Stephanie's Castle

by Susanna Hughes

  STEPHANIE'S CASTLE

  by

  SUSANNA HUGHES

  Stephanie's Castle first published in 1992 by Nexus. Published as an eBook in 2012 by Chimera eBooks.

  ePub ISBN 9781780801841

  mobi ISBN 9781780801858

  www.chimerabooks.co.uk

  Chimera (ki-mir'a, ki-) a creation of the imagination, a wild fantasy.

  New authors are always welcome, or if you're already a published author and have existing work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to you, we would love to hear from you.

  This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex.

  This work is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The author asserts that all characters depicted in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older, and that all characters and situations are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright Susanna Hughes. The right of Susanna Hughes to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Chapter One

  Stephanie answered the phone with reluctance. Another minute and she would have been across the office and on her way home. She was tired. It had been a long day collating the latest market research on a new product range and she was desperate to get home, have a long bath and an early night. But her sense of conscientiousness would not allow her to walk away leaving the phone to ring.

  'Stephanie Curtis?' The voice was cool, precise and very feminine. It was not a voice Stephanie recognised.

  'Yes?'

  'I'm Mr Devlin's driver. I have the car outside. He wondered if you might like a lift home.'

  Stephanie's mind was racing. Devlin! She hadn't seen or heard from him for three months. She couldn't say she'd forgotten him - Devlin was not a man forgotten easily - but this message came out of the blue. Any misgivings she might have had were overcome immediately by the thought of not having to fight her way home on the tube.

  'That would be very nice.'

  'I'm parked outside. You'll recognise the car, won't you?'

  She headed across the open-plan office too wrapped up in her own thoughts to acknowledge the goodnights of the two girls who remained. Stephanie had always attracted a lot of attention with the men in the office. Her long black hair, brandy eyes, fleshy mouth and her trim waist, complementing her firm breasts and long, lithe legs, made her an obvious target for male lust and fantasy. It was no surprise, then, when Dennis Andrews, a founder member of the lust brigade, leered at her in the lift all the way down the six floors to the foyer.

  'Out on the raze tonight then, is it?' he drawled.

  'No, Dennis. An early night.'

  'I bet. Tucked up in bed...' He tried to make tuck sound like fuck.

  'Give it a rest, Dennis.'

  'You know I'll do anything you say, Stephanie. Given half a chance.'

  'Don't tempt me.' Meaning she'd like to tell him to jump into a very large vat of boiling oil.

  'Why not? You tempt me.'

  Dennis held the main entrance door open for her. Parked outside the building on double yellow lines was a large Mercedes coupé so clean and highly polished that the building was perfectly reflected in every panel of the car. Standing by the passenger door was a tall, slim woman wearing a black suit and white blouse. The skirt of the suit was short and revealed most of her long, shapely legs. She wore black high heels, as shiny as the car, which accentuated her pinched ankles. Her blouse was tight, more like a leotard, and clearly revealed the outline of her large breasts, flattened slightly by the material. The suit was clearly meant to be a uniform, but a very expensive one.

  As Stephanie walked towards the car, and the driver opened the passenger door for her, she could see it was empty. She had expected Devlin to be there, sitting in the car waiting for her. His absence made the invitation even more mysterious.

  Dennis Andrews followed in Stephanie's wake, his mouth wide open. 'Goodnight then,' he said, perhaps hoping for a lift.

  Stephanie got in without replying. The driver closed the passenger door behind her and looked at Dennis.

  'Goodnight, sir,' she said, turning to walk around to the driver's door. Dennis's mouth remained open as the car pulled effortlessly into the traffic.

  'The office bore,' Stephanie explained.

  'There's always one.' The woman drove precisely, with the minimum of effort. Stephanie remembered the way the car felt, silent, with not the slightest vibration - instantly soothing despite the snarling traffic outside. 'My name's Venetia.' She had obviously been given Stephanie's address, as she appeared not to be waiting for directions.

  Stephanie relaxed into the big leather seat of the car, determined to appear cool. She watched Venetia drive. The skirt of the uniform had ridden up to display all of her thighs. She was wearing black tights, very sheer and shiny, and Stephanie could see her muscles flex in her right leg as it dabbed on the brake pedal or darted to the accelerator. The left leg remained passive. They were magnificent legs and Stephanie had to admit that Venetia had the body and the face to match.

  'How long have you been working for Mr Devlin?'

  'A year.'

  'Where is he?'

  'I'm not sure. He phoned and asked me to give you this.' Venetia reached over to the glove compartment and flicked it open. The light inside revealed a thick white envelope attached to a stem of orchids. Stephanie took the orchids out. They were a wonderful combination of yellow and white with a slash of crimson.

  'They're beautiful.'

  'Home grown.'

  'Really?'

  'Not by Devlin. But his gardener's very keen.'

  'Must have a big greenhouse.'

  'No, they're flown in.' She volunteered no further information and Stephanie didn't ask.

  The envelope was not sealed. Inside it was a handwritten note. 'I've been thinking about you, my dear. A lot. Please accept this invitation. Devlin.' Stephanie searched the envelope but there was nothing else with the card.

  'Is that it?'

  'No. The rest is in the boot.'

  'What rest?'

  'You'll see.' Venetia said it with a smile, her tongue darting between her lips. There was clearly no point in enquiring further.

  The rest of the journey was spent in silence. The car was so quiet Stephanie could hear the rasp of nylon against nylon as Venetia moved her legs to drive the car. Stephanie rested her head on the head restraint of the seat and closed her eyes. She remembered the night with Devlin, his huge ugly features, his banana-sized fingers, his cock, gnarled and veined, so big she had not been able to fit it all into her cunt. A shiver of pleasure ran through her body as she thought of him and that night and what he had done to her. She opened her eyes and looked at Venetia. What was her relationship with her employer? She could not believe, looking at her as she drove, that it did not involve sex.

  She directed Venetia to her front door. The power-steering made the parking easy. Before Stephanie realised what was happening Venetia was out of the car and opening the passenger door. It gave her a strange feeling to be waited on like this but it was not a feeling she disliked.

  Venetia opened the boot of the car. Inside was a large leather suitcase. Stephanie recognised it from an advert in Harper's - Louis Vuitton, sculpted leather.

  'I'll take it up for you.' It was not a question. Venetia took the case out of the boot and followed Stephanie to her front door. T
he case was obviously heavy but she carried it without apparent effort even up the flight of stairs to Stephanie's first-floor flat.

  'Now you can open it.' Inside she lay the case on Stephanie's dining table and handed her the keys in a little suede pouch. She was obviously acting under strict instructions.

  Stephanie did not want to appear over anxious. 'Would you like a drink?'

  'Yes, some wine would be nice,' Venetia said without hesitating, almost as though this were part of the instructions, too.

  'Red or white? The white is better.'

  'White then. May I sit down?'

  'Of course.'

  Stephanie went into the kitchen. Fortunately she always kept a bottle of Chablis in the fridge. She opened it absent-mindedly, wondering what on earth Devlin had planned for her.

  She handed Venetia the glass and took a sip from her own. Then she unlocked the suitcase. Venetia did not look up as Stephanie flipped the lid back. She knew what was inside or so it appeared.

  The case was full of clothes. On top two swimsuits, one a practical two-piece, the other a glamorous creation of spangles and lurex that could never be exposed to water. There were two silk evening dresses, cut to reveal more than they covered, a day dress of fine cotton, three pairs of shoes, and a mass of underwear, suspender belts, matching French knickers, bikini briefs, soft and underwired bras. Three sets in all, all silk; all in the most perfect taste - classy and elegant - and all, Stephanie knew, expensive. Everything in the case was by a top designer, everything the right size, everything the right style for her.

  'Did you choose these?'

  'No, Devlin always chooses.' Venetia's response begged the question. She dropped the 'Mister'. And what did she mean by 'always'? He did this all the time?

  'I can't accept this.'

  As she said it she saw a map tucked into one of the satin pockets of the case. It was a map of Italy with a thick felt-penned circle around Lake Trasimeno.

  'Devlin wanted to make sure you have everything you need. It's hot there at this time of the year.' Under the circle was scrawled in the same handwriting as the note in the car: 'Friday at six till Monday at nine.'

  'I'm to pick you up at the office.'

  'To go to Italy for the weekend?' Stephanie knew she had not managed to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

  'In Devlin's plane. We'll be there by nine, traffic control permitting.'

  'I need another drink.' What Stephanie actually needed was time to think. She went into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Venetia said nothing and remained sitting passively on the sofa.

  Stephanie knew Devlin was rich but she had no idea he had this sort of wealth. Private planes, suitcases full of clothes that probably cost as much as she earned in a year; leggy chauffeurs. She knew Devlin had wanted her sexually but she had not imagined she had made this kind of an impact on him. Or perhaps she hadn't. Perhaps this was just a regular event in his life, a rich man's game. Some men collected cars, or antique furniture: Devlin collected women. Had them delivered to him on a metaphorical plate.

  As this thought occurred to her Stephanie knew it did not matter. She didn't mind if she was one of ten, one of a hundred. She felt flattered, she felt special, and that was quite enough for her. She also had to admit that sexually the thought of Devlin was exciting.

  She walked back into the living room. 'I accept,' she said simply, looking into Venetia's eyes for any reaction.

  'Good,' she said without the slightest flicker of interest. 'Have you been to this lake?'

  'Yes.'

  'Sounds exotic.'

  'It's a castle. Used to belong to one of the Italian noble families. It even has its own vineyard. Devlin's done a lot of work on it. It's very comfortable. Very secluded.' Suddenly Venetia smiled. 'Very thrilling.'

  Of course it was thrilling to be flown to a castle on a lake in Italy but Stephanie knew at once that was not what Venetia meant. The word 'thrilling' seemed to hang in the air between them. She looked again at Venetia sitting back on the sofa, calm and confident, her legs crossed. Venetia met her eyes and for a long moment they looked at each other. Venetia slowly and deliberately uncrossed her legs. Stephanie watched as she did so. The black skirt covered nothing and Stephanie was sure she could see through the sheer nylon, under the seam that ran up between her legs, a thatch of pubic hair. Venetia parted her legs slightly as if to give Stephanie a better view.

  'Devlin was right. You are a beautiful woman,' Venetia said, making no effort to recross her legs.

  'So are you.' Stephanie could feel her heart racing, her breathing getting shallow. Venetia knew where her eyes were fixed, knew it and liked it. Months before Stephanie had had sex with a woman for the first time. It had brought her to new heights of sexual awareness but, strangely perhaps, she had not repeated the experience since then, nor had she wanted to. Until now.

  'Do you mind if I take off my jacket?' Venetia said as if reading Stephanie's mind. She stood up and peeled off the black jacket of her suit. Her white blouse was cut to reveal her arms and shoulders and in profile Stephanie could see the sides of her breasts straining to escape the tight garment. Without asking or hesitating Venetia pulled the blouse over her head. She stood in front of Stephanie, feet apart, her large breasts still quivering with the movement, a challenge in her eyes.

  Stephanie stood up and touched Venetia's cheek with the back of her hand. She was wearing a shirt-waister dress buttoned down the front and Venetia responded to the touch by undoing the three buttons of the dress above the waist. She slipped her hand inside the dress, found the top of Stephanie's bra and moved her hand until her fingers rested on Stephanie's nipple. She squeezed it quite hard and Stephanie moaned. In a moment Stephanie knew Venetia was going to kiss her, kiss her full on the mouth and embrace her. The idea made Stephanie flush with excitement.

  Venetia had unbuttoned the dress completely now and eased it off Stephanie's shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Stephanie made no attempt to stop it. She stood in bra, knickers and tights, her underwear practical white cotton.

  'Where's the bedroom?'

  Stephanie nodded towards the bedroom door. Venetia picked up her blouse and jacket and walked through the door, shutting it after her.

  Stephanie looked at the table, the suitcase and all the clothes strewn around. Almost without thinking she stripped off her cotton underwear and tights. In the case she had seen a dark blue teddy in the finest silk. She stepped into it and pulled it up over her body. The crotch-piece was unbuttoned and she bent to do it up. As she found the poppers her fingers touched against the lips of her cunt.

  She could feel her heat. She dipped a finger between the lips and was not at all surprised to find a thick wetness there.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror, transformed now by the expensive teddy. Cut high on the hips, low on the breasts, it clung to her body, making her look somehow more naked than nakedness itself. She remembered the last time she had been with a woman. Though the circumstances were very different, the excitement she felt was the same. Last time Martin had been there. Now, as she walked into the bedroom, she was on her own.

  Venetia was naked lying on the bedsheet, the counterpane stripped back. Up until now her fair hair had been tightly held in the chignon at the back of her head. Now it was free, long and flowing, looking blonder than it had before. Her pubic hair was blonde too, but very sparse, and her labia were clearly exposed as she lay, legs sprawled open.

  Stephanie sat on the side of the bed. Immediately Venetia pulled her down; falling on top of her like a hungry wolf eager to eat its prey. Her tongue pushed into Stephanie's mouth while her hand groped for her breast under the blue silk. Stephanie responded, kissing Venetia back hard, squirming against her mouth as she sent her hand first to find Venetia's breast, then moved it down to her cunt. Her fingers ran through the wispy pubic hair to find Venetia's hard clitoris. Venetia moaned as Stephanie's finger found the target and pushed and pulled on the delicate knob of
flesh, but she did not break away from the kiss. Instead she drove her tongue deeper into Stephanie's mouth, while her hand pinched at the erect nipple under the teddy.

  Stephanie had found a rhythm now. She pressed Venetia's clitoris hard against the pubic bone; then pulled it upwards, then down again. She loved the feeling of touching clitoris and cunt, of feeling a soft yielding body pressed next to her own. Venetia's grip on her nipple relaxed and she broke away from the kiss, hugging Stephanie instead as she concentrated on her own passion. Stephanie worked harder, faster as she felt Venetia's body contract around her, felt all her muscles and nerve centre on that little knot of feeling which she was manipulating. Venetia was moaning continuously now, almost forming words ('Do it, do it, do it') until finally her whole body arched up from the bed and she screamed as her orgasm crashed through her body.

  Venetia did not wait for her orgasm to subside. Her hand went down between Stephanie's legs, clawing at the poppers of the teddy. She tore them free but did not wait while Stephanie started to pull the garment off; instead she plunged her head down into the thick black hair of Stephanie's crotch and found her clitoris with her hot tongue. As soon as she was free of the teddy Stephanie lay back on the bed again feeling Venetia's tongue probing her cunt. It left her clitoris and licked all the way down to her arse. For a second it flicked the rosebud of her arse, pushing for admittance, before moving up to her cunt and inserting itself there, as far in as it would go. Then back to the clitoris again, licking it hard, licking it like an ice cream. Back down again, down to her arse, this time getting into it a fraction, then cunt, then clitoris again, the complete cycle. It was driving Stephanie wild. She had never had a man do this to her.

  Venetia was kneeling beside her and Stephanie opened her eyes to watch this beautiful woman's body as it worked on her. Her long hair bobbed and weaved as her head moved, her long legs tucked under her, the roundness of her buttocks curving into the long arch of her strong slim back.