When Vickie opened the door to Sharon's knock, she was entirely nude except for enormous gold hoop earrings and a pair of absurdly high heels.
The sheer beauty of the pink-white body with the jutting, coral-tipped breasts and the little pale-gold delta caused Sharon to catch her breath.
Vickie dropped to her knees in front of her, raised the hem of her skirt, and planted a long kiss on the lips of her cunt.
"There!" she said, jumping to her feet again. "Welcome home, darling!"
Sharon suddenly felt as if she were going to cry. She hadn't cried once during that entire endless year in prison, but now it was all she could do to keep back the tears.
"What's wrong?" Vickie said.
"I don't know," Sharon said. "It's just being home again, I guess."
"You need a drink," Vickie said, taking Sharon's arm and turning her in the direction of the couch. "Parole regulations or no parole regulations."
"I think you're right," Sharon said. "And not just one, either."
There was a pitcher and two brimming martini glasses on the cocktail table. Vickie picked up the glasses and handed one to Sharon. "We'd better sit down before we try these," she said. "They're pretty potent."
They sat down on the couch together, thigh to thigh.
"Of course, this is going to take the taste of you out of my mouth," Vickie said as she raised her glass. "We can always remedy that."
"And not tomorrow or the next day, either. I've never been so horny for you, Sharon. Honest."
Sharon laughed, and put her hand down between Vickie's legs. "Why, I declare," she said. "You are horny, aren't you?"
"You better stop," Vickie said. "I'm giving you fair warning. If you mean to finish that drink, you'd better stop right now."
"I'll just leave it there," Sharon said. "On the outside. All right?"
"Ummm," Vickie said. "There goes that fountain again."
Sharon sampled her martini, then drank until her glass was half-empty.
"Hey!" Vickie said. "Take it easy."
"That parole officer shook me up a little," Sharon said.
"A woman like that would shake anybody up. What'd she want, anyhow?"
"She just wanted to straighten me out on a few things."
"Like what?"
"It seems I have to give her half my salary at Chumley's."
"You're kidding!"
"I wish I were. She also wants me to be at her apartment tomorrow afternoon."
"But I was going to take you shopping."
"Not any more, I'm afraid." She finished her drink and took her hand from between Vickie's legs long enough to pour another.
"What was her name again?" Vickie said.
"Thornton. Joyce Thornton."
"She visit you in prison, or what?"
"Yes. She was there just once, for about five minutes."
"Well, she looks like an old bulldyke to me. She's got muscles all over her."
"I don't think so," Sharon said, settling back with her drink and putting her hand on Vickie's pussy again. "I got the impression she hates women."
"Or maybe it's just when they're so pretty," Vickie said. "Anyhow, she's a monster, dyke or no dyke. I never saw such a horse in my life."
"She warned me not to try to get my case reopened."
"It'd be hopeless, Sharon. You know that. Even your lawyer said so."
"It's ruined my life, Vickie. I'll have it hanging over me till the day I die."
"But there's nothing you can do about it, darling."
"Maybe not," Sharon said. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try." She sipped at her drink, remembering…
It had been a glorious day, very warm for May, and she could recall exactly what she had been wearing and the unusually good mood she'd been in. She'd been getting into her car in front of the apartment house when Mark Haley had come out and asked if she'd mind if he rode downtown with her. As they'd approached the Arcade, he'd asked her to wait while he ran inside to pick up a package at one of the stores. Five minutes later he'd been back, carrying a flat, black-fiber box.
There'd been nothing at all to indicate that anything was wrong. He'd seemed completely normal, alternately drumming on the box with his fingertips and making jokes, teasing her a little now and then, as if he couldn't quite decide whether he ought to make an all-out pass at her. She'd let him out on the corner of Lambert and Courtney Avenue, and driven on to her appointment in the Biedler Building.
And then, late that same night, Mark had…
"You're brooding about it, aren't you?" Vickie said.
"It's hard not to," Sharon said.
"You're only punishing yourself this way, baby," Vickie said, raising her hand to cup Sharon's breast. "You didn't have a thing to do with it, and everybody knows it."
"That's just it," Sharon said. "Nobody knows it. Only you and Mark Haley, Vickie."
"Wherever he is," Vickie said. She leaned forward to put her empty glass on the coffee table. "It's all so terrible," she said softly. "Let's don't talk about it any more. Please, darling. It's only upsetting you – and me too."
Sharon took a long swallow of her martini, then set her glass down beside Vickie's and got to her feet.
"You're right," she said, smiling. "It's absolutely not the way to celebrate a homecoming, is it?"
Vickie laughed. "No," she said, getting up quickly. "There's really only one way to do that, baby."
"Oh?" Sharon said. "And just what did you have in mind?"
Vickie took her by the hand and started for the bedroom. "You'll soon find out," she said in a husky voice.
Everything in the room was, still the same, Sharon noted with relief as she reached down for the hem of her dress, and then wondered vaguely why that should be so important. The same satin throw on the big circular bed. The same satyrs pursuing the same nymphs across the wall-to-wall drapes. The same twin dressing tables with the theatrical make-up mirrors. And Vickie's enormous panda in the chair by her side of the bed. The panda would still smell of Vickie's perfume and pussy, Sharon reflected, smiling, as she drew her dress over her head. Vickie had a habit of locking the panda between her legs and rubbing her breasts and cunt against it till she came.
"Hurry," Vickie said now as Sharon stepped out of her shoes. She was sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing a nipple between thumb and forefinger.
"I want to put some cologne on first," Sharon said.
"Never mind," Vickie said. "You're perfumy enough as it is. And besides, the natural flavor's nicer, anyhow."
"Just as you say," Sharon said, and walked over to the bed. "Now if you'll be so kind as to arrange yourself in the proper position…"
"No," Vickie said. "I want to do you first, Sharon."
Sharon laughed. "Listen. Whose homecoming is this, anyhow? I've been waiting for this a whole year, honey."
Vickie pushed her lower lip out in a pout. "I don't care," she said. "I've just got to suck it. Right now."
"We could do each other at the same time, if you want."
"Oh, no you don't! I don't want anything to distract me."
"Like my tongue, for instance?"
"No preliminaries?"
"Well, sure, preliminaries. I didn't say anything about not wanting any appetizers, did I?"
"I thought you wanted to start right out sucking my pussy. But now you…"
"Oh, stop teasing," Vickie said, pulling Sharon down on the bed. "You just spread your pretties out there for me, and be still."
Sharon lay down on her back and stretched her arms up behind her head. "All right?" she said.
"Oh, God," Vickie said, lying down on her side next to her. "I'm already about to cum, and I haven't even had the first taste of you."
Sharon closed her eyes, because she knew that – for some reason – Vickie preferred her to. And by the same token, she lay completely still, just as Vickie had always insisted she do while she tongue-bathed her or sucked her pussy.
She felt Vickie's warm breath on her face, and then the tip of a moist little tongue fluttered against her parted lips for a few moments. Then Vickie began to lick Sharon's lips slowly, first the upper and then the lower, then the upper again – slowly, drawing the smooth-rough surface of her own tongue from one side to the other and back again, pausing for an instant at the corners of Sharon's mouth.
Sharon felt her nipples begin to quicken, and the tickle between her legs told her her juice had already begun to flow. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to suck Vickie's tongue into her mouth, but she resisted it, knowing Vickie would rather she didn't. Even that distracted her, Vickie had said. When she and Sharon were merely kissing, in between serious love bouts, Vickie enjoyed having her tongue sucked as much as Sharon did. But when Vickie had set out to really do Sharon's entire body, she wanted her to be completely motionless. Why that should be, Sharon didn't know. But whatever pleased Vickie pleased her as well; and so, although the desire for Vickie's tongue was causing her mouth to water, she lay still and kept her own tongue pressed hard against her lower teeth.
Vickie's lips brushed across Sharon's cheek and came to rest against her ear. The questing tongue, very pointed now, explored the lobe, then, moving in little circles, pushed itself into the opening.
Sharon moaned.
"Shh," Vickie said, and made her tongue flutter in Sharon's ear as softly as the wings of a butterfly. She did it for such a long time that Sharon, unable to bear it any longer, finally moved her head slightly.
"Lie still, damnit," Vickie said, and brushed her lips along the ridge of Sharon's jaw and then down to the hollow of her throat. Sharon thought that from there she would move to a breast. Instead, she began to lick the damp, exquisitely sensitive concavity of her armpit, moving her tongue in ever-increasing concentric spirals until she reached the outer bulge of her breast.
Sharon knew her throbbing nipples must be swollen to twice their normal size, and she could feel the juice from her pussy crawling down the crack of her ass. It took every particle of her will-power to lie still, but when Vickie's tongue moved up along the curve of her breast and brushed across her nipple, she could not repress another moan.
"Shh," Vickie said again, and drew Sharon's nipple into her mouth.
Sharon had been aware of the aroma rising from between her legs for some moments now, but suddenly it seemed to grow stronger. She'd always enjoyed her own scent, and she inhaled deeply. But it hadn't really grown more pronounced all at once, she realized; it had merely been augmented by Vickie's wonderful little smell. Vickie's was subtly different from her own, and the blending of the two in her nostrils was heavenly.
Vickie suddenly sat up. "I can't wait," she said. "I'm sorry, honey. I've just got to suck your cunt."
Sharon opened her eyes for the first time. "I can't wait any longer either, Vickie," she said.
Vickie crawled off the bed. "But I want you to put your legs over the side," she said. "I can get to you better. Hurry, Sharon."
Sharon moved over to the side of the bed, put her feet on the floor, and spread her knees as far as she could.
"Something like this?"
"Oh, yes," Vickie said, sitting down on the floor between Sharon's legs. "Yes. Oh, God, that looks good." She leaned, forward and ran the tip of her tongue the length of Sharon's small pink slit. "And it tastes so good!"
Sharon watched as Vickie gently opened the wet lips with her fingers and put her mouth on the trembling little clitoris.
"Oh, Vickie," she said as the other girl began to suck at the clitoral button with her teeth. "Vickie!" If there was one thing in the world that would drive her completely out of her mind, she knew, it was the way Vickie sucked her clit. Time after time, Vickie had made her cum that way in less than a minute. And she didn't want to cum just yet; she wanted the feel of Vickie's expert tongue in her cunt for a few moments first. "Push it up me, Vickie," she breathed. "Way up inside, Vickie."
Vickie's eyes smiled up at her through their long, long lashes, now clumped in little dark spikes, wet with Sharon's love juice. "Then spread it apart for me," she said. "I can go deeper that way."
Sharon reached down with both hands and pulled the lips of her cunt to either side, pausing only when she knew that, if she spread them further, something might tear. The sight of the dripping, wide-open folds of her pussy excited her, and she watched with fascination as Vickie did what she always did at a time like this, because she knew Sharon loved to watch her do it.
Instead of burying her face in Sharon's cunt and then pushing her tongue up her cunt, she first extended her tongue, eyes still smiling up at Sharon as the pink wedge slipped out little by little until it protruded almost three inches beyond her lips.
And it was only then, with her tongue firm and pointed, vibrating ever so slightly, that she began to push it, very slowly, into Sharon's cunt.
But now Vickie suddenly withdrew her tongue and looked up at Sharon mischievously. "Boy, are you ever juicy!" she said, laughing.
"You put your tongue back in there," Sharon said.
"Can't you spread the lips a little more? The deeper I can get my face between them, the further up I can put my tongue."
"I've got them as far apart as I can," Sharon said. "For heaven's sake, Vickie! Put that pretty little thing back in there!"
Vickie put her head between Sharon's legs again, ran her tongue out to its full length, and pressed her cheeks into the slippery folds of Sharon's wide-open pussy.
"Oh, God," Sharon sighed as she felt the long pink wedge forcing its way into her vagina. "Oh, God, Vickie…"
Up and up Vickie's tongue went – until, to Sharon's astonishment, the tip touched the neck of her womb.
Vickie jerked her head back, smiling up at Sharon with surprised delight. "Sharon!" she cried, her lovely face glistening with cunt juice, "I did it! I got it all the way up to your womb!"
"I know it, angel," Sharon said. "Oh, how I know it!"
"Think how many times I've tried to do that," Vickie said. "Hundreds of times. And now I… Sharon, the juice is simply pouring out of you. I mean it. It's just like putting your tongue beneath a faucet."
Sharon took one hand from her pussy and reached down to run her fingers through Vickie's silver-blond hair. "You little darling," she said softly. "Oh, how I wish I could tongue you like that."
"I've been practicing for months," Vickie said happily. "Every chance I got, I'd make a little circle with my thumb and forefinger and stick my tongue in it. I'd pretend it was your pussy, and I'd imagine it smelled like you and tasted like you."
Sharon cupped Vickie's chin with her palm. "You're adorable," she said. "What a sweet little thing to do."
"I was determined to be able to lick your womb," Vickie said. "I wanted it to be a surprise for you when you got out. I had my heart set on it."
"Darling little Vickie…"
"And now I can. I really can!" She put her head between Sharon's legs. "Pull the lips apart again, baby."
For the next few minutes, Sharon was conscious of nothing but the thrusting tongue in her cunt. At the completion of every four or five thrusts, Vickie would push her tongue to the very bottom of Sharon's pussy and draw the tip around and around the blunt cone of Sharon's womb. Then she would force the neck of the womb open and spear her tongue into the tiny, flooding mouth.
Sharon had never experienced anything even remotely like it. She sat, drinking in the heady aroma of cunt, listening to the soft, sticky sounds as Vickie sucked her, feeling the widening pool of cunt juice spreading out beneath her hips. On the floor between her legs, Vickie had slipped a finger into her slit and was frigging herself wildly.
Sharon, realizing that Vickie's face was so securely embedded in the folds of her cunt that she no longer needed to hold the lips apart, reached down with both hands and drew the bobbing blond head even harder against her. Then, recalling one of Vickie's special delights, she pushed a cunt-wet fingertip into each of Vickie's ears, rotating the tips until she heard Vickie begin to make choked little mewlings of pleasure.
Putting her fingers in Vickie's ears must have reminded the other girl of one of Sharon's own delights, she knew, because now she felt Vickie's forefinger rubbing around and around the ring of her anus. She raised her legs a little, so that Vickie could probe her ass more easily, and felt the first joint of Vickie's finger slide into her asshole. The second joint followed slowly, then the third, and now Vickie was running her finger in and out of Sharon's ass in exact time with the thrusts of her tongue in her cunt.
It was too much for Sharon. Suddenly, without warning, she began to cum.
"Vickie!" she cried, writhing from side to side. "Vickie, I'm cuming!"
Vickie redoubled her efforts, throwing her arms around Sharon's hips as she withdrew her tongue and finger from cunt and ass and glued her burning lips to Sharon's spasming clitoris – sucking so hard that for a moment Sharon thought she was going to suck her pussy inside out.
The flooding warmth of Sharon's first orgasm had no sooner exploded in her thoroughly tongued cunt than she felt another form somewhere deep within her and rush toward fulfillment. She fell back on the bed, her body heaving in a transport of ecstasy, cuming again and again as Vickie sucked her cunt tirelessly, harder and harder, as if determined to extract every last honeyed drop of juice from Sharon's body.
She came until the separate orgasms melded into one unending orgasm of such overwhelming intensity that she knew she could not endure it another second and still retain her sanity. Vickie had almost literally sucked her out of her mind.
She raised up, still in the throes of the violent orgasm, and put her hands on Vickie's sweat-moist shoulders and pushed her away.
"Stop, Vickie!" she gasped. "Stop it!"
Vickie's huge amber eyes, dark now with passion, looked up at her, surprised. "What's wrong?" she said.
"I just can't stand it anymore. It's just too good, darling."
Vickie smiled, and wiped the juice from her mouth with the back of her hand. "How many times did you cum?"
"God, I don't know. A dozen at least."
"I thought so. I thought for a while there at the last I was going to drown. The juice was practically spurting out of you, baby."
"I thought everything was coming out," Sharon said. She reached down, put her palms beneath Vickie's elbows, and drew her to her feet. "That was wonderful, darling. It was the best time ever." She leaned forward to lick a droplet of sweat from Vickie's navel. "And now it's your turn."
"Oh, boy," Vickie said, starting off toward the bathroom at a run. "Wait'll you taste the new flavor I sent off for."
"Vickie!" Sharon said.
Vickie paused. "What?"
"If you put any more of that raspberry stuff in your pussy, I'll…"
"Oh, this doesn't go in me. It goes on me. You'll love it, Sharon."
"I can still remember that awful raspberry taste," Sharon said. "Ugh! And that lime you tried the next night wasn't any better. Your cunt didn't taste right for a week."
Vickie laughed. "Well, don't worry, honey. I'd never try anything like that again."
"You'd better not. You could never improve on the taste of your pussy in a million years."
"It's a real old-fashioned flavor," Vickie said as she hurried into the bathroom. "Just wait'll you try it."
Sharon glanced down at herself. She was glistening wet from just beneath her navel all the way down to her knees. And her hips were drenched, she knew; she could feel them cling to the satin throw for a moment as she got to her feet.
She went over to the linen closet, took down a large fluffy towel from the shelf, and dried herself thoroughly, drawing a roll of the towel between her legs to sponge the juice from her pussy and the crack in her ass.
Then, while she waited for Vickie to do whatever ridiculous thing she was doing in the bathroom, she crossed to the clothes closet and looked inside. All her clothing was there, just as she had left it, except for a few things in plastic bags, which she knew Vickie had been thoughtful enough to send to the cleaners for her. She fingered the pleats of a skirt for a moment, trying to remember whether she'd ever worn it.
She'd have no problem with clothes for a while, she decided. Everything was at least a year old now, but it was all of the best quality, and most of it had been a little ahead of the fashions when she'd bought it. There wasn't a single garment she'd be uncomfortable about wearing out on the street this very moment.
Her underclothes would be in good order too, she thought as she walked to her dresser and opened a drawer. But she had a desire to look at them. After a year of the coarse monstrosities that passed for underwear in prison, she could hardly wait for the feel of something truly feminine. Something silky-smooth to caress her skin, to slither sensuously between her body and her dress.
But as she looked down at the neat little stacks of mini-slips and bikini panties and wispy bras, the air in the room suddenly grew chill.
It had been in that same drawer, beneath her pink chemise, that the detectives had found the necklace and bracelet. She could remember how one of the detectives had held them up in turn, watching them glitter in the wash of light from the wall fixture, and then look knowingly at his partner. Then they had turned to look at her – big men, impeccably dressed men, men who had seen it all and knew it all, men who were neither kind nor unkind but merely police officers doing a job.
She had tried to explain. Mark Haley had given them to her, she had said.
"We know that, Miss," the older of the two detectives had said. He had been heavy-set, with a flat, almost expressionless face and thick dark hair graying at the temples. "What we want to know is why."
"You said you hardly knew him," the other detective had said. He had been taller, with sandy hair and old-young eyes that had seemed never to blink, "Why would a man you hardly knew give you diamonds?" It had been the last time he had spoken to Sharon directly during the entire time he was in the apartment.
"They aren't diamonds," Sharon had said. "They're zircons."
"They're diamonds," the heavy-set detective said. "About ten grand worth."
"They can't be. Mark said…"
"They're the genuine article. Why'd he give them to you?"
"I don't know. He liked me, I suppose. He wanted to…"
"Make out with you?"
"I don't know why else. But he told me they were only zircons. Otherwise, I'd never have accepted them."
"Sure. When'd he give them to you?"
The other detective had moved away a few feet, and now he stood with folded arms, running his eyes slowly up and down Sharon's body as coolly and dispassionately as if he had been appraising an animal in an auction ring. She was wearing a thin, diaphanous robe – not much more than a pale green mist, really – and for the first time in her life she knew what it was to be embarrassed by a man's gaze.
"I said, when did he give them to you?" the heavy-set detective said.
"Last night."
"Did you know the jewelry store in the Arcade was robbed yesterday?"
"No."
"Did you know these pieces were from that robbery?"
"What!"
"Very good, Miss Palmer. You register surprise very well."
"But I…"
"You drove Haley to the Arcade. You waited for him at the curb. You drove him away after he pulled the robbery." He paused. "Haley didn't give those pieces to you. You earned them."
"What do you mean?"
"We're tired, Miss Palmer. Both of us. We've been hitting this case ever since yesterday afternoon. We're not going to play games with you."
"I don't know what you're…"
"How much more of the stuff have you got around here?"
"None."
"We'll see. Jake, start tossing the place, okay?" He turned back to Sharon. "Did you know driving that car for Haley makes you just as guilty as he is?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake! I merely gave him a ride downtown. He said he wanted to pick up a…"
"Get dressed."
"Where are we going?"
"Downtown – but not to the Arcade."
"This is all a terrible mistake. I didn't have anything to…"
"Get dressed, please."
From that moment on, Sharon's life had been one long nightmare. There had been a confrontation at the precinct house with Mark Haley, who had sworn she'd been his accomplice in the robbery. There'd been a night in the county jail, and a hearing the next morning, and a magistrate who had set her bail so high it had been impossible for her to meet it.
When she had come to trial, it had been alone. Mark Haley had made bail – and disappeared. Only a gifted lawyer, an unambitious district attorney and a skeptical judge had made the difference between the five-to-ten-year sentence she might have received and the one-to-three she had actually been given. The jury – nine of them women, and all nine hating Sharon on sight – had voted for the maximum term. But the judge, although forced to impose sentence, had in this state the power to reduce it. He had exercised that power, giving Sharon the shortest possible time he could under the state statutes.
It had been several days after her arrest before she had learned why Mark Haley had involved her in the robbery. He'd done it for insurance, her lawyer had told her. It was a common practice. A male criminal knew that if he were caught and tried, his chances were better if he had a female accomplice who could be tried along with him. Judges and juries tended to be less severe when a woman was involved, her lawyer had said, unless a majority of the jury and the judge happened themselves to be women. Therefore, Mark Haley had planted part of the jewelry with Sharon, knowing that possession of it would be strong evidence of her guilt. Once sure that he had been neither identified nor suspected, however, he would have returned and recovered the jewelry – one way or another.
Now, as Sharon looked down into the drawer of lingerie, she could remember those first terrifying minutes with the two detectives as if it were yesterday. She closed the drawer slowly, thinking – then suddenly turned and walked out to the front room to pour another martini.
Vickie was right, she knew. She was only punishing herself this way. She was going to do all she could to right the terrible wrong that had been done her; that was certain. But in between times, she was going to live. She had a whole year's sexing to catch up with – and the one person in all the world most capable of helping her do it was at this very moment making her body even more delectable in the bathroom.
She drank the martini from brim to bottom without stopping. Then she went back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the big circular bed, waiting for Vickie.
The bathroom door opened in a few moments, and Vickie ran over to her, huge amber eyes bright with excitement.
"Just wait till you taste me!" she said as she stepped between Sharon's knees and thrust her tilted breasts close to Sharon's face.
Sharon leaned forward, grasped the smooth firm globes of Vickie's ass in either hand, and sucked a rosy nipple into her mouth.
"Peaches," she said.
"Not just peaches," Vickie said with childlike pleasure. "Peaches and cream. It tastes different than just peaches alone, Sharon."
"So it does," Sharon said, moving her mouth over to Vickie's other nipple, now already visibly swelling. "It's delicious, Vickie."
"And I taste that way all over," Vickie said. "Every inch. Even my toes." She shivered. "Oh, I just can't wait for you to lick it all off me, Sharon."
"That makes two of us," Sharon said as she lay back and pulled Vickie down on the bed with her.