Claudine thought a while.
"What's the next move?" she asked.
"As I see it, it's this," said Hector, rising. "We go to bed, Claudine, you and I."
Claudine, suddenly understanding, gave a low hum of comprehension. Why? – but wait, she thought – this thing, startling as it had been a moment ago might yet turn out all right, might have in it after all the elements of something quite amusing. If it caused no marriage spat between husband and wife, then why not?
Coolly, she rose, as did Louise. Giving her hand to Hector, she exclaimed theatrically: "Then lead on, MacDuff!"
The bedroom was shady and tastefully furnished – a vast boudoir of mirrors and deep-piled carpets, in which the pair of beds, wide, low and inviting, were the main feature.
Claudine stubbed out her cigarette in a heavy venetian glass ashtray, and squirmed deliciously in her dress.
"This I think I am going to enjoy. Yes. This I might enjoy very much."
She held out her arms to Hector, and he came to her. His hands were practiced as they fondled her back, establishing the nudity he had suspected lay beneath the single sheath of her frock. She surrendered to his caressing, writhing at the hips as she pressed herself hungrily to his body. Her hands seemed all over him. Now they cupped his head as she drank in his kiss. Now they were about his shoulders, and from there she ran them down his back, his flanks, and his thighs, the better to provoke desire in him.
And as the kiss lingered on, she was active at the buttons of his silk, open-throated shirt, loosening the belt that held his trousers up, she feverishly tugged at the fastening of his fly. She felt how his and was thickening and caressed it expertly with the three fingers and thumb she had managed to insert among his trouser buttons.
Then she broke away from his embrace.
"Quick, Hector," she said urgently. "Undress. Strip! Let's end this useless suspense!"
Obediently, Hector stripped, sending a succession of garments flying into a chair until he stood naked and sun-bronzed as Louise knew him so well. So brown was his body it seemed as if it had never endured a winter.
Louise sank back into an easy chair to watch the couple. She was mockingly expectant, as if she were seating herself at the theatre, challenging the cast to amuse her.
But Claudine retained her dress. She sank down to the bed and gazed at the nakedness of the man whose body she knew so well. And then, with studied coquetry, she allowed her thighs to part and her skirt to fall back upon the alabaster pillars that were her legs. Plainly visible was the fuzz of hair that surrounded her cunt and Louise, feeling a stirring of sex herself, gazed at the brazen display upon which Hector, too, was feasting his eyes.
Languidly, Claudine reached for Hector, closing her hand over his fully-erect prick as he came to her. Keeping him still standing, she bent her face to that mighty staff, and took its reddened head into her mouth in an act that was all pure worship and devotion.
As she sucked for a while at his throbbing lance, she allowed her dress to fall still farther up her parted thighs, until the full glory of her twat was completely exposed.
By some trick that only she knew, she kept that twat gaping and closing alternately in some ferment of desire and Louise stared, almost hypnotized, at the consummate art of this woman – feeling her own cunt hot with the dripping and splurge of her rising randiness.
Gradually, Claudine eased up in her languid tonguing of Hector's penis and lay back upon the bed. She was panting now, eyes dreamily closed.
She lay writhing for several moments, alternately opening and closing her thighs.
Her own fingers stole up to her opened, exposed twat, and went snaking into its warm depths. Watching her, Louise gave a shiver of apprehension at the actual sight – being performed openly – of female masturbation…
As Claudine stroked the nerve ends of desire within her vagina, she seemed to fuck with thrusts of her hips toward her fingertips, thrusting back with those same fingertips as she permitted her hips to recede once more. Involuntarily, Louise found her own fingers speeding up her skirts to the fragment of nylon panties sheathing her own cunt.
As Hector sank down to his mistress' side, so Claudine rolled away from him, arid stood up on the other side of the bed. She arched an arm up behind her, disengaged a zip and, in movements ineffably slow and deliberate, she permitted her frock to fall from her body, keeping her gaze all the time upon the smooth head of Hector's cock.
It was as provocative a sight as Louise had ever seen, the disrobing of this accomplished coquette. Louise's own desire was now a fever of lust.
Quite oblivious as to the disheveled sight she presented, she had ripped down her panties and was now sitting, thighs spread as far apart as they could go, with all four fingers of her right hand moving wildly inside her cunt, masturbating with a sort of screwing motion – first to the right, then to the left – a motion that brought pressure into play upon vagina, labia and clitoris in turn.
And what a magnificent sight was Claudine, naked now and unashamed, as she stood there in an attitude of for-the-last-time domination of her lover who lay, prick erect, in wait for her to descend upon him! For that moment he was the sacrifice, and she the high priestess of this devilish ceremony they were about to perform together.
Claudine's tits stood out, their nipples hard, brown chestnuts of torment. Straight as a lily was her glorious body, with its rounded belly descending to perfect alabaster thighs. From where Louise sat, the twin swellings of the girl's buttocks were glorious cushions of pleasure. Plain to see was the valley into which her cunt-hair seemed to be sucked, as it were, into the gash that was her twat.
And then, still moving slowly, Claudine raised one leg, placing it upon the bed, so that her cunt was drawn apart, red-brown and inviting, open to Hector's delirious gaze.
Slowly, she allowed her fingers to stray once more into its luscious depths, betraying by weird little animal moans the pleasure she was giving herself. The sight of her splendid abandon was having its effect on Hector. Now he raised his head to her parted cunt lips, brushing away her masturbating fingers and bestowing a long suck-fuck kiss, drawing the liquid ambrosia from its ciliated bed. And as he closed his mouth upon her cunt, Claudine threw back her head in passion, madly fraying at her nipples with her fingers as if seized by some frenzy of masochistic desire to hurt herself.
It was then, through the haze of her abandon, that Claudine noticed Louise, one thigh splayed over the arm of the chair, gloriously tossing herself off as, entranced, she watched the lovemaking.
Claudine suddenly ceased finger-thrashing her nipples and Hector, sensing something, drew away from the torrid wetness of her cunt hairs.
"Look at Louise!" whispered Claudine, directing Hector's attention to where his wife lay obscenely sprawled, open-legged, in the armchair. "Wait, Hector. The poor girl is beside herself with desire. How can we leave her out of this."
Claudine moved quickly, soundlessly, over to the chair, and sank down before Louise. Gently she disengaged Louise's fingers from her cunt…
"Poor thing," she soothed. "Never mind, Louise. You shan't be left out. There's something in this for you as well. Come on, get undressed."
Eagerly, Louise submitted to Claudine's disrobing hands. First the frock, then the brassiere followed each other to the floor and Louise stood revealed in all the glory of her nudity, so that Claudine could not hold back a murmur of admiration at the magnificent figure so proudly naked before them.
"How wonderfully beautiful you are," she whispered. "What adorable breasts, so big, yet so utterly feminine! What a belly! What superb buttocks!"