“My manners, ladies, so sorry, anyone for champers?”
He poured two glasses without waiting for their reply. Helen, too scared to speak after Josie had shouted at her, nodded furiously, Jeff handed her a glass.
“Cheers… err…Venus,” clinking his glass to hers. “I hope you enjoy our little show, dear, feel free to touch yourself while you watch, it’s most enjoyable for me to see, so don’t be shy.”
Fat chance of that, thought Josie, she could see this going pear shaped. She’d better hump the guy quickly and get out of there, before Helen started to take over again and then they would be there all night. She let her mink slink seductively off her shoulders to the floor, revealing her little black dress, stockinged legs, and ridiculously high stilettos.
“Now, Jeff, let’s get down to it, baby, I’m one horny bitch right now, I need what you have to offer me,” she leaned against the wall that faced the bed, legs apart.
“… and I know what you have, big boy, I can see you’re pleased to see us.”
She immediately had all his attention; he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her, sipping on his champagne, grinning, he loved his monthly Josephine sessions. She held his gaze sexily and started to brazenly feel her body in time to the music. Her hands started at her neck and rubbed down slowly over her breasts, taking time to tweak and circle her nipples, then down over her waist and on to run the length of her thighs.
“You like what you see, Jeff? Is this what you want?”
Her hands lifted the hem of her dress and revealed her black lacy stocking tops.
“Have you missed me?”
She rebalanced her body on tottering stilettos, spreading her legs further apart, increasing the slut effect. His eyes widened; he took a quick intake of breath.
“Oh yes!” he groaned.
One hand pulled the dress up to her waist, exposing tiny black panties; the other rubbed herself through the material. Backward and forward, dragging the small triangle of silk with her fingers, playing peek-a-boo with the pink soft lips below. She held his gaze as she reached beneath the silk and eased her finger up inside. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she let out a low moan, barely audible. Her breathing built as she teased in and out, enjoying her touch.
“Just making myself wet for you, baby,” she moaned, sliding two fingers inside.
Jeff was chomping at the bit, he could barely contain himself, he was so eager to get at her, but he knew that wasn’t allowed, he had to sit and wait.
Helen was gob-smacked; this was her mate sliding up and down the wall like some sort of sex siren. Boy, she was good, no wonder she could charge so much, Jeff was dribbling. She’d just turned the act on like flicking a switch; she was incredible. Helen had an urge to giggle; it sounded so funny hearing her friend talk posh and dirty, but she didn’t think Josie or Jeff would appreciate it.
Josie gave Helen a sideways ‘get on with it, girl’ look, in between groans…. oh gawd, thought Helen, forgetting she was there for a purpose… better get started.
Hesitantly, she started to copy Josie, following her hands over her body through her nightdress, it seemed like a good place to start… mmmm, this is nice. Watching Josie was getting her a little warm; she’d never seen a girl up close like this before, after the initial embarrassment it was horny to watch, there was a buzzing energy in the room.
She found herself looking at Josie as Josephine, not as her best mate. As a sexy stranger with a great body and beautiful face. She wanted to reach out and touch her… ohmigod… this is weird.
“Look at Venus, Jeff, she’s beginning to get excited… do you think she will enjoy this… watching you, Jeff, watching you fuck me… watching you go right up deep inside me, right to the top… oooh, I’m soooo ready now, so wet…”
Josie brought her finger up to her mouth and licked it seductively with her tongue. Smearing the juice around her lips, she smiled at Jeff, explaining. “It’s an aphrodisiac, Jeff… now, come and kiss me.”
This did something to Helen, a little squeal came from the corner, she couldn’t help herself. They both looked over at her; she was a sight. She’d slid down in the chair, almost falling off the edge, legs akimbo, her nightdress dragged up to her waist showing she was wearing nothing underneath. Her hair over her face, her breathing laboured, and her fingers busy between her legs.
…oops! peaking a little early , thought Josie, but Jeff was loving it; it was more than the wife ever did. Maybe she should visit her mum more often.
“Change of plan, Josephine… get Venus to kiss you, she’s very turned on by you, baby… get her to strip you, then you can come and fuck me.”
This was not the plan, Josie weighed up the situation quickly ... ok, a quick kiss, a quick strip, hump him, and outta here, that wasn’t so bad, and Venus, err… Helen, did look good like that. She was a little turned on herself, which was nice for a change; she may actually enjoy this job.
She looked over at Helen for a sign as to whether she was willing. She whispered gently, “Venus, you want to kiss me?” she said it so softly they had to strain to hear her. “You want to taste me?”
Helen stopped in her tracks, legs still akimbo, hands fell still… ohmigod.
She hadn’t expected to play a larger part in the game; she hadn’t expected to get turned on watching Josie either. The truth began to dawn on her, fuck, why hadn’t she seen it before? It may be an act for Josie, but she wanted to touch her, wanted it badly. This was no longer a game; if she crossed the room now, she was crossing a line, putting her hand in the fire, risking a friendship. Josie was beautiful; sexy as hell and the greatest friend she had ever had, this could blow it. She’d been so bored with men, and Josie had been under her nose all the bloody time. Josie was what she wanted… fuck!
“Venus, I’m getting lonely over here, come and kiss me, you know you want to, and I taste soooo good. Mmmmm… I know you want to.”
Josie teased Helen, squeezing her tits provocatively through the little black dress. She pulled the straps down over her shoulders, releasing them into view, pushing the dress down to bunch at her waist. She cupped them up in her hands and offered them to Helen.
The excitement in the air was tangible, Jeff couldn’t believe his luck. These two were something else, Josephine the temptress and Venus the little virgin, not being able to make up her mind whether to jump or not. He was getting so hard he would burst any minute, they were good actresses - little did he know.
Finally making her mind up, Helen stood, stepped out of her nightdress, and kicked off her shoes. She stood brazen, naked, and calmly drank her champagne, in no hurry, enjoying their eyes on her, their baited breathe.
She slowly walked around Jeff to the champagne bucket on the dressing table, as she passed, she let her hand intimately trail the length of his thigh, she refilled her glass. Turning to Josie, hand on hip, she stood in front of her and scanned the length of her beautiful body, taking her time, the tip of the champagne glass resting on her bottom lip, as she contemplated how best to devour her victim.
Josie began to feel uneasy; things had gone too far; it was only a game, but her friend looked serious. Jeff was cataclysmic with excitement. Helen was blocking his view so he jumped from the bed to the dressing table, leaning against it, getting a better look at what he was paying for, up nice and close. The air was tight.
Helen filled her mouth with champagne and passed the glass to Jeff. Josie backed up against the wall, maybe she should stop this.
Helen put her hands up and cupped Josie’s neck and head, pulling her face to hers. She pressed her mouth against Josie’s and kissed her, transferring the champagne slowly from one mouth to the other, letting it trickle from lips, down chins and onto chests.
“Yeah, girls, lovely jubbly,” Jeff’s cock was now in his hand, this was a big fucking turn-on.
The heady taste of pussy juice and champagne sent the girls wild. Something let loose, something clicked between them, they couldn’t stop. They
ate each other, smothering each other in kisses, penetrating tongues, biting mouths, greedy hands, soft caresses, rough clawing, delving fingers; they couldn’t get enough.
Jeff was well and truly forgotten. He didn’t mind, he came three times watching them… the wife would love this.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Burp burp… Her phone bleeped the frog sound that meant she had a text message.
Bloody hell, if it’s the office chasing her again she would scream. She’d been sitting at her computer putting together a draft report for the new spin idea; she hoped it would save the day.
She would email it to the bosses for initial approval and then meet with them. Picking up the phone, she punched through to retrieve the text message. It was from Seb.
‘need to meet asap re sporjakk 7pm at…’
It gave an address she recognized as around the corner from her flat.
Great, she had wanted to pass the new ideas by him. Looking at her watch, she’d an hour to finish it and then see him, perfect.
She picked up speed and rushed through the final edits. Good old Josie; this just may save the day, she loved her, hooker or not.
The document complete, she attached it to an email addressed to Pete Wells, and copied it in to Seb.
‘I have put together some ideas to help with the Sporjakk problem, see attached report. I am truly sorry to have caused this furore, but with the right spin it may be salvageable.
Call to meet up.
Tara.’
By now Pete would have left the office, but at least he would get it first thing in the morning. Pressing ‘Send’, she said a little prayer. Remembering Seb, she texted him a reply:
‘ok, am on my way, Tx’
She pulled a comb through her hair and touched up her lipstick, grabbed her keys, phone, and ran out of the flat.
Following her curiosity, before leaving the building, she slipped upstairs to the next floor, to see if anything was happening at the pervert’s flat; she saw that the police had cordoned it off, with yellow tape across the door frame.
Oh well, at least that meant that no one was in there. She hadn’t heard from the police since she and Franco had given statements, she wondered what they were doing about it, if anything.
“Now, which number Brompton Court Road was it? 448A. Strange Seb should not just pop around here, I’m only round the corner… boys are so bloody lazy. At breakneck speed, she rushed out the main door, and down the steps, too fast for the sleepy paparazzi photographers to snap her, and off down the street, wishing she’d worn a coat; it was colder than she’d expected. Luckily Seb was only two minutes away.
Shivering with cold, she finally found the house number. Guessing that 448A would be the basement apartment, she went there first… yep correct. Knocking on the door, she felt a little unsure, what the hell was Seb doing in a grimy place like this?
The door sprung open, making her jump. A tall, dark-haired, stunningly good looking man stood in front of her, beaming.
“Hi, you must be Tara, Seb said you were popping over, do come in.”
He seemed familiar; did she know him from somewhere? No, she would have remembered, he was so handsome. Was he famous? Probably one of Seb’s model friends, he was cute!
“Yes, that’s right, thank you.”
Beaming back at him, she walked in. She felt a shiver go down her spine, someone walking over her grave again.
“Seb has just popped out; he’ll be here in a min, told me to look after you until he got back. What’s your tipple, a glass of wine do you? Have just opened a nice bottle of Chateau Petrus’96,” he chattered on as she followed him into the stunningly beautiful apartment.
“Yes, that would be perfect, I could certainly do with a drink, it’s been a long day… what a lovely place you have, did you do this yourself?… sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t… but it’s David,” turning, he looked closely at her face, for a trace of recognition. “David,” he repeated, but there was none.
He felt angry; how dare she forget me? The bitch, she had no idea who he was, and yet she took up his every thought, every minute of his night and day. He lived his life through her, around her, because of her and she couldn’t give a toss. He would make her pay.
“Take a seat, Tara, I’ll get you a drink… on the sofa, make yourself at home,” he waved her over to the sofa, where he’d straddled the lovely Seb an hour before. He could still hear Seb’s cries of pleasure.
“Now, take a shower, you dirty boy, before you’re late for your little drinks party, Sebastian…,” he’d teased, giving Seb’s ass a final slap.
“Ouch, that hurt, you bastard; you sure you won’t come, David? You never know, you may like it, bunch of celebs will be there.”
“Nah, not my scene, bunch of boring posers,” David scoffed.
“We could stand at the opposite ends of the room and pretend we don’t know each other, if you’re worried about others seeing us together. Then we could rendezvous in the Gents for a quick one, go on, you’d like it.”
But David was having none of it; he had better things to do. While Seb was in the shower, he used Seb’s phone to text Tara. The Devil was setting his trap; it was his time to have her. He was feeling horny again, already.
“You do have some lovely art, David,” commented Tara politely, bringing him back to reality.
“Yes, I collect beautiful things, Tara, you are very beautiful, you know… how long have you known Seb?” quickly changing the subject before she could reply to his obvious flirtation.
“Err, oh, years, from school, I guess, we work together; he’s a great photographer… do you know him well?” Tara couldn’t place him, she was sure she knew him from somewhere, why was he familiar?
“Oh yes, very well,” teasingly.
“How do you know him, are you in the business too?” Tara asked, making polite conversation, where the bloody hell was Seb? She glanced at her watch.
“Oh, we just fuck the ass off each other, a couple of days a week.”
David walked over to the sofa and passed one of the two glasses of wine he was holding to Tara. It took her a couple of seconds to grasp what he’d just said, she was concentrating hard on taking the rather full glass of wine from him, without spilling it on the beautiful cream sofa.
“Pardon?” … I didn’t quite hear him right, obviously… God, I’ve got sex on the brain these days.
“Sorry, what did you say?” she asked again.
“Seb and I fuck each other, we’re lovers, and jolly good he is at it too, I might say,” David plonked down on the sofa opposite her, the coffee table separating them.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” … typical bloody English, always apologizing, she could hear Franco say.
“I didn’t know he was… um… you know,” she stuttered.
“A faggot?” David helped.
“Err, no… um… just, that way inclined, you know.”
Jesus, this was embarrassing…. thanks Seb, let me know, why don’t you; I don’t give a monkey’s what you are, but don’t let me find out from a stranger, you little shit, gonna kill you when I see you, where the hell are you?
She shifted uneasily on the sofa, David was suffocating her with his staring eyes, she felt under the microscope… let’s change the subject.
“No, I’m happy for him. As long as he is happy, that’s all I want. Have you lived here long, David? It’s quite a nice area, isn’t it? I live just around the corner, you know, wouldn’t live anywhere else, everything on my doorstep. What do you do for a living?”
She was beginning to ramble nervously.
“Oh, a bit of this and that, my hobby is photography, film. That’s how I know Seb. Would you like to see some of my work? Finish your wine and I’ll show you my portfolio.”
He was back into charming host mode. She felt more comfortable, talking about Seb taking it up the ass was not what she’d expected. God, poor old Helen, Seb didn’t want her, he wan
ted a bloke, bet she doesn’t know.
This revelation would be good for her; all those years of pining after him had destroyed her confidence. She was not an unattractive, unwanted failure; she’d just been trying to have sex with a gay. No wonder the BJ’s and stockings didn’t work, all he wanted was a wiener and boxer shorts. She couldn’t wait to tell the girls.
She watched David as he reached for the bottle. Helen was right; all the best-looking ones were gay. What a secretive little dog Seb was, she would never have guessed. He had good taste, this guy was uber sexy, drop-dead gorgeous; bet they had fun. Why was he familiar, where had she seen him before?
Ignoring her protestations, David topped up her glass. She wanted to be sober when discussing the Sporjakk job with Seb. Where the hell was he?
“Now come through to my studio, I call it my den. Let me show you my portfolio, it’s a bit amateurish, nowhere near as good as Seb, but I enjoy it, it keeps me out of trouble,” he chattered, as light-heartedly as he could muster, keeping the excitement out of his voice.
She was here, in his home, alone, his. Her penance was oh so near completion, after all this time.
“Oh, why don’t you bring the book out here? We can look at it on the coffee table,” she didn’t want to go to any ‘den’ in a strange apartment with anyone, not even this handsome stranger.
He could barely keep his voice from shaking.
“Actually, the portfolio is not a book; it’s more a work of art, covering a wall. Can’t bring the wall to you, I’m afraid. It will give us something to do while we wait for Seb. He should be here soon. It’s ok, I’m not going to ravish you, darling, if that’s what you’re worried about, you don’t have the appendage I look for in a lover, you’re safe,” he laughed teasingly.
She suddenly felt stupid, of course she was safe, he was gay. He was just being a good host, killing time while waiting for Seb. What the hell was she thinking, over paranoid or what, not everyone was out to get her.
They laughed together, as he led her along the corridor to the den.
The Penance List Page 27