Slowly she clawed her way back up to the real world. She raised herself on her elbows and looked down at Corinda. 'Come here, my sweet thing. Let's be together now.'
The dildo was a new toy but the older, more established rituals asserted themselves again. Corinda knew at once what Arabella wanted. Moving towards her head she swung a thigh over the older woman's shoulder and planted her sex firmly on her mouth. Then she centred her own lips on the woman's sex. Thus they were joined, as they had been joined before, their actions and reactions synchronised, their bodies feeling the same thing and doing the same thing; each touch, each lick, each kiss they gave exactly the same as they received.
What had gone before was a prelude to this. Though both had experienced shattering orgasms as the dildo had invaded them, it was this familiar combination that would deliver to them the most exquisite pleasure of all. Corinda felt Arabella's tongue lapping at her sex, as though she were licking an ice cream, and responded at once by doing the same to Arabella. The dildo had slipped from her body and Corinda replaced it with her fingers, this time sliding another finger alongside them into the woman's anus. She knew Arabella would do the same to her, and sure enough felt fingers penetrate her front and rear.
They rolled and rocked on the bed, hugging together, their breasts crushed, their nipples as hard as pebbles. They were so close in every way, they could feel exactly what the other felt. In fact it was almost impossible to distinguish who was feeling what. Their bodies trembled with pleasure; the sharp, rapid orgasms they had experienced with the dildo were replaced by a long slow build up, a gathering tidal wave of passion that swept over everything in its path. As Corinda felt the wave mounting higher in her own body the effect was doubled because she could feel it in Arabella too. Eventually, after what might have been seconds but felt like hours, the wave reached a peak with the sensations so intense neither could stand it any longer. There it stayed, seemingly suspended in mid-air, a wall of trembling water waiting to crash down. When it did both females underwent the same catharsis at the same time, both clinging to each other for support, arms wrapped around each other's thighs, mouths pressed to each other's sex-lips, as though afraid they would be washed away by the surging tide of exhilaration.
How many times had Corinda come like this, joined to Arabella, their bodies intertwined to form some strange two-headed beast? It was what Arabella had taught her, and she was grateful for it. But tonight her climax had been different. Tonight, deep in her sex, the dildo had left an impression, like a key pressed into soap. Tonight, though it was Arabella's artful tongue and fingers that had brought her off, it was the feeling of the dildo that had been the most powerful provocation. It had left her with a burning desire to experience the real thing.
Disentangled from each other, Arabella picked the dildo up from the bed, dried it with a towel and replaced it in the padded box. 'Let's go down to the beach for a walk,' she said. 'There are things I have to tell you, Corinda. The time has come.'
The giant orange ball of the sun had almost sunk below the horizon, colouring the whole sky with shades of burnt sienna. It gave the calm sea the appearance of liquid gold. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the tiny waves at the water's edge; a regular soothing sound that seemed to match the beat of Corinda's heart.
They sat side by side on the soft white sand, both wearing brightly coloured silk wraps tied loosely around the bodies which were still prone to little tremors and thrills of pleasure from their lovemaking.
'You understand why you're here, don't you?' Arabella said.
'Here on the island?' Corinda was digging her foot into the sand, making little patterns with her toes.
'Yes.'
'It's what my father wanted. It was in his will, his legacy to me.'
'Exactly. Just after you were born your mother had - well, let's say it was an accident. It was caused by two rather nasty men. And your father was very bitter about it. He loved your mother very much, Corinda, and he just couldn't stop thinking about what had happened to her. I think it drove him a little bit mad. He didn't want the same thing to happen to you. So, a couple of years later when he found out he was dying - well, he made this will...'
'For me to come here?'
'I've done everything he asked of me, Corinda. No man has ever been allowed into the estate.' Arabella paused, looking into Corinda's big blue eyes.
'But?' Corinda asked expectantly.
'Tomorrow you come of age, legally speaking. You can no longer be bound by the terms of the will. It is up to you to choose what you do. I think he hoped you would want to stay here, that you would love it so much you would never want to be part of the real world. But I know that is not true, is it, Corinda?'
'The real world? You mean England.'
'England first.'
'You're sending me to England!' Corinda jumped up on her knees and faced Arabella.
'It's your choice, of course, but I've arranged for you to go to university. There were two trustees of your father's will; myself and Andrew Morrison. Andrew was your father's solicitor but unfortunately he died last year. His son has taken over. He agrees with what I propose wholeheartedly. Tomorrow he's arriving on your father's old yacht. He will sail you back to England.'
'Really? Really? I can't believe it.'
'Is that what you want, Corinda?'
'Oh yes, yes. It's brilliant. It's great. I can't believe it. I mean I love it here, but there's so much else to see in the world. I can't imagine what it will be like. I've read so much about it. All the people and traffic and shops...' She was going to add men but thought better of it. Suddenly another thought struck her. 'But what about you?'
'I shall stay here. Under the terms of the will, if I carried out all my duties the house becomes mine.'
'So I can come back whenever I want?'
'Of course you can. This will always be your home.'
'What's he like, Bella?'
'Who?'
'The other trustee.'
'Tim Morrison. Well, I've never met him. We've talked on the phone. He seems very business-like. We've arranged for you to stay in your father's house in London. There's a trust to provide you with all the income you need. Then you can decide what subject you want to read at university.'
'Oh Bella, I can't believe it. When will he be here?'
'I had a message from him by radio. The yacht should arrive tomorrow evening.'
'When we're having the party?'
'Yes, he'll probably in time for that.'
Corinda's excitement was doused by a wave of sadness. She had been happy on the island despite the strange circumstances. And she loved Arabella more than she thought she would love anyone in the world. It was going to be difficult to leave her.
'I'll miss you, Bella.'
'No you won't; you'll be much too excited to miss me.'
'That's not true.'
'I'll always be here for you.' Arabella stroked Corinda's cheek, wondering if she would ever want to come back once she had discovered the lure of the big city and, more importantly, the advantages of the opposite sex. Given the exigencies of the Chaste legacy, she hoped she had done everything she could to make the girl's life a happy one. Perhaps she should not have introduced her to the pleasures of the flesh, but that was part of the real world too. She had always known Corinda would want to leave the island but to let her go without at least some knowledge of sex would have been negligent; that was how she justified it to herself in the watches of the night.
They held the party on the beach. Chinese lanterns on tall cane poles had been dug into the sand in a semicircle, and a barbecue provided Greek specialities: marinated lamb, quails roasted on a spit, and local giant prawns split open and grilled with garlic. The local wine flowed, served from large pottery jugs, and a small band played the infectious rhythms of Greek music. The band, like all the guests, were women. All Corinda's tutors from past and present had been invited, and some had been ferried in specially from the mainland. W
omen had been employed to teach her to ride, to swim, to play tennis and water-ski, as well as to educate her in more formal disciplines. Corinda was glad to see them again.
But whoever she found herself talking to, it was hard not to glance up at the sleek white yacht that had dropped anchor just beyond the outcrop of rocks that created a natural bay in front of the private beach. She was anxious to catch her first glimpse of Tim Morrison.
The yacht was festooned with lights, like a giant Christmas tree bobbing on the sea. In fact Corinda did not see the young solicitor walk down the gangplank, hanging diagonally from the side of the boat, and get into the sleek speedboat that would bring him to the island. The first she was aware of it was the noise of the engines approaching.
There was a small jetty where most of the supplies for the house were landed and Corinda could see Arabella waiting at the end of it. She saw her help a man ashore but it was too dark to see what he looked like.
Excusing herself from the conversation she was having with the woman who had taught her maths, Corinda ran across the beach, her heart in her mouth. As the beach dipped down towards the sea she lost sight of the jetty behind a bank of palm trees, and by the time she had climbed the stone steps that led up to it, Arabella and the man had gone.
Calming herself, and trying to tell herself to behave less like a lovesick schoolgirl now that she was eighteen, she took the long path that led from the jetty into the house. Her excitement at the prospect of meeting a man face to face for the first time in adulthood was increased by curiosity. She had read about men and knew they were fundamentally different to women, not just biologically but in a hundred other ways. There was even, some writers said, a chemical reaction between a man and a woman. The young man she had seen in the vineyard, who had become the subject of her sexual fantasies, had been too far away to test the accuracy of that theory. She was bursting to know what it would be like to see a man close up, to touch his hand and feel his flesh.
She walked into the house and through to the sitting room where she could see Arabella pouring champagne into two tall glasses. And there he was, standing with his back to her in a white linen suit.
'Corinda,' Arabella said, handing the man a glass, 'this is Tim Morrison.'
He turned and smiled, extending his hand to her. 'Very pleased to meet you, Ms Chaste.'
He was handsome. He wasn't Heathcliff or Mr Darcy, or any of the other classical romantic heroes Corinda had read about in her English literature course, but there was no question that he was an attractive man. He was younger than she had imagined and very tall, with thick blond hair and pale blue eyes. His face was open with a rather small, delicate nose, a square chin and a fleshy mouth. He had the sort of smile that was instantly infectious, making everyone around him smile too.
'Did you have a good journey?' Corinda asked as she shook his hand. Her fingers seemed to tingle as he touched them.
'Wonderful. Beautiful weather. This is my holiday really. I'm combining a little bit of business with a lot of pleasure.'
'You like sailing?' Arabella asked.
'No, not at all, but that boat isn't like sailing. It's like a floating hotel. It's amazing.'
His eyes were looking at Corinda in a way that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She was wearing a thin silk dress patterned with enormous sunflowers, and as her nipples puckered she was glad she had decided to wear a bra.
'It's so nice to meet you after all this time,' he continued. 'I mean over the years I've heard so much about you, from my father.'
Corinda was examining him minutely. She was fascinated by his chin, and the comparative roughness of his skin where he had shaved. She had an overwhelming desire to embrace him, to see what his body would feel like. She thought it would be hard and strong, not like the softness she felt with Arabella. The thought of it made her feel hot inside.
'Well, come and join the party,' Arabella said. 'Corinda is all packed. We'll have her cases sent over to the yacht tonight, then you can make an earlier start in the morning.'
'That would be best,' he said.
'How long will it take to get to England?' Corinda asked, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from Tim for even a second.
'Oh, seven or eight days I should think. There's no particular hurry, is there?'
'No, no. I'm in no hurry,' Corinda said.
'Before we go outside there is just one thing. Business.' He took a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his suit. 'Arabella told me of your decision. I mean, that you want to leave the island and come to England. This is just a formal document acknowledging that. We have to put it on file. The status of the legacy will then be changed. Though Arabella and I are still responsible for your trust fund we are no longer your legal guardians.'
'I see,' Corinda said, hardly hearing a word he said. She was too busy watching the way his lips moved as he spoke. He had very white, very regular teeth. She imagined his lips sucking on her nipple and his teeth biting into it.
Tim took a pen from his pocket and uncapped it. He took the paper over to a side-table and waited, pen in hand.
'It is what you want, isn't it?' Arabella asked, interpreting Corinda's hesitation as a change of mind.
'Oh yes. Yes,' she said, hurrying over to Tim. It was not second thoughts that had rooted her to the spot but the effect Tim had on her. It was as if there was a time delay before the words actually got through to her brain. She stood beside him and took the pen from his hand. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers and had to overcome a desire to turn to him and kiss him on his smiling mouth. As she signed the bottom of the paper her hand brushed against his and she felt her whole body tremble.
'That's that then,' he said, picking up the paper. He waved it in the air to dry the ink, then returned it to his pocket. 'You have officially come of age, Ms Chaste. Congratulations.'
'Congratulations,' Arabella said, with sadness in her voice. 'Come on, let's go down to the beach.'
'This is such a beautiful place,' Tim said.
'And you're such a beautiful man,' Corinda said, tilting her head to one side as she stared at him again. She was peeping at his crotch, trying to see the outline of his penis, but the folds of material effectively hid it.
'Corinda, you'll embarrass the young man,' Arabella chided.
'Well, it's true,' Corinda said.
'Thank you; I don't believe I've ever had such a compliment before,' Tim said, though his unflappable response was betrayed by a blush that made his face turn red.
'There's plenty more where that came from,' Corinda added with a coquettish smile.
'That'll be enough of that,' Arabella said, shepherding Tim to the door. 'Behave yourself, Corinda.'
'I might,' she said. 'Then on the other hand, I might not.'
She picked up the bottle of champagne and poured herself a glass. For the first time in her life she felt free to do whatever she wanted, and she definitely intended to do exactly that.
Chapter Two
'Can I ask you a question?'
'Of course.'
'About my father?'
'I didn't really know him. My father looked after all his business. It's only when I took over the firm last year that I got involved in all this.'
They had sailed at eight in the morning. Corinda had wept on the jetty as Arabella said goodbye. On the yacht she stood at the stern as they pulled away, tears running down her cheeks as Arabella waved from the shore. Corinda had refused to move away until the island where she spent her youth had entirely disappeared from sight and the horizon was featureless, with the brilliant blue sky merging into the glittering dark green sea.
Then she had turned, conscious of turning her back on one life, and starting another.
Tim had shown her to her cabin. The boat was luxurious. Her quarters consisted of a large sitting room, and a spacious bedroom with a circular bed and an en-suite bathroom. Everything was fitted out with highly polished wood and brass detailing. The bathroom
contained a shower stall, a sunken bathtub and a steam room as well as the bidet and wash basin. Then they had toured the rest of the boat, from the bridge to the engine room, Corinda noting all the details, especially the eight man crew. She examined each of them critically, but decided none of them were as attractive as Tim.
After a light lunch on the sun deck Corinda had fallen asleep for an hour, finding the excitement of it all quite tiring. Then she returned to her cabin.
Arabella had sent the details of her sizes to London. On the island Corinda had few clothes and, though she had insisted on bringing them all with her, she was delighted to find that Tim Morrison's secretary had been delegated to buy her several outfits for use on the boat. Tonight, Tim told her, they would have a formal dinner and, as she wanted to look her best, she spent the rest of the afternoon trying on her new wardrobe.
The drawers in the bedroom contained lingerie in white, black, and pink silk; there were panties, bras and slips. In the wardrobes hung dresses, haute couture creations from the best designers. There were shoes and boots in matching colours, and little handbags and belts that had been carefully coordinated with the outfits. Corinda tried on each one, hardly able to believe how they changed her appearance. On the island, naked or with a bright silk wrap, Corinda had been a young girl. In the full-length mirror, swathed in red, dark blue or black silk, her breasts tightly confined, she had become a woman.
She finally chose black, but not before she'd tried on everything in the wardrobe and drawers, and experimented with the hoard of make-up she found in the bathroom. Arabella had given her basic training in applying cosmetics, but on the island there was nothing like the variety of products she found neatly arranged here.
The Chaste Legacy Page 2