Monique gave a little shiver of foreboding. It was both thrilling and frightening that someone knew so much about her. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Michael's hand stroked her thigh. The man's fingers were sinking firmly into the flesh, now moving around to the back of her leg; now caressing around the circumference and fondling down the inside of her thigh.
The silk scarf which hung over her loins, not quite wide enough to conceal the deep crease on either side of her crotch, felt sexy against her mound. It brushed with an acute tickling sensation on her naked quim as Michael made her thighs wobble gently…
At last, he tired of this pleasing but innocuous fondling. Running his hands higher up, Michael gave the girls a brief arse-feeling — cupping their buttocks firmly and squeezing the relaxed globes between his fingers.
Then he released them, lifted himself back onto the bed, and once again stretched at full length in front of them.
“Show me how you please each other when there are no males around", he commanded. “Let me see what games you females get up to when you are alone together!” He propped a pillow behind his head so that he could watch them more comfortably. “Do anything you wish — only make sure that I am well pleased!”
Monique bowed her head. “As you wish, oh master", she murmured. “We shall do all we can to carry out your desires!”
She knew that the colour had risen to her cheeks, staining them a blushing crimson. But though her heart pounded furiously against her ribs, Monique felt herself gradually escaping into her character of slave-girl with ease. And it was as a captive, obediently resigned servant that she now turned to Jean, her arms extended to the woman in a welcoming embrace.
But Jean haughtily swung around, presenting Monique with her back; crossing her hands proudly over her breasts.
The girl realised that Jean had taken on the role of a rebel, that she was inviting Monique to force her into submission. “Jean, we must do as we are told!” she whispered urgently. “We dare not disobey!”
She put her hands tentatively on the woman's hips, at the same time moving close to Jean and letting her “loin-cloth” press against her companion's bare arse. Monique could feel the delicious heat coming from Jean's ripely-fleshed curves — and pressed her fingers more firmly into the woman's hips.
“No!” Jean cried. “I won't do such things! If you want me to… then you'll have to make me!” Her eyes glinted with a provocative challenge. “If you can, that is! Go on — I dare you! Show our master which one of us is the stronger! I dare you!”
Michael leaned forward intently, hardly daring to let his eyes blink for fear that he would miss a single second of the girls' “performance”.
Monique ran her hands slowly up Jean's back until they gripped the woman's shoulders. “You must do what he commands!' she hissed. “We could be flogged or put to death for such disobedience! Please, Jean — I don't want to suffer even if you don't mind!”
But Jean thrust her away with a violent backward heave of her body. Monique staggered, the silk scarf flaring up momentarily and giving Michael a teasing flash of the girl's sex.
Then — crouching her body in a wrestling stance — Monique threw herself at Jean, clutching the woman around her waist and toppling them both to the floor.
They fell in a disorderly tangle of writhing legs and arms: rolling over on the soft carpet, their respective bottoms now hidden, now fully revealed, as first Monique and then Jean gained the uppermost position.
Michael moved quickly to the edge of the bed, eyes darting, following the girls' every movement. They were breathing heavily, Jean's gorgeous black hair foaming over their breasts as she fought for dominance. He could see Monique's hands scrabbling for a hold on the smooth surface of his wife's back — finally slipping to Jean's bottom and grasping the cheeks tightly; pinching up large folds of the bum-flesh and causing the valley to widen and expose the secrets of her anus…
But only momentarily. For Jean dragged the girl off her body and plumped herself ruthlessly on Monique's stomach… her legs open, her feet planted astride on the girl's wrists; trapping Monique inescapably.
Vainly, the French girl kicked her legs up, trying to dislodge Jean's position. She merely succeeded in giving Michael a breathtaking view of her parted thighs — the narrow silk scarf riding up over her crotch and baring the red line of her sex.
Jean wriggled her buttocks tormentingly on Monique's bare belly, making the girl pant for breath, her thighs squirming helplessly…
“Now then", Jean gasped. '“That's what you get for trying to get the better of me!” She put both her hands roughly on Monique's breasts. “Is this what you wanted me to do? Feel your titties?” She squeezed them cruelly, her fingers kneading the girl's unprotected globes furiously. “How do you like that, then?” she asked grimly.
Monique rolled her head from side to side, unable to do anything to stop Jean's punishing treatment of her breasts.
“Please!” she managed to implore the woman finally. “You're hurting me! Jean — don't hold them so tightly!”
“Oh?” Jean surveyed her sardonically. “So that's not what you wanted, after all! Well, perhaps this will give you more pleasure…”
And she brought her fingers and thumbs together around the red stalks of Monique's nipples, slowly pulling the stiff teats upwards. When they were lifted as far as she could possibly stretch them. Jean swung her hands from side to side, making the girl's tits jiggle like twin mounds of plasticine.
“Ouch! Oh, Jean, you're squeezing them too hard! Please let them go!”
“Really?” Jean looked down into Monique's pain-contorted face and smiled. “All right, then I'll try something else…”
Moving so quickly that the girl had no chance to seize the opportunity to free herself, Jean turned swiftly around on Monique's body; positioning her knees on her captive's wrists and bending right forward so that her face was in line with Monique's crotch.
Her own sex stuck rudely above the French girl's eyes, Jean now commenced to study Monique's loins. She rested her hands on the inside of the girl's thighs, holding them firmly apart.
Monique forced herself to relax, to allow Jean to take the initiative once more. She stopped her legs from trying to press together and let the woman do as she wished with her body.
Jean sensed the girl's capitulation and eased the pressure of her knees on Monique's trapped wrists. Her fingers slowly plucked the red scarf from its resting place on Monique's crotch; gradually revealing to both her eyes and Michael's the sexy-lipped wound of the girl's cunt.
When the silk covering was completely lifted away from Monique's quim, Jean laid it daintily across her right thigh. But instead of petting and fondling the vulnerable slit, she began to spank it lightly with the flat of her hand!
Her fingers patted steadily on the girl's cunt, raining a rapid succession of slaps — some of which landed on Monique's mons veneris, some on the puffy lips themselves… and some on the base of her sex, on that tender portion of skin between her vagina and anus.
At first the blows were no more than rather gentle pats, stimulating and exciting to the girl who was receiving them. But, gradually, Jean increased the ardour of her spanking: until her hand was descending on poor Monique's quim with considerable power!
She tried to lift her knees to protect her sex from this stinging treatment, but Jean responded quickly by grasping with her other hand the half-raised leg and thrusting it firmly back to the floor.
And now Jean had crooked her fingers slightly, thus allowing them to sink fractionally into Monique's slit each time they landed. She would slap her hand down into the red wound… hold it there for a moment or two while her fingers tickled into the gash… then again raise it ready for the next blow.