The sound of her even, deep-sleep breathing reached my cars from the bed. I crept over to it and stood over her. I flicked on the pocket flashlight. The beam highlighted Baby Doll pajamas hugging an imposing upthrust of breasts and the smooth sweep of belly. Most un-secretarial, I thought to myself as I looked at the lavender sleepwear.
She was lying on her back. The problem was first of all how to get her to turn over without waking her. I reached down and tugged at her hip, prepared to spring back into the darkness if she showed signs of waking. The hip was warm and soft to my touch. Maria stirred a little in her sleep, but she didn’t turn over.
I tried again. She writhed, as if responding to the touch of a lover. That seemed to be my cue. I dropped my hand lightly to her bare inner thigh and stroked it.
“Ha-ha-ha . . .” Maria giggled in her sleep and arched hrr back so that the panty part of the Baby Dolls was thrust upward.
I slid my hand delicately inside them. This time she reacted more violently. She thrashed about for a few seconds, as if trying to grasp the teasing fingers. When she settled, she was sleeping on her side.
I waited a moment until she was quiet and then I pushed against her buttocks until she was sleeping fiat on her stomach. Now I bent over her and pulled gently downwards on the elastic of the Baby Dolls as I focussed the narrow beam of the flashlight.
“What—!” She sprang up on her elbows, still half-asleep, and peered into the darkness for whatever it was that had wakened her.
I doused the light and huddled in the shadows. After a little while, she settled back into sleep again. I decided it would be too risky to make another attempt to pull the pajama panties down. Maria was simply too light a sleeper. I tiptoed out of the room.
But that was no reason not to try my luck elsewhere. I noticed that the door to one of the three bedrooms was ajar. Silently, I moved over to it and peered inside. Darkness. I took the chance and quickly flashed the flashlight on and off. In that instant the beam showed me the features of Anna Del Vecchio.
I moved inside the room and over to her bed. She had thrown the covers off almost all the way. Almost, but not quite. A corner of one of the blankets was just covering her derriere. She was lying on her side with her back to me, almost at the edge of the large bed. On the other side of the bed the rest of the blankets and sheets were all in a heap. It seemed a golden opportunity. All I had to do was lift that corner of the blanket and I’d have an unobstructed view of Anna’s nether-cheeks. I reached for the blanket.
“Oh, darling, not again,” Anna murmured.
“Why do you say that?" I recognized Friedriksenn’s voice sounding muffled from under the pile of bedclothes on the other side of Anna.
“Well, if you don’t want to, then stop tickling my bottom,” his mistress protested.
“I didn’t touch you.”
“You didn’t? Then who did?”
I froze as the question hung in the darkness.
“I don’t know. But now that the subject’s come up-—” Friedriksenn’s mind was on other things. I was lucky. He broke off the sentence to embrace her.
I took advantage of their preoccupation by darting to the nearest doorway. It led to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and it creaked slightly.
Friedriksenn noticed. “What the devil was that?” he asked loudly.
“What, darling?”
“That noise. It came from the bathroom."
“Probably only the wind.”
“Perhaps. But I’m going to have a look anyway.” Friedriksenn's footsteps shuffled toward the bathroom door.
Quickly, I darted to the door on the other side of the bathroom. I opened it and went through it, closing it behind me. I stood there with my back to it, not daring to breathe until I was sure that Friedriksenn had gone back to bed. When I was sure, I took a look around me.
I was in yet another bedroom. The draperies hadn't been drawn in this one, and the moon was shining brightly through the window. The beam of light was hitting the bed and illuminating a figure sleeping flat on its stomach. The sleeper had thrown off the covers altogether and was sleeping in the nude. The particular portion of the anatomy highlighted by the moonbeam was the buttocks.
And what buttocks they were! In the course of my investigations for O.R.G.Y., I have had the opportunity to focus on many a fabulous female fanny, but this one was surely the most delightful I’d ever seen. It was smooth and hairless, the skin tinted a delicate pink, the cheeks plump and shimmering like foam rubber in the moonlight. It was a derriere to surpass all derrieres, a neatly halved sphere so beautiful that I stared for a moment just to admire it.
But this was no time for esthetic appreciation. I reminded myself to get down to business. I crossed over to the bed and bent low over the gleaming derriere to search for the scar.
“What the hell!” The sleeping figure sprang to life. "What do you think you’re doing?” It was Luigi Tortorizzi’s voice sounding startled and angry.
“Sorry!” I froze with consternation. “I must have gotten into the wrong room. Accidents will happen,” I added lamely.
“I see. Well, then, would you mind lifting your nose from me—”
“Oh! Sorry!” I straightened up.
“Thank you. As you Americans say, I don’t swing that way.”
“Well, neither do I!” His tone made me indignant.
“No?” The way he said it made it obvious that he didn’t believe me.
“Certainly not!” I summoned up what I could manage of my dignity and crossed over to the door leading to the hall-way. “It was simply an error. Good night!” I exited.
I winced as I heard him lock the door behind me. Oh, well, what the hell! I told myself. Tired and discouraged. I went back to my own room. Three more chances to peek at the derrieres in question and three more strike-outs. Plus one embarrassing foul! Yes, the hell with it! I turned over and went to sleep.
But not for long. It was still dark when I came awake quite suddenly. It took me a moment to realize what had waked me. Lust, that’s what it was! Aroused lust!
And what had aroused it was the fact that a passion-hungry female had crawled into bed with me. She was there now. She was quite busy. She was crouched over my body with her head under the covers and facing toward my feet. Her mouth was assaulting my manhood wildly.
Even as I reacted to the assault, my eyes were focusing. In the crouching position she had assumed, her derriere hung just over my face. She was naked. And there, staring straight at me, only a few scant inches away, on her left nether-cheek, was a crescent-shaped scar about three-quarters of an inch long!
Gina Moretti was making love to me! But who was Gina Moretti? With her head under the covers. I cou!dn’t tell. And, with the exquisite sensations her mouth was providing. I decided I could wait to find out.
After all, first things first! That’s the motto of O.R.G.Y. First things first!
CHAPTER FOUR
Now!
My body telegraphed the message to my brain, and my brain immediately sent back instructions that had me thrusting ceilingwards like a pogo-stick on the upspring. That tongue was moving furiously; those lips were opening and closing hungrily; the whole mouth was picking up momentum and suction like a vacuum cleaner gone berserk. Is it any wonder I felt as if the top of my head was about to fly off?
Now!
And it was at that precise point that the scream rang out and the moment of truth was shattered by the reaction of my amorous night visitor. She clenched her teeth! l did a little low-key screaming myself then. I stopped while she got the message and relaxed her jaw muscles. Far from wasting any time regretting my unexpected passion, I counted myself lucky to have been released before my scream turned soprano.