"Loi… darling…"
There was a glazed look in her eyes. Then the tears welled up and started flowing down her cheeks. Her body went limp; she crumpled to the floor and wrapped her arms around my legs, wailing words of apology and entreating my forgiveness. I felt the heat of her face against my ankles. And then – almost like some weird nightmare! – she began kissing. Actually licking my feet! It made me feel like some kind of royal princess, a proud princess with absolute power over my fawning subject.
But I couldn't just stand there and do nothing; nor was I quite ready to forgive her, either. Instead, I whirled and strode away, moving into the bathroom. Mink. The sight of it gave me a silent chuckle, clearing my mind. If I lived to be a hundred I'd never grow accustomed to such luxury. Mink on the toilet seat. And it felt so good, so soft, so soothing to my ass…
"Darling?"
"Huh?"
"Won't you let me talk to you? May I come in? Is there anything I can do for you? Help you? Some way to make up…"
"I'm thinking about it. But come on in anyway, I'll figure out something for you to do." Then, harshly, "No, not like that, you bitch! Get back down on your knees." Relaxed, indolent, I watched the woman crawl clumsily toward me. "Yeah. That's exactly where you belong, wouldn't you say? On your knees."
I looked down at her, a wry smile on my lips, an expression meant to convey my acceptance of this change between us. Telling her that ours was a relationship of mistress and slave, not of lovers. She glanced up and returned my gaze momentarily, then dropped her eyes in meek humility, resigning herself with a piteous little whimper:
"Yes. It's where I belong. If only you'll tell me you're not angry, tell me I'm forgiven. Please?"
That was a foregone conclusion by now, but I still wasn't ready to turn sweet and go into a loving mood. Not yet. Although – in view of my position at the moment – there wasn't much I could order her to do by way of penance. In such an immodest situation, just groveling before me like that should have been humiliation enough.
Well, no, not quite enough. "Like I said, Estelle, I'm thinking about it. And meanwhile, uh, you can lick my feet some more."
She bent her head low. I felt her moist tongue on my toes, kissing, stroking, swabbing. Then – was it coyly? – she tilted her head and peered up at me. "Darling? Just your feet?" Again her gaze sank, pausing hesitantly halfway down this time, turning my exposed flesh hot with embarrassment. And now it was her face, not mine, that wore a wry smile…
Drained but far from depleted, I unlocked the bedroom door and descended the staircase, a naked young girl on the prowl. Back there on the huge bed, Estelle Kincaid lay dead to the world, obviously in a state of exhaustion. My official duties for the night were finished now; who could object if I sought my own kind of fun? I had been separated from my darling Fleur long enough, painfully aware of her presence in the house. Couldn't we sneak a quickie?
Alas, she was nowhere to be seen. Squinting and scanning the dimly lit living room, I saw no trace of her familiar form in the writhing entanglement of flesh. That only increased the pressure building up in my loins though, forcing me to keep on with the search, still scrutinizing the orgiastic clusters. For what? Oh shit, I was truly a girl on the prowl now. The weather had died down, but a storm still raged within me.
Hungrily, my eyes darted around the great room, seeking an opening rather than any particular person. Couples and trios were still knotted together in a variety of lascivious postures, woven like an unfinished tapestry but without a single dangling thread. Then, off in a comer, I caught a glimpse of an interesting possibility, a woman with her head buried in cunt and her ass jutting high, a crouch that left her open and vulnerable to any passing stranger. I glided over there, vaguely pleased to find the prominent curves of her body still unfamiliar even in close-up. Somehow that made it more exciting. Strangers in the night. Hmm. Would this constitute a formal introduction?
Ha-ha. Very funny. It's only because I can't have Fleur. Isn't that why I'm so Goddam hot? A pang of remorse lanced through me, a thing of shame, puncturing my excuses like computer print-outs on a spindle. I hated myself, hated my wildly beating heart, hated the dragging sensation in my loins that tugged me down behind the obliviously occupied cuntlapper. But even in my near-universal hatred, the temptation was too big a burden. I touched her, cupping the soft ass-cheeks in my palms. Her flesh stiffened in apparent shock, and then a moment later I felt the big round white buttocks go lax and wiggle in an obscene come-on. It was too late to resist, of course, and I dove inside her ass-crack like a starving pig at a trough, shooting my tongue into her asshole to scoop out the more valuable hidden delicacies; where else would a pig search for pleasure? I tried to tell myself that the ass I had searched for was the ass I was sucking, but even that was denied me. Because of the shame, the thrill, the excitement of being a stranger in the night…
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
In a way, it was delightfully distracting. Something new for me – two cunts to suck at the same time. I hadn't even expected it actually, I just happened to be there. They were squirming around on the big bed, hissing and rubbing together, when Fleur raised an arm and beckoned me close. I leaped to obey, getting in between them and licking her cunt. The flesh was wet and warm from all that friction…
"Me too."
"Hmm?"
Fleur tapped my head. "Both of us."
No further command was needed, and I switched over to Amanda and dug into her equally wet and warm slit. Evidently I was supposed to divide my attention, share and share alike. Distracting, to say the least – two cunts to suck! – but delightful nonetheless, and I tried to prove myself worthy of the task. With my cheek nestled against Fleur's thigh, I lapped Amanda. Then, whenever the mood struck me, I simply swung my head and dipped my tongue anew, finding a hot and steamy cunt wherever I turned, sinking into the intoxication of their mixed odors and essences. Above me I could see them kissing mouth to mouth, still rubbing and squirming even with my head buried between their bodies.
True, I would have preferred to be doing Fleur's beautiful ass instead. But then again, all of her had a special beauty for me, and I sucked that dark-tufted pussy with intense ardor, tonguing it feverishly and feeling my own untouched flesh grow swollen and humid with erotic excitement. It became increasingly difficult to tear myself away each time, but orders were orders – anyway, both would have been displeased had I shirked my duty.
Two lesbian cunts to suck! The idea spurred me on, inciting me to further boldness. It pricked me, jabbed me, pierced my brain, inflaming my body and provoking me to greater efforts. My mouth took on a personality of its own, endeavoring to bestow the most pleasure upon each one, almost like a game in which I played both sides. And there was no end to the treasure-prize of soft flesh that opened to my lips. It writhed and twisted and demanded attention, engulfing my face, squashing the back of my head. It became a silk-fringed gully in which I couldn't catch my breath. And then another overheated hairy nest that allowed me no more than an instant's hesitation. Until that uniquely contrived little sex-world split apart like an earthquake fault and spewed hot lava as it came to a cataclysmic finale.
Even then I remained right there and continued licking in a soothing manner, kind of swabbing with my tongue in the aftermath of orgasm. I lapped up the dewy moisture solicitously and slowly, a body-attendant now, a girl trained to go on pleasing her mistress – or mistresses – even after the lovemaking was over. Oh yes, I had been well taught!
Amanda evidently agreed. "Hey, she's getting good. Notice the way she ducks down low and swabs out the ass-crack too? Yeah, this kid sure has learned a lot. You're a good teacher."