by King Key
“La-de-da,” Kurt pooh-poohed Jessica’s announcement. “A dress is just gift wrapping.” But he followed her into the living room.
“Not mine,” she said. “This dress is me. Not just the body I was born with. Or the way life has shaped me. My dress is my essence.”
“Wow! Sounds like some kind of philosophy.”
“Perhaps existentialism.”
“Sure, that’s what I was going to say.” Kurt looked heavenward. Thinking of philosophy strained his intellectual capacity. Naming a philosophy was out of the question. He spotted a large box on the coffee table and a smaller box on top. “So, what kind of dress is it? Some exotic animal skin?”
“Leather, Kurt. Not just a skirt. Or a top. Or the combination. But a whole, sleek dress of leather, tracing my entire torso in smooth, curved lines.”
Jessica’s words painted a vivid picture that unnerved Kurt. Against his better judgment, he asked. “What’s in the other box?”
“Boots.”
“Of course.” His gesture began as a shrug but morphed into a hands-up sign of surrender. “And a whip?”
“Not my style. I don’t need to punish a man to get my way. Not physically, anyway.”
Kurt walked toward the boxes. “Let me see.”
She pounced in front of him. “I’ll model my outfit for you.” She picked up both boxes and strode up the stairway to her bedroom.
Kurt waited. And waited. The solitude unnerved him. He bounded up the stairs and went to the only closed door on the second floor.
When he flung the door open, Jessica stood in pale splendor, accented by her black satin bra, garterbelt, and stockings. Eyes closed tight, she seemed in a reverie while she posed for him. The shades were drawn. “Close the door,” she said, eyes still shut.
He pushed the door gently. The latch clicked. With the door closed and the shades down, Kurt could scarcely see Jessica.
Her closed eyes, accustomed to the dark, opened slowly. She watched Kurt’s every reaction to her, a silent, swelling symphony of praise, while she stepped into her black, glossy dress and slithered it up her wriggling torso.
Jessica turned her back to him. “Zip me up.”
Kurt approached but distrusted his nerves. Jessica looked bold and aggressive in leather. “I can’t.”
She turned to face him again. “Poor dear.” Her throaty giggle hit his groin as though she had tossed warm pudding there, soiling him but soothing him with such a radiant glow that he’d endure embarrassment for that sensation. She put her hands behind her back. The crunching whir of her zipper sealed her inside. Her leather reminded him of black armor, sealing her off, making her more desirable because she was unattainable.
Kurt didn’t know why Jessica persisted in standing in the dark—or why he indulged her. While his eyes adjusted, he discovered the reason for Jessica’s stall: She intended for the dazzle of her glory to unfold in stages, like the spaghetti, French bread, salad, and wine she served him. Her tight leather, glimmering in the dimness, projected her flaring hips, thrusting breasts, and the small mounds of her rump, tapering to her shapely legs. Jessica’s features became clearer. Her dress glistened instead of glimmering.
Blood rushed to his cheeks. “Let’s go.”
She smiled at him with a cockiness that approached Gretel’s. “Don’t be shy.”
“Ever watch a rugby match? They used to play at Herring Run Park. Want to see if they still play there?”
“Put my boots on me.” She sat on the edge of her bed.
Kurt knelt before her, surcharged with humility, if not humiliation, that made him tingle from head to toe. Jessica’s legs didn’t have quite as much curve as Gretel’s, but sliding her boots on filled him with awe and lust. His hands shimmied up the sides of one boot and then the other, smoothing them along her legs. Kurt longed to keep pushing his hands up her thighs to her loins. He stayed on his knees, content to stare at her legs.
“You may rise.”
He got to his feet reluctantly and walked over to open the door for her.
She strolled dangerously close to him. He opened the bedroom door, and she stepped into the hall. The slanting rays of the afternoon sunlight streaming through her house transmuted her leather into super skin. Liquid shadows glossed Jessica’s curves in bold relief. When she slinked toward the stairs, the flexure of her hips and the rolling motion of her ass spellbound Kurt. She stopped to wiggle her hands into shiny leather gloves.
He caught up with her in three giant steps. Her magnificent derriere resembled two small leather cushions pressed together as tightly as he suddenly wanted to press his cheeks against her ass, the way Judd had kissed Gretel’s ass. Circling her waist with his arms, Kurt pressed his hard cock against Jessica’s posterior. “You’re fantastic!”
She pushed her buttocks tighter against his groin and swiveled her hips.
“I’d better leave,” he said. They both knew Jessica had annihilated him.
“No, baby, we’ll go back to my bedroom. You first. Raise the shades. I’ve never felt so sexy in my life, and I want to flaunt it.”
He hurried ahead to obey her orders about the shades.
When he turned around, she was walking into the room. The spectacle of her firm thighs straining into leather made Kurt ache for Jessica. “Kneel by the bed,” she said.
He was too dazed to object.
She brushed his cheek with her hip when she passed. Lifting the skirt of her dress, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you need directions?” she teased.
Kurt silently shook his head, No.
The sublime touch of Jessica’s gloved hands emptied his head of any remaining IQ points. She guided his face between her thighs.
Kurt placed his palms against her flesh, over her major labia, with his thumbs down. Interlacing his fingers, he pushed her major labia apart with this thumbs and held them open. He pressed his face firmly and deeply into her vagina, probing without a plan, letting her reactions guide him. He varied his tongue movements from quick, short licks to long, slow laps that she could savor.
He occasionally nuzzled her clitoris with his nose. After teasing and tantalizing Jessica to a reasonable limit, Kurt raised his mouth up to Jessica’s clitoris and attacked it gently but without cessation. He hated to rush, but he yearned to see how she’d reward him. With a flourish of licks that toggled back and forth across Jessica’s clitoris, Kurt quickly brought her to a climax.
She stood and smoothed out her leather dress, effusing sexiness. “Thank you, Kurt.”
“That’s it?”
“I’ve had better.”
“What about me?”
“Weren’t you going to watch some rugby?”
“Do you want me to beg?”
“Do you have a condom?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Jessica stretched luxuriously to let the strain of her flesh against shiny leather unhinge Kurt. “Gretel forbade you to have sex with me. But, according to testimony in a famous grand jury, oral sex isn’t sex. Gretel won’t beat you up. Come back when you’re committed enough to bring a condom.”
“Dueling ovaries,” Kurt said glumly.
“Gretel’s Game,” Jessica countered. “I can play her game as well as she can. I relish putting a man in his place—and making him like it.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Kurt groused. “I don’t want any part of Gretel’s Game.”
“You can’t quit and you know it. We have you in a bind. If I seduce you, I’ll own you. But watch out for Gretel’s cruelty. If you prefer Gretel, we’ll both torment you.”
Chapter Twenty
Love Trumps Acting
After Gretel visited her mother and Rich at the hotel, Bruiser whisked her to Lila’s in-home office in the Lincoln sedan. Gretel released him for a few hours but notified him she’d call him when she completed her business at Lila’s office.
Once inside the house, Gretel embraced Lila, who held a medium-sized stack of papers. They kissed. Gretel
backed away for a moment. “You’re the best looking Kurt I’ve ever seen.”
Lila wore pleated wool pants, a dress shirt without a tie, and wingtip shoes. “Thank you. I’ve got a special treat for you.” She held up a dildo.
Gretel flinched. “Lila, are you sure about this? Even when we role-play, you never penetrate me. As Casper, you get spanked or you masturbate looking at me. When you’re Rich, I screw you. And so on down the list of patients you help me seduce.”
“I know,” Lila agreed. “I prefer to be the woman when we make love. But read this.” Lila handed Jessica a copy of Kurt’s narrative about his first big crush.
Gretel smirked. “‘Greta!’ What a coincidence! Poor Kurt probably has unconscious vibes every time he hears my name. I’ll raise his consciousness!”
“She’s a green-eyed blonde, too,” Lila pointed out.
Gretel kept reading. “I’ll still be the aggressor,” she noted. “But I’d rather you didn’t slip it to me when we practice. That goes against the grain. For both of us.”
Lila’s brows furrowed. “I know. This is our most delicate trap. If we get it exactly right, Kurt will crave you so much he’ll to anything you command.”
“I really, really want to crush him! He’s so arrogant. I’ll order him to his knees, begging to kiss my ass.”
“But if we don’t nail the details precisely, you’ll only have Kurt temporarily. Then some other resourceful temptress will come along and snatch him.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s like Mark Twain’s remark about the exact word and the nearly exact word. He said they’re as different as lightning and a lightning bug. Like any man addicted to fetishes, Kurt also obsesses over specifics.”
“For example?”
“He’s crazy about stockings. Definitely black, probably beige, too. But my guess is that fishnet would turn him off.”
“Picky!”
“Your hose have to match his vision of Greta Hipps in that bedroom twenty years ago. And her garterbelt. Not frilly or delicate, but bold and shiny latex.” Lila rested her chin on her fist. “Maybe leather; I don’t know. Matching gloves and bra.”
“He’s like Casper. Both of them want everything just so.”
“Read some of the Marquis de Sade. Submissives can make so many stipulations, you wonder who’s in charge.”
“I’m always in charge.”
“I know you are, darling, but manipulating Kurt will be tricky.” The slants of the sun’s rays signaled the waning of the afternoon. “We’d better hurry,” Lila said. I laid out your clothes—and a necklace to ‘steal’—in my bedroom. Draw the shades and dim the lights when you’re ready.”
Gretel hurried into Lila’s bedroom and stripped. When she strapped on her garterbelt and bra and shimmied into her slinky black dress, she exuded sex appeal. Looking in the mirror, she realized she’d have to do her hair in a bob to ambush Kurt. Gretel smiled. She could look as young as she felt. She stepped into her black pumps and slid on her gloves. Holding Lila’s diamond necklace in her gloved hands, again, Gretel felt omnipotent. She dimmed the lights.
Lila entered and closed the door. Gretel winked at her and put her finger to her lips to signal silence. She crooked her index finger for Lila to approach and embraced her warmly. Lila kissed her recklessly. Gretel’s passions soared into rapture, the wild abandon she denied Casper, Rich, and Sidney. And, of course, she’d deny Kurt her fevered emotions. Wouldn’t she? Necking in the back seat of her Lincoln felt wickedly sensual …
Lila raked her dildo across Gretel’s loins, and Gretel stiffened in her arms. “What’s wrong?” Lila asked.
“The dildo,” Gretel complained. “Mrs. Hipps controlled Kurt because she controlled his penis. This thing is always ready to go.”
“But I want to ride you, for a change,” Lila pouted.
“I know, honey. And I want you to. But not in this outfit! A dildo is difficult enough. We’re not contortionists.”
Their laughter rippled like the confluence of two streams. Silently, they undressed each other, efficiently, but sneaking in enough caresses to tantalize themselves. Gretel lay on the bed, slid a pillow under her behind, and took Lila’s dildo slowly into her haven. Lila looked uncharacteristically assertive and serious, sliding her dildo back and forth in a smooth rhythm, gaining speed, and peering intently into her lover’s eyes all the while. Their sizzling gazes ignited the lovers, and they synchronized the repeated, arching union of their loins in beautiful harmony. Straining and grunting, they pressed their beautifully sculpted physiques together and apart repeatedly in ecstatic, poetic bliss. Moans expressed their efforts and ecstasy until their orgasms flowed in nearly perfect unison.
“Not as good as your finger,” Gretel mumbled through her exhaustion. She slid the pillow from under her rump onto the floor, feeling as if she were melting on the bed.
“It never is.” Lila lay beside Gretel and kissed her softly on the lips. Unstrapping her dildo, she slid it off and tossed it on the floor.
Gretel turned on her side. “After all these times, you never complained.”
“You look so proud and excited using your dildo. Your delight triggers my orgasm.”
“That’s sweet!” Gretel turned on her side and kissed Lila firmly on the lips. “Kurt might be good for something besides economic exploitation.”
They giggled and kissed gleefully, living so fully and joyfully in the moment.
Lila made a rare sardonic expression. “You know you’ll never get rid of Kurt once you hook him. Mrs. Hipps could have kept him forever.”
“I’ll say, ‘Lila, he followed me home. Can I keep him?’”
This time their giggles had a desperate edge, reflecting the urgency of business impinging on their delicious pleasure—and a subtle foreboding that they’d never be this contented again. “We’ll use a different approach on Kurt,” Gretel decided.
“Will you seduce him tonight?”
“No, I’ll swindle him tonight and seduce him tomorrow when he’s vulnerable.”
“How will you cheat him, you rotten vixen?” Lila’s warm smile thawed her cold words into a cozy compliment.
“I’ve instructed the car shop to call me before they call Kurt. I’ll be there when he arrives. Kurt doesn’t have any cash or credit cards. I’ll lend him money through LAIR—at thirty percent interest—to pay for his car repairs. In future months, I’ll make sure he defaults on his loan. I’ve always wanted a classic Corvette.”
“Oh, Gretel! You magnificent bitch! What about your sexual snare for Kurt?”
“I’ll make sure the shop keeps his car overnight. I’ll offer him a ride—back here. Maybe you and I can steal some more bliss while he’s asleep. In the morning, I’ll lure him into permanent slavery.”
Lila glanced at the clock on her wall. “Do we have time to practice?”
“Rehearsals won’t work,” Gretel said. “Let me immerse myself in Kurt’s transcript and his voice on tape. I want his memories of Mrs. Hipps to fill me so thoroughly that I can portray her to perfection.”
“Here.” Lila took the hand-held tape recorder from a compartment in her headboard and gave it to Gretel. “Listen to this while I shower. Read the transcript while you listen. Speak your lines as Mrs. Hipps. Write down key words and phrases. Every way you can involve your senses in the learning process, the better you’ll learn—not just the facts but also the binding emotions.” Lila stepped into the hall, took a towel from the linen closet, and returned to the bathroom adjoining her bedroom.
Gretel admired Lila’s grace and beauty for a moment before plunging into the text and tape. Beneath the calm surface of Kurt’s narration Gretel detected churning currents of pent-up emotions—his aura of total enchantment, the explosion of his arousal, his unparalleled burst of fulfillment, his stoic acceptance of Mrs. Hipps’s betrayal (perhaps a secret desire for her cruelty to complete his martyrdom), and his undying, blossoming worship, devotion to, and longing for Mrs. Hipps. If she ret
urned that day and offered him a quickie in exchange for ten years in prison, Gretel knew Kurt would eagerly accept her offer—and ask if he could do more for her.
Lila emerged from the shower, towel-dried herself, blow-dried her hair, put on a light touch of makeup, and dressed without the slightest nod from Gretel, who totally engrossed herself in her study of deconstructing Kurt. Finally, Lila walked back to the bed, stuck her face directly in Gretel’s, and said, “The shower’s ready when you are.”
Gretel’s eyes glinted with a faraway look, almost a daze. Although she looked directly into Lila’s eyes, her mind focused inward. “I don’t intend to portray Mrs. Hipps,” she announced.
“I thought Kurt was the key to your plans.” Lila took a deep breath. “I get it. You’re turning theatrical on me. You intend to be Mrs. Hipps.”
“More than that,” Gretel vowed. “I will supplant her. I will eradicate her from Kurt’s memory. He yearns to belong utterly and completely to her. You can hear it in his voice and the desires he expresses. Before I’m through with Kurt, he’ll cling tightly to me, even if I cruelly mistreat him.”
Lila looked skeptical.
Gretel’s expression lightened from concern to serenity. She beamed at Lila. “I’ll share him with you. He’ll be our walking, talking dildo, to use and abuse to our hearts’ content.”
Lila’s eyes opened wide, and the two lovers kissed each other deeply. Unbuttoning her blouse, Lila looked slightly perturbed. “I know you’re dying to strap on.”
“Thank you, honey!”
Lila sighed. “I don’t know why I even bothered getting dressed.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Gretel’s Lair
Kurt drove home quickly, but safely, after leaving Jessica’s house. He ran inside, took a pack of condoms from the medicine cabinet in his bathroom, and put them in his pocket. He considered dashing back to Jessica’s house but abandoned the idea. He knew that a woman could forgive a man who moves too fast, but she resents a man for failing to make a move when she provides an opportunity.