Lightning flared, casting the world in argent which left its imprint seared into Lilith's eyeballs as the subsequent thunder growled like a loitering lioness overhead. She lowered the sniper rifle and blinked hard three or four times to clear her vision before raising the Dragunov to her shoulder once again.
Sergei had been typically economical with the details when he had briefed her about the assignment two days earlier. He'd provided a name, a location, and the time her flight left Moscow; anything beyond that was strictly need-to-know. Lilith preferred it that way. It meant no connection of any kind with the target when the time came to blow a hole in their skull.
From her rooftop vantage point, she sighted down the scope and began to slow her heartrate and her breathing until the view through the lens was rock steady. She ignored the rain which had started to fall in sheets now and focused her concentration squarely on the three-car cortege easing up against the kerbside over half-a-mile away. At this distance the shot would have presented a challenge to any sniper. But in these conditions, and with the window of opportunity so narrow.... Lilith tried to control the adrenalin surge which threatened to thwart the hit and very gently tightened her finger on the trigger.
A flurry of activity surrounded the cortege; flash photography vied petulantly with the intensifying storm as several bodyguards struggled to keep the besieging paparazzi at bay. One of them opened the rear door of the leading silver Daimler and international opera sensation Natalya Patanova stepped out on to the sidewalk.
Lilith tensed. She had the target directly in her sight, the notched crosshair perfectly positioned over the back of the head of the russet-haired diva as she accepted the adulation of her fans and the media. Lilith began to squeeze the trigger....
A sharp intake of air hissed between her teeth as Patanova was suddenly cut off from view by a huge umbrella. For one mad moment, Lilith considered taking the shot anyway, like that time back in Kabul.... But back then the desert conditions had been far more favourable to her blind assault through the drapes of the US embassy. She could not risk it here.
Her eye remained glued to the sight, catching brief glimpses of Patanova as the umbrella danced almost balletically around her. At one point, Lilith thought that she could make the shot as the target paused to scrawl her moniker for several of her more insistent fans. But before Lilith could commit herself fully, Patanova turned and was once more hidden from view as she retreated ever further towards the garishly lit theatre behind her.
The window of opportunity, so narrow to begin with, was now almost closed completely. Yet still Lilith did not move. Patanova had reached the theatre entrance, over which her name burned in gold neon; and when she turned for one last time to acknowledge her admirers -- as she surely would -- Lilith would guarantee that it would be the star's final curtain-call.
On the threshold of the theatre, Patanova paused, and Lilith steeled herself to make certain of the six figures that would be wired directly to her account once the hit was confirmed. She knew that she could rely on the BBC World Service to spread the glad tidings.
Patanova turned, emerging from the cover of the umbrella to raise a hand to her fans, and to pose one more time for the drooling photo-journalists. It was all the opportunity Lilith needed, and she homed in on the centre of Patanova's forehead; the pristine whiteness of her ermine coat formed a perfect canvas for the assassin's bloody artistry.
But as Patanova blew a kiss, Lilith froze. It was an innocuous gesture under the circumstances, and must have been intended for the cameras. But it was the way the opera star seemed to be looking directly back at her, and the all-too-familiar smile that spanned the distance which alerted Lilith to the unforeseen deception.
She whirled, too late. She let off a shot that zipped well-wide of the figure that leapt at her out of the darkness. Then a crushing blow delivered to the back of her head by an unseen accomplice sent her sprawling. Then nothing.
II
She awoke to the unmistakable smell of blood, and knew immediately that it was her own. The unforgiving glare of stark strip lighting assaulted her vision as she tried to open her one good eye. The other languished uselessly beneath a swollen lid that throbbed intolerably.
The chair to which she was cuffed faced a table -- the only other piece of furniture in the stark, musty room awash with cold fluorescence. Behind it sat the woman she had mistaken for Patanova, still in her evening dress, with some shaven-headed thug in a suit alongside her that Lilith presumed to be British secret service. She guessed he was responsible for the beating she had taken.
The woman smiled and sat forward, steepling her fingers beneath her chin. "So kind of you to join us," she said airily, as though she were indeed the opera star she had been impersonating greeting a fan. "My apologies for the subterfuge. Unfortunately, the real Natalya Patanova has a prior engagement at Covent Garden."
Lilith coughed and winced at the pain lancing her ribs as her interrogator opened up a file on the desk and began to idly leaf through its contents.
"You've been a busy girl, Lilith Bukowski. Afghanistan, Iraq, Latin America. Thirty-five hits, all with your name on them. Quite an impressive tally."
Lilith coughed again. "Still nothing compared to the number of people you must have fucked to get to the top, Angelica."
"You really don't care, do you, Lilith? Did that dishonourable discharge actually make you so disaffected that you send your own countrymen back home in bodybags?"
Lilith shrugged. "Everything's ad personam. Usually I just go where the money takes me."
Angelica shook her head and waved her hand dismissively as the immaculately- tailored thug at her side made as if to continue using Lilith as a punchbag.
"Go," she snapped, closing the file and rising from her chair as the agent left the room. She removed the auburn wig and carelessly tossed it aside to reveal a natural brunette bob beneath. As much as Lilith hated to admit it, Angelica Blake still looked fabulous at thirty-five. The figure hugging electric-blue dress -- split to the thigh and plunging daringly at the front -- accentuated the perfect Monroe-esque figure that had done her ascent through the ranks of military intelligence no harm whatsoever. Angelica was the original Mata Hari.
A low beep -- rhythmic and persistent -- suddenly began to sound from somewhere to her left, and Lilith frowned and turned her head to see a squat black box on the bare floor, up against the wall. Several diodes intermittently flashed red and green on its fascia.
"I see I haven't lost my touch," Angelica said with a smile. She perched herself on the edge of the desk and seemed to thrust out her ample chest just that little bit further.
"What the...?" Lilith began as her eyes followed a thin coiled cable which ran across the bare floor from the mysterious box, and up between her legs. She caught a glimpse of her inner thigh where her one-piece stealth suit had been torn open, and for the first time Lilith could feel something fitted snugly inside her.
"Unlike Agent Cresswell," Angelica continued, "I don't always believe in pain as the best means of obtaining the truth. That box is a little something rustled up by our technicians to gauge sexual arousal. And it is quite obviously working."
"Very James Bond," Lilith snorted. "But don't flatter yourself; I'd say your box was fucked."
"And I'd say you're in denial," Angelica replied. "But let's see, shall we?"
Lilith stared back defiantly as Angelica reached behind her back and picked up what looked like a television remote.
"You do realise that this more than constitutes entrapment," she challenged, but Angelica simply gave a wry smile.
"You're an enemy of the state, Lilith. Several states, in fact. Do you really think anyone would give a damn? Besides, if I remember correctly, you always liked it a bit kinky."
"And you hope to gain...er, what, exactly?"
"The Oculus Organisation. You're going to tell me everything you know."
Angelica depressed a button on the remote and Lilith caught her breath at the tingling sensation triggered deep between her thighs. Consciously, Angelica's methods were leaving her singularly unimpressed; but the insistent beep and light show over in the corner betrayed her subconscious dichotomy.
Lilith tried to regain her composure and resumed her insolent stare. "I once had to lie in wait for two days in
the Arctic Circle before I could take out the British ambassador to Norway. If you think your oversized vibrator's going to make me talk, you're in for a big disappointment."
She jerked again, the front legs of the chair leaving the floor for a split second as Angelica once more pressed the button.
"Pain thresholds can be almost superhumanly high in even the most unexpected individuals. Sexual yearning on the other hand is the most irresistible drive of the entire animal kingdom," she replied as Lilith gasped.
"You'll talk."
Lilith shook her head and curled her lip. "Just because we were fuck-buddies for what -- six months? -- don't presume to know how I tick."
"Oculus," Angelica repeated slowly. "They're planning a high profile hit on someone much bigger than a tacky diva prone to spilling the Russian premier's pillow-talk. I want to know who it is."
"Well I still say you should be doing a Guantanamo on me and pulling out my fingernails if it's that big," Lilith sneered. She narrowed her eyes. "Or is this more about you, Angelica? 'Cos the way I remember it, you always did like to be in charge of the proceedings."
"You never used to complain." Angelica sighed. "And back then, we used to share everything."
"Like make-up, the occasional boyfriend," Lilith rhymed scornfully. "For God's sake, we were nineteen years old! And you weren't the deputy head of British Intelligence."
"No," Angelica said grimly. "And you weren't a member of an international network of anti-western guns for hire."
"Well, it beats social security."
Angelica just smiled and gave Lilith another few seconds of sensory stimulation which left the assassin gaping for air.
"Oh, God," she groaned, only half-consciously. The box was lit up like Blackpool tower; as much as she fought to resist its effects, that bloody device was beginning to break down her defences. And it didn't help that she hadn't got herself laid in over a month. She'd known she'd end up living to regret passing up that one night stand with the hunky Pole down in Soho the night before....
"Come on, Lilith," Angelica coaxed. "We know you're close to the head of Oculus. All I'm asking you to do is share one more time."
Lilith hesitated as the blood pumped madly in her ears. Suddenly, the swell of Angelica's breasts was looking exceptionally inviting....
She shook her head to clear it and drew a deep breath. "Sorry, can't help you -- "
The rest of the sentence was swallowed in a protracted groan as Angelica kept her forefinger on the button for a full half-minute. Lilith felt as though she were melting in her seat, and she strained towards Angelica with a hungry look in her eyes.
Angelica sauntered round behind Lilith, who felt her ex-lover's breath warm on her neck.
"You want me as much as you ever did," Angelica breathed. She smoothed her hands over Lilith's shoulders, her fingertips locating the unobtrusive zip of her stealth suit. "As much as I still want you."
The zip was suddenly down to Lilith's navel, and she snatched a breath as Angelica cupped a hand beneath each of her breasts and caressed them with a reverence one might reserve for some holy relic. Lilith's eyes fluttered closed as the box blared its own erratic son et lumiere.
Then suddenly Angelica's hands were gone as she moved back round to face her tormented captive. Lilith opened her eyes to find Angelica's own misty gaze locked on to her.
"A little information, Lilith. That's all I need. And in return...." Angelica smiled and gestured loosely towards her amazing body. "Do we have a deal?"
Lilith could barely think straight. "And afterwards?" she broached. "I'm an enemy of the state, remember?"
Angelica shrugged. "We're British Intelligence; we can do what we want. I'm sure we can come to a mutually
satisfactory arrangement."
"So what about a down payment?" Lilith tossed her loose blonde hair to one side and regarded Angelica like a famished woman ogling a full English. "You know -- an added incentive to deliver."
"Quid pro quo, Lilith," she croaked, the breaking of her voice betraying her own sexual tension. "Let's call it a sign of good faith."
Lilith let her gaze rove wantonly over Angelica's body as she conceded: "Target Seven; that's the designation."
"Where?" Angelica pressed.
"Here. London."
"When?"
"As soon as." Lilith smiled and ran her tongue over her lips suggestively. "Now, are you going to come over here and fuck me, or what?"
Angelica returned the smile and stood just that little bit higher as she folded her arms across that voluptuous chest of hers.
"Afraid not, Lilith," she sighed with a rueful shake of her head. "As much as I want to."
"You conniving bitch," Lilith hissed.
"Takes one to know one, Lilith," Angelica parried. "You must be holding out on me, because that was just way too easy. So maybe I was wrong; maybe Agent Cresswell's way is the most effective one to extract the God's honest from you."
Lilith set her jaw as Angelica crouched beside her chair and stared into her eyes. "Which is such a pity," she murmured, fingering stray strands of Lilith's hair away from her bruised cheek. "Such a waste."
Her eyes flickered from Lilith's eyes to her lips as she very slowly leaned forward to brush them with a kiss.
Lilith's heart skipped at the contact which unearthed so many long-buried memories. Angelica drew back an inch and met Lilith's eyes once more, before kisssing her again. Harder this time. Deeper....
Lilith responded as Angelica ate into the caress, yielding to the thrust of her tongue as it forced its way hungrily between her lips. Angelica's hand was behind her head now, running through her tousled hair, her nails biting into her scalp; her other hand had slipped back inside Lilith's stealth suit to clamp over her breasts in turn.
The change in mood took less than a second as Angelica pulled away, coughing. She tried to stand, stumbling backwards against the desk which sent her veering off at an angle, clutching at her throat. She tried to speak, but only her wide, unblinking eyes could communicate her horror.
Lilith just stared impassively as the poisoned tooth dissolved in Angelica's stomach acid, releasing its lethal cocktail into her bloodstream. The results were agonising but swift, and the deputy head of British Intelligence collapsed, thrashing wildly on the floor as the chemical concoction waged an all-out assault on every single one of her vital organs.
In less than a minute it was all over. Lilith was surprised at how little real emotion she felt at sight of the inert corpse of Target Seven lying just a few feet away. The designation had been her own, a personal reminder of the number of zeros that would make up the sum wired to her account by grateful Irish Republicans. The price on Patanova's head looked like small change by comparison.
Still, she was never one to renege on a contract. Covent Garden, Angelica had said. Now all she had to do was get out of these bloody handcuffs.
The box in the corner was blaring like a burglar alarm.
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
A Woman's Touch
Danielle arrived at the door of the sprawling suburban detached, breathless and half an hour later than she had intended. She paused momentarily to regain her composure and smooth down her dress before seeking the doorbell. Still she hesitated, her perfectly manicured finger hovering over the button, the glossy red nail shimmering in the early evening sunlight.
She had been uncertain about coming here ever since the invitation over a week before. This whole set-up just wasn't Danielle Clark's usual thing. She was the introverted, curl-up-with-a-book kinda girl, only vicariously exploring human sexulaity courtesy of the latest Mitzi Szereto novel. But how many friends had urged her to get out more -- to live a little, and get laid a lot?
Danielle took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell, once and hard. Well maybe her friends were right, although whether they'd had this sort of thing in mind when they doled out their advice was hardly likely. Having said that, she could well imagine Imogen from the typing pool being an aficionado!
It seemed to take forever for anyone to answer the door, long enough for Danielle to admire the large front garden hemmed in by Leyland hedges, and perfumed with the honeyed scent of alyssium carpeting immaculate borders. Long enough, also, for Danielle to reconsider making a run for it down the long drive....
Too late. She heard someone fumbling with the lock, and the stout hardwood door swung soundlessly open. Suddenly self-conscious, Danielle had trouble making eye contact so that the first thing she noticed was the luxurious crimson shagpile which swept down a broad staircase and into the expansive hallway.
"Now I'm guessing you must be Danielle," the warm and slightly husky voice said, and Danielle finally found the courage to raise her eyes to meet those of the attractive brunette with the looks of Teri Hatcher framed in the doorway. "Everyone else is here, but don't worry. You haven't missed much of the fun!"
"Heavy traffic," Danielle lied as she stepped into the hallway, but the woman dismissed her excuse with a shake of her head and an extended hand.
"I told you not to worry," she rebuked gently. "I'm Clarissa; we spoke on the phone."
Danielle nodded. How could she forget? The spur of the moment telephone call she had made during her lunchbreak at the shipping company. All week she had been left wondering what it might have been that had possessed her to throw caution to the wind like that. Answering a small ad for a second-hand sofa or something was one thing. But this?
Part of her was still hufely tempted to run for the door. The trouble was, another, greater part was more tempted to stay! She took a deep breath and told herself to get a grip. For God's sake, you only lived once!
Up until a few months before, Danielle had never been into other women. But whether she had spent too many evenings in with rather one-too-many erotic novels, she didn't know. All she did know was that she suddenly began to find herself attracted to certain members of her own sex. Imogen from the typing pool had been one of the first to catch her eye; the way her short skirt had clung to every beautiful inch of her arse as she had draped herself over the photocopier looking for the switch! After a few minutes, it wasn't just the photocopier that Imogen had succeeded in turning on!
And today, Clarissa. Danielle felt her eyes drawn to her host's figure-hugging blue dress, and the particularly daring neckline which offered a tantalising glimpse of a near-fathomless cleavage. Danielle's eyes stayed there and stared -- too long, she realised, for Clarissa not to have noticed the fevered fixation.
Coughing her way awkwardly out of her reverie, Danielle looked up to see confirmation of her fears in Clarissa's smiling sapphire eyes. Should she say something? Apologise perhaps?
"Sorry," she began, but was silenced as Clarissa took hold of her hand.
"What for?" Clarissa whispered, and then guided Danielle's hand to one of her breasts, pressing it down firmly until Danielle's palm was filled with its firm contours. Danielle caught her breath, at once shocked and thrilled by the sensation of Clarissa's ripe breast within her grasp. She found herself unable to resist the overwhelming urge to squeeze, massaging her fingers into the delicious swell of flesh, drawing a soft sigh of pleasure from Clarissa's lips.
"Oh God," Danielle breathed, almost unconsciously responding to the familiar fire that was beginning to burn deep between her thighs. All of her instincts wanted Clarissa right there and then in the hallway. It was crazy, she knew, when they had only just met. But that was animal attraction for you!
As if reading her every thought, Clarissa pushed her back against the wall and clamped her own hands over Danielle's breasts, kneading them hungrily through the black satin of her dress. Danielle's involuntary moan of pleasure was stifled by Clarissa's lips pressing softly on to hers, with just the slightest thrust of Clarissa's tongue uniting them ever so fleetingly. Danielle felt her dress being hitched up at the waist, and Clarissa's hand gliding over her abdomen; pausing at the edge of her panties and then drifting ever lower, smoothing over the damp material.
Planting a trail of kisses on her throat and neck, Clarissa's lips arrived at Danielle's ear. "Do you know how flattering it is," she whispered, "to know I've turned you on so much?"
Danielle moaned as Clarissa fondled her pussy through her moist panties. "There's something just that little bit special about a woman's touch, don't you think?" added Clarissa.
Clarissa pulled back suddenly, leaving Danielle breathless and tormented by a raging inferno of desire.
"But of course you do, sweetheart," Clarissa smiled. "Or why else bother to answer my advert?"
She took Danielle by the hand and led her to the stairs. "Come on, it's time to introduce you to the others."
II
Danielle's heart began to pound with excitement and an empty ache of longing gripped the pit of her stomach at the scene unfolding before her eyes in the huge master bedroom. Clarissa closed the door behind them and gently guided Danielle towards the outsize divan in the centre of the room, where a stunning redhead lay with her legs wide apart to accommodate the increasingly urgent caresses of the half-dozen or so other women surrounding her on the bed.
Danielle felt suddenly overdressed. All the women were either naked or stripped down to their lingerie. None appeared to be sensible to her presence as she drew closer to the bed in time to see the lovely redhead buck and groan at an especially powerful surge of sensation generated by the various fingers competing to stroke her between her thighs. A film of sweat covered the redheads fabulous figure, and her nipples were so hard and erect that they had to be seen to be believed. As Danielle watched, transfixed, one of the women lowered her head,and began to suckle on each of the redhead's perfectly-formed breasts in turn.
"Her name's Sarah," Clarissa said. "Beautiful, isn't she?"
"Oh, absolutely," Danielle sighed, her awestruck gaze never leaving the erotic scene.
"Like to join in?"
Danielle swallowed. Her new self-confidence momentarily wavered, and she felt torn by the conflicting emotions of fear and yearning. But then Sarah groaned again, louder now, spreading her legs ever wider for her desire to be satisfied. And Danielle's fear vanished at the sight of the gorgeous young nymph panting, sweating and writhing on the bed.
"Unzip me," she pleaded with Clarissa, who smiled and nodded. Danielle's dress fell in a heap round her ankles, and she stepped out of it, kicking off her high heels and shaking out her long black hair as she approached the divan. A pretty blonde sat on the edge of the bed, her hair twisted into a single braid which reached all the way down to a sexy butterfly tattoo at the bottom of her back. Danielle moved in behind her, smoothing her hands over the girl's flawless shoulders.
"Hi," Danielle said softly, and the beautiful blonde tilted back her head and smiled.
"Hi yourself."
"May I?" Danielle broached, slipping a finger under the girl's bra strap to show what she had in mind.
"What are you waiting for?" the blonde replied huskily.
The other women had begun to move their attention away from the spent Sarah to pair off with each other, and Danielle could barely contain her excitement as the sexy blonde unhooked her bra, slipped the straps from her shoulders and dropped the lacy lingerie onto the bed. Almost in a daze, Danielle ran her hands over the girl's shoulders once again, but this time continued her exploration lower and curled her slender fingers under the firm swell of her breasts. Danielle squeezed ever so slightly, then lifted the full bosom, cupping it reverently.
"God, you're gorgeous," Danielle enthused passionately, squeezing harder now as her lust demanded, and lowering her head to kiss the girl's neck. "And I don't even know your name," she breathed into the soft caress.
"Kate," the blonde whispered, turning her head to seek out Danielle's lips. They kissed, and Danielle joined Kate on the bed, lying back to surrender her own curvaceous body to her new lover's touch. Danielle sighed her encouragement at the eager fingers grasping her admirable breasts through the low-cut bra she was wearing, and the warm lips which planted a kiss on each swell of flesh threatening to spill out of the delicate cups. Then Kate's fingers located the front clasp and the bra released its voluptuous load fully.
"Yes," Danielle urged, holding Kate's head to her breast as she fastened her mouth onto the hard nipple whilst fondling Danielle's other tit. Danielle was sure she must have died and gone to heaven! She groaned, far louder than she'd intended, but realised that she didn't give a damn! Her pussy was aching like she'd never known, and all she wanted was to be fucked by the gorgeous blonde creature.
Closing her eyes, relishing the blissful sensation of Kate's suckling, Danielle caught her breath as another pair of velvety lips began drawing on her other nipple. Her eyes flickered open again so see the ever insatiable Sarah staring right back at her as she cupped Danielle's breast and swirled her soft tongue over the sensitive peak.
Danielle groaned and entwined her fingers in Sarah's silky auburn tresses.
"Please," she rasped, opening her legs. "Please, fuck me!"
Fingertips ever so slowly slipped down the front of her wet panties. Danielle almost sobbed with pleasure, and when other fingers strayed lower and pushed deep inside, her whole body shuddered. The sensual caress and thrust of fingers deep between her legs pushed Danielle beyond the limits of her self-control, and she cried out as the orgasmic blaze ignited and roared over her entire body.
"Oh God!" she gasped. "Sweet Jesus!"
Then, too soon, the climax waned, leaving Danielle fighting for air. She released the damp sheets bunched up inside her clenched fists and opened her eyes to see not only Kate and Sarah, but the rest of the women staring in admiration at her flushed, sweat-soaked body.
Among them, the lovely Clarissa, who had already begun to slip out of that sexy blue dress of hers....
She had been uncertain about coming here ever since the invitation over a week before. This whole set-up just wasn't Danielle Clark's usual thing. She was the introverted, curl-up-with-a-book kinda girl, only vicariously exploring human sexulaity courtesy of the latest Mitzi Szereto novel. But how many friends had urged her to get out more -- to live a little, and get laid a lot?
Danielle took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell, once and hard. Well maybe her friends were right, although whether they'd had this sort of thing in mind when they doled out their advice was hardly likely. Having said that, she could well imagine Imogen from the typing pool being an aficionado!
It seemed to take forever for anyone to answer the door, long enough for Danielle to admire the large front garden hemmed in by Leyland hedges, and perfumed with the honeyed scent of alyssium carpeting immaculate borders. Long enough, also, for Danielle to reconsider making a run for it down the long drive....
Too late. She heard someone fumbling with the lock, and the stout hardwood door swung soundlessly open. Suddenly self-conscious, Danielle had trouble making eye contact so that the first thing she noticed was the luxurious crimson shagpile which swept down a broad staircase and into the expansive hallway.
"Now I'm guessing you must be Danielle," the warm and slightly husky voice said, and Danielle finally found the courage to raise her eyes to meet those of the attractive brunette with the looks of Teri Hatcher framed in the doorway. "Everyone else is here, but don't worry. You haven't missed much of the fun!"
"Heavy traffic," Danielle lied as she stepped into the hallway, but the woman dismissed her excuse with a shake of her head and an extended hand.
"I told you not to worry," she rebuked gently. "I'm Clarissa; we spoke on the phone."
Danielle nodded. How could she forget? The spur of the moment telephone call she had made during her lunchbreak at the shipping company. All week she had been left wondering what it might have been that had possessed her to throw caution to the wind like that. Answering a small ad for a second-hand sofa or something was one thing. But this?
Part of her was still hufely tempted to run for the door. The trouble was, another, greater part was more tempted to stay! She took a deep breath and told herself to get a grip. For God's sake, you only lived once!
Up until a few months before, Danielle had never been into other women. But whether she had spent too many evenings in with rather one-too-many erotic novels, she didn't know. All she did know was that she suddenly began to find herself attracted to certain members of her own sex. Imogen from the typing pool had been one of the first to catch her eye; the way her short skirt had clung to every beautiful inch of her arse as she had draped herself over the photocopier looking for the switch! After a few minutes, it wasn't just the photocopier that Imogen had succeeded in turning on!
And today, Clarissa. Danielle felt her eyes drawn to her host's figure-hugging blue dress, and the particularly daring neckline which offered a tantalising glimpse of a near-fathomless cleavage. Danielle's eyes stayed there and stared -- too long, she realised, for Clarissa not to have noticed the fevered fixation.
Coughing her way awkwardly out of her reverie, Danielle looked up to see confirmation of her fears in Clarissa's smiling sapphire eyes. Should she say something? Apologise perhaps?
"Sorry," she began, but was silenced as Clarissa took hold of her hand.
"What for?" Clarissa whispered, and then guided Danielle's hand to one of her breasts, pressing it down firmly until Danielle's palm was filled with its firm contours. Danielle caught her breath, at once shocked and thrilled by the sensation of Clarissa's ripe breast within her grasp. She found herself unable to resist the overwhelming urge to squeeze, massaging her fingers into the delicious swell of flesh, drawing a soft sigh of pleasure from Clarissa's lips.
"Oh God," Danielle breathed, almost unconsciously responding to the familiar fire that was beginning to burn deep between her thighs. All of her instincts wanted Clarissa right there and then in the hallway. It was crazy, she knew, when they had only just met. But that was animal attraction for you!
As if reading her every thought, Clarissa pushed her back against the wall and clamped her own hands over Danielle's breasts, kneading them hungrily through the black satin of her dress. Danielle's involuntary moan of pleasure was stifled by Clarissa's lips pressing softly on to hers, with just the slightest thrust of Clarissa's tongue uniting them ever so fleetingly. Danielle felt her dress being hitched up at the waist, and Clarissa's hand gliding over her abdomen; pausing at the edge of her panties and then drifting ever lower, smoothing over the damp material.
Planting a trail of kisses on her throat and neck, Clarissa's lips arrived at Danielle's ear. "Do you know how flattering it is," she whispered, "to know I've turned you on so much?"
Danielle moaned as Clarissa fondled her pussy through her moist panties. "There's something just that little bit special about a woman's touch, don't you think?" added Clarissa.
Clarissa pulled back suddenly, leaving Danielle breathless and tormented by a raging inferno of desire.
"But of course you do, sweetheart," Clarissa smiled. "Or why else bother to answer my advert?"
She took Danielle by the hand and led her to the stairs. "Come on, it's time to introduce you to the others."
II
Danielle's heart began to pound with excitement and an empty ache of longing gripped the pit of her stomach at the scene unfolding before her eyes in the huge master bedroom. Clarissa closed the door behind them and gently guided Danielle towards the outsize divan in the centre of the room, where a stunning redhead lay with her legs wide apart to accommodate the increasingly urgent caresses of the half-dozen or so other women surrounding her on the bed.
Danielle felt suddenly overdressed. All the women were either naked or stripped down to their lingerie. None appeared to be sensible to her presence as she drew closer to the bed in time to see the lovely redhead buck and groan at an especially powerful surge of sensation generated by the various fingers competing to stroke her between her thighs. A film of sweat covered the redheads fabulous figure, and her nipples were so hard and erect that they had to be seen to be believed. As Danielle watched, transfixed, one of the women lowered her head,and began to suckle on each of the redhead's perfectly-formed breasts in turn.
"Her name's Sarah," Clarissa said. "Beautiful, isn't she?"
"Oh, absolutely," Danielle sighed, her awestruck gaze never leaving the erotic scene.
"Like to join in?"
Danielle swallowed. Her new self-confidence momentarily wavered, and she felt torn by the conflicting emotions of fear and yearning. But then Sarah groaned again, louder now, spreading her legs ever wider for her desire to be satisfied. And Danielle's fear vanished at the sight of the gorgeous young nymph panting, sweating and writhing on the bed.
"Unzip me," she pleaded with Clarissa, who smiled and nodded. Danielle's dress fell in a heap round her ankles, and she stepped out of it, kicking off her high heels and shaking out her long black hair as she approached the divan. A pretty blonde sat on the edge of the bed, her hair twisted into a single braid which reached all the way down to a sexy butterfly tattoo at the bottom of her back. Danielle moved in behind her, smoothing her hands over the girl's flawless shoulders.
"Hi," Danielle said softly, and the beautiful blonde tilted back her head and smiled.
"Hi yourself."
"May I?" Danielle broached, slipping a finger under the girl's bra strap to show what she had in mind.
"What are you waiting for?" the blonde replied huskily.
The other women had begun to move their attention away from the spent Sarah to pair off with each other, and Danielle could barely contain her excitement as the sexy blonde unhooked her bra, slipped the straps from her shoulders and dropped the lacy lingerie onto the bed. Almost in a daze, Danielle ran her hands over the girl's shoulders once again, but this time continued her exploration lower and curled her slender fingers under the firm swell of her breasts. Danielle squeezed ever so slightly, then lifted the full bosom, cupping it reverently.
"God, you're gorgeous," Danielle enthused passionately, squeezing harder now as her lust demanded, and lowering her head to kiss the girl's neck. "And I don't even know your name," she breathed into the soft caress.
"Kate," the blonde whispered, turning her head to seek out Danielle's lips. They kissed, and Danielle joined Kate on the bed, lying back to surrender her own curvaceous body to her new lover's touch. Danielle sighed her encouragement at the eager fingers grasping her admirable breasts through the low-cut bra she was wearing, and the warm lips which planted a kiss on each swell of flesh threatening to spill out of the delicate cups. Then Kate's fingers located the front clasp and the bra released its voluptuous load fully.
"Yes," Danielle urged, holding Kate's head to her breast as she fastened her mouth onto the hard nipple whilst fondling Danielle's other tit. Danielle was sure she must have died and gone to heaven! She groaned, far louder than she'd intended, but realised that she didn't give a damn! Her pussy was aching like she'd never known, and all she wanted was to be fucked by the gorgeous blonde creature.
Closing her eyes, relishing the blissful sensation of Kate's suckling, Danielle caught her breath as another pair of velvety lips began drawing on her other nipple. Her eyes flickered open again so see the ever insatiable Sarah staring right back at her as she cupped Danielle's breast and swirled her soft tongue over the sensitive peak.
Danielle groaned and entwined her fingers in Sarah's silky auburn tresses.
"Please," she rasped, opening her legs. "Please, fuck me!"
Fingertips ever so slowly slipped down the front of her wet panties. Danielle almost sobbed with pleasure, and when other fingers strayed lower and pushed deep inside, her whole body shuddered. The sensual caress and thrust of fingers deep between her legs pushed Danielle beyond the limits of her self-control, and she cried out as the orgasmic blaze ignited and roared over her entire body.
"Oh God!" she gasped. "Sweet Jesus!"
Then, too soon, the climax waned, leaving Danielle fighting for air. She released the damp sheets bunched up inside her clenched fists and opened her eyes to see not only Kate and Sarah, but the rest of the women staring in admiration at her flushed, sweat-soaked body.
Among them, the lovely Clarissa, who had already begun to slip out of that sexy blue dress of hers....
Going Up?
Edward Anthony Morgan was an asshole of the highest degree. That was the conclusion which Meredith Shaw had arrived at as she stared at the jumped-up little creep over the tea trolley.
´One or two lumps, dear?´
Meredith only half-registered Sally´s tremulous enquiry.
´Er, none,´ she mumbled to the elderly tea lady, still distracted by Morgan´s irritating swagger as he walked past the photocopier. ´I have sweetener.´
She slowly rose from her seat, ignoring Sally´s disapproving cluck of her tonge. Meredith was simply too angry right now to care about the old woman´s opinion that nothing could ever replace real sugar. Setting her full lips in a determined line, she marched resolutely towards Morgan who was laughing and flirting openly with one of the temps from the typing pool.
´Er, excuse me, Mister Morgan,´ she butted in, unable to keep the contempt she held him in from her tone.
Morgan only half-turned, as if he had merely been momentarily distracted by a fly that didn‘t deserve any more of his precious attention than a cursory glance. To Meredith´s rising annoyance, he continued to laugh like an overgrown schoolboy with the weary looking secretary.
´Mister Morgan!´
The words came out louder than even she had intended. A slight hush descended over the immediate vicinity of the large open-plan office, and Morgan turned to face her fully now. Raising himself to his full height, he looked down at her in patent disapproval, his face reddening a little in the sure sign of his irritation.
´Yes?´ he said slowly, like an headmaster addressing an impertinent student. And ordinarily, Meredith might have quavered beneath his glowering expression. But not now. Her anger made her impervious to any such effect!
She cleared her throat and tried to match Morgan´s attempt at exaggerating his stature by standing as tall as her high heels would allow her.
´I believe that you recently received an application from a friend of mine,´ she began. Morgan began to shake his head but Meredith added impatiently: ´Sarah Hardcastle?´
Morgan still looked nonplussed for a second or two, then recognition flickered across his face.
´Mm, yes, I remember now.´ He shrugged dismissively. ´And?´
Meredith silently fumed, although she knew that her anger must be showing on her face. ´And you didn´t even give her the courtesy of an interview,´ she replied.
Morgan´s eyes widened. ´And of what business is that to you? Do you expect me to consult you about every decision my department makes?´
Meredith shook her head. ´Of course not,´ she snapped. ´But Sarah has qualifications and experience by the bucketload. And the position of personal assistant is still being advertised!´
´Qualifications and experience aren´t everything, Miss Vernon,´ he growled, and began to walk away. ´Attitude is important too.´
Meredith frowned. That kind of excuse made no sense whatsoever. Sarah was one of the nicest and most conscientious people she had ever known. And she wasn´t just saying that because she was a friend.
But then it clicked, the implication of Morgan´s words, and she stared after him in loathing.
´You mean just because she was immune to your charms, you slimey creep,´ she murmured.
Well, she thought bitterly. When it came to that kind of immunity, Sarah wasn´t the only one!
***
Meredith spent the rest of the morning and all of her lunch hour getting progressively angrier about Morgan. He had the gall to accuse others of an attitude, when his positively stank! By the time she returned to her desk in the early afternoon, she felt like smashing the computer monitor over his head every time he sauntered past. She was glad when the hands on her watch finally crept round to 5.30 so that she could go home.
As she stood waiting for the elevator, she closed her eyes, dreaming of the long hot bath waiting for her at home which would help soak away the cares of the day. She looked forward to letting Morgan drain down the plughole!
She heard the tell-tale ping of the lift doors and opened her eyes.
And there stood Morgan!
Oh God, she thought, hesitating for a second. Not now!
She took a deep breath as she forced herself to get into the lift. She´d put up with the patronising bastard this far; another minute or so wouldn´t make any difference.
Meredith stared at her feet as the doors slid shut and the lift began to descend. She didn´t trust herself not to say anything if she diverted her gaze even a fraction in Morgan´s direction. She was trying to think of something to help take her mind off the fact that she was in the company of the biggest creep in the entire company when the lift suddenly ground to an unexpected halt. She snapped up her eyes to find Morgan with his hand hovering over the control panel.
She returned his stare, as coldly as she could possibly make it, which wasn´t hard after the day she´d had. ´Was that you?´ she asked
Morgan tilted his head to one side a little, like a dog. ´What exactly is your problem with me?´ he responded with a question of his own.
The totally unexpected riposte startled Meredith into momentary silence. She didn´t know what to say....
´It´s okay,´ Morgan assured her, leaning back against the lift wall and folding his arms. ´You can tell me. One hundred percent honesty with no consequences.´
Yeah, right, Meredith thought sceptically. He was just begging for an excuse to fire her, and she wasn´t about to hand it to him on a plate!
Morgan must have sensed her cynicism and he held up his hands. ´No consequences,´ he repeated slowly.
Meredith opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, then gave it to him with both barrels as the last of her reticence abandoned her!
´All right, Mister Morgan, you asked,´ she began, eyeing her superior up and down with undisguised distaste. ´You are the most...arrogant...sexist... and...conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to work with. And those are just your good points!´
She was breathing heavily and hadn´t realised that she had taken a step forward and was jabbing her finger at Morgan accusingly. She cleared her throat self-consciously as she noticed Morgan´s mouth curling slightly at the corners. But there was nothing bombastic or sarastic about the humour it suggested. He seemed genuinely amused by her tirade!
´Please, Ms Vernon, don´t mince your words,´ he said, unable to suppress a small laugh.
He fell into silence again after a few seconds and held her in his gaze. Despite herself, Meredith was unable to separate her eyes from his.....
´So I suppose dinner is out of the question?´ he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
´With you?´
Meredith had been unable to stop herself. God, she thought. The very idea!
Morgan moved and took a step forward of his own so that they were only inches apart. She could smell the subtle fragrance of aftershave and hated herself for the way his presence was causing her heart to race!
´Well, do you see anyone else in here right now?´ he asked softly.
´God, you are so full of yourself,´ she croaked, looking up into his face and not understanding why her loathing was melting away like ice before the sun. His eyes locked onto hers again so that she felt as though she was being hypnotized, drawn into their magnetic lure....
The first kiss was gentle. Soft, warm lips teasing her own ever so lightly. She closed her eyes tightly, resolving to resist the temptation to....
Hungrily she responded, with an unexpected force and passion. Morgan stumbled back against the elevator wall as she ate ravenously into the kiss. He pushed the coat from her shoulders and she felt his hands slip to her waist where they began to work upwards, undoing the long line of buttons that secured her blouse. As his fingers arrived at the last of them, Meredith shifted her body impatiently, shrugging off the loose blouse so that it fell in a heap to the lift floor.
Reaching behind her back, he unclasped her bra, which surrendered her breasts to his grasp. She caught her breath, first as his fingers fastened firmly over them, then again as he lowered his head and raised them to his mouth in turn. Her heart racing madly, she bit on her lip, thrilling to the tingle like electricity which his soft lips were generating as he drew on each hardening nipple.
She was trembling like a leaf when he finally lifted his head, silencing her quick breaths with another deep, lingering kiss as he pushed her back now against the opposite wall. His hand instinctively reached for the zip to her skirt and in seconds it was sliding down Meredith´s smooth thighs. Her hands sought the belt of his trousers in turn, and she swallowed in amazement at the obvious effect her body was having on him as she reached inside....
And then, slowly and deliberately, he took her!
Her mouth fastened onto his as he slipped into her with a groan and settled his body into a rhythm that disconnected Meredith´s mind completely from everything apart from this moment! The world could have ended, but nothing would have intruded upon the bliss with which each movement of Morgan´s hips was enveloping her whole body! His hands sought her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them with the kind of reverence one might have reserved for some holy relic, leading Meredith ever closer to that point of inevitability, where she would be thrust completely into mindless abandon!
She reached it sooner rather than later! Grasping Morgan´s shoulders, she cried out and threw back her head to surrender her throat to his kisses! The climax struck her like a tidal wave, crashing over her whole body and leaving her gasping for hair and soaked in sweat....
And then he came too, lured into his release by the bucking of her own body against his. Moaning softly into her neck, he thrust deeper, and Meredith held onto him as he emptied his desire completely into her before slumping , spent, into her arms just seconds later.
´So is that a yes?´ he mumbled breathlessly.
´Sorry?´ Meredith asked, still trying to steady her own breathing.
Morgan lifted his head and smiled. ´Dinner,´ he reminded her. ´Only I know this great little Mexican number not too far away. Or....´
His eyes sparkled suggestively and Meredith smiled back. ´Or...?´ she asked, widening her large green eyes in mock innocence.
He kissed her again slowly. ´Or we could just skip straight to the dessert,´ he whispered softly as he pulled out of the caress, and Meredith laughed.
´I´ve heard it´s the only way to eat dinner, she replied. She pursed her lips. ´Just one condition.´
Morgan sighed and nodded. ´I know, I know,´ he conceded. ´Tell your friend that she can start first thing Monday morning.´
´One or two lumps, dear?´
Meredith only half-registered Sally´s tremulous enquiry.
´Er, none,´ she mumbled to the elderly tea lady, still distracted by Morgan´s irritating swagger as he walked past the photocopier. ´I have sweetener.´
She slowly rose from her seat, ignoring Sally´s disapproving cluck of her tonge. Meredith was simply too angry right now to care about the old woman´s opinion that nothing could ever replace real sugar. Setting her full lips in a determined line, she marched resolutely towards Morgan who was laughing and flirting openly with one of the temps from the typing pool.
´Er, excuse me, Mister Morgan,´ she butted in, unable to keep the contempt she held him in from her tone.
Morgan only half-turned, as if he had merely been momentarily distracted by a fly that didn‘t deserve any more of his precious attention than a cursory glance. To Meredith´s rising annoyance, he continued to laugh like an overgrown schoolboy with the weary looking secretary.
´Mister Morgan!´
The words came out louder than even she had intended. A slight hush descended over the immediate vicinity of the large open-plan office, and Morgan turned to face her fully now. Raising himself to his full height, he looked down at her in patent disapproval, his face reddening a little in the sure sign of his irritation.
´Yes?´ he said slowly, like an headmaster addressing an impertinent student. And ordinarily, Meredith might have quavered beneath his glowering expression. But not now. Her anger made her impervious to any such effect!
She cleared her throat and tried to match Morgan´s attempt at exaggerating his stature by standing as tall as her high heels would allow her.
´I believe that you recently received an application from a friend of mine,´ she began. Morgan began to shake his head but Meredith added impatiently: ´Sarah Hardcastle?´
Morgan still looked nonplussed for a second or two, then recognition flickered across his face.
´Mm, yes, I remember now.´ He shrugged dismissively. ´And?´
Meredith silently fumed, although she knew that her anger must be showing on her face. ´And you didn´t even give her the courtesy of an interview,´ she replied.
Morgan´s eyes widened. ´And of what business is that to you? Do you expect me to consult you about every decision my department makes?´
Meredith shook her head. ´Of course not,´ she snapped. ´But Sarah has qualifications and experience by the bucketload. And the position of personal assistant is still being advertised!´
´Qualifications and experience aren´t everything, Miss Vernon,´ he growled, and began to walk away. ´Attitude is important too.´
Meredith frowned. That kind of excuse made no sense whatsoever. Sarah was one of the nicest and most conscientious people she had ever known. And she wasn´t just saying that because she was a friend.
But then it clicked, the implication of Morgan´s words, and she stared after him in loathing.
´You mean just because she was immune to your charms, you slimey creep,´ she murmured.
Well, she thought bitterly. When it came to that kind of immunity, Sarah wasn´t the only one!
***
Meredith spent the rest of the morning and all of her lunch hour getting progressively angrier about Morgan. He had the gall to accuse others of an attitude, when his positively stank! By the time she returned to her desk in the early afternoon, she felt like smashing the computer monitor over his head every time he sauntered past. She was glad when the hands on her watch finally crept round to 5.30 so that she could go home.
As she stood waiting for the elevator, she closed her eyes, dreaming of the long hot bath waiting for her at home which would help soak away the cares of the day. She looked forward to letting Morgan drain down the plughole!
She heard the tell-tale ping of the lift doors and opened her eyes.
And there stood Morgan!
Oh God, she thought, hesitating for a second. Not now!
She took a deep breath as she forced herself to get into the lift. She´d put up with the patronising bastard this far; another minute or so wouldn´t make any difference.
Meredith stared at her feet as the doors slid shut and the lift began to descend. She didn´t trust herself not to say anything if she diverted her gaze even a fraction in Morgan´s direction. She was trying to think of something to help take her mind off the fact that she was in the company of the biggest creep in the entire company when the lift suddenly ground to an unexpected halt. She snapped up her eyes to find Morgan with his hand hovering over the control panel.
She returned his stare, as coldly as she could possibly make it, which wasn´t hard after the day she´d had. ´Was that you?´ she asked
Morgan tilted his head to one side a little, like a dog. ´What exactly is your problem with me?´ he responded with a question of his own.
The totally unexpected riposte startled Meredith into momentary silence. She didn´t know what to say....
´It´s okay,´ Morgan assured her, leaning back against the lift wall and folding his arms. ´You can tell me. One hundred percent honesty with no consequences.´
Yeah, right, Meredith thought sceptically. He was just begging for an excuse to fire her, and she wasn´t about to hand it to him on a plate!
Morgan must have sensed her cynicism and he held up his hands. ´No consequences,´ he repeated slowly.
Meredith opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, then gave it to him with both barrels as the last of her reticence abandoned her!
´All right, Mister Morgan, you asked,´ she began, eyeing her superior up and down with undisguised distaste. ´You are the most...arrogant...sexist... and...conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to work with. And those are just your good points!´
She was breathing heavily and hadn´t realised that she had taken a step forward and was jabbing her finger at Morgan accusingly. She cleared her throat self-consciously as she noticed Morgan´s mouth curling slightly at the corners. But there was nothing bombastic or sarastic about the humour it suggested. He seemed genuinely amused by her tirade!
´Please, Ms Vernon, don´t mince your words,´ he said, unable to suppress a small laugh.
He fell into silence again after a few seconds and held her in his gaze. Despite herself, Meredith was unable to separate her eyes from his.....
´So I suppose dinner is out of the question?´ he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
´With you?´
Meredith had been unable to stop herself. God, she thought. The very idea!
Morgan moved and took a step forward of his own so that they were only inches apart. She could smell the subtle fragrance of aftershave and hated herself for the way his presence was causing her heart to race!
´Well, do you see anyone else in here right now?´ he asked softly.
´God, you are so full of yourself,´ she croaked, looking up into his face and not understanding why her loathing was melting away like ice before the sun. His eyes locked onto hers again so that she felt as though she was being hypnotized, drawn into their magnetic lure....
The first kiss was gentle. Soft, warm lips teasing her own ever so lightly. She closed her eyes tightly, resolving to resist the temptation to....
Hungrily she responded, with an unexpected force and passion. Morgan stumbled back against the elevator wall as she ate ravenously into the kiss. He pushed the coat from her shoulders and she felt his hands slip to her waist where they began to work upwards, undoing the long line of buttons that secured her blouse. As his fingers arrived at the last of them, Meredith shifted her body impatiently, shrugging off the loose blouse so that it fell in a heap to the lift floor.
Reaching behind her back, he unclasped her bra, which surrendered her breasts to his grasp. She caught her breath, first as his fingers fastened firmly over them, then again as he lowered his head and raised them to his mouth in turn. Her heart racing madly, she bit on her lip, thrilling to the tingle like electricity which his soft lips were generating as he drew on each hardening nipple.
She was trembling like a leaf when he finally lifted his head, silencing her quick breaths with another deep, lingering kiss as he pushed her back now against the opposite wall. His hand instinctively reached for the zip to her skirt and in seconds it was sliding down Meredith´s smooth thighs. Her hands sought the belt of his trousers in turn, and she swallowed in amazement at the obvious effect her body was having on him as she reached inside....
And then, slowly and deliberately, he took her!
Her mouth fastened onto his as he slipped into her with a groan and settled his body into a rhythm that disconnected Meredith´s mind completely from everything apart from this moment! The world could have ended, but nothing would have intruded upon the bliss with which each movement of Morgan´s hips was enveloping her whole body! His hands sought her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them with the kind of reverence one might have reserved for some holy relic, leading Meredith ever closer to that point of inevitability, where she would be thrust completely into mindless abandon!
She reached it sooner rather than later! Grasping Morgan´s shoulders, she cried out and threw back her head to surrender her throat to his kisses! The climax struck her like a tidal wave, crashing over her whole body and leaving her gasping for hair and soaked in sweat....
And then he came too, lured into his release by the bucking of her own body against his. Moaning softly into her neck, he thrust deeper, and Meredith held onto him as he emptied his desire completely into her before slumping , spent, into her arms just seconds later.
´So is that a yes?´ he mumbled breathlessly.
´Sorry?´ Meredith asked, still trying to steady her own breathing.
Morgan lifted his head and smiled. ´Dinner,´ he reminded her. ´Only I know this great little Mexican number not too far away. Or....´
His eyes sparkled suggestively and Meredith smiled back. ´Or...?´ she asked, widening her large green eyes in mock innocence.
He kissed her again slowly. ´Or we could just skip straight to the dessert,´ he whispered softly as he pulled out of the caress, and Meredith laughed.
´I´ve heard it´s the only way to eat dinner, she replied. She pursed her lips. ´Just one condition.´
Morgan sighed and nodded. ´I know, I know,´ he conceded. ´Tell your friend that she can start first thing Monday morning.´
Platform 13
Vivienne shivered. She didn't believe for one moment that the station was actually haunted, but at two in the morning it was easy for the mind to play tricks.
Once again she felt an inexplicable draught on the back of her neck and she whirled round in slight panic, only to find the platform lying deserted under the sallow electric light.
"There are no such things as ghosts," she whispered mantra-like to herself. "There are no such things as ghosts."
Despite working for a leading magazine devoted to the investigation of all things paranormal, Vivienne had seen nothing in her past five years as a feature writer to convince her that there was anything remotely objective beyond the physical world. Photographs of ghosts, stories of alien abduction, and the claims of mediums to be able to talk to the dead -- as far as Vivienne was concerned it was all just a load of horse-shit!
Still, it made good copy and kept the magazine subscriptions rolling in. And while that happened, it meant that she could carry on paying the bills. Even horse-shit was good for the roses!
But there was just something about this place that was affecting her like nothing she had ever experienced before. She shook her head to clear it. Probably just too much coffee. She really needed to get a grip.
Flipping open her notebook, she read through the jottings she had already made about the small, now abandoned subway station, and the main points from her interviews with several witnesses to unexplained events that had supposedly occurred down here. A small faded photograph slipped from between the leaves, and she caught it before it could flutter to the floor.
Captain Charles 'Chuck' Robinson of the United States Airforce. At least twenty people had told her that they had seen him down here in the musty, oversized rabbit hole.And ordinarily, Vivienne would have believed them -- were it not for the fact that the dashing airforce officer had been dead for more than sixty years!
What some people would believe, she thought cynically. Just because they had heard a few things go bump in the night and knew that subway station sat directly beneath a former airbase. Talk about putting two and two together and making five!
She studied the photograph. Old Chuck had certainly been a looker in his day, she had to admit! Dark-haired and clean-shaven, he stared back at her from beneath his cap through eyes that could have lured a mother superior into bed! The smile into which his perfectly proportioned lips were formed seemed to reach across time to her to suggest an impossible intimacy.
God, if she had only been born several decades earlier!
She felt suddenly lightheaded. Damn coffee, she thought again, although it didn't feel like the effects of a caffeine overdose. Once more she felt the draught on her neck, but this time it was warm and slightly moist, and she could have sworn that she heard a breath. And this time she did not flinch, even when it continued to caress her skin.
Her eyes were still fixed on the photograph when she felt the hands slipping smoothly around her waist....
The old subway lights flickered. She should have been panicking! Screaming the place down in a wild fit of hysteria! But the sensation was anything but terrifying.The hands slid all the way round her midriff, gliding effortlessly over her cotton blouse.
And then, very slowly, they began to move higher....
The lights shimmered again, and Vivienne unconsciously held her breath as the pressure around her waist shifted upwards. She felt fingertips pause fractionally at the curve of her breasts, before they curled round her fastened themselves firmly over the full tits. The gentle pressure she felt drew the air from her lips as a long and protracted sigh.
She heard a crackle of electricity and the lights went out completely, plunging the platform into an impentrable darkness. At the same time, a tingling sensation like static washed over her whole body and turned her sigh into a loud gasp.
"Oh God," she managed to murmur as she was turned slowly round, one hand unbuttoning her blouse before continuing to fondle her bare breasts in turn; the other hand invisibly drawing up her tight-fitting pencil skirt....
The presence that loomed over her was irresistibly masculine! At once determined but gentle.Warm breath stroked her throat, her cheek; then lips brushed hers for a fleeting instant that left her yearning for more!
"Please!" she whispered, craning her neck to seek out the lips which had tantilized her own so sweetly! She reached out, her hands making contact with a tight muscular body within a fitted jacket over which she slid the flats of her hands. They drifted to the shoulders of the figure, clawing at the lapels she found there as her body was pressed against the cold subway wall and her legs were pushed gently open....
Vivienne thought that she would surely pass out, the penetration was so slow and delicious! She tore at the lapels, heard a button rattle as it skittered across the platform. The breath was hot against her face now, and Vivienne silently screamed for the absent lips she had tasted moments before as her body trembled to the rhythmic thrusting deep into her soaking pussy.
She caught her breath, beginning to sweat, her long dark hair sticking to her damp shoulders where her blouse had been pushed away. She clutched at the figure which pressed itself against her so firmly, and yet without any air of menace, pulling at it so desperately as if she could fully merge herself with her unseen lover. Each movement of the huge cock she could feel between her legs made her head whirl, caused her breath to become more and more ragged, and fanned the flames of an approaching orgasmic inferno that she was convinced would just consume her completely!
And then like some uncontrollable backdraft, the climax struck!
Had it not been for the body pressed to hers, she would have collapsed she knew! Her legs promised to buckle, their strength sapped by the burning pleasure exploding out from between her thighs and scorching every nerve! Every thrust, every surge of the unseen hips pounding into her left her fighting for breath until tears squeezed from between her closed eyelids as she almost sobbed with pleasure.
No man had ever fucked her like this!
The loud flapping of wings intruded on her reverie and burst it like a pin popping a balloon! Her eyes snapped open to see a scruffy pigeon descend from the corroded girders overhead and settle on the dirty platform where it pecked vainly at the brittle concrete. Still breathing hard, Vivienne stared down at the photograph she still held in her hands, and she patted at her clothes which were all still securely zipped and buttoned. Her confused mind struggled to make sense of what had just happened!
She couldn't stop shaking; it had all seemed so incredibly real!
She cast a glance at the deserted platform still bathed in sickly yellow light. Not a sound disturbed the silence. She was definitely alone.
God! she thought. She had been in this business for too long!
And then she saw it. The glint on the edge of her vision drew her gaze to the ground just a few feet away. Trembling, she stooped to pick up the shiny object.
It was a button, inscribed with the words....
"United States Airforce," she mouthed in disbelief.
Once again she felt an inexplicable draught on the back of her neck and she whirled round in slight panic, only to find the platform lying deserted under the sallow electric light.
"There are no such things as ghosts," she whispered mantra-like to herself. "There are no such things as ghosts."
Despite working for a leading magazine devoted to the investigation of all things paranormal, Vivienne had seen nothing in her past five years as a feature writer to convince her that there was anything remotely objective beyond the physical world. Photographs of ghosts, stories of alien abduction, and the claims of mediums to be able to talk to the dead -- as far as Vivienne was concerned it was all just a load of horse-shit!
Still, it made good copy and kept the magazine subscriptions rolling in. And while that happened, it meant that she could carry on paying the bills. Even horse-shit was good for the roses!
But there was just something about this place that was affecting her like nothing she had ever experienced before. She shook her head to clear it. Probably just too much coffee. She really needed to get a grip.
Flipping open her notebook, she read through the jottings she had already made about the small, now abandoned subway station, and the main points from her interviews with several witnesses to unexplained events that had supposedly occurred down here. A small faded photograph slipped from between the leaves, and she caught it before it could flutter to the floor.
Captain Charles 'Chuck' Robinson of the United States Airforce. At least twenty people had told her that they had seen him down here in the musty, oversized rabbit hole.And ordinarily, Vivienne would have believed them -- were it not for the fact that the dashing airforce officer had been dead for more than sixty years!
What some people would believe, she thought cynically. Just because they had heard a few things go bump in the night and knew that subway station sat directly beneath a former airbase. Talk about putting two and two together and making five!
She studied the photograph. Old Chuck had certainly been a looker in his day, she had to admit! Dark-haired and clean-shaven, he stared back at her from beneath his cap through eyes that could have lured a mother superior into bed! The smile into which his perfectly proportioned lips were formed seemed to reach across time to her to suggest an impossible intimacy.
God, if she had only been born several decades earlier!
She felt suddenly lightheaded. Damn coffee, she thought again, although it didn't feel like the effects of a caffeine overdose. Once more she felt the draught on her neck, but this time it was warm and slightly moist, and she could have sworn that she heard a breath. And this time she did not flinch, even when it continued to caress her skin.
Her eyes were still fixed on the photograph when she felt the hands slipping smoothly around her waist....
The old subway lights flickered. She should have been panicking! Screaming the place down in a wild fit of hysteria! But the sensation was anything but terrifying.The hands slid all the way round her midriff, gliding effortlessly over her cotton blouse.
And then, very slowly, they began to move higher....
The lights shimmered again, and Vivienne unconsciously held her breath as the pressure around her waist shifted upwards. She felt fingertips pause fractionally at the curve of her breasts, before they curled round her fastened themselves firmly over the full tits. The gentle pressure she felt drew the air from her lips as a long and protracted sigh.
She heard a crackle of electricity and the lights went out completely, plunging the platform into an impentrable darkness. At the same time, a tingling sensation like static washed over her whole body and turned her sigh into a loud gasp.
"Oh God," she managed to murmur as she was turned slowly round, one hand unbuttoning her blouse before continuing to fondle her bare breasts in turn; the other hand invisibly drawing up her tight-fitting pencil skirt....
The presence that loomed over her was irresistibly masculine! At once determined but gentle.Warm breath stroked her throat, her cheek; then lips brushed hers for a fleeting instant that left her yearning for more!
"Please!" she whispered, craning her neck to seek out the lips which had tantilized her own so sweetly! She reached out, her hands making contact with a tight muscular body within a fitted jacket over which she slid the flats of her hands. They drifted to the shoulders of the figure, clawing at the lapels she found there as her body was pressed against the cold subway wall and her legs were pushed gently open....
Vivienne thought that she would surely pass out, the penetration was so slow and delicious! She tore at the lapels, heard a button rattle as it skittered across the platform. The breath was hot against her face now, and Vivienne silently screamed for the absent lips she had tasted moments before as her body trembled to the rhythmic thrusting deep into her soaking pussy.
She caught her breath, beginning to sweat, her long dark hair sticking to her damp shoulders where her blouse had been pushed away. She clutched at the figure which pressed itself against her so firmly, and yet without any air of menace, pulling at it so desperately as if she could fully merge herself with her unseen lover. Each movement of the huge cock she could feel between her legs made her head whirl, caused her breath to become more and more ragged, and fanned the flames of an approaching orgasmic inferno that she was convinced would just consume her completely!
And then like some uncontrollable backdraft, the climax struck!
Had it not been for the body pressed to hers, she would have collapsed she knew! Her legs promised to buckle, their strength sapped by the burning pleasure exploding out from between her thighs and scorching every nerve! Every thrust, every surge of the unseen hips pounding into her left her fighting for breath until tears squeezed from between her closed eyelids as she almost sobbed with pleasure.
No man had ever fucked her like this!
The loud flapping of wings intruded on her reverie and burst it like a pin popping a balloon! Her eyes snapped open to see a scruffy pigeon descend from the corroded girders overhead and settle on the dirty platform where it pecked vainly at the brittle concrete. Still breathing hard, Vivienne stared down at the photograph she still held in her hands, and she patted at her clothes which were all still securely zipped and buttoned. Her confused mind struggled to make sense of what had just happened!
She couldn't stop shaking; it had all seemed so incredibly real!
She cast a glance at the deserted platform still bathed in sickly yellow light. Not a sound disturbed the silence. She was definitely alone.
God! she thought. She had been in this business for too long!
And then she saw it. The glint on the edge of her vision drew her gaze to the ground just a few feet away. Trembling, she stooped to pick up the shiny object.
It was a button, inscribed with the words....
"United States Airforce," she mouthed in disbelief.
Autoerotica
Melody McIntyre edged the gas pedal of her sleek bullet-silver convertible closer to the floor, and shook out long hair as red as the sand and rock of the surrounding wilderness. She whooped with exhilaration, thrilling to the feel of the hot desert wind whipping back her shiny tresses, and the way it caressed her face and slipped inside her clothing like the uninhibited fingers of a lover.
The car growled with pleasure as Melody curled her slender fingers around the gleaming head of the gear shift and stroked it into place. The shaft throbbed in her hand, the potency of the engine building, the growl intensifying to a roar as Melody seduced the Lexus into a raw, several-thousand-rev orgasm. One-hundred-and-fifty miles an hour on a straight road -- a strip of superheated tarmac bisecting a thousand square miles of Martian-red Arizona desert.
"Fucking crazy bitch!" Jenna laughed from the back. "Did you see the look on that cop's face?"
"Priceless!" Serena giggled beside her, and Melody flashed a grin at the both of them through the rearview mirror before throwing back her head and whooping again.
They were three days into the inaugural event of the Speed Demon 3000 illegal road race, and making great time in spite of the legions of traffic cops mobilised to police the interstate highways. Little did the police realise just how much they were a part of the thrill! After all, nothing quite compared to the andrenalin rush of running a roadblock, and then leaving the hapless law enforcers far behind with only the taste of burnt rubber in their mouths.
Melody shook her head, incredulous. If the cops wanted to intercept a hundred-strong field of high performance sports cars, you'd think they'd make sure they at least had the horsepower to try and play catch up!
"I think we can safely say we lost him," she announced, checking her mirrors again for any sign of the motorcycle cop and seeing nothing but a watery shimmer of midday heat. Which was a bit of a shame, she admitted to herself. Cop or not, he'd been a damned sexy one! And with a noticeable bulge straining at the inside of his tight-fitting pants, unless she'd mistaken his .44 Magnum for something else!
"In that case, can we please stop?" Serena pleaded. "Only I'm dying for a pee."
"Already?"
"It's all the excitement," Serena began to explain, but Jenna snorted sceptically as she hooked her dark, Katie Holmes-style bob behind an ear.
"More like psychological incontinence," she teased. "Just because you know there isn't a decent bathroom for the next hundred miles!"
Their petite, pixie-like friend pouted and thumped Jenna's arm good-naturedly as Melody laughed and swung off the deserted highway, crunching over sand and rock for fifty yards, where she gunned the engine for a second or two before turning it off. The silence folded in. Blissful, unadulterated quietude.
Serena scrambled out of the back seat and made for a patch of scrub surrounding a tall finger of rock that cast its own shadow like a gnomon.
"Back in a minute!" she called.
Melody and Jenna exchanged amused glances. "So make that ten, then!" they both laughed. Serena's sensitive bladder was legendary!
To kill the time, Melody switched on the CB radio and scanned the channels that might warn them the cops were nearby. But there was none. Only a hiss of background static spoiled the silence.
"Seems like we're alone," she murmured.
"Good!"
Melody jumped at Jenna's loud whisper right next to her ear, and she swivelled sharply in her seat.
"For God's sake!" she protested amiably, but the quick kiss on her lips muted her token complaint.
"And what was that for?" she asked with a smile as she removed her shades.
Jenna shrugged and smiled back. "Because you're gorgeous and I felt like it," she replied. "And because Kyle is a lying bastard."
Melody sighed. "And I guess I'm supposed to be flattered to be your revenge in high heels."
"Not to mention your simply amazing thirty-eight double-D accessories"
Melody shook her head. Just as legendary as Serena's waterworks was the volatile relationship enjoyed by Jenna and her longterm boyfriend, Kyle. Inseparable one day, fighting like cat and dog the next. The soap opera had gone on for as long as Melody cared to remember. The most recent verbal punch-up had been provoked by Jenna's increasing conviction that Kyle had been fucking a girl at the mall where he worked as head of security.
"Look, Jen," she tried to reason with her friend for what must have been the thousandth time. "You've no real proof that Kyle's done anything."
"Oh, no?" Jenna answered in disbelief. "Then what about the condoms in his pocket? We're supposed to be trying for a baby, remember? Then there's the text messages, the perfume on his clothes that I wouldn't wear even if the only other option were to reek like a skunk, the -- "
"Okay, okay, enough already!" Melody cried, holding up her hands. "So Kyle is a lying bastard. What you gonna do about it?"
"Well," Jenna purred, leaning forward again, "where was I?"
"Jenna," Melody began to protest as her friend kissed her again. But as Jenna's lips fastened firmly over her own, she found that she had neither the ability nor the inclination to object.
Well, what the hell! she thought submissively.
Unable to resist her increasing arousal, Melody climbed over the seats to join Jenna in the back. She had to admit to herself that she secretly loved it whenever Jenna and Kyle fell out! She was always happy to give Jenna this kind of solace!
As she lay back in the seat, Jenna's hands did all the talking. Her slender fingers stroked upwards over Melody's bare thighs to the edge of her denim shorts, moving higher to lazily traverse the silky material of her white short-sleeved blouse. Melody sighed deeply into their passionate kiss as Jenna halted at her left breast and gently squeezed.
"Oh, God," she whispered before Jenna's hungry lips silenced her once more. Meanwhile, Melody felt Jenna's fingers slowly negotiating the buttons of her blouse. The garment parted like the Red Sea to gradually reveal more and more of the giddying plunge of Melody's seen-to-be-believed cleavage. The blouse fell open at last to expose the ample swell of her breasts to the touch of the blazing Arizona sun. Jenna pushed the blouse back from Melody's creamy shoulders and with a soft murmer of appreciation, reverently cupped one of the naked mounds and lowered her head to suckle on the erect nipple.
Breathing her encouragement, Melody stroked Jenna's hair, thrilling to the electrifying sensation of the moist lips and tongue eagerly drawing on her breast. Her desire gauge was climbing in leaps and bounds, like a thermometer plunged into a lava pool! Her shimmering green eyes fluttered closed in response. When she opened them again a few seconds later, she saw that Serena had returned and was staring down at her from beside the car, gaping in astonishment. But Melody could not miss the hint of yearning in her incredulous expression. Clutching Jenna's head to her breast with one hand, she held out her other towards Serena in a wordless invitation.
"Melody," Serena breathed. "Oh, Melody."
She half reached out, but as the dazzling sunlight glinted on the ring on her finger, she hesitated.
"Oh, Mel," she said ruefully, evidently torn. "I want to. God knows, I really do." She waved her hand slightly.
"But Tony...."
The engagement. Of course. Tony and Serena were made for each other, everybody said so. And Serena was intensely loyal....
Melody's body bucked almost involuntarily as Jenna's probing fingers homed in on the centre of her moist thighs. She had not felt Jenna unfasten her shorts, or pull down the zip and her touch summoned a loud moan from Melody's lips and she clutced at her other breast as she arched slightly on the hot leather seat.
Turned on to distraction, Melody reached round to undo the tie of Jenna's saffron-coloured bikini top which fell away from her own voluptuous breasts, their full curves garnished with glistening beads of sweat, some of which trickled down into her cleavage and flowed south towards her silver navel piercing. As she caressed
Melody's pussy, Jenna shifted slightly to allow Melody's lips to close over her own rock hard nipples, to savour each erect bud in turn.
Melody felt a touch on her shoulder. Not Jenna's. The caress was more tentative, gentler. As her body shuddered to the sensation which Jenna's fingers were generating, Melody glanced to see Serena next to her. She managed to smile before her beautiful features contorted to a sudden wave of pleasure which only made her look even more gorgeous.
"Couldn't resist?" she asked huskily, and Serena shook her head a little, her blue eyes wide with admiration.
"You are just so beautiful," shesaid softly, her fingers cupping Melody's breast. "These --" She broke off, unable to express her wonder in words. "And Jenna's."
"Glad to hear I'm not invisible!" Jenna retorted wryly, raising her head, her own grey eyes misty with the passion of the moment. Her gaze lingered on Serena's tight-fitting t-shirt. "Why don't you take that thing off?"
"Yeah, Serena," Melody urged, admiring her friend's flawless curves. "Remind us just how beautiful you are."
She looked as though she might hesitate again, but Melody noticed that the yearning in Serena's eyes had intensified. Without another word, she hooked her fingertips under the hem of her t-shirt and peeled it upwards. Her petite yet stunningly curvaceous figure emerged, like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
Jenna gaped. "Mel is so right you know," she complimented her. "Tony is one lucky son of a bitch!"
Melody nodded silent agreement, drinking in the sight of Serena's naked body. The hourglass curve of her hips, and the perfect breasts. Smaller than her own and Jenna's, but exquisitely formed. Two flawless peaks of satin flesh, half-hidden by her tumbling blonde hair, and crowned with dusky pink nipples standing proudly now to attention.
"Serena," Melody whispered, half-dumbstruck by the vision, deciding that she must have died and gone to heaven! She slipped her arm around Serena's smooth waist and drew her in to make the threesome complete. Her moist lips sought out Serena's and trailed a line of gentle kisses from there to her throat. Nuzzling more caresses into Serena's neck, she only pulled back as Jenna's fingers slipped fully inside her. The sudden penetration caused her to gasp and buck again, and she entwined her fingers in her long red hair as a slight flush tinged her breasts.
"Fuck me!" she pleaded hoarsely. "Fuck me hard!"
Jenna's fingers thrust rapidly into her. Serena stifled Melody's cry of pleasure with a kiss, thrusting her tongue confidently into her sweet velvet mouth so that a trickle of warm saliva bubbled between their parted lips and ran back over Melody's cheek. And all the time, Serena fondled Melody's tits, squeezing to the rhythm of Jenna's expert fingers.
"Make me come!" Melody gasped, her heart pounding with the promise of an impending orgasmic cataclysm. "Fuck me!"
She almost wept as she went into meltdown. A long, lingering groan gave voice to the all-consuming pleasure building between her legs before it billowed out like an unstoppable tidal surge to swamp each and every inch of her sweat-drenched body. Serena offered her one of her pert little breasts, and Melody ravenously devoured the nipple, clenching it so hard between her teeth that Serena moaned at the slight discomfort. Melody only released the sore nipple as her climax waned, leaving her spent and breathing hard as Jenna leaned across to kiss her tenderly.
"I can never believe how wet you get," she purred.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," Melody smiled breathlessly.
"I sincerely hope that's a promise."
"You bet!"
The silence of the desert was suddenly broken by the crackle of the radio.
"Alpha five-oh-four, receiving. Possible sighting of suspects on Highway Nineteen. In pursuit, over...."
"Shit! Guys, we gotta fly!"
Melody leapt up, pulling on her blouse and scrambling over into the front seat. Somewhere, not too far away, she could hear the distinctive wail of a siren.
"Guys?" she repeated, looking in her rearview mirror in time to see Jenna burying her face deep between Serena's thighs.
"Okay," she said slowly, amused as Serena moaned loudly. She gunned the engine and rammed home the gear shift, kicking up a spray of red dust as she roared back on to the highway. "But you'd better hold on back there."
You little minx, Serena, she thought as she pulled on her shades and floored the gas pedal. So much for poor old Tony....
The car growled with pleasure as Melody curled her slender fingers around the gleaming head of the gear shift and stroked it into place. The shaft throbbed in her hand, the potency of the engine building, the growl intensifying to a roar as Melody seduced the Lexus into a raw, several-thousand-rev orgasm. One-hundred-and-fifty miles an hour on a straight road -- a strip of superheated tarmac bisecting a thousand square miles of Martian-red Arizona desert.
"Fucking crazy bitch!" Jenna laughed from the back. "Did you see the look on that cop's face?"
"Priceless!" Serena giggled beside her, and Melody flashed a grin at the both of them through the rearview mirror before throwing back her head and whooping again.
They were three days into the inaugural event of the Speed Demon 3000 illegal road race, and making great time in spite of the legions of traffic cops mobilised to police the interstate highways. Little did the police realise just how much they were a part of the thrill! After all, nothing quite compared to the andrenalin rush of running a roadblock, and then leaving the hapless law enforcers far behind with only the taste of burnt rubber in their mouths.
Melody shook her head, incredulous. If the cops wanted to intercept a hundred-strong field of high performance sports cars, you'd think they'd make sure they at least had the horsepower to try and play catch up!
"I think we can safely say we lost him," she announced, checking her mirrors again for any sign of the motorcycle cop and seeing nothing but a watery shimmer of midday heat. Which was a bit of a shame, she admitted to herself. Cop or not, he'd been a damned sexy one! And with a noticeable bulge straining at the inside of his tight-fitting pants, unless she'd mistaken his .44 Magnum for something else!
"In that case, can we please stop?" Serena pleaded. "Only I'm dying for a pee."
"Already?"
"It's all the excitement," Serena began to explain, but Jenna snorted sceptically as she hooked her dark, Katie Holmes-style bob behind an ear.
"More like psychological incontinence," she teased. "Just because you know there isn't a decent bathroom for the next hundred miles!"
Their petite, pixie-like friend pouted and thumped Jenna's arm good-naturedly as Melody laughed and swung off the deserted highway, crunching over sand and rock for fifty yards, where she gunned the engine for a second or two before turning it off. The silence folded in. Blissful, unadulterated quietude.
Serena scrambled out of the back seat and made for a patch of scrub surrounding a tall finger of rock that cast its own shadow like a gnomon.
"Back in a minute!" she called.
Melody and Jenna exchanged amused glances. "So make that ten, then!" they both laughed. Serena's sensitive bladder was legendary!
To kill the time, Melody switched on the CB radio and scanned the channels that might warn them the cops were nearby. But there was none. Only a hiss of background static spoiled the silence.
"Seems like we're alone," she murmured.
"Good!"
Melody jumped at Jenna's loud whisper right next to her ear, and she swivelled sharply in her seat.
"For God's sake!" she protested amiably, but the quick kiss on her lips muted her token complaint.
"And what was that for?" she asked with a smile as she removed her shades.
Jenna shrugged and smiled back. "Because you're gorgeous and I felt like it," she replied. "And because Kyle is a lying bastard."
Melody sighed. "And I guess I'm supposed to be flattered to be your revenge in high heels."
"Not to mention your simply amazing thirty-eight double-D accessories"
Melody shook her head. Just as legendary as Serena's waterworks was the volatile relationship enjoyed by Jenna and her longterm boyfriend, Kyle. Inseparable one day, fighting like cat and dog the next. The soap opera had gone on for as long as Melody cared to remember. The most recent verbal punch-up had been provoked by Jenna's increasing conviction that Kyle had been fucking a girl at the mall where he worked as head of security.
"Look, Jen," she tried to reason with her friend for what must have been the thousandth time. "You've no real proof that Kyle's done anything."
"Oh, no?" Jenna answered in disbelief. "Then what about the condoms in his pocket? We're supposed to be trying for a baby, remember? Then there's the text messages, the perfume on his clothes that I wouldn't wear even if the only other option were to reek like a skunk, the -- "
"Okay, okay, enough already!" Melody cried, holding up her hands. "So Kyle is a lying bastard. What you gonna do about it?"
"Well," Jenna purred, leaning forward again, "where was I?"
"Jenna," Melody began to protest as her friend kissed her again. But as Jenna's lips fastened firmly over her own, she found that she had neither the ability nor the inclination to object.
Well, what the hell! she thought submissively.
Unable to resist her increasing arousal, Melody climbed over the seats to join Jenna in the back. She had to admit to herself that she secretly loved it whenever Jenna and Kyle fell out! She was always happy to give Jenna this kind of solace!
As she lay back in the seat, Jenna's hands did all the talking. Her slender fingers stroked upwards over Melody's bare thighs to the edge of her denim shorts, moving higher to lazily traverse the silky material of her white short-sleeved blouse. Melody sighed deeply into their passionate kiss as Jenna halted at her left breast and gently squeezed.
"Oh, God," she whispered before Jenna's hungry lips silenced her once more. Meanwhile, Melody felt Jenna's fingers slowly negotiating the buttons of her blouse. The garment parted like the Red Sea to gradually reveal more and more of the giddying plunge of Melody's seen-to-be-believed cleavage. The blouse fell open at last to expose the ample swell of her breasts to the touch of the blazing Arizona sun. Jenna pushed the blouse back from Melody's creamy shoulders and with a soft murmer of appreciation, reverently cupped one of the naked mounds and lowered her head to suckle on the erect nipple.
Breathing her encouragement, Melody stroked Jenna's hair, thrilling to the electrifying sensation of the moist lips and tongue eagerly drawing on her breast. Her desire gauge was climbing in leaps and bounds, like a thermometer plunged into a lava pool! Her shimmering green eyes fluttered closed in response. When she opened them again a few seconds later, she saw that Serena had returned and was staring down at her from beside the car, gaping in astonishment. But Melody could not miss the hint of yearning in her incredulous expression. Clutching Jenna's head to her breast with one hand, she held out her other towards Serena in a wordless invitation.
"Melody," Serena breathed. "Oh, Melody."
She half reached out, but as the dazzling sunlight glinted on the ring on her finger, she hesitated.
"Oh, Mel," she said ruefully, evidently torn. "I want to. God knows, I really do." She waved her hand slightly.
"But Tony...."
The engagement. Of course. Tony and Serena were made for each other, everybody said so. And Serena was intensely loyal....
Melody's body bucked almost involuntarily as Jenna's probing fingers homed in on the centre of her moist thighs. She had not felt Jenna unfasten her shorts, or pull down the zip and her touch summoned a loud moan from Melody's lips and she clutced at her other breast as she arched slightly on the hot leather seat.
Turned on to distraction, Melody reached round to undo the tie of Jenna's saffron-coloured bikini top which fell away from her own voluptuous breasts, their full curves garnished with glistening beads of sweat, some of which trickled down into her cleavage and flowed south towards her silver navel piercing. As she caressed
Melody's pussy, Jenna shifted slightly to allow Melody's lips to close over her own rock hard nipples, to savour each erect bud in turn.
Melody felt a touch on her shoulder. Not Jenna's. The caress was more tentative, gentler. As her body shuddered to the sensation which Jenna's fingers were generating, Melody glanced to see Serena next to her. She managed to smile before her beautiful features contorted to a sudden wave of pleasure which only made her look even more gorgeous.
"Couldn't resist?" she asked huskily, and Serena shook her head a little, her blue eyes wide with admiration.
"You are just so beautiful," shesaid softly, her fingers cupping Melody's breast. "These --" She broke off, unable to express her wonder in words. "And Jenna's."
"Glad to hear I'm not invisible!" Jenna retorted wryly, raising her head, her own grey eyes misty with the passion of the moment. Her gaze lingered on Serena's tight-fitting t-shirt. "Why don't you take that thing off?"
"Yeah, Serena," Melody urged, admiring her friend's flawless curves. "Remind us just how beautiful you are."
She looked as though she might hesitate again, but Melody noticed that the yearning in Serena's eyes had intensified. Without another word, she hooked her fingertips under the hem of her t-shirt and peeled it upwards. Her petite yet stunningly curvaceous figure emerged, like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
Jenna gaped. "Mel is so right you know," she complimented her. "Tony is one lucky son of a bitch!"
Melody nodded silent agreement, drinking in the sight of Serena's naked body. The hourglass curve of her hips, and the perfect breasts. Smaller than her own and Jenna's, but exquisitely formed. Two flawless peaks of satin flesh, half-hidden by her tumbling blonde hair, and crowned with dusky pink nipples standing proudly now to attention.
"Serena," Melody whispered, half-dumbstruck by the vision, deciding that she must have died and gone to heaven! She slipped her arm around Serena's smooth waist and drew her in to make the threesome complete. Her moist lips sought out Serena's and trailed a line of gentle kisses from there to her throat. Nuzzling more caresses into Serena's neck, she only pulled back as Jenna's fingers slipped fully inside her. The sudden penetration caused her to gasp and buck again, and she entwined her fingers in her long red hair as a slight flush tinged her breasts.
"Fuck me!" she pleaded hoarsely. "Fuck me hard!"
Jenna's fingers thrust rapidly into her. Serena stifled Melody's cry of pleasure with a kiss, thrusting her tongue confidently into her sweet velvet mouth so that a trickle of warm saliva bubbled between their parted lips and ran back over Melody's cheek. And all the time, Serena fondled Melody's tits, squeezing to the rhythm of Jenna's expert fingers.
"Make me come!" Melody gasped, her heart pounding with the promise of an impending orgasmic cataclysm. "Fuck me!"
She almost wept as she went into meltdown. A long, lingering groan gave voice to the all-consuming pleasure building between her legs before it billowed out like an unstoppable tidal surge to swamp each and every inch of her sweat-drenched body. Serena offered her one of her pert little breasts, and Melody ravenously devoured the nipple, clenching it so hard between her teeth that Serena moaned at the slight discomfort. Melody only released the sore nipple as her climax waned, leaving her spent and breathing hard as Jenna leaned across to kiss her tenderly.
"I can never believe how wet you get," she purred.
"You ain't seen nothing yet," Melody smiled breathlessly.
"I sincerely hope that's a promise."
"You bet!"
The silence of the desert was suddenly broken by the crackle of the radio.
"Alpha five-oh-four, receiving. Possible sighting of suspects on Highway Nineteen. In pursuit, over...."
"Shit! Guys, we gotta fly!"
Melody leapt up, pulling on her blouse and scrambling over into the front seat. Somewhere, not too far away, she could hear the distinctive wail of a siren.
"Guys?" she repeated, looking in her rearview mirror in time to see Jenna burying her face deep between Serena's thighs.
"Okay," she said slowly, amused as Serena moaned loudly. She gunned the engine and rammed home the gear shift, kicking up a spray of red dust as she roared back on to the highway. "But you'd better hold on back there."
You little minx, Serena, she thought as she pulled on her shades and floored the gas pedal. So much for poor old Tony....
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