Deborah's Discovery

by Fredrica Alleyn

  ‘Not time for bed yet, is it?’ asked Martin Craig. ‘Celia’s never ready to sleep before one in the morning.’

  ‘No, but she’s always ready for bed!’ laughed Paul Woolcott.

  ‘Martin says I’ve already worn him out for the day,’ said Celia sulkily. ‘He obviously needs this holiday to build up his strength. You work him too hard, Pavin.’

  Pavin, who was absent-mindedly stroking Deborah’s bare breasts, looked across at the small Welsh girl with her short dark hair and thickly lashed coal-black eyes. ‘Perhaps I do, but even if he’s tired I’m sure someone else can keep you amused. Paul? Brian? How about it?’

  Flora, who was watching her boss with this blonde-haired English girl, who seemed likely to prove a threat to her own ambitions to become Mrs John Pavin the third unless she managed to do something about it, looked annoyed. ‘Brian and I were going for a swim before we turned in.’

  Brian stood up and stretched. He was rather like a leopard; Deborah thought to herself. There was so much coiled energy there, just waiting for a chance to unleash itself and also more than a hint of danger about him.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Brian said lightly. ‘Why don’t Flora and Celia play the water game? I’ll spend the night with the winner.’

  ‘Yes, let’s do that!’ said Tansy excitedly. ‘I love that game. We can all take part, can’t we?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Pavin. ‘It will be an experience for Deborah just to watch. You can play another time, honey,’ he added in an undertone.

  ‘I’m not sure I’ll want to,’ she retorted, pulling away from him and slipping into her dress. ‘I thought we were going to bed now?’

  ‘After the game, Debbie. You’ll be even more in the mood by then.’

  She didn’t think she needed anything to put her in the mood for Pavin’s lovemaking since she’d been looking forward to it all evening, but the others were leaving the room and when Pavin caught hold of her hand she decided to go along with him.

  ‘Is Brian really going to make love to either Flora or Celia tonight?’ she asked as they made their way to the guest bedrooms in the south-west tower.

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘But what about Elizabeth?’

  Pavin sighed. ‘Debbie, I told you before you came here, we’re all one big happy family on this island. Everyone’s free to do as they please just for these two weeks. We take sensible precautions, there’s no risk of disease, so where’s the harm?’

  ‘You mean none of the women here mind sharing their husbands?’

  ‘Why should they? They get plenty of attention from all the men themselves, no one gets short-changed.’

  ‘Well I’m not having anyone but you make love to me,’ Deborah replied fiercely.

  Pavin laughed. ‘You are a funny girl! In a few days you’ll be singing a completely different tune.’

  ‘I won’t! I came here to be with you, not …’

  ‘You are with me,’ he said irritably. ‘Now just be quiet, honey. If you don’t approach things like this in a receptive frame of mind then you might as well not bother to come along.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave you,’ she said softly.

  ‘Fine, then we can watch together. I promise you it’s a very stimulating game, for onlookers as well as participants.’

  The staircase in the south-west tower was made up of flights of wide stone steps round a central pillar of solid masonry, and the brick walls were cold to the touch.

  ‘Which room?’ asked Celia.

  ‘I think ours would be best. It’s got two beds in it for a start,’ said Paul.

  ‘They’ve got the Chinese room, you’ll like it,’ Pavin assured Deborah as they climbed to the third floor. Deborah wasn’t bothered about the room, only what was going to happen once they were inside it.

  In many ways Paul and Tansy had a more comfortable room than Pavin and Deborah. Certainly it was in a more modern style, with oriental rugs on the polished floor, heavy patterned wallpaper depicting oriental birds and trees, while Chinese cabinets and lacquered tables all held Chinese vases and basins.

  At the far end of the room two beds, both slightly larger than a normal single, were set on blocks of wood and covered with white bedspreads that were fringed with the same pattern as the wallpaper. All the paintwork was white and the general impression was of lightness and colour.

  ‘What happens now?’ whispered Deborah.

  ‘Just sit with me and you’ll see,’ murmured Pavin, lowering himself into the largest chair in the room and pulling Deborah onto his lap. Flora and Celia were busy slipping off their clothes, stripping until they were entirely nude. Then they walked, without any apparent self-consciousness, to the two beds and stood waiting at the foot of them.

  Deborah thought that Flora had slightly the better figure. Her breasts were small but firm and the nipples an unusually light pink while the surrounding areolae were smaller than on most women and again light in colour. Her waist was tiny and her hips attractively rounded.

  Celia was far slimmer. Her breasts were tiny, but the nipples and areolae were larger than Flora’s and darker in colour. She too had a small waist, but she was also slim round the hips, giving an almost boyish impression except for her well-rounded buttocks.

  Richard Ford, who Deborah remembered was Pavin’s PA, came into the room carrying two pieces of black leather that looked like mini-skirts and two shallow glass bowls. Celia and Flora took the leather garments from him and began to ease them up over their legs.

  The women pulled them up until the top edge rested about an inch below their breasts, which meant that the hem was just touching the beginning of their pubic hair. The leather was tight, and as they both lay down on the beds the effect of the garments was to make them look more exposed than when they were entirely naked because now it was their breasts, genitals and legs that were on show, emphasised by the absence of any sight of their lower chest and abdomen.

  Once they were lying flat on their backs, the black leather garments clinging tightly to every curve and flattening their abdomens, Brian and Paul each took one of the shallow glass bowls from Richard and placed them on the women’s stomachs.

  ‘What are they doing?’ whispered Deborah, her hand clutching the top of Pavin’s arm.

  ‘The bowls are filled with water,’ he explained patiently. ‘The idea is that both the women are stimulated in exactly the same way, at the same time but obviously by two different men, and they have to keep as still as possible because as soon as the water level in one of the bowls drops below a line that’s marked round the rim the game’s over and the winner is the one who spilt the least water.’

  Deborah remembered the way her own stomach would arch and ripple during sexual arousal and she wondered how on earth it would be possible to learn the kind of control Pavin was describing. ‘Watch closely,’ he added. ‘You might like to take part one day.’

  Deborah didn’t think that very likely, but she found that she was leaning forward on Pavin’s lap in order to get an unrestricted view as the game began.

  First of all, Tansy handed each of the men a jar of lotion and everyone in the room watched eagerly as the men moved to the sides of the two beds and looked down on the waiting women. ‘It’s the heat jelly,’ Brian told Flora, who gave a tiny cry. Even that made the water in the bowl move, and as though she realised the danger, Celia said nothing despite the fact that Paul was standing by her with the same cream.

  Pavin nodded at the two men. ‘Right, you may begin!’

  Slowly they started to rub the cream into the two women’s breasts. Flora had only ever had it used on her once before and had found it highly stimulating. It smelt of fresh mangoes and when Brian’s fingers began to work it in to her breast tissue it seemed pleasant and not over-arousing, but she knew that its secret lay in the fact that the more his fingers touched it the warmer it grew. If it was blown on, then a tingling deep heat would spread right through the tissue that it was covering.

  Brian, h
is sharp face a study in concentration, moved his fingers around the outside of Flora’s breasts and then up to the more delicate areolae until finally he was massaging it into her nipples and she could feel the warmth suffusing them. Almost without thinking she pushed her breasts upwards in a voluptuous stretching movement that immediately had the water in the glass bowl slopping dangerously near the top. She strained to keep her body still, forcing down the tight ripples of excitement that were threatening to invade her body.

  Pavin and the rest of the group watched Flora’s efforts in excited silence. Her breasts were always highly sensitive, and they could guess at the difficulty she must be experiencing. She bit on her bottom lip to try and distract herself from the pleasure, and attempted to keep her abdominal muscles rigid when Brian lowered his head and blew softly on the already warm breasts.

  He blew lightly but steadily and now the heat was coursing through the blue veins of her breasts, and darts of excitement shot downwards through her constrained belly to below the hem of the rubber garment so that her outer labia started to spread backwards of their own accord in the beginning of sexual arousal.

  Celia was struggling too. Her breasts weren’t as sensitive as Flora’s, but Paul had a lighter touch than Brian and he also left her nipples free of the lotion for longer than Brian did so that the nipples felt cold compared with the warm breast tissue. This contrast made Celia’s nipples stand proudly erect which meant that when he did finally massage the lotion directly on to them they were highly aroused and her stomach jerked involuntarily when the heat started to make itself felt.

  That one small jerk meant that a single drop of water spilt onto the constricting leather garment, and although the failure line was still a long way off she gritted her teeth in concentration, determined that it would be she and not Flora who had Brian in her bed that night.

  Leaving the lotion on the women’s breasts, the men finally turned their attention to below the hem of the leather. First they each called forward one of the women, Tansy to help Brian and Elizabeth for Paul, and they carefully spread the prone women’s legs further apart, making sure that they didn’t disturb the liquid in the bowl as they did so. Once the legs were spread more widely, the two assistants held the competing women’s outer labia apart which meant that the men had easier access for their attentions.

  Deborah could feel a tightness in the pit of her stomach and her own breasts seemed almost as swollen as those she could see on the beds in front of her. She was becoming incredibly stimulated by what she was watching, and knew that she was shamingly damp between her thighs. When Pavin squeezed the top of her leg she almost jumped out of her skin at the physical contact, so aroused was her flesh.

  ‘You like watching then?’ he asked quietly. She refused to answer, but knew that her body had already told him the truth. ‘I said it would be exciting,’ he reminded her and then fell silent as Brian and Paul began to lightly caress the inside of the women’s thighs.

  Paul’s fingers skimmed up Celia’s thighs and into the joins at the top of her legs. There they played with the soft folds of skin, pulling them to the side a little so that the hood of the clitoris moved and stimulated the bud beneath. Brian chose to press the heel of his hand firmly against the opening of Flora’s vagina, leaving his fingers free to roam along her moist inner channels in a tantalising dance that skimmed the paper-thin membranes and caused her to lubricate even more from her vagina. Carefully he took some of her moisture and then spread it up the inner channels until Flora felt as though she was just a mass of melting, damp flesh with leaping nerve ends that were sending frantic messages of arousal up through her entire vulva and even higher until they travelled beneath the increasingly tight leather garment that was now painfully restrictive.

  Both of the women began to breathe through their open mouths, hoping to slow down their body’s responses and keep their climax from engulfing them. When Brian unexpectedly turned his hand palm upwards and then slid his middle finger inside Flora so that he could beat a tattoo on her G spot she was unable to stop the tearing wave of pleasure that forced its way beneath the leather and now it was her turn to spill some of the water.

  Tansy and Elizabeth, who were standing by the competitors’ hips and facing towards the men, were as flushed as Flora and Celia. They both longed to reach down and touch the other women themselves, touch them close to the stem of the clitoris and precipitate the orgasms that would end the competition, but they knew better.

  By this time both the women on the beds were beginning to struggle desperately against the sensations caused by all their swelling flesh. The leather garments, initially merely a close fit, seemed wickedly constraining as their stomachs swelled with passion and their breasts were becoming mottled with the flush of arousal.

  Now Richard handed each of the men a long brown object made of latex. It was a vibrator that could twist and rotate within the vaginal walls, while at the base, situated just above the handle which the men were grasping, was a ball covered in tiny probes with padded ends that would further excite the flesh around the clitoris.

  Both Flora and Celia gasped aloud as the probes were slid into their vaginas, already lubricated with their own excitement, and then when the twisting vibrations began the women bore down as hard as they could in order to prevent the contractions from affecting the balance of the shallow bowls.

  Their muscular control was incredible and Deborah watched with wide eyes and a rising excitement that made her long to run from the room with Pavin to their huge Elizabethan bed so that he could give her the satisfaction these women were striving to hold at bay. Her breasts were so tight with desire they hurt, and when Pavin cupped one in a large hand she strained against his fingers and rubbed the nipple against the palm of his hand through the silk material of her dress. Her excitement delighted him.

  In the meantime the women on the bed were suddenly given a moment’s respite as the probes were withdrawn, but it was only brief because then their skilled tormentors dropped to their knees and began to use their tongues, flicking, licking and skimming the entire vulva of both women so that their parted legs started to tremble and Flora began to groan with the sensations.

  ‘No! No!’ she moaned, as Brian’s tongue circled her throbbing bud making it stand up even more proudly. ‘I can’t bear it, I can’t!’

  Celia could hear Flora, but she was suffering just as much because Paul was using his tongue like a penis and thrusting it quickly in and out of her vagina while at the same time pressing lightly on her pubic bone to force the clitoral hood downwards over the highly sensitive tip of her bud. Now she too began to cry out. ‘Stop! Not there, Paul! Please, not there!’

  With both women crying out, their breasts still covered in the warm lotion which was never allowed to cool completely because Tansy and Elizabeth would occasionally massage it carefully into the skin again, and their entire sex mounds constantly stimulated, the air of sexual tension in the room was electric.

  Quite a lot of water had now spilt from both bowls, but there was very little difference between the two women as the men moved and together lightly stabbed with the very tips of their tongues at the acutely sensitive opening to the despairing women’s urethras.

  It was Flora who reacted first. She gave a loud shriek of ecstasy mixed with frustration and her back arched causing her stomach to jerk up into the air and the glass bowl slipped from its tight leather base and fell to the bed beneath, spilling the contents as it went.

  Only a few seconds later, Celia too was ravaged by an intense orgasm whose pleasure was almost spoilt for her by the tightness of the leather round her taut belly and the violence of the long-suppressed waves of contractions.

  Deborah had never watched another woman brought to a climax before. She had never even watched another man and woman in any kind of sex play, and if anyone had suggested it to her she would have refused indignantly, but now she had to admit to herself that watching the two skilled men and the women fighting against
their natural responses had been the most arousing thing she’d ever done.

  Celia struggled upright into a sitting position. ‘I guess I won!’ she said with a grin.

  Brian looked levelly at her. ‘I guess you did. We’ll go to the dungeon I think.’

  For a moment, a look of hesitation crossed Celia’s features, but then she saw Flora’s look of misery and grinned in triumph. ‘Bliss! Sleep well, Flora. Better luck next time.’

  ‘Come on,’ Pavin whispered in Deborah’s ear. ‘I can’t wait any longer. Now it really is time for us to go to bed.’

  Deborah nodded, her mouth too dry for her to speak, and while the others chatted amongst themselves Pavin hurried her from the room. Only Flora saw them leave and Pavin’s haste simply added to her misery at losing out to Celia moments earlier. She tried not to imagine what might happen in his bedroom so far away from the rest of them all during the next few hours.

  Chapter Five

  WHEN THEY REACHED the privacy of their own bedroom, Deborah expected Pavin to tear off his clothes as fast as she was shedding hers, but he didn’t. Instead he watched her as she peeled down her hold-up stockings and then, when she was entirely nude, slipped off his dinner jacket and shoes and stretched out on the chaise longue which he’d pushed to the foot of the bed.

  ‘Lie down,’ he said softly. ‘Lie on your back, propped up against the pillows and tell me what you and Mick used to do.’

  Deborah stared at him. ‘You want to know what I did with Mick? But why? He and I are finished.’

  He smiled reassuringly. ‘Sure, I know that, but you were together for four years. Something must have kept you with him and since he was neither rich nor – as far as I’ve heard – particularly agreeable I’m assuming it was the sex. So, tell me about it.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about Mick; I want you,’ retorted Deborah, her body still on fire from the scene they’d just witnessed.