disappeared into the Lawrence rear end.
"Oogah! Mmyah!"
Evidently lraC had found the Lawrence love button. He had a firm hold on her thighs and from the strangled noises emanating from my friend, he was well stuck into his task. Norma's spare hand reappeared from under Jay's skirt and grabbed one of her breasts. Her fingers dug in and she was rewarded with redoubled ardor. Quick learner, that girl.
I added some thrusting of my own to Norma's gyrating hips. Jay frigged her frantically. I felt my second (or was it third?) orgasm spit on its hands and get ready to deliver. Norma's nipples were rock hard under my kneading fingers.
Jay achieved the remarkable feat of walking and chewing gum at the same time by grinding herself into lraC's face as she slobbered furiously all over Norma's lips. Quite a face fest.
Norma grabbed Jay by her hair and hauled her head back.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
I took a firm grip and pounded into her. This was the home straight. She met me with each thrust. I rapidly approached that moment of nirvana when it is permitted for a gentleman to express his feelings.
"Yaargh!"
"Fuck me!"
"Yaargh!"
I flooded her pussy at the same moment my cock and Jay's fingers did the trick for Norma. Norma clamped down and squeezed the last drops of my juice into her.
"Yaargh!'
I have no idea if that last "yaargh!" was mine or Norma's, but I don't suppose it matters.
The next one, or a variation on the theme, came from Miss Lawrence.
"Yeergh! Lick me, lick me, lick me!"
Jay's face disappeared into its A1 climax expression. I normally shut my eyes, but Norma was not forewarned. Give that girl credit. She let go of Jay's hair and before my libidinous friend could move, fetched her a mighty slap across the cheek.
"OH YES! Oh yes! Oh yes!"
Jay collapsed into Norma's arms. Norma really is remarkably quick on the uptake.
Norma, in turn, collapsed into my arms. I lay under the two panting women counting my blessings. This had the makings of a good evening.
"May I interest anyone in a snack?"
"Mm, lovely, I'm famished! Got any Fringles, Harry?"
I cast my eye over Norma's luscious curves and mused that a big girl like her must need to nibble regularly to keep her strength up. She absentmindedly ran her hands over the wondrous boobs and I heard her stomach rumble. Harry extricated himself from the limb-fest and headed for the kitchen to have a rummage in his drawers. Suddenly hot, I peeled off my top and threw it on the carpet. Harry frowned, in the middle of popping open a tube of crispy snacks.
"Bad girl. Pick that up!"
This was an old game but a good one. Slyly, I thrust my naked breasts towards him, fixed my eyes upon the floor and pouted prettily.
"Shan't!"
Norma giggled and lraC cleared his throat expectantly (and, I noted, with more than a trace of interest).
"Jay."
Two pairs of interested eyes swiveled toward Harry and he sucked his stomach in. I stuck my chin out.
"Won't neither!"
I felt all eyes return to me, although I did not remove my gaze from the pristine rug.
"I see. Does someone want a nice bare bottom spanking in front of our guests? That could certainly be arranged."
"Ooh!"
Norma and lraC exclaimed simultaneously and I heard Harry snort with barely suppressed mirth.
"Right then. Norma, lraC, I must apologize for the unruly behavior of my little friend here. I'm obliged to tan her hide on a regular basis for the benefit of our mutual health and well being, as I'm sure you'll understand. She'd be quite unbearable otherwise. It's a tough job but someone's got to do it."
"Ooh, yes!"
Again, both spectators answered in unison and I finally raised my eyes to observe an interesting procession of expressions march across Harry's craggy visage. lraC slid to his knees on the carpet and Norma leaned forward intently, her huge boobs resting on her thighs.
"You know what to do, miss."
"Yes, sir."
Demurely, I sidled into the bedroom and returned with Harry's house-warming gift. There was an audible intake of breath, followed by a stereophonic gasp.
"Meet Aunt Jemima."
"Ooh, I've never seen one like that before!"
"It's so long. Look – the dangly bits are touching the floor…"
Harry coughed modestly and nonchalantly tossed some nuts into a dish.
"Yes, it is rather a fine specimen, isn't it? Fortunately, Miss Lawrence has excellent taste in, ahem, implements."
"Nothing worse than a budget flogger."
I laid Aunt Jemima on the kitchen counter, carefully arranging the long black leather strands to artful effect. It looked like a strange many-tentacled sea creature and I remembered Harry's pirate ancestry. Sometimes he can look quite scary…
"What to do? What to do?"
Harry finished filling bowls with assorted nibbles and slowly lifted the flogger in one hand, lovingly fondling its wicked tails. He looked thoughtful.
"Right, lraC. Have a rummage through the CD rack and put on something with a nice lash-concealing beat. The neighbors might not understand…"
My stomach turned over, delicious butterflies danced about my belly button. A public punishment, with witnesses! I had daydreamed about such a scenario but never imagined we'd pull it off. As it were… lraC crouched before Harry's CD collection, visibly bemused by the eclectic assortment of titles. Eventually, his face brightened and he pulled one out. Harry moved around the kitchen counter, the tails of his flogger casually draped over one broad shoulder. lraC fed the new disc into the slot. Harry gestured to Norma's bosom-filled lap. I raised my skirt to waist-height, then eased myself beneath the mighty mounds, feeling my pussy brush across Norma's solid thighs. She stiffened slightly.
"Harry, I hope you're a good shot with that thing of yours! I don't want my nipples singed."
"But of course I am, you silly girl. Press the button, lraC."
I felt an exhilarating rush of cool air pass over my exposed nether regions as Harry whisked his flogger energetically in a dramatic warm-up. Norma leaned back a little, although most of her breast-shelf remained in contact with my bum. There was a click and whirr from the CD player, then all hell broke loose.
'RAW HIDE!"
"Jesus Christ!"
I couldn't help myself this time; I just had to laugh, although I realized the half-suppressed giggles were making my bottom wobble in a rather unbecoming fashion. That song had always made me split my sides, never mind the current circumstances. Just as I pressed my face into the sofa cushion to staunch my mirth, the tails of the flogger snapped smartly against the tops of my thighs with a deeply satisfying thwack!
"Mmmm…"
The giggles were knocked out of me, swiftly replaced by a long moan of pleasure. A falsetto voice began to sing along to the tune and I turned my head to see lraC strutting his stuff on the living room rug. He hadn't quite got the hang of the lyrics, but close enough.
"Git 'em out, moov 'em out, whip 'em up, RAW-HIDE! Yee haw!"
Grimly, Harry continued to flog, his strokes out of synch with the whip cracks in the song. A violent trembling began above my bottom and I realized that Norma was laughing uncontrollably. lraC pranced over to the snack bowls and, quickly emptying out a couple of wooden dishes, used them like coconut shells to make a clip-clopping sound. Norma spluttered all over my ass and I wriggled under the light warm spray. Relentlessly, Harry flogged on. My cheeks were hot now, I imagined Norma's spit sizzling and steaming on their round scarlet mounds.
They thought I was joking when I said Jay needs regular chastisement to keep from becoming insufferable, but not a bit of it. No whacks equals cheeky. Without me she would get thrown off buses.
This, though, was something new. Until now, her punishments had always been private. Norma and lraC were laughing, but for us it was certainly no laughing matter. Jay's bottom rapidly turned red as I laid on the flogger with a will. I am a big fellow and I wasn't holding back. I wonder what our two new chums would have thought if they had seen some of our other games?
"Hey, you're really hitting her hard!"
Norma's expression had changed from amused to bemused. Jay was quite still now on her lap, eyes tight shut. I whipped her bottom and thighs with the tips of the flogger's strands, where the leather whistled through the air with maximum velocity.
One especially well aimed strike made Jay yelp and slip from Norma's lap.
"Hold her, Norma! Hold her hands behind her back. That's it. Don't let her move." lraC sat cross-legged on the floor watching with fascination. Every now and then he wriggled.
This was my first try at the flogger. Spanking was the norm. My big black belt lasted one session, bravely borne by Jay, but she would have no more of it. The bruises took two weeks to go away. Mind you, the first time I spanked the minx my hand was black and blue for days. I believe in doing a job properly.
Jay groaned now as each lash bit into her ravaged skin.
"Look at her Norma! Look at her lraC! Look at her naked red bottom. See how the marks run down her thighs. Look at her hands captured behind her. See how Norma controls her. See how helpless she is!" lraC's mouth was slightly open. He breathed hard from his lotus position.
Jay groaned louder. I took a step back now, then a step forward in time with the lash.
"Keep them doggies moving, Raw-hide!"
Step back, step forward, lash!
Norma started to look worried. I am an awful lot bigger than Jay, and I was using all my beef. Then Jay began to tremble and her groans ran into a bubbling scream. There was no mistaking an oncoming orgasm of titanic proportions. Norma brightened up. I readied myself for the last lap.
Lash! Lash! LASH!
Jay struggled furiously in Norma's firm grip. Suddenly Norma transferred both of Jay's wrists to one strong hand and with the other gripped the Lawrence hair. She tugged hard and Jay's head arced up.
LASH!
"YEEEEEEEEESSS!"
Jay's legs kicked. Norma pulled her to and fro by her tangled hair as I kept up the bombardment on her rear end.
I judged the moment before her orgasm became uncontrollable. I stopped.
Silence.
Jay screamed.
She screamed again.
I raised the whip and steadied myself. I waited. And waited again.
Silence.
I struck.
The whip came down on her red raw bottom with all the weight of me and my piratical forebears.
Jay's body convulsed as the climax rolled through her. Norma, eyes wide, held her firmly with one hand round her wrists and one hand in her hair.
A drop of bright blood appeared on Jay's thigh where a stray strand nicked her. Quick as a flash lraC darted forward and licked it away. He sniggered.
"RAW-HIDE!"
Dan Ackroyd's voice faded into the end of the track.
"Whoof!"
Norma looked as exhausted as Jay and me. lraC looked curiously untouched.
Mmmmmmmm…
There really is nothing to compare with the deep satiety of the post-disciplinary phase. Slowly, languidly, I slid to the carpet, printing a brief, grateful kiss on Norma's sturdy and now rather sticky knee. She looked down at me with a mischievous smile.
"Better?"
"Much better!"
It was a strange feeling, yet completely erotic. I crouched on the floor, thoroughly and stringently chastised, both buttocks tingling with the heat from the flogging, virtually naked but for my skirt, a crumpled hitched-up mass about my waist. Suddenly, a rush of self-consciousness washed over me and I blushed, felt the color seep up my throat to stain my cheeks. Slightly confused, I rearranged what was left of my clothing. Now I wanted to be alone with Harry, needed to feel him penetrate me, take me, hold me.
"Gosh, is that the time? Sure does fly when you're having fun!"
The buxom girl had a promising future in clairvoyance. Too shaky to stand, I sat on the rug, watching Norma wriggle into her nurse's outfit. Sexily, she swayed over to Harry and pressed a kiss upon his cheek. His gaze lingered longingly over the crevasse of cleavage and one hand slipped up her skirt to pat her broad behind farewell. Harry sighed resignedly.
"lraC, help Miss Norma with her coat, there's a good lad."
"Yessir!"
Norma rummaged in her handbag and extracted a calculator. One long scarlet nail tapped furiously, then she pursed her lips and smiled sweetly.
"That'll be $350, Harry dear. Extra for the, erm, special services. Kinky's always double the rate. Plus, of course, it's after hours…"
I watched Harry's face reorganize itself and wondered if Norma knew she was dealing with a savvy financial entrepreneur and card-carrying Econo-Mart aficionado.
"Now, now, Norma, I'm sure you wouldn't have missed this little extravaganza for the world! No need to cheapen it into a financial transaction. Why, we've put such a show on, perhaps you should be paying us. What do you think Miss Lawrence?"
"Definitely!"
I had regained my equilibrium. Fiscal matters have an unerring tendency to de-fog the brain cells.
Norma's jaw set like ready-mixed concrete and she belted her raincoat with a rather violent action which suggested that she wished Harry's neck was in situ.
"You'll be sorry, Mr. Neptune. I have connections."
Harry smiled indulgently.
"I should hope so, Norma. You'd fall apart otherwise. Look, we'd hate to see you go home empty-handed. Here's a little something for you. Never let it be said that we're not generous."
Bemused, Norma took the small piece of paper and scanned it intently.
"Ten per cent off at the Delhi Belhi Tandoori House? I hate curry!"
She stamped one stilettoed foot and lraC promptly ejaculated.
"I'll have you know it's the best in town! After all, the service is quite outstanding."
Harry clapped his hands.
"Well said, lraC! You've been most attentive. Well, it's been fun, boys and girls, but now I really must get my beauty sleep."
Glaring balefully, Norma stuffed the voucher into her purse, grabbed a large handful of mixed nuts and stomped out, a grinning lraC in tow. Harry snorted. I watched his crinkles collude in mirth.
"What's so funny, big boy?"
"I've just realized that that voucher is now out of date. Expired at midnight. Oh well, perhaps lraC will take pity on her when she pops in for her steak and chips. Did you have fun?"
I popped Harry's nuts into my mouth and nodded, enthusiastically.
"Yes, I did. Especially being punished before witnesses. Feel how wet I am now."
Laughing, Harry lifted me up and sat me on the kitchen counter. I spread my legs to show him what the night's events had done and he traced the trembling contours of my juice-drenched pussy with one long forefinger before kissing me long and hard.
"Bedtime."
"Yes, dear."
"Ye Gods, I'm exhausted."
"You must be getting old, Mr. Neptune."
"Just you wait, Miss Lawrence…"
Mr. Neptune's Convalescence
Jay plonked herself down on the side of my bed and popped a grape from a paper bag into her mouth.
"Hey, they're supposed to be for me!"
"Mmmmmyah. I'm testing them for poison."
"Who's going to poison me?"
"I am."
Charming. Meet my little friend, Jay Lucrezia Lawrence.
"And why, pray, should you want to off a helpless invalid?"
"Because your pathetic state of health has dragged me back to this benighted boil on the prairie."
"My health is perfect! I have a broken leg!"
"Same difference. The grapes are OK. Tuck in."
I grabbed a large handful and munched rapidly before the Lawrence mitt descended again. I wiped my hands on my hospital gown and eased my position in the bed. The traction apparatus groaned and I yelped.
"Don't tug at that! It's all that's holding me together."
"It's about time something did. I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens."
"I was foully attacked by assassins! Backstabbing felons! Cowards who ganged up on me four to one! For no reason whatsoever!"
Jay sighed, quite unnecessarily.
"What was it Norma said? 'You'll be sorry, Mr. Neptune. I have connections.'"
"How was I to know she doesn't like curry? I gave her a whole voucher – ten per cent off at the Delhi Belhi Tandoori House. A Prince's gift! She's an ungrateful wretch – after all the pleasure we gave her. Hah."
"She gave you a three hundred and fifty dollar bill for sexual services rendered – a fair proportion of it for after hours and kinky. You paid her off with an out of date meal voucher and a pat on the bottom."
"There was never an agreement to pay her for her tawdry services. No contract. Therefore nothing for her to complain about. QED."
"Bloody hell! Talk about splitting hairs! She said two hundred dollars when she walked in the door! And that was before things got kinky."
"Ah, but I never agreed. A crucial point, my dear. Crucial!"
I rested my case. And my leg. That didn't stop her.
"And what happened as a consequence of your lawyering? Hmm? What happened?"
She claimed after that I looked sheepish, but of course not a bit of it. I was simply bemoaning the depth of depravity in the human soul.
"They came after me with – sticks – you know…"
"Baseball bats."
"That's right – baseball sticks. In the dead of night. At eleven o'clock. When I was walking home from a convivial evening with fellow philosophers at the Grunt amp; Groan."
"Staggering more like."
"Staggering be buggered! I had the legs of them, convivial evening or not!"
"Especially after you pushed the line of supermarket trolleys into them."
I sniggered. "That was rather effective. Made a lovely noise."
"And then…"
I scowled.
"Only the great Harry Neptune could get run over by a minivan full of strippers."
"They were on their way back from a stag do. They were picking up pizza. And they weren't looking where they were going!"
I groped in the bag for more grapes, but Lawrence had scoffed the lot. I was reaching for the bedpan with a view to clouting her when the door opened.
"Time for our medicine, Mr. Neptune! Be a good boy now…"
"Nurse Benjamin, Miss Lawrence. Miss Lawrence, Nurse Benjamin. I knew Nurse Benjamin's mother in Antigua, you know."
I'll bet you did!
"Did you know Whistler's mother too, sweetie?"
"Shurrup, Lawrence, I'm concentrating!"
"Get Nurse to fetch you a laxative then."
Nurse Benjamin advanced, a broad smile illuminating her sunny face. I looked up. And up. She was a big girl. I sensed a theme developing and gave Harry a hard stare. He tried to look innocent.
"Nurse Benjamin is a direct descendant of the Bigaboobi tribe. Bigaboobies fill many lofty positions in the Virgin Islands."
"I can see that, darling. Delighted to meet you, Nurse B."
The young woman grinned, perfect teeth gleaming in contrast to her dusky skin. Her hair was black and curly, neatly pinned beneath a starched white cap.
Wait a minute! Starched caps went out with Dr. Kildare! This is no ordinary nurse…
"Open wide! Who's a clever boy?"
I watched, incredulous, as Nurse B deftly crushed a brace of painkillers, mixed them into a dollop of jam and spooned the mixture into Harry's strangely willing mouth.
"You baby, Neptune! Take your medicine like a man!"
"There. All gone!"
Attentively, Nurse B leaned forward to dab at her charge's sticky lips and I saw Harry's eyes cross, then focus intently on the girl's heroic chest. She lingered just long enough to give him a good eyeful, then stood up, straightening her rustling apron. I wondered which fancy dress hire store had purveyed an Amazon-size retro nurse's kit. An awful thought occurred to me and I hissed at the invalid.
"What did you do with the real nurse, Harry? I hope she's not tied up in the sluice room or something equally nasty."
Harry sighed.
"They're on bloody strike! I was lucky to get plastered, I can tell you. For one moment, I thought I'd have to do it myself. Anyway, I had to go private for the convalescence. Fortunately, I still have P.H.U.C.T. coverage from my last post with Rope amp; Tackle."
"P.H.U.C.T.?"
"Private Healthcare (when) Undercover (in) Crappy Terrain."
"You're not undercover!"
Harry drew the sheet up to his nose and made coy eyes at me.
"I am now!"
I looked suitably skeptical.
"So, Nurse B comes with Plan A, does she?"
"No, Nurse B came with Scheme 3, sub-section vii, addendum 19d, actually. She's covered by the "post-traumatic stress syndrome" clause. I've been subjected to severe mental cruelty and need succor in my hour of pain…"
"Succor!"
"I'd love to…"
At that point, Nurse B began to laugh uproariously, throwing her head back until her cap fell off and wild strands of dark hair began to spring loose from the mass of pins. She looked down at Harry, then at me. There was a distinct glint in her bright black eyes.
"Fancy a bit of bondage, Mr. Neptune? Seems we're already set up!"
Harry gulped.
"No! Scheme 3, sub-section vii, addendum 19d is quite specific. Stress relief. Not stress inducement! Fetch me my cocoa."
Little and Large looked at each other, or rather the one looked down and the other peered up. I thought with some satisfaction that Jay might have met her match in Nurse Benjamin.
"Bugger addendum 19d. What does addendum 19e have to say? Where's the book?" My diminutive friend had a most unpleasant glint in her eye.
"Addendum 19e refers to restraint of temporarily deranged trauma victims," replied Nurse B with what I can only describe as a wolfish grin.
"Hey, that's enough! I've paid for Scheme 3, sub-section vii, addendum 19d, and that's it! No extras! I'm post-traumatically stressed, not a loony…"
"You were pre-traumatically stressed, Neptune. I think you've diddled the insurance company."
Miss Lawrence's face took on a contorted, pained expression, as if she were giving birth to a prize watermelon. I had seen that performance before. She was thinking. With a grimace like a primeval swamp facing a dinosaur about to enjoy bath time, she spoke.
"How much more is addendum 19e, Nurse Benjamin?"
"A hundred dollars a day. In advance."
Miss Lawrence produced a checkbook and started writing.
"Hey! You produced that checkbook from my bedside locker! It's mine!"
"So? You're the one needing treatment. You pay for it."
I folded my arms over the bedclothes. "I'm not signing that."
"No need. Tell the difference?"
The dwarfish mal-busted insensitive swamp-cologned peanut-brained trollop had my signature off pat.
"Now I know where your new broomstick came from!"
"No need for a receipt, Nurse B. By the way, how well did the old boy know your mother, exactly?"
Nurse Benjamin grinned, slyly.
"I have a half-sister named Venus Harriet. The family resemblance is remarkable, actually. She's quite the little entrepreneur, runs a lemonade stall that's the envy of her classmates. And no wonder, as she filched a huge neon arrow from the local drive-in movie theater. You can see it for miles. Real chip off the old block. I do wish she could see her old man. She'd be just wild about Harry." The nurse's eyes positively gleamed. There was only one thing to do. I gulped again.
The nurse and the houri stood beside my sick bed, the bed to which I had been confined by dastardly blackguards egged on by – another nurse. Yes, Norma had been wearing a nurse's uniform! For a while at least. Was this a conspiracy? Was the whole world against me? Or a substantial proportion of the auxiliary medical profession, at least?
Answer – yes.
I didn't like the way they were looking down at me, not one little bit. Nurse B was used to dealing with helpless patients, but for Miss L, this was a new sensation. I didn't need to follow the twitches across her contorted face to know that she was liking the sensation.
I steeled myself. Who was the boss in this relationship, anyway? Who wielded the heavy palm and the flogger? Who administered the punishments? When push came to shove, who was on top? Harry Neptune – that's who!
I drew myself up to as much of my height as I could manage from the prone position. I fixed my eyes on Miss Lawrence. I concentrated hard, recalling some key points from Hypnosis for Incompetent Buffoons by Ima Charlotte An, the renowned Asian mesmerist. Miss Lawrence raised one delicate little eyebrow.
"Are you all right, Harry, darling? You look as if you're about to lay an egg!"
Determined to exert my will upon the insolent creature, I thrust my jaw forward and lowered my eyebrows as far as they would go in a last-ditch attempt to look truly forbidding. My eyes were but two sinister slits beneath a fearsome beetling brow as I watched Miss Lawrence's feet trace bashful circles upon the cold linoleum floor.
In my mind's eye, she quailed before me. Her feet shifted. She fidgeted with her rumpled cardigan. Her hair draped in rat's tails about her timid, fearful face. Her lips quivered. Her eyes fell and her shoulders slumped. A tear ran down her reddened cheek.
"Hah! Submit, you bint!"
I cranked my eyebrows back to their normal position in triumph, only to witness the two females hanging onto each other in mirth, bodies heaving with silent hysterics. Finally, they cracked and spluttered, giggling out loud. Jay's face was scarlet and I made a mental note to add another spanking to the ever-growing list in my little black book.
"Oh, you did look funny, Harry!"
"He looked just like a lappet-faced vulture, Miss Lawrence!"
The two harpies disintegrated into a fresh round of cackling.
Finally, after a Herculean effort at face straightening, Nurse Benjamin spoke.
"I think it's time for your bed bath, Mr. Neptune."
"I think that's a splendid idea. Mr. Neptune is getting a bit iffy."
"I am not!"
"Are too!"
"Not to infinity. Hah! Got you."
I smiled indulgently at the hapless lump in the high metal-framed bed. Harry had overdone the cologne in an attempt to conceal any potentially unsavory odors and the powerful scent of "Atoll Affair" was making my eyes water. I groped up the arm of my cardigan for a hanky and blew my nose with a loud toot. Nurse B frowned disapprovingly and shook a long and decisive finger at me.
"Germs!"
"Anything I've got I caught off Precious here. He's always sniffling. Shouldn't you be boiling up kettles of water or something?"
"Mr. Neptune isn't about to give birth!"
"I'm not so sure about that, Nurse. He's put on a few pounds lately…"
Harry glared at me and the mound of blankets retracted sharply to the sound of a sharp intake of breath.
"It's relaxed muscle. Just wait 'til I get back in the gym. What's your excuse, tubby?"
"Don't need one. Besides, voluptuous is back in style. I say, is that water cold?"
Curious, I watched Nurse Benjamin fill a plastic basin from a sink in one corner of the room. Briskly she squirted a long stream of anti-bacterial body wash into the water from a large container marked "Stink-Off" and swished the resulting mixture to a pale yellow foam. With visible satisfaction, she smartly snapped on a pair of latex gloves, then looked down at me with a glint in her eyes.
"Would you care to assist with Mr. Neptune's ablutions, Miss Lawrence? I think he's big enough for both of us."
"I'd love to, Nurse B. Mr. Neptune always insists I use the guest bathroom when I come to stay and I'm most curious about his toilet habits."
Harry looked horrified and he instinctively cupped his privates through the bedcovers.
"Is nothing sacred?! I am a private person! Except when I'm feeling exhibitionist, that is…"
Nurse B roared with laughter and shook her head, a mass of ebony curls spilling onto her shoulders in wild abandon. With one dramatic gesture, she swept the covers from Harry's semi-recumbent form. His hands dived down to repeat the protective gesture but, alas, he was a fraction too slow and Nurse B caught his wrists together in a vice-like grip.
"Up we go, big boy!"
Quick as a flash, the statuesque nurse had cuffed her patient's arms to the tubular metal bed-head. His eyes opened as wide as saucers and he roared in complaint. Nurse B grinned.
"Why, he bawls like a bull!"
"Has he, dear?"
"I don't know, Miss Lawrence. Perhaps we should take a look."
We collapsed in mirth. Nurse Benjamin grasped the hem of Harry's hospital gown and flipped it up. I pulled on a set of gloves and we bent over to examine the source of his modesty.
"I've seen worse, Nurse B."
"Oh, much worse! Why, I once dated a Harlem Globetrotter. Vast edifice of a chap, would have made big Mr. Neptune here look like one of the seven dwarves and that's saying something. Anyway, I was getting quite concerned about the potential contents of my boyfriend's boxer shorts, I can tell you! But I needn't have worried. When he finally plucked up courage to whip it out, it took me half an hour to find the poor little thing. With a magnifying glass. Mr. Neptune here is really quite average."
"Average? You dare to call my magnificent love-tool average?"
Harry looked so incensed that I wished we had a Polaroid camera to capture his outrage for posterity. I patted his plaster reassuringly.
"It's a wonderful willy, darling. A very tasty popsicle indeed."
"Hmmph! Now you think you can get round me with sweet talk! Keep going."
A wicked thought or three entered my head. I slipped off my cardigan and winked at Nurse B., who began to saturate a sponge in the bowl of frigid body-wash. Nurse B winked back and I started to sing.
"It's a wonderful wang, a delightful dong, six inches of heaven, a prize-winning prong!"
Nurse B joined in, with rich and fruity tones:
"A premium penis, a decadent dick!"
"It's the cock of a lifetime!"
We put our heads together and harmonized:
"A world-beating prick!"
Harry groaned.
"So give it a lick."
"What an excellent idea, Mr. Neptune. That may be just what the doctor ordered."
"Jesus Christ! That water is bloody freezing!!"
I turned to see Nurse B direct a steady stream of antiseptic froth at Harry's gonads. I swear the poor man's eyes crossed.
"Is there no hot in the tap?"
"The boiler custodian has taken industrial action. Never mind – cold showers are strengthening to the constitution!"
"If you don't die of heart failure first. And you might have slid a towel under my bum, Nurse B – I feel as if I've wet the flipping bed!"
"Poor darling."
Amused, I watched Nurse Benjamin sponge Harry's tackle. The initial chilly gush had sent Horatio (Hornblower, in honor of Harry's passion for all things nautical) scurrying for cover, but the brisk sponge massage appeared to have wakened him up again. He sprang to attention, all shiny and clean. Nurse B handed me a towel.
"You dry him off, Miss Lawrence. I feel a need to get into something a little less starchy…"
I gently patted Horatio, then bent to kiss his sweet, fresh helmet. Mmm. That tasted so good, I couldn't resist a little lick along his steadily swelling length. Harry moaned. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Nurse Benjamin taking off her nurse's uniform. Harry moaned a second time and an extra inch made contact with my tonsils.
I tugged at my shackles and they clanked. Nurse Benjamin had actually used real handcuffs to attach me to the bed head! I had one leg spare and that was it. The other was firmly and painfully pinioned by the traction apparatus. I supposed I could try to land a killing karate blow when Nurse B came back within range, but somehow I thought a round of karaoke might be more successful.
Jay opened her mouth wide – very wide – and started on her impression of a sucrose starved dieter presented with a stick of extra-sweet candy. The feeling was familiar and all the more welcome for that. I grabbed for her hair and my hands came up short after a two inch excursion.
"Ow! These things are digging into me! Get them – oh my gosh…"
I had been keeping a surreptitious eye on the disrobing Nurse Benjamin. She had had her back turned to me and I couldn't quite see what was what in the mirror. She was down to panties and a tantalizing glimpse of the under curve of bare breast when she disappeared behind the screen in the corner of the room.
Nurse Benjamin reappeared.
"Oh my gosh!"
"Ooh ma gurgle!"
The latter was from Miss Lawrence, who had her mouth full.
Nurse Benjamin was the works. Xena the Warrior Princess would have crawled into a corner to die.
With a plop Miss Lawrence disengaged herself from her vital life-saving task and unsteadily stood up.
"Come back here! Three more slurps and I'll come!"
She didn't hear me. I can't say I'm surprised.
Working from the top down, Nurse Benjamin's wild hair was confined by a leather band around her head. Her breasts were just about confined by a short leather jerkin that revealed rippling stomach muscles. The jerkin was tied by leather thongs, and it did not meet in the middle. Her leather cuffs were held together with the same thongs. Her biceps made me gulp yet again.
"Oooh!"
Miss Lawrence was engaged on the same voyage of discovery as me.
Nurse Benjamin's skirt stopped short of heaven by a single breath. The skirt, of course, was leather. I don't know if a Warrior Princess's underwear is called knickers, panties or something more archaic and warrior-like, but I assumed that whatever they were called they were leather. Her thighs were powerful. There was no other word for them. Her laced boots were – leather.
You get the picture. The theme here was leather.
That meant the whip could be made of only one thing.
I gulped yet again, noisily. I pressed my backside firmly into the damp hospital mattress.
"Not me – her! I'm the thrasher. She's the thrashee."
Miss Lawrence nodded eagerly.
"It's your money," said the Amazon Queen. "And for me – a labor of love…"
Nurse Benjamin drew herself up to her full height, which was several levels of altitude greater than Jay's full height. Now I knew for a fact that Miss Lawrence had never been – chastised – by a woman. There is a first time for everything, and it was plain that this was it for Jay and Sapphic thrashing.
Nurse Lawrence reached out and held Jay by the back of the head. Jay went on tiptoes as Nurse Benjamin drew her up and examined her eyes. It was Miss Lawrence's turn to gulp. Apparently satisfied, Nurse Benjamin held my quivering friend at arm's length. I looked down and saw that she was still on tiptoe.
The whip cracked. Miss Lawrence yelped.
"Yelp!"
Nurse Benjamin led Jay to my bed, my partner in crime looking quite the little lamb to the slaughter. Her eyes had already adopted the abstracted, blissed-out, glazed expression, which is peculiar to breast-feeding babies and terminal spankees.
"Harry – help me! Help me!"
Miss Lawrence loves to lay the drama on with a trowel. I could just picture her lashed to a railway track, with the 5:15 from Shepton Mallet bearing down upon her frantically struggling form.
"That doesn't sound too convincing, my dear. Take it like a woman. Carry on, Nurse Benjamin."
"Be silent, Mr. Neptune."
Nurse Benjamin thrust Jay into my arms. Or it would have been into my arms if those damn handcuffs weren't there. She crouched over my torso, her face an interesting blend of bliss and trepidation. I started to feel disagreeably confined.
"Get these bloody things off me!"
Nurse Benjamin ignored me. Jay wrapped her arms round my neck and closed her eyes tight.
Buttons from Miss Lawrence's skirt sprayed across the room as Nurse Benjamin removed it without recourse to the conventions of good clothes care. There was a satisfying ripping sound – I do like that sound – as the Lawrence knickers followed the skirt with one sweep of a mighty arm. Jay moaned in ecstasy, knicker-ripping being one of her favorite things, along with chocolate in any form and a peculiarly ugly aging French film star. My cock rallied and sprang up like a fiberglass tent pole – boinng! I realized that my gown was still flipped up and my rod swayed merrily in the breeze, vulnerably exposed to the full onslaught of the domme's advances. I remembered coming across a terrifying site about cock and ball torture on the Net and I flushed, blanched, winced and flinched in rapid succession.
Miss Lawrence's bare white bottom was exposed to the fresh air and the ministrations of Nurse Benjamin. Her breasts were pressed against my chest. She was starting to strangle me, her body squirming rhythmically against my captive torso. Alas, my manhood was too far south of her moistening pussy to take a dip, the distinctive difference between our respective heights normally requiring a trip through the Kama Sutra for the Climbing Lotus position.
"Gerroff!"
Miss Lawrence whimpered and ground her hips against my belly. This was torture, without any recourse to nips and clips upon my apparatus. Groaning in pre-orgasmic bliss, my little friend clasped the metal bed-head and dribbled pussy juice upon my fiery loins.
"She hasn't even touched you yet."
With a crack the whip landed on Miss Lawrence's unprotected buttocks and she leapt as if she had been shot. A bright angry weal appeared.
"She has now."
The whip cracked again.
Miss Lawrence's whimpers against my neck became more ragged with each crack. She buried her face further into my neck and began to wriggle like an eel on a spear. Her breath came hot against my jugular vein.
"Harry…"
Her fingers dug in and her breathing was now loud, gasping for air.
"Harry… Oh my god… Harry…!"
Nurse Benjamin let loose a flurry of blows. Jay's whole body began to shake.
"Oh yes… Harry… yes… yes… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Jay collapsed across my injured body. Nurse Benjamin gave one more lash for luck and stood back. The grip on my neck relaxed. Miss Lawrence slowly slipped off the bed until she was in a kneeling position with her head resting on the mattress.
She gave a gentle snore.
Nurse Benjamin looked down at me. I looked up at Nurse Benjamin. Her breath was ragged too with the exertion of whipping – or something related…
"Now, Mr. Neptune."
Nurse Benjamin hung the whip over my aerial tractioned foot. She stepped over Jay and knelt on the bed, straddling my chest. She lifted her leather skirt and thrust her pelvis to within a foot of my face.
Yep, whatever they were, they were leather all right. Tied at the sides with – leather thongs. The mixed smell of leather and woman was intoxicating. I felt my manhood resurge.
Nurse Benjamin tugged at the thongs and pulled the leather whatsits away. Her wet quim glistened through dark curly damp hair. She grasped the tall bed head and before I could take a decent breath, engulfed me in sweet wet rampant Amazon pussy.
All I had to do was survive. She took care of everything else. She slipped and slid over my face, grinding herself onto me. Her great thighs gripped my head in a vice.
I could feel her pulse hammering. I swore I could hear her pulse hammering. She ground harder and harder at me. I would have tried to breathe through my ears, but they were trapped by her thighs.
My head was pressed back against the pillows. I wondered if I could breathe through her pussy.
After what seemed hours but must have been no more than a minute or two, she gave a titanic cry and I felt myself drenched with her juices. She went still for a moment, then slowly and lasciviously rubbed herself up and down my dripping face.
At last she stopped and leaned back.
"Hah hah hah hah…"
I wasn't laughing; I was reacquainting myself with the sensation of dragging oxygen into my lungs.
Miss Lawrence had recovered her senses during this performance and was examining her bottom in the mirror over the washbasin.
"Look at that, Harry! They'll take weeks to go away!"
Her bottom was covered with perfectly parallel red stripes. It looked painful. I bet I wouldn't hear the last of it. She'd goad me into taking flogging lessons from Nurse B.
Nurse Benjamin stepped off the bed and stood looking down at me again.
"Nasty swelling that. Looks like we'll have to purge it."
She was looking at my middle section. My nasty swelling began to subside of its own accord.
Nurse Benjamin tugged at a thong and her jerkin fell off.
My nasty swelling recovered at a rate of knots.
Jay trotted back from the mirror and eyed Nurse Benjamin's stupendous breasts. She was recovering rapidly too.
Nurse Benjamin gripped my nasty swelling in a powerful hand.
"Careful!"
My faithful pal, bless her, was concerned that her favorite part of my anatomy was about to be amputated without benefit of proper surgical procedures.
Nurse Benjamin squeezed gently. I felt an irresistible pressure build.
"Ohhhhh…"
That was me.
Miss Lawrence bent over Nurse Benjamin's hand and gave my helmet a friendly lick. She lifted her head expectantly.
Nurse Benjamin's dark head lowered. With a sudden movement, she engulfed me. Her lips gripped and slithered and her tongue lashed like the whip had lashed Jay's rear end. She had suction like a tornado over a carrot field.
"Ahhhhh…"
Nurse Benjamin released me and Miss Lawrence was there like a shot. She pumped her mouth up and down my length. There was no waiting. This was not a day for drawn out foreplay.
I came almost before I knew it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH…"
Miss Lawrence's lips lifted away and Nurse Benjamin was there to catch the last spurts of hot semen as I sank back into my pillows.
My eyes closed. I may have snored.
The bed shook and I opened my eyes. Nurse Benjamin was back in her nurse's uniform and Jay was back in her skirt. A large safety pin held it together where Nurse Benjamin had dispensed with the buttons.
"I've never been raped before," I murmured.
"First time for everything, Harry my lad. We're off to buy a present for Venus from her Dad. I've got your check book."
I didn't have the energy.
"Make it a nice present. Nothing tatty," I said drowsily.
"Ciao, sweetie!"
A chill breeze wafted through the door as the two girls left. I went to pull the bedclothes back up. My hands traveled two inches and came to a clanking stop.
"Hey! Come back! Come back here! Oy! Come back!"
There was no answer.
Jingle Tingle
"I don't believe it! Not here! Not now!"
"What's the matter, darling? Seeing little green men again?"
I followed Harry's gaze but could see nothing more daunting than a short, plump lady in a bright pink trouser suit. We sat in the elegant lobby of Victoria's magnificent Empress Hotel, taking a luxurious little break from some Christmas shopping. Harry slid down in his chair, as if attempting to render himself invisible. Not an easy task for a chap built on White Star Line proportions. My large friend hissed and drew a frond of potted fern across his face.
"It's the Black Widow!"
I looked skeptical.
"Sweet cakes, you're doing a very good impression of the Green Man. Did you know he is an ancient fertility symbol?"
I was just about to launch into a rather erudite discourse on pagan lore, a perennial interest, when the lady in pink squealed like a pig with its nose in a bucket of boiling swill.
"Harry!!! Ooh, it is Harry Neptune, it really is! Oh, darling Nep-toodles, what are you doing here in the Empress? I can't believe it! This is wonderful! What a delight! Oh! Oh!"
A steady stream of burbling emitted from the woman's lips, liberally punctuated with audible exclamation marks. I imagined that five minutes of the Black Widow's company would be tiring, a whole day of it might induce one to book oneself into a spa for a rest cure. Smiling grimly, I extended one suede-gloved hand towards the gushing lady, as Harry extricated himself from the vegetation, a sheepish and somewhat fatalistic expression on his face.
"Gloria, this is Miss Jay Lawrence. Jay, allow me to present Mrs. Gloria Goldfinkel."
"But do call me Gigi! Are you here to take tea? Are you staying at the Empress? I have a wonderful suite in the west wing, simply divine. Oh! Oh! You must come up to my suite and take tea. You will, won't you, Harry darling? Oh, you simply must. Don't forget Tittitata Lodge!"
Harry looked grim. I recalled his terse recounting of his first liaison with the Black Widow, a lady of independent and considerable means, whose wealthy sixth husband had expired on the last leg of a round the world cruise. I suspect my friend had been considering an auxiliary career as a shipboard roue and cad-about-port, but Gigi's terminally effusive manner had brought him back to dry land with a bump. Poor dear. Gigi finally paused to draw breath and I grasped Harry's elbow and propelled him towards the nearest door.
"Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Finkelstein! Just remembered Harry's doctor's appointment! It's his old trouble again, I'm afraid. Arrividerce!"
"But! But! Oh!"
We left the vision in pink pouting by the potted palms and careered out into the dampish day. The uniformed doorman gave us a very disapproving look as we scuttled down the gravel drive and I giggled at last.
"Tittitata Lodge, eh?"
Harry shuddered.
"You don't want to know. Believe me. You don't want to know. If I say fuchsia marabou trimmed peignoir that should give you more than enough information. Now, what about our tea, you little monster? I'm parched."
I took Harry's arm.
"I know a place. Not as fancy as the Empress, of course, but it has a certain rustic charm."
"Don't we all, dear!"
"Tittitata Lodge indeed. What next, Mr. Neptune? What next?!"
Jay's little legs positively twinkled as we fled from the Empress and the occupant of its west wing suite – the Presidential Suite, I had no doubt. She clung to my arm as I ran through the old familiar lose-the-tail routine. As we ducked and dived I wondered idly about planting a notice in the newspaper that my old trouble had proven terminal.
"Slow down – we've lost her!"
My breath returned to something like normal as I let Jay take over the navigation.
Jay's 'rustic charm' amounted to Tillie's Tea Shoppe, an inside outside place tucked away between the main shopping street and the harbour. We battled our way through the Christmas hordes and plonked ourselves down at an outside table. The weather was unseasonably warm, despite Jay trying to influence it with her fancy gloves and a scarf she could have corralled horses with. There was an open fire built into one wall of the outside bit, and various decorations dangling from the more vertical surfaces. All jolly seasonal.
"Tittitata Lodge? Come on, Neptune, spill the beans!"
"Mrs. Goldfinkel has been married six times, you know. The first…"
"Tittitata Lodge!!"
"… was her childhood sweetheart, a football player. His insurance company made her first fortune when a faulty helmet allowed a Hoboken linebacker's boot to impact with both sides of his brain at once. The second…"
"Harry!"
My little friend had one of her determined looks on.
"… was an elderly gentleman who made his loot out of a chain of clothing stores. He lasted one night of bliss with his busty blonde bimbo bride and succumbed with the traditional smile on his lips. The third…"
The next word in the narrative would normally be "Ouch!", but I knew Miss Lawrence well enough to judge the moment at which to move my ankles a strategic couple of feet away.
"… the third…"
"Hi, I'm Sugar! What can I get for you today?"
The thread was broken with a vengeance. Sugar wore her hair in a pony tail, exposing ears I can only call pixie-like. They were pointed at the top and stuck out at a delicate angle. She had the fresh face of a fourteen year old. That's as far as the pixie look went.
She had managed to spill some tea or coffee on her white top. It clung damply to what I can only call one of the most magnificent pairs of breasts it has ever been my pleasure to drool over. They were round and full, uplifted by the bra whose outline gave texture to the top. If the Venus de Milo had had arms she would have made a grab for her own boobs in embarrassment at their inadequacy. They broke the mould when these titties came out.
The rest of Sugar was partly encased in a short plaid skirt and ended in shapely thighs and calves. The contrast between innocence from the neck up and voluptuousness southward was enough to make a bishop doubt his vocation.
"Tea and crumpets, please. Real butter."
Miss Lawrence tried womanfully to meet Sugar's eyes from her sitting position, but I could see that mammary gravity was winning.
"And two mince pies," I added.
"On the way! It's nice and warm here by the fire." Sugar turned and swayed away between the tables like a viola on acid.
"Hell fire," murmured the shaken Miss L. "If I hadn't seen them with my own eyes…"
"Remarkable indeed. The way they are pointed at the top. Not Spock-like but positively pixilated. I bet she has Irish blood."
"Pillock," said Miss L calmly as she regained her composure. "Now – Tittitata Lodge."
"The third was an oil man. One of his derricks fell on him in an earthquake. The fourth…"
"@*% amp; the fourth! Tittitata Lodge!"
"Miss Lawrence! I never did hear such language. And in the festive season too, with merriment all around. The fourth inherited his money from daddy. He was an adventurer who disappeared in the Gobi Desert while attempting to set a round the world skiing record. By now the Black Widow had entered her second half century. The fifth…"
Miss Lawrence sat back and folded her arms. Her expression was grim.
"… was a lusty young gardener she spied through the bedroom window one morning as she stepped out of the shower. She immediately fell in lust, ran downstairs in dripping nakedness, and ravished him in the petunias. He had enough brains to know when he was on to a good thing and soon traipsed up the aisle with her."
I looked hopefully around for Sugar. She was not in sight so I completed my fascinating tale.
"The gardener started to cart valuables away from the house in his wheelbarrow, and made free of the serving girls as the new master of the house. The wool soon fell from the Black Widow's eyes. She confided in a rather handsome Italian American gentleman from Las Vegas she had met on a cruise between husbands three and four – or was it four and five? No matter.
"Mr. Goldfinkel – he changed his name to better fit into his adoptive country – had a way about him. The Black Widow soon exchanged an errant spouse for certificated evidence that he had progressed to the afterworld on the wings of heart failure exacerbated by acute lead poisoning."
Still no Sugar. I concluded.
"At this time the Black Widow became Mrs. Goldfinkel and set out to repeat the cruise on which she had originally met husband number six. They had a wonderful time, and he had a perfectly proper coronary as the ship entered Fort Lauderdale harbour after girding the globe.
"So there you are. The Black Widow unveiled."
Miss Lawrence's lips parted in what looked like a snarl.
"Neptune – Tittitata Lodge. All the dirt. Or we're going to tea at the Empress."
I was trying to invent a plausible story when merciful heaven sent Sugar back to us.
She now proudly bore a sprig of holly in the valley of her slightly stained white bosom.
"Here we are! A nice pot of tea, crumpets and real creamy butter, and mince pies to feel Christmassy with. Can I do anything else for you?"
Jay and I looked at each other then at Sugar's chest. Our mouths opened to deliver what I am sure would have been very similar replies.
"Coo-ee!!!!!"
"Oh, not again! Does that woman have man radar? Has she had me electronically tagged?!"
Harry almost looked agitated. Sugar looked both amused and sharply knowing. I suspected her Santa's Little Helper shtick concealed a will of steel and it suddenly looked as if our little shopping expedition might turn into quite a jolly jape. The artfully bobbed, curled and tinted head of the Black Widow appeared at a porthole-like window in the red brick wall which enclosed the tea room's patio. This time, we both slid down in our chairs but it was too late. The woman had us firmly fixed in her sights. I wondered if she had a harpoon secreted in her capacious Gucci handbag.
"Yoo hoo! Gay! Harry! Oh, you are naughty! Gigi is quite put out!"
A plump little finger liberally encrusted in platinum and diamonds wagged at us through the porthole. Sugar snorted.
"You bad girl, Gay! Keeping that yummy-scrummy man all to yourself! Oh! Oh! Now, don't you move an inch, I'm coming to join the party!"
I wondered whether she would try to squeeze herself through the little window but the curly frosted blonde head withdrew and began to bob, Miss Piggy style, along the top of the wall. Harry looked wildly around for an escape route. The patio had but one exit, from the tearoom and bakery, towards which the Black Widow steamed relentlessly on. Practical as ever, I scooped up the baked goods, wrapped them in a napkin and stuffed them into my coat pocket. I happen to be very fond of a good mince pie.
"This way! There's a back door through the pantry."
Sugar had risen to the occasion, her pneumatic boobs pointing the way to freedom. There was something just a little too good to be true about them but there was no time for a full appraisal. The tearoom door tinkled as the Black Widow entered, panting. Desperate times, desperate measures! Quick as a wink, Harry and I ducked under the bakery counter, crawled beneath a heavy curtain into the pantry and ended up on our hands and knees at Sugar's feet. She had a tiny blue butterfly tattooed on the inside of her left ankle. I gazed up her short plaid skirt and recalled a hundred naughty schoolgirl movies. Her panties were white and moist. A first class servant is always one step ahead of the master and mistress and Sugar grinned mischievously. There was more to this particular wait-person than met the eye.
"Right then. Take off your clothes. I want to see you both naked in less than thirty seconds."
Harry was hyperventilating on all fours and his jaw dropped slightly in an obvious blend of lust and astonishment. Feminine intuition being what it is, I was not so surprised. Sweet little Sugar was into a spot of humiliation and it wouldn't be her pert little buns that would get a roasting. Our diminutive captor grasped a spatula from a can of utensils and slapped it rhythmically against the palm of her hand.
"I'm waiting. Strip. Or I tell the bimbo from hell the exact location of her precious prey."
I looked at Harry. A fascinating procession of emotions was traipsing across his craggy face. While I myself adore to submit, there's not a person alive who could force Harry Neptune to bare his botty for a sound disciplinary session. I waited for my friend to laugh derisively or draw himself up to his full height and bend the forward girl over the counter for a salutary spanking. To my astonishment, he began to unbutton his shirt. Sugar smirked and placed one foot on the rung of a nearby stool so we could see more of her panties.
"Good boy. Now, let's get one thing straight. You don't touch my boobs. They're off limits to both of you. Disobey and it's the waffle iron."
"But…!"
Now the reason for Harry's impression of a lower primate was becoming clear. No doubt he planned on playing the slave-boy just long enough to get his mitts on Miss Sugar's ample dumplings. It was my turn to smirk. Swiftly, I got naked amongst the sacks of flour and jars of jam. This was going to be fun. Harry did likewise, a determined look in his eyes. The pocket dominatrix rapped her spatula on the seat of the stool and thrust her off-limits chest towards her naked audience.
"You may call me Miss Thwack. I have a second career disciplining naughty boys like you. Sometimes girls, but usually boys. I find them so much more deserving. Get your ass over this stool, my lad. It's twenty strokes of the paddle for you! Don't think I didn't notice you drooling over my bust-line. Lascivious brat."
I held my breath. Harry's face had gone rather red. I waited for the storm to erupt but strangely, nothing happened. Very quietly, my friend gestured to me and murmured
"Ladies first."
Quick as a wink, I leapt up and positioned myself over the seat of the stool, my naked buttocks eager to feel the sting of the makeshift paddle. I looked up at Sugar expectantly and could see that Harry had thrown her a curve ball. Miss Thwack was not accustomed to unexpected detours on the route. For one moment she looked rather angry, then she shrugged her shoulders and pushed my head down. Cool, smooth fingers traced the contours of my ass and my pussy began to ooze with juice. I parted my legs and waited for the first blow to fall.
Thwack!
Not too terribly stingy for starters. No doubt the worst was yet to come.
"Is that the best you can do?"
Aha! I knew Harry Neptune would not stay down for long. Upside-down, I watched him through the rungs of the stool, as he coolly appraised the young girl's spanking style.
Thwackk!!
"Oh come on! You're not swatting a fly. Give it some elbow grease, girl."
Now we were beginning to reach serious bun-warming mode. I wriggled pleasurably, dry heat spreading across my naked cheeks like sunburn.
"Mmm…"
Sugar aka Miss Thwack's thighs brushed against the backs of mine and I rubbed my bottom against her crotch. My familiarity was rewarded with another resounding slap. That time, my buttocks quivered with the shock and I gasped, grasping the rungs of the wooden stool with sweaty palms. I wondered where the Black Widow had got to and whether she could hear the percussion emanating from the pantry.
"That's better. And now it's your turn, Sugar, my sweet."
I opened my eyes to see two pairs of calves through the pine framework of the stool. The young girl spoke at last, her voice notably high and a trifle shrill.
"It's Miss Thwack to you! Don't even think about it! Oh, you bastard…"
There was a rather satisfying tearing sound and I sensed Miss Thwack's panties had suddenly lost their elastic and found themselves about her knees. Harry Neptune has a peculiar effect on knicker elastic. A frantic struggle commenced and a warm but violently wriggling body was pinned to my back. I felt Sugar's short skirt flip up over her hips and two strong hands pinioned us both in an interesting sandwich. I wondered whether I would be able to breathe.
"Spank Harry Neptune, would you, bint?"
There was a murmured response. Perhaps Miss Thwack had had her lungs crushed too.
"Speak up, you little brat."
"Oh, fuck you, you big bully!"
Sugar had found her voice. I took a sharp intake of breath in preparation for the storm to come. If there's one thing Harry abhors, it's bad language. He's no angel but the lingo of the gutter riles him to the core. I waited for the axe to fall. Which it did, promptly.
"Aaaaaaeeeeeeee!!!!!!"
There was a piercing shriek as my cultured friend grasped Sugar by her ponytails and entered her hard and deep from behind. An enthusiastic thrusting and moaning began, with a hot pussy grinding madly against my ass. Unable to retrieve a hand and give myself some manual stimulation, I did what I could and ground back against the squirming crotch. Then, to my relief, two small but strong hands found my cunt and began to massage my mound with a manic rhythm. Waves of pleasure surged through my body as I savored the feel of the big bouncy breasts which were tightly squished against my back. They really were incredibly pneumatic. The bucking fuck sandwich continued and I longed for a cucumber. If we had only had a strap-on for Miss Thwack… However, it wasn't long before Harry groaned and shot his load into a squealing Sugar who shrieked and frigged me to my own bleating climax.
"Yesss!"
"Ooh, yesss!!"
"OOH, YESSS!!!"
At that moment, the heavy curtain to the pantry parted and a rather cross looking old man stuck his head through the gap.
"Do you mind? This is a teahouse, not a bordello. Get dressed and back to your duties, Miss Sachs!"
Harry snorted.
"Sugar Sachs?!"
We uncoiled from the stool, a little dazed from the experience. Sugar grimaced.
"My real name is Gretchen. Can't blame me for trying to spice up a dull existence, can you? OK, so it's round one to you, Mister, er, Mister?"
Harry made a curt bow.
"Harry Neptune at your service. Always keen to keep an errant young lady in line. I've had plenty of practice with Miss Lawrence here."
Sugar tried to pull up her panties but they slid back down to her knees in limp surrender. Shrugging, she stepped out of them and smoothed her short skirt over her naked buns.
"Should help with the tips!"
A distant "Coo-ee! Harry! Gay!" from the tearoom shattered our post-sandwich reverie and we began to struggle into our discarded clothes. It seemed that the enemy was indefatigable. With a knowing smirk, Sugar held open a fire door and we fell pell-mell into a rather dirty alley. The last thing we heard was "Twatton's, four o'clock."
We stood up and dusted ourselves down.
"Gay indeed!"
"Well, you are. Kind of."
"I'm bi, dear. Like planes and 'noculars. Meaning two of. Gay is something else."
"That pixie's 'noculars are something else."
"I'm suspicious."
"Yes, you most definitely are."
"I don't think they're real."
Harry looked as if he was about to burst into tears.
"That's it! That's the final straw! First, I'm hounded by that rabid nymphoid Goldfinkel, now you try to tell me that Sugar is artificially sweetened. Next, you'll say that Father Christmas doesn't exist. Well, go on! Sock it to me! I can take it. What's a delusion for if not to be ruined, trampled to death in the dirt of stark reality?"
I patted my pouting friend's hand reassuringly and decided not to disclose what had happened to the mince pies during the shuffle through the pantry. At that moment, a small sheet of bright red paper floated down from above, wafting gently to rest at our feet. I picked it up.
Festive Fun at Twatton's Department Store
Come Sit On Santa's Knee!
Pixie Parade at 4pm
"The plot thickens!"
Harry brightened visibly.
"Oh ho ho ho! Santa comes but once a year but when he does, he fills your stockings! Want to sit on the old man's knee, Miss Lawrence? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink!"
He leered lasciviously.
"Depends how well his tree is trimmed, sweetie! Let me see, what time is it now? Gosh, half past three already. We've just time to make our way to Twatton's. I wouldn't mind a rummage in their lingerie department, anyway."
"Sounds like a good idea."
"Dirty old man."
This leisurely Christmas shopping expedition was turning out to be rather too energetic for my tastes. I like minimum shopping and maximum mince pies and sherry. Admittedly so far there had been an absolute minimum of shopping, but there had been zippo seasonal grub and Amontillado as well.
Now it looked as though for some mysterious reason we were off to see Santa Claus. I once saw a blue movie starring a female Santa and Humpty Dumpty, but somehow I thought Twatton's Department Store would have different ideas. I gathered together my slightly singed dignity and urged my diminutive friend on. The sooner this was over the sooner we could attend to the inner man.
"Ten minutes to spare. Time for a grope in the lingerie."
Jay glared at me anew.
"Behave yourself for once! I don't want a repetition of the Harrod's incident!"
"I wouldn't mind a repetition of the Harrod's incident."
"Harrod's wouldn't."
I cracked my knuckles ready for lingerie. There had been no mention of Tittitata Lodge since our escape from Tillie's Tea Shoppe. Good.
Lingerie was on the second floor. I pushed Jay on the escalator in front of me and felt for her undies through her woolen dress.
"Roll-ons to the right, conveniently next to the vests and thick knickers. You'll be in and out of here in a flash!"
"As well you know, I wear nothing but the best next to my alabaster skin. Turn left and seek out teddies."
"My pleasure. My pleasure indeed… Oh, I say! A civilized store! The goods are actually on display – tactile display! I complained bitterly to Mr. Marks and Mr. Spencer when M amp;S packaged their undies in cellophane. Cellophane simply does not feel the same as silk. I shall close my eyes and unerringly select the very best in the store for you."
I advanced on a rack of lacy bras and panties. I advanced so far and abruptly abandoned advancing. Something was amiss with my breathing. It had to do with the long scarf someone called Lawrence had wrapped round my neck.
"Heel! Put your hands in your pockets. And no tasting, either!"
I obeyed reluctantly as Jay selected a matched pair of red bra and panties that I was sure were a size too small. She likes bursting out all over. I like it too.
"Slips. Onward, Neptune."
This was starting to get boring. I cast my eyes idly over the serried ranks of feminine frippery and stopped on a green silk teddy. I imagined Sugar's bumptious boobs pressing into the silk, nipples hardening under the sensual…
"Hello again! You found your way here, then? Given that woman the slip? What a sight! I bet she eats men for breakfast."
"Only rich men, Sugar, my dear. Apart from one gardener." I maintained my sangfroid magnificently.
Plainly Sugar was to be the star of the Pixie Parade. She wore a short green tunic with yellow buttons barely holding out against the assault of her chest. Bare – nay naked – legs led down to green slippers with bells on. A green hat perched between her ears at a jaunty angle.
"Maybe I'll treat myself to that later. I do like green."
"What?"
"The teddy! All nice and slinky. I can just imagine myself wiggling in that…"
I gulped. I could imagine her wiggling in that, too. I did imagine it. I felt burgeoning pressure in the trouser department.
"Er, Sugar…"
"Coo-ee!!!!!!"
Sugar giggled at my startled face and un-Parliamentary language.
"I thought you disapproved of bad language, Mr. Neptune! My dad used to say things like that when the rent man snuck in the back door. Come on! I'll save you again."
She grabbed my hand and dived through the rack of slinkies.
"Harr-ee!!! Gigi's here!! Come and pick out a nice nightie for Gigi!"
The sound of pursuit stayed with us as we brushed through the lingerie undergrowth. I might have risked all and lingered in the sensory heaven of seamed stockings and garter belts, but Sugar hauled me on.
"The Parade starts in a minute! I'll have to stash you somewhere. I know…"
A quick burst of speed put us momentarily out of sight of the happily trilling Mrs. Goldfinkel. Sugar pushed open a door and dragged me in.
"In there! Keep the curtain drawn and don't say a word!"
She disappeared leaving me in a small cubicle with head-height walls, a mirror, and a single bench. I sat down to catch my breath.
The strains of 'Jingle Bells' came faintly through the ceiling. Sugar must be leading the Pixies round the floor and corralling kids to be ministered to by Santa. I wondered how long to wait before the coast would be clear.
"It's me! It's so me! I'll just check it for fit and then I'll take six!"
"Very well, Mrs. Goldfinkel. Certainly Mrs. Goldfinkel. I'll wait outside for you, Mrs. Goldfinkel."
I looked around desperately for an exit. The only way in or out of my cubicle was the curtain. I hastily stood on the bench to hide my size twelves. I grasped the curtain barely in time as a bejeweled hand appeared at the edge.
"Taken! Never mind, next door's free!"
A curtain swished and a zipper unzipped. There was a noise as of shoes being kicked off and of discarded clothes being scattered around.
I crouched on the bench to keep my head below wall level. I breathed carefully and quietly under the sound of the Goldfinkel disrobing and singing little snatches of Christmas songs to herself.
I wondered how long it would go on. Already cramp was creeping into my calves. Then something else crept into me.
It was a dreadful, dreadful temptation. I fought but it had me firmly in its grip. An insidious force battered my willpower. Madness was in the air. I could no more resist than an urchin could resist peeking through a hole in a fence. Slowly my knees straightened.
"Aaaaeeeeeee!!!!!! Feelthy pervert!!!!!!"
I knew I shouldn't have taken Harry lingerie shopping. A vague, gnawing sense of concern had been toying with me since his sudden disappearance in 'Teddies amp; Bustiers'. Feeling uncomfortably like a lax mother with an unchecked, rampaging child, I hurried in the direction of the piercing shrieks, clutching my cache of lacy undies. A rather large lady of Mediterranean origin was hyperventilating beside the changing cubicles, her Rubenesque form sensibly clad in several acres of pale pink flannelette. Aghast, she pointed at the middle cubicle, which appeared to be empty, although the curtain was drawn. Several sales assistants and a security guard came panting down the aisle to see what the fuss was about. The night-gowned mamma immediately began to wail and wave her arms about, in a rather operatic manner.
"It was a man! A pooping tom!"
One of the sales assistants giggled.
"I think you mean a peeping tom, madam!"
"I know what I mean! He made a rude noise and then…"
"Thrrrrrppppptttttt!!!!!!"
A ripe, juicy raspberry issued from the depths of 'Garter Belts amp; G-Strings' and just for one brief moment I thought I spied Harry's mischievous grin through the shrubbery of dangling smalls. The fat lady cried out:
"That's him! That's what I heard! Catch him!"
"What is all the fuss about? Are they giving away free pantyhose again? I've never heard such a commotion! Oh! Oh! Is it Santa time yet?"
The now familiar excitable tones of the Black Widow cut through my chagrin and I turned to see a second bedtime-apparelled apparition appear from the row of cubicles.
"Good heavens! Mrs. Goldfinkel!"
For once I was at a loss for words. The Black Widow was squeezed, by some method unknown, into a tight satin tiger print gown, complete with matching high-heeled mules and a long feather boa. Generous handfuls of tropically tanned flesh were visible in assorted directions and the overall effect was of an overstuffed sofa that had split its seams and spilled its filling. I gasped. So did the Black Widow. Like Sugar, there was something over-the-top about her bust line, even allowing for her generous dress size. I couldn't help myself. Before you could say "Double D", I had grasped the mighty melons and given them a good firm squeeze.
Toot! Toot!
"Hooray! Hooray! It's the Twatton's Pixie Parade!"
At that moment, mere mayhem descended into all-out fracas. The elevator doors opened and a nubile chorus line of six attractive young ladies in bright green mini-dresses and matching pointed hats began to prance through the department, scattering candy canes to left and right as they wriggled and jiggled to a merry festive tune. The Black Widow shrieked in glee, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I had just grabbed her by the titties. Quite overcome with excitement, she grasped my arm and propelled me towards the gyrating elves.
"Come on, Gay! Let's be first to sit on Santa! Gigi is going to give the old man a Christmas to remember! Oh! Oh! This is going to be so much fun!"
The Pixies had formed a conga line, to which game shoppers joined on, snaking in and out of the racks of frillies in a giggling, cheering serpent. A Christmas medley played in the background, with various festive tunes rapidly segueing into each other in a frenetic tinkly melody. I grasped a couple of the Black Widow's love handles and tried to avoid being knocked right out of line by her swaying tiger print rump. It looked as if she had been taking samba lessons. As the conga swept past 'Seasonal Intimate Novelties', I spotted a large stack of gift-wrapped packages topped by a sign which proclaimed:
Tooti Hooters!
Inflatable Musical Bras
(Reduced)
Never one to resist a bargain, I snatched a box from the top of the pile as we cha-cha-cha'd by. This could be interesting. I glanced over my shoulder as we careered through the exit and headed for Santa's Grotto, cheerfully setting off the shoplifting alarms with assorted items of unpaid merchandise. The security guard stopped hunting for the Phantom of Ladies' Intimate Apparel and waved his arms at us.
"Hey! You'll have to pay before leaving the department!"
"Don't worry! I'm a Loot Club member! Just put it all on my account!" trilled the Black Widow, making a bee line for Santa, a rather short and skinny chap whose red and white suit looked about three sizes too big for him. I began to wonder where on earth Harry had got to.
"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!"
Mrs. Goldfinkel shimmied out of the conga line and virtually threw herself at the poor unsuspecting Santa impersonator, elbowing several pre-schoolers and a nanny out of the way to be first in the line-up. I glimpsed the look of horror in the man's eyes and his knees buckled as a large tiger print bottom landed on his lap. In fact, you could see little more than the white pom-pom on the top of his red hat once the Black Widow had ensconced herself. A small boy began to wail loudly in protest but the vision in satin was undeterred.
"Ooh, Santa baby, I've been ever so naughty this year! Will I get nothing but a birch switch in my stocking?"
There was a muffled, rather wheezy mumbling from behind Santa's cotton wool beard which sounded rather like "get off my knees, you old trollop" but the Black Widow merely giggled and bounced up and down like a wallaby on a trampoline. She might have been carrying a few too many extra pounds but she was fit with it.
"Oh, Santa, Santa, Santa, don't you have anything for poor little Gigi? Hee hee! Oh! Oh! This is so much fun!"
Grimacing, Santa reached down to rummage in the large sack of parcels by his tinsel-trimmed throne. Just at that precise moment, the Black Widow executed her biggest bounce, ripples from which sent some rather fascinating currents through her shiny tiger print coated bottom. For one brief moment, it was unclear what was heading up and what down until both buttocks landed with a fulsome squishy thump. What was more, the resulting shift in weight and balance caused Santa to make a frantic grab for the nearest handhold, which just happened to be Mrs. Goldfinkel's seasonally augmented boobs.
BANG!
"Aaargh!"
There was a minor explosion, accompanied by a small shower of tiny gold foil stars, shreds of scarlet tinsel and strands of cotton wool. Santa slumped semi-senseless on his chipboard throne, a dazed and strangely silent Black Widow sprawled across his hapless lap. The tiger print gown could no longer take the strain and the twin meringues of her large soft breasts erupted from the satiny wreckage. A tiny voice piped up from the gathering crowd.
"Mummy, why did the fat lady have balloons down the front of her dress? Did she want to look fatter? Ooh, look mummy! You can see the lady's boobies!"
"Hush, Emily!"
"Yes! Nnnnyurrgh! Yes!!"
A familiar sound issued from somewhere close by and I wrested my gaze from the desecrated grotto. I knew that sound. Somewhere between the mating call of the duckbilled platypus and a constipated moose, it was a guttural grunt I'd heard on multiple occasions. Harry Neptune was having an orgasm. But where? How? Perplexed, I scanned the milling festive crowd for H's large form but there was nary a Neptune in sight. Then I spotted another sign.
Bliss Day Spa
Pooped out? Pop right in!
"Oh, yes! Just a little to the left, Angel, my love. Mind my appendectomy scar! That's it. Right there. Mmm. Dreamy…"
"Well!"
I stood in the doorway of Bliss, still clutching my unpaid merchandise. A veritable bacchanale greeted my incredulous eyes. The spa was decorated in the manner of a Roman bath house, all trompe l'oeil columns and bunches of plastic grapes. Harry Neptune lay in naked, oily splendor, surrounded by several nude and equally well-greased handmaidens. Giggling, they rubbed their glistening breasts against his hairy chest as he swatted their bottoms with a mitt on a stick. A trail of bright green tunics and jaunty hats littered the path from steam room to massage table.
"So that's where the Pixies got to. I wondered. You're a bad lad, Harry Neptune. What is that gunk on your belly?"
Harry contemplated his navel.
"I think it's called Ho-ho-joba Festive Fun Oil. Strip off, Lawrence. Join the slick."
"No thanks, sweetie. I'm still recovering from Santa's Grotto. You just wouldn't believe…"
"After this afternoon, nothing would surprise me, I assure you! How do you like my tattoo?"
A ripple of laughter tinkled through the pixies and, with a gleeful grin, Harry thrust his freshly swelling manhood towards a pert little brunette.
"Another squirt of Ho-ho, please, Angel, my sweet. That's it. Now, give Horace a nice little massage. Ohhh! That hit the spot. What do you say, Jaybird? What do you think of that?"
I appraised the member. A neatly stencilled sprig of mistletoe decorated Harry's toothsome love-shaft.
"It brings a whole new meaning to 'kiss me under the mistletoe'!"
"I hope that's not permanent!"
"Nah. It'll wash off after sixteen showers, apparently. Pretty nifty, eh?"
"Seems like a Christmas to re-member!"
"Ho, ho, ho!"
"What happened to Sugar? I think I discovered the source of her magnificent decolletage on sale in ladies undies."
Harry grinned ruefully.
"Yep. I hate to admit it, but you were on the money with the fake tits, Shortie. I tried to rip off her bra in Garters and G-strings. The resulting explosion almost blew me into the food hall."
"Serves you right! So, what did you do?"
My large friend smiled to himself.
"Oh, I gave the minx the spanking she so richly deserved, gagged her and tied her helpless naked form to the window display in Household Utensils. That'll teach her to go after Harry Neptune with a spatula. It was very artistic. A red-bottomed bint with some copper-bottomed pans. I expect Security will let her out at closing time."
I began to giggle uncontrollably at the mental image and Harry grasped me with oily hands, planting an affectionate kiss on my forehead.
"Merry Christmas, Jaybird!"
"Merry Christmas, Harry. And a Happy New Year, should we live that long…"