by Felix Baron
‘Hi!’
‘Hi yourself. All alone, in bed?’
‘Yes. You?’
‘Yes. Wearing?’
‘Me? Nothing at all.’
‘I am – wearing something.’
Rolf swallowed. ‘What?’
‘Black stay-up nylons. You like those, don’t you?’
‘Oh yes, very much.’
‘And that black choker.’
‘Lovely.’
‘And a waspie.’
‘A what?’ he asked, though he was pretty sure he knew what a waspie was.
‘Like a corset, but briefer – no bra part and it doesn’t go down so low.’
He said, ‘I wish I were there.’
‘Me too, Rolf, but you’re not, and that can have advantages.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Rolf, before we go on, I’d like to get something straight.’
‘What?’
‘Phone sex – it’s fantasy. That means that we can do things over the phone that we wouldn’t really do, if you were here, right?’
‘I understand.’
‘Good. I wouldn’t want you to think, just because I talk about them over the phone, that I’d really do all the things I describe. In fantasy, there are no limits, no inhibitions, OK?’
‘Of course. Is your waspie real or just part of the fantasy?’
‘It’s real. You’ll see it, someday.’
‘I look forward to that. You were going to describe it?’
Trixie’s voice became deeper and huskier. ‘It goes from just under my bust, down almost to my navel.’
‘Pretty navel,’ Rolf interrupted.
‘Thanks. It’s made of leather, vertical red and black stripes, and it’s very stiff, very constricting. It pinches my waist – makes it very small. Do you like that, Rolf?’
He had to clear his throat before he said, ‘Yes.’
‘My maid, Yvette, pulled it so tight I can hardly breathe.’
Rolf flashed back to an erotic drawing another student had shown him, back in university, of a French Maid in a short-skirted uniform, her knee in her Mistress’s back, tugging on the strings of a corset. He croaked, ‘Yvette?’
‘She’s fantasy, Rolf. I don’t really have a maid to dress and undress me.’
‘Of course not. I understood that.’
‘Shall I tell you about her?’
‘If you like.’
‘She’s half French, half Vietnamese, slender and supple, with waist-length black hair and sloe-eyes. She’s young, just about Penny’s age, but totally depraved. I bought her from the Madame of a brothel in Tangiers, where she was the star attraction.’ Trixie chuckled. ‘How do you like her so far, Rolf?’
‘Lovely, but she’s nowhere near as attractive as her Mistress.’
‘Thank you, kind Sir. Oh – one other thing – she’s very flexible. Yvonne can eat her own pussy.’
‘Really?’
‘That’s rare, Rolf. I’ve tried but I can’t bend enough.’
‘You’ve tried? Is that for real, or imagination?’
‘For real. A woman has needs, Rolf, and it’s been lonely for me since my husband passed on. There’s only so much a vibrator can do.’
‘Vibrator?’ he prompted.
‘Every widow’s best friend. Mine’s a “classic” – a nine-inch smooth ivory cylinder. I got it from a mail order catalogue. I wouldn’t dare go into one of those stores.’
‘I see.’
‘He’s here in bed with me, Rolf.’ She giggled. ‘Want to say hello?’
Rolf said, ‘Hello,’ and heard a buzzing response.
‘He’s not jealous, Rolf. He knows you’re better than him in bed but he doesn’t mind.’
‘Big of him.’
‘You’re better. You aren’t jealous of him, are you Rolf? You wouldn’t mind watching while he made love to me?’
‘No, of course not.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I think I’d enjoy that,’ he confessed.
‘And I’d enjoy watching you stroke yourself. Are you doing that, Rolf?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Please do. I’d love to be there, watching you, watching those big strong fingers lovingly stroking that lovely hard smooth cock of yours. You will let me watch, one day, won’t you? I want to learn how you like to do it, so I can do it the same way for you.’
‘You do it just fine,’ he said.
‘Are you doing it now?
‘Yes.’
‘Would you like to know what we’re doing?’
‘We?’
‘Me and Yvette, remember?’
‘Of course. Your exotic young maid. I’d almost forgotten her. What are you two naughty girls up to?’
‘I’m lying on my bed, in my waspie, on my back. Yvette is leaning over me. Her head is moving to and fro, stroking my bare skin with the tips of her silky black hair. She’s naked. Her breasts are quite tiny, with sharp little nipples. I’m pinching one right now. She likes that.’
‘Like you do.’
‘Don’t interrupt.’
‘Sorry.’
‘No, I’m sorry. Can I carry on?’
‘Please.’
‘I’m pulling her down by her nipple, bringing her mouth down to my breast. Her lips are on my nipple, sucking hard, very hard, like I’m her mother and she’s suckling.’ Trixie paused. ‘Are you stroking yourself, Rolf?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yvette is so bad, she’ll do absolutely anything for me. She will for you, too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Rolf, being in bed with both of us, me telling Yvette what to do to you.’
‘All I need in bed is you, Trixie. You’re more than enough for any man.’
‘But you’ve thought about being in bed with two women, haven’t you. All men do. Have you ever done that, in real life?’
He confessed, ‘No.’
‘Me neither, with two men. I don’t even fantasise about that.’
‘What do you fantasise about, when you . . .?’
‘Masturbate? A big strong masterful man, like you, Rolf. In fact, it’s always been about you, ever since the night we met.’
‘Really?’
‘Really – and Yvette, sometimes. She’s sort of my alter-ego, who does the things I wouldn’t do, for me. She’s a dirty little girl, Rolf, the kind men dream of fucking.’ Trixie paused. ‘You don’t mind me saying that word do you, Rolf? “Fucking?”’
‘No, not in our fantasy, I don’t.’
‘How about “pussy?”’
‘No, I don’t mind.’
‘“Cunt”?’
‘I . . .’
‘I’m pushing Yvette’s face down, Rolf. Eat my cunt, you nasty little bitch!’ In a conversational tone, Trixie asked, ‘Did that offend you, Rolf?’
‘That’s the language she understands, right?’
‘Exactly. I knew you’d get it. Rolf?’
‘Yes?’
‘When I’m bad, really bad, will you use that sort of language to me?’
‘Like “cunt”?’
‘And “bitch”, and “slut”.’
‘Would you like me to?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I will.’
‘Thank you.’ Trixie gave a little sigh. ‘My slut, Yvette, has her tongue in my cunt, Rolf. She’s slurping away – can’t get enough of my juices. You’re still stroking yourself?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is there anything you’d like Yvette to do to me, for you to watch?’
‘Such as?’
‘Don’t be shy, Rolf. Such as I roll over and have her work that long pointy tongue of hers up my tight little bum-hole. Would you like that?’
Rolf managed to get a ‘Yes’ out. Trixie was amazing. He’d never dreamed that a real woman could be so uninhibited. His fist tightened on his cock and pumped faster.
‘Oh yes,’ Trixie continued, ‘lick my bum-hole, you bitch! Work that nasty tongue of yours deep into me. Tongue-fuck my bum! She’s so b
ad, Rolf. The more I degrade her, the more she likes it. Would you like to degrade her?’
‘How?’
‘Ever bugger a woman, Rolf? Ever shoved that big hard cock of yours up a young girl’s tight little rear and fucked her till she screams? Ever made her take it?’
The ‘young’ threw him for a moment but he managed, ‘Um – no.’
‘Then now’s your chance. Yvette’s kneeling up behind me, licking my bum-hole, with her bottom up in the air, ready for you. Fuck her bum, Rolf. Force your way into her. Sodomise the nasty little slut!’
Rolf heard Trixie’s vibrator buzzing again, loud and then muted, as if it’d been muffled by her flesh. Her own dirty talk had to be getting to Trixie. He could see her in his imagination, likely on all fours to fit her fantasy, with her vibrator in her hand, pumping it into herself, into her cunt, as she would say.
She’d done all the talking, so far. He owed it to her to contribute.
‘I’m kneeling up behind Yvette, Trixie. I’m spreading the cheeks of her bum. I can see her hole. It’s too small, but I’ll make it take me, all of me.’ He made a spitting sound. ‘Hear that? I’ve spat on it, Trixie. Now I’m putting my cock to it. I’m forcing it, Trixie. It’s so tight, but it’s stretching.’
‘Make her take it, Rolf. You know the bitch wants it.’
‘I’m in, and I’m fucking her.’
‘And she’s licking my bum-hole and fingering my cunt, Rolf. She’s working her whole hand into me. Oh fuck! She’s fisting me! Good job she’s got small hands, Lover. If you ever did this to me, it’d be devastating. Fuck her hard, Rolf!’
‘I am!’
‘And I’m – and I’m . . .’ She squealed and sighed.
Rolf let the climax he’d been holding back flow. Too late, he remembered the box of tissues by his bedside. Oh well! He’d change the sheets before Mrs Chow, his cleaning lady, came on Friday.
‘Did you?’ Trixie asked.
‘Yes. You?’
‘Yes, thank you, Rolf.’
‘Trixie?’
‘Yes?’
‘How much of that was fantasy, that you’d never really do, and how much was fantasy that you would do, under the right circumstances, with the right man?’
‘A woman is entitled to her secrets, Rolf. Goodnight, dream lover.’
Her phone clicked off, twice. Rolf wondered why, for just a moment, before he drifted into sated sleep.
Fourteen
Rolf knuckled the door to the women’s apartment. It swung open.
Trixie called from what sounded like a couple of rooms away. ‘Come on in you two! We’re just getting ready for you.’
Rolf and Andrew lugged the picnic hamper into the dining room and started to unpack it. They had the table pretty well covered when Trixie and Penny emerged from the main bathroom wearing skimpy but opaque wraps and raffia wedgie sandals.
Penny clapped her hands to her face and squealed, ‘Oh my God! Are you feeding us all for a week?’
‘I wish,’ Andrew said.
Trixie checked the label on a quart of Tanqueray. ‘Sorry to keep you two waiting but we had to decide which swimsuits to wear, “for your viewing pleasure”.’
‘I’m sure it’ll prove worth the wait,’ Rolf said.
‘We do our best.’
Andrew asked, ‘You have a lot of swimsuits?’
Penny grinned. ‘You know how some women are with shoes? That’s how my Mom and me are with swimsuits. No matter how many we have, we always want more.’
Rolf tore his eyes away from Penny’s long slim legs, hoping that Trixie hadn’t noticed that he’d been staring at her daughter’s thighs. ‘I’d be very happy to take you ladies on a shopping expedition, someday. There must be a hundred places to buy bikinis in town.’
Andrew jumped in with, ‘Count me in.’
‘You’ll be at university, my boy, sorry.’
His son scowled.
‘Do we get changed down at the pool?’ Rolf asked.
‘No. Use our bathrooms,’ Trixie offered. ‘That’ll give me time for a little drinkie before we go down.’
‘Mother!’
‘Just to warm me up, in case the water’s cold.’
Rolf and Andrew changed quickly and came out in the terry robes they’d brought with them and flip-flops.
Trixie greeted them with, ‘As there’s hardly ever anyone at the pool, we thought you men wouldn’t mind if our swimsuits were a teeny bit more daring than we’d usually appear in, in public.’
Rolf swallowed. The swimwear they’d worn at the resort had been pretty daring, by his standards. He asked, ‘They don’t allow nude bathing in this building by any chance?’
‘Naughty!’ Trixie scolded. ‘Where’d the mystery be in that?’
They split up at the entrances to the pool, the men going through the men’s locker room and the women through the women’s. Rolf wasn’t the least surprised that he and his son emerged at the pool before the women did. The men made for the deep end.
Andrew suggested, ‘Race?’ and dived in.
Rolf followed him in under half a second. They were close enough reaching the other end that both could claim to be the winner. Andrew won the second race but by no more than an arm’s stretch.
Rolf asked, ‘Best of three?’
Andrew began, ‘In that case, I’ve already . . .’ but the women arrived and the rivalry became irrelevant.
They still had their wraps on. As if it were choreographed, they tossed them aside and posed, obviously waiting for the applause that the puzzled men gave them. Where was the ‘more daring than they’d usually appear in, in public’? Each was wearing a simple one-piece. The men climbed out of the pool for closer looks.
Trixie’s ‘more daring’ became apparent. Her halter-neck suit with French-cut legs alternated vertical stripes, black-on-black. Seen closer, half the stripes were narrow, about an inch and a half wide, with a glossy satin finish, but the other, wider, two and a half-inch stripes were made of a very fine mesh, as transparent as black nylon hose. The stripes that barely covered her nipples and her sex were opaque, but Rolf couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she were to twist or turn, moving her body under the fabric. Even immobile, the effect was deliciously erotic. As she’d suggested in her apartment, mystery can be much sexier than nudity.
Whatever it was that was specially daring about Penny’s suit, also halter-neck and with equally high-cut legs, stumped Rolf. It was very glitzy, with alternating diamonds of gold lamé and of some plain white fabric, perhaps silk, but it wasn’t dramatically revealing.
‘You both look gorgeous,’ Rolf said.
‘Super hot,’ Andrew agreed.
Penny smiled knowingly. ‘You’ll see.’ She ran to the deep end, up onto the single diving board, and executed a perfect long flat dive.
Trixie jumped into the shallow end with a squeal. Penny raced in a fast crawl to join her. Andrew looked at his Dad, shrugged, and jumped in. Rolf followed.
Penny stood up, with the water barely up to her hips, and posed again. The white diamonds had turned so transparent that they were virtually invisible. Like Trixie’s satin stripes, the gold diamonds covered the more intimate parts of her anatomy, but only just, and even if the subtle curves of a young breast aren’t quite as exciting to a man as a naked nipple, they are still powerfully erotic. The crease of a groin isn’t the same as a bare pussy, but . . .
Rolf realised that he’d been staring at Penny too hard for too long and turned to Trixie.
She said, ‘I’m going to try the whirlpool.’ She started to heave herself onto the side but seemed to find it a struggle.
Rolf helped, boosting her with one hand on the cool flesh of each half-bare cheek of her bottom. By the time she was kneeling on the side, his erection was fighting the fabric of his Speedo. Somehow, he clambered out of the water with one hand concealing his lust.
Behind him, he heard Andrew challenge Penny to a race, the show-off! Relieved that the youngst
ers were too busy to notice his embarrassing bulge, he joined Trixie in the lightly steaming water.
‘Can you push the button?’ she asked.
He found it beside the railings of the steps. When he thumbed it, the water roiled from the thrusts of a dozen powerful underwater jets. Trixie made for the nearest one and sat on the ledge beneath it. Rolf joined her.
‘Sit by a jet,’ she told him. ‘It feels wonderful on your back.’
‘I’d rather sit by you, Trixie.’
‘Sweet.’ Her hand found his thigh under the water.
Rolf twisted and craned. The kids were splashing around in the deep end. He ducked down enough that they wouldn’t be able to see him and turned to kiss Trixie.
When they parted for air, she asked, ‘Do you still respect me, Rolf?’
‘Respect you? Of course I do. Why do you ask?’
‘On the phone? I was pretty raunchy.’
‘So was I. I guess we’re two of a kind, Trixie.’
She leaned close and whispered, ‘Randy as teens but with the know-how they lack, right?’
He grinned and cupped her right breast.
‘You like me to be naughty, don’t you, Rolf?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m going to be naughty right now.’
‘You are?’
‘Keep an eye on those two for me. Warn me if they head this way.’
Rolf turned. Kneeling on the ledge raised his head and shoulders above the edge of the whirlpool. ‘I’m watching them. ‘Now what?’
Trixie joined him, kneeling on the ledge. A big grin spread across her face. He didn’t understand why until he looked down through the water. Trixie had spread her knees far apart, bringing her sex lower and just a few inches from the throbbing water-jet’s outlet. The crafty little minx was being masturbated by it.
Remembering what she’d told him she liked, he leaned closer and whispered, ‘You little slut!’
‘I am, aren’t I. Want to help?
‘How?’
She worked three fingers under the crotch of her swimsuit and pulled it aside. Rolf was fascinated. The pulsating jet was fluttering the lips of her pussy. No wonder she was grinning. The water had to be penetrating her at the same time as it beat on her clitoris.
‘Hold me open,’ she said, ‘but don’t block the flow.’