by Noel Amos
'Go on,' said the other girl, kneeling by his side, her eyes big with excitement. 'Slap her arse hard. Make her cheeks wobble. You're dying to do it, I bet.'
Stephen didn't believe in physical violence and he didn't believe in corporal punishment. He was revolted by the thought of sadistic practices and repulsed by masochism. That was the theory. But he discovered, as he brought his hand down hard on the firm rounded bum flesh spread across his lap, that theory and practice were two different things. Before he had laid on two solid smacks and set the smooth white flesh in motion he knew that he believed in spanking a girl's naked bottom when she asked for it.
And this one was asking for it all right.
'Harder,' she cried. 'Do it harder! Oh yes, please! Do it again!'
The sounds of the spanking and the moans and squeals of the spankee echoed across the fields. There were whoops and coarse shouts from the barbecue as connoisseurs of the art recognised what was taking place.
'That's enough,' said the first sister, 'any more and you'll have to fuck her straight away.'
'What!'
'Don't worry, you can fuck her soon enough but you've got to spank me first. It's my turn now.'
She was serious. She was stepping out of her black miniskirt, revealing long slim thighs in stockings and suspenders. She wore no knickers and a blonde bush sprang from the base of her belly, the pink stripe of her slit fully revealed beneath. She laid herself across his thighs in place of her sister, her glorious white bum cheeks framed by the black silk of her suspenders and stockings.
'Go on, smack me. Take your revenge.'
'I don't understand.'
'Melanie,' said the other blonde in worried tones.
'Don't worry, sis, he'd never tell. Besides I'm sure he's already worked out who tied him to the garden roller this morning.'
'You!' exclaimed Stephen.
'Well done, Sherlock. Why don't you warm my bum and even the score?'
'It's a deal,' said DC Fantail and set her pretty buttocks dancing.
Chapter 61
In the barn, the action was hotting up. The local girls had cleared a space on the sawdust-strewn floor and were performing a dance unknown to outsiders. It involved a lot of hand-clapping and whooping and skirt-flipping - an action that soon turned the male revellers into bug-eyed spectators.
'Did I see what I thought I saw?' said Tony from Wales. 'You did,' replied Mitzi. 'None of these sluts are wearing knickers.'
'Good Lord,' muttered Ray from Humberside as a small brunette lifted her frock to her waist and, for a split second, bared brown thighs and a triangle of black pussy curls.
'Fantastic!' cried Barry from Scotland who had his eye on a strapping blonde pirouetting in front of him. He could not be certain but he'd bet money she had a shaven fanny. Any second now he'd find out...
'Hey!' he cried in protest as a small but determined hand spun him round.
'That's enough,' said Mitzi, pushing and pummelling her Gartertex colleagues into a line with their backs to the dance. 'If you guys want to keep me company then you can take your eyes off other women. Don't I look good enough for you?'
Certainly she looked good enough, they agreed. She looked quite splendid. In fact, they had never seen her look so mouthwatering. Particularly in that brassiere.
'Would that be a Raquel you're wearing?' asked Tony as he gazed with fascination at the inner curve of her golden left breast, enticingly exposed in the deep vee of her jacket.
'Looks like a Cleopatra to me,' said Ray. 'Lifts and separates as if by magic. My year-in, year-out stock line.'
Mitzi smiled. This was more like it. 'What's your guess, Barry?' She leaned towards him and gave him the benefit of both barrels, as it were.
He considered the problem. His professional judgement was on the line. 'It's a Samantha,' he pronounced. 'Enhances as it entrances. Only the biggest and the best can get away with it.'
'Correct,' said Mitzi and undid the button holding her jacket over the glories of her chest. 'Look,' she said, and they did.
The big beautiful balloons of her breasts were supported by the flimsiest of scalloped black brassieres. A transparent veil moulded her bosom into twin thrusting peaks whose upper curves were completely bare. The dark brown thimbles of her nipples pointed at them, just begging to be thumbed and tickled and sucked.
'I think Barry deserves a prize,' said Tony.
'Too right,' said Ray. 'Let him take it off.'
Mitzi hesitated. Over Ray's broad shoulder she saw Don. He was dancing in a clinch with that fat blonde and he had his tongue down her throat.
'OK,' she said hoarsely, wondering where this might lead. 'Take my tits out, Barry. You can all have a good look.'
'Which one do you fancy most?'
Max gave Robyn a surprised glance. The pair of them were sitting on a wooden bench watching the dancers. 'What makes you think I fancy any of them? This set-up is rather too provincial for my taste.'
'Come off it, Max. You're known as the horniest news-hound on the Dog. Which one of those birds would you like to flush into the open?'
Max surveyed the swirling crowd of girls cheerfully showing off their plump thighs and pouting pussies. A flash of light drew his eye to a slim figure in cool silk whose copper-coloured hair was pushed back off her face as she aimed her camera. Adriana was taking the sensational shots which, suitably censored, would soon adorn Max's shock-horror expose of naughty nights in the North Grinding.
'Robyn, even if I did fancy one of those fair maids do you think I'd tell you? You'd claim I was about to sell her into white slavery in tomorrow's Bunny.'
Robyn smiled. Something of the sort had crossed her mind.
'More to the point,' Max continued, 'why don't you tell me which one you fancy? What about that small dark one with the brown legs who looks Spanish? I understand you have a penchant for Latin girls.'
Robyn forced a laugh but couldn't keep the shock off her face. How the hell did he know about Mercedes?
'It's OK, Robyn, I won't say a word in print. Alistair told me in strictest confidence.'
'He's a bastard. You don't want to believe anything he tells you about me.'
'Quite.' Max appreciated the unobtrusive way Adriana skirted the leering lurching crowd, crouching gracefully to get her shots. 'Did you know that they mix specially prepared seeds and grasses with sawdust and spread it on the floor? That's why the girls leave their knickers off. The seeds fly up and stick to their pubic hair and sexual parts creating in them a furious desire to copulate.'
Adriana was down on one knee in front of him, the thin peach silk of her loose trousers pulled taut across the full rounds of her buttocks. Max admired her professionalism. He reminded himself that he did not lust after her in the least.
'So?' said Robyn.
'So if you slipped your panties down your delectable legs and stamped around on the floor for a bit we might be able to verify the existence of this aphrodisiacal phenomenon.'
'Are you saying you want to screw me, Max?'
'You bet. DOG SHAFTS RABBIT - it would make a great headline. Let's go for it.'
'OK but I don't fancy getting a load of grass and seeds up my snatch, thanks very much.'
'Don't worry. I can provide something much more satisfactory.' And he grabbed her hand and led her out of the door, making sure not to catch his photographer's eye on the way.
Miriam high-kicked with gusto. As she did so she searched the cheerful throng for one face in particular. She had set her sights on a certain man. If he was here tonight, she meant to have him. It would crown a most successful day.
Her mind was still buzzing with the achievements of her three daughters. Just before they had set off for the evening the girls had sprung their surprise - through a lucky sequence of bets on the Lark Hill races they had won enough money to buy her the freehold of the donkey sanctuary! Rodney Holmdale had confirmed it by phone and congratulated her on having such enterprising girls! Miriam had been a little surpr
ised to hear that Julia was resigning from the hotel but, since Melanie and Mercy were being promoted to Joint Manager, what did it matter? She'd long harboured the hope that Julia and Rodney might forge a romance but perhaps one of the others would catch his eye...
Suddenly she spotted her quarry. Like all the other lusty lads he was in the crowd, transfixed by the twinkling limbs of the dancing girls. Maybe Miriam was a little old to be part of the fertility dance but she was not the only matron in the throng and she knew she still had what it took to get her man.
The atmosphere was thick with smoke and wood shavings. There was an itch in her loins, fired by a recent memory and fanned by the warm air bathing her naked pussy under her skirt. She moved closer to her quarry, the blond boy from London, the one she had seen pleasuring Lucy Salmon in this very barn just a few days ago. Any minute now the dancers would break ranks, no one could hold out much longer. Then it would be every woman for herself and Miriam knew just what she wanted - the long white cock of Gavin Bird.
Julia Jarvis did not feel a part of the hysteria all around her. She observed the girls in their ritual dance as if from afar - to think she had been part of the obscene exhibition last year! She saw her mother cavorting in the crowd, her eyes alight with happiness and lust. Somehow, cocooned in Archie Monk's arms, it did not seem real.
The pair of them swayed together on the fringe of the festivities, like a pair of waltzing pensioners. Julia loved the firm shackle of his arms around her, his lean body pressing into hers, the soft burr of his voice in her ear.
'You've led me a fine dance,' he said. 'You've fooled the entire country, you cunning witch.'
Julia's heart was thumping - surely he wasn't going to arrest her like this? She had the security of Rodney's alibi now, but it was still a frightening prospect.
As if guessing her thoughts, he said, 'Don't worry, I'm no threat to you any longer. I've resigned.'
'I've resigned too,' she blurted.
'I should hope so, you've done enough damage.'
'From the hotel, I mean. I've had enough of it all.'
'What are you going to do?'
'I don't know yet. Find another hotel job, I suppose.'
'How about Scotland? Come with me and we'll open a place in the Highlands. Somewhere miles away where I can keep an eye on you.'
It was an extraordinary thought.
Bedlam erupted around them as one lad threw himself on the small dark dancer who had been taunting him by wiggling her bare belly under his nose. The boy hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her off through the throng, her pert brown buttocks uppermost, a black wedge of hair clearly visible in the crevice between. It was the cue for a free-for-all, as men and women made a grab for one another, some falling to the floor, others surging for the door and the fields outside.
Julia watched her mother exit into the open air, her arms locked fast around a tall blond youth half her age.
The soft Scots voice was still purring into her ear. 'Come on, Brenda, what do you say? Give up your life of crime and come away with me. I'll make an honest citizen of you.'
Julia giggled. 'What if you don't succeed?'
'I've got a very firm hand. I'll teach you some real discipline.'
'Ooh.' Julia snuggled tighter, pushing her full bosom into his chest. 'I like the sound of that.'
They kissed, a deep-throated clinch that sucked the breath from their bodies. His fingers found the hard bud of a nipple through her clothes and she swooned against him.
'What makes you think I'm Brenda?' she asked.
'I examined you, didn't I? I'm sure you're the one.'
'No doubts at all?'
'Well...'
'I think you'd better make certain, Inspector. Take me outside and examine me again.'
Chapter 62
The sun had gone down but it was no cooler despite a wind that gusted from the south. The breeze blew hot, like dog's breath, propelling big low clouds across the face of the moon. A storm was approaching and the pressure was rising - particularly in the fields surrounding the barn.
In the weird blue light cast by the moon, Stephen Fantail examined every inch of the two glorious sisters who cradled him between their naked bodies.
'We're not absolutely identical, you know,' said one, running her fingers along the rigid barrel of his tool.
'But only our very best friends can tell us apart,' said the other, grazing the tips of her breasts across his chest.
Stephen licked a patch of tender skin high on one girl's inner thigh. He knew, at least he thought he knew, where he would find the mark that would distinguish one from the other. He advanced his tongue and teased open the outer lips of the girl's pouting honeypot. Above him, he heard the hiss of indrawn breath; below, between his legs, he felt the lap of a prying tongue on his balls. Gently he began to suck. He was in no hurry.
Mitzi Bluitt was in the dark in every sense. With one of Ray's big red handkerchiefs tied across her eyes, she could not see a thing. But she could feel and that was the name of the game. From titty-ogling and nipple-pinching and three-way snogging, Mitzi and her admirers had progressed to cock-fondling in the field. As she knelt in the grass, naked to the waist, the men were grouped around her. Their erections were bared to the night air and Mitzi was trying to identify their owners. It was a new diversion for her and she was taking it seriously.
'Circumcised,' she said as she examined the cock on her right. 'Big broad head, fat shaft and - mmm - I can hardly get my lips round it. That's got to be Ray.'
'By gum, she's good,' said a thick northern voice.
'Don't put it away, Ray. I'm going to need it in a moment. Now, this one...'
From across the meadow came a harsh, bull-like grunting. Mitzi recognised it at once. It was Don reaching his short strokes with the over-endowed blonde. For a fleeting second she felt sorry for the girl, Don always came too soon. With three men of her own at hand, for once Mitzi was confident she was not going to go short of cock.
'This one's very long. Sweet, too. It's like a stick of rock. I bet it says "Barry" all the way through it.'
'Fantastic!' they cried.
'So this big juicy prick must belong to Tony. It's so smooth, like hot velvet. Let me just rub along here and suck this—'
'Mitzi, be careful! I don't think I can - OH!'
'Wow, Tony, you've gone off like a fire extinguisher! Look, boys, he's shot a gallon all over me.' She pulled the blindfold from her face and grinned at them in triumph. Then she began to rub the come into her tits. The sleek rounds of flesh glistened in the moonlight, the nipples shining like wet pebbles.
'God, Mitzi, you're the sexiest woman I've ever met,' said Barry, awestruck. The others murmured hoarse agreement.
Mitzi smiled and took hold of the two remaining erections that pulsed and throbbed inches from her face.
'Thanks, boys, you say the sweetest things. Now who's going to have my mouth and who's going to fuck my cunt? You choose.'
Outside the barn, with the sticky sounds of love and breathless cries of pleasure echoing all around, an earnest conversation was taking place.
'What are you doing here, Chantal? I thought my father had you under lock and key.' Graham knew he sounded callow and petulant but he couldn't help himself.
'I came to find you, Graham, though I don't intend to spoil your fun. You should go with that Mandy; I can see you are longing to play with her big tits.'
'Don't be ridiculous. I only want you.'
'Maybe, but I saw you watching Mandy dancing just now and your penis was sticking out like a salami. Of course, now you have missed your chance. You will have to wait your turn with her.'
'Chantal, please!'
'She won't mind, I promise you. She's built like a cow, that one, she just loves having her udders squeezed. The man with her will be finished soon.'
'Shut up, Chantal.'
'Don't mind me, Graham. Go and join the queue. I'll wait until—'
He silenced her by plac
ing his lips on hers. He invaded her small sweet mouth with his tongue and held her so tight she thought he would squeeze the life out of her. The kiss went on for a long time. When they came up for air, they were lying full length on a bank of grass and her hand was inside his shirt, toying with the tangle of hair on his chest.
'You mustn't tease me, Chantal,' he said.
'OK,' she said, moving her hand down his body, inside his waistband, to take hold of his rigid tool. 'I came to tell you I'm going to marry your father.'
'That's not funny, Chantal.'
'This is no joke.'
'I don't believe it. You can't do this to me!' He struggled to push her away but she was doing such delicious things to his cock that all resistance soon ceased. Her thumb and forefinger ringed his thick penis, sending waves of sensation down that unthinking limb.
'You're a tart,' he sobbed. 'A cruel gold-digger. You know I love you!'
'Don't be silly, Graham. I'm just the first woman you've slept with who knows how to please a man. You're too young to look further than between my legs.'
'We're the same age!'
'Maybe, but you're a provincial English boy who carries his rich daddy's bags. I'm a French peasant who's never had anything she hasn't earned for herself. There's a world between us.'
'You're a heartless bitch.'
'Drop the self-pity, Graham, and listen to me.' She slowed down the rhythm on his tool and ran her thumbnail gently across the head. The big organ leapt at her touch. He was well under control. She whispered into his ear.
'I'm offering you a deal, Graham. I want us to be friends while I learn about your father's business. A firm like Louche Lingerie is made for me. I know about sex. I know what makes women desirable and I know just how to sell it to them. But all those other deadbeats won't see it that way. They'll hate me. That's why I need you on my side.'
There was a silence. Chantal undid Graham's trousers and pulled his throbbing member into the open.