Her slit was up, of course, and on Dianne's second raid through Pam's cunt, tongue and clitoris made sudden, exciting connection and Pam closed her eyes, mewing. "Heyyyyy…"
She reached down then, and took over from Dianne, using her own fingers to part the lips of her twat, and she spread it as widely as she could. Dianne's tongue moved further up Pam's slot, stabbing into the hole that grew wetter with each additional plunge. Pam could feel the hot cunty juices moist and frothy on the flanges of her cunt, and some of it was her pussy drool mid some of it was spittle dripping from Dianne's mouth. Whichever, sand whatever the proportions, it felt delicious on her cunt and she let her fingers massage the wetness into the swollen lips and surrounding tissue, rubbing until her entire mons was a hotbed of arousal.
Dianne could feel that arousal building with each pass of her tongue, and she grew more venturesome in her licking. Again and again she whipped Pam's clitoris, teasing the pearly bud until it stood up like a hard, hot nipple, and she sucked it – not continuously, but in alternation with her lazy, effective tongue work in and out of Pam's hole, so that the pleasure could swell, diminish, and swell again for Pamela. And it was good. Oh, Lord, it was good. Pam puckered her lips and sent out little trilling noises of contentment.
"I'm going to make you come, darling," Dianne said authoritatively. "I'm going to make you gush like a spring."
"Yes," Pam replied, "if you don't, I'll never forgive you. Oh, God, don't stop – make me come, Dianne, make me come…"
And then she yelped as Dianne bunched three slender, supple fingers into a hard, thick boring tool and drove them up her pussy with an implacable thrust. Pam lifted onto her tiptoes and come down hard upon those inserted fingers, and they felt just like a short but oh so fat cock fucking the hell out of her snatch, and it was sweet, and sweeter still when Dianne planted her mouth on Pam's rubbery clit and began to suck it for all she was worth – for all Pam was worth, too.
Her clit was awash in the spit of Dianne's mouth, and it was fully exposed to the hot wet swiping of Dianne's tongue as well. There was the faintest pressure of teeth on Pam's clit, and she whooshed breath through fluttering lips as she felt Dianne's incisors ride softly on her most delicate possession. Again and again Dianne's fingers shot up her pussy tube, and the flesh was slippery as melted butter around them. Pam could feel the leakage of juice from her hole and there was a dizzy sensation in her head. She staggered on her feet, as if she were going to fall, but she didn't fall. Instead she grabbed Dianne Hagen's head, used the kneeling woman as her brace, and fucked her orgasm onto Dianne's eager face.
Dianne was smoking, but the room had a ventilator and the smoke of her cigarette didn't linger, for which Pam was very grateful. The bathroom was a little too small and confining for two women and a smoldering Newport.
Somehow, now that it was over, it seemed only light and proper, what she and Dianne had just done. Actually, what Dianne had done. Pam's role had been that of recipient; Ms. Hagen had not even undone the buttons of her shirt and she'd asked nothing from Pamela except a few kisses and the correct responses.
"Two hours ago I thought I had it all figured out," Pam said, wiping her cunt with a moist tissue. "I'd decided that you and I, this afternoon – that we were just something weird that had happened to me – part of something that should never have beg in the first place. My husband came home from work and at first I didn't think I could stand for him to touch me – not after the way I'd made love with you this afternoon and then he started and, Jesus, I couldn't hold still, I couldn't wait for him to get it in me! And while we were fucking, I told myself that I'd played with fate once too often. Kerry and I have a good life, so why was I prowling around, just looking for the chance to screw it up?"
Dianne nodded as she repaired her makeup. "You're right, darling. I know you're not the only housewife who thinks she can find a little taste of spice as a call girl. Admittedly, you were taking fewer chances than many of your professional sisters. You weren't out on the street hustling; you did all your business by telephone, with references required and high enough prices to keep out the trash and scum. Not much chance of meeting a weirdo who gets his kicks slashing you with a razor…"
Pam's face went dead white; she'd never even thought of that possibility. Dear God! And she'd seen that very plot line so often on TV cop shows! Her stomach churned inside her and she caught the rim of the sink for support.
"Don't get upset, darling," Ms. Hagen went on. "You just finished telling me you'd canceled your answering service and hung up Patricia Wright for good. But tell me this – did you ever wonder if any of your clients might not be an executive or representative of our company? Mine and Kerry's? Someone you could perhaps meet socially, now that your husband is a rising star with the firm? Hmmm? What if I'd been a man and we'd come face to face downstairs? Could you have handled that?"
"Jesus," Pam whispered. "I don't know. It's something else I never thought of."
Dianne nodded smugly. "You're still an amateur, Pamela Wilson, but because you're such a promising amateur, I intend to take you under my wing. I like to feel that I have an investment in you, and I want to make that investment pay off. Mostly for me, but it should be fun for you, too."
"I don't see how," Pam said. "I mean…"
"You don't see how you can have an affair with me? Is that what you mean? It's simple. Do you remember what I was telling you in bed this afternoon? That my sexual preference is for women, of course, and you should have no lingering doubts about that, but that I can enjoy a man now and then, too. The technical term for me is 'bisexual'; however, I prefer to think of myself as a lesbian who can switch-hit on occasion. You – well, I think you're basically heterosexual but you show a dazzling potential in my direction, too, and I aim to exploit that potential. And to exploit you, too, darling, exploit you deliciously."
"Anyway, I remember telling you that a man could sometimes give me a little tingle in the ovaries, that I'd met a man today who impressed me as good bedroom fodder. Is any of this getting through to you?"
"Kerry?"
Dianne's green eyes twinkled. "He is attractive, and you've been giving me some juicy details about his performance. Besides, he reminds me of that actor – the one who used to star in all the motorcycle films after Jack Nicholson moved on to better things – all man, all muscle – I have a weakness for the type, just as I have a weakness for your type, tits and ass and soft sweet flesh. Did you see me kiss him downstairs? I did that so you could see. And he didn't pull away, not even when I brushed his mouth."
"It wouldn't work. You couldn't get next to Kerry."
"I can, if I want to. He's a man, Pamela, and any man can be had by a woman who knows how to take him. I'll be coming down from New York as often as I can manage – oh, say, once or twice a week – I'll have to keep track of how he's doing his job. The home office likes to be informed about potential executive material, and Kerry is definitely that, too. My guess is that I'll have him in the sack within – mmmm – ten days. Tops."
Pam's eyes enlarged. She'd never heard anything so cold-blooded in her life, as this woman, talking so candidly about seducing Pam's own beloved husband. Yet she wasn't outraged. If anything, the idea excited her, especially in light of what she and Dianne Hagen were to one another now.
"You'll have to do your part, of course. Freeze up a little. Find excuses not to fuck him. And when you do let him have a slice, be cool and a little bit distant."
"I don't get it. What's in this for me?"
Dianne laughed. "You really are an innocent! Don't you see? I'll make sure that you catch us, that you discover our wicked secret. You turn on the tears. And before Mr. Kerry Wilson knows what's being done to him, the three of us will be enmeshed in a cozy little scene that satisfies all our secret wishes and desires. Basically, you'll have him, with me on the side; I'll have you, with him on the side; and he'll have both of us. I've never known a man who didn't spring up like a radio aerial at the sight of two women going hog wild on one another. Anyway – when we transfer Kerry to the New York office – and we will, you can be assured, because he's going places with the Company – it'll be that much easier. What do you say? Are you game?"