Steamy Sisters (Steamy Springs)

by Jennifer Kitt

  “You’re right. But he was always in the news for different reasons. A bit of a playboy.”

  “I bet. He’s good looking.”

  “Yeah. He’s not bad. But mad, bad and dangerous to know, as they say.”

  “He still looks young. Why isn’t he skiing still?”

  “He had a few injuries, and there was some kind of scandal.”

  “Drugs?”

  “I think so. They found a trace of something in his blood after a test.”

  “Was he thrown off of the circuit?”

  “I’m not sure. It all went kind of quiet. Then it was announced he’d retired because of injury He’d already made millions in prize money and sponsorship deals, though.”

  “Does he live in Steamy Springs?”

  “Don’t think so. Last I heard he was living in Switzerland,” said Emily, smoothing a crease in the grey pencil skirt she was wearing.

  “Is he married?” asked Katarina, looking at Emily, a glint in her eye.

  “I think he’s divorced. He married some European girl, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s come back to the US.”

  “Could be,” said Emily. “Why are you so interested?”

  “No reason,” said Katarina. “Just curious.”

  “Why don’t you go over and talk to him. If he’s been living in Switzerland, he’ll probably speak German.”

  “I don’t understand Swiss German so well. It’s different from German German.”

  “So just speak to him in English, then.”

  “You go.”

  “Okay. I will,” said Emily, and she put down her coffee and walked over to the far side of the Gallery, looking back at Katarina briefly, smiling and raising her eyebrows.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Just admiring the exhibition you’ve got on here,” said Jack Keate, “I love this art of the American West.”

  “Yes, it’s wonderful isn’t it. And really collectible these days.”

  “Yeah. All of these paintings for sale?”

  “Not all of them. Most of them have already been sold. The exhibition’s been on for over two months now, but there’s a few still available. Would you like me to show you?”

  “Sure,” said Keate, and let Emily guide him over to a small painting a few feet away.

  “This is by a local Artist called Edward Philips. He’s in his eighties now, and still painting. His work is becoming really sought after.”

  “I can see why. It’s a great painting.”

  “Do you collect art?”

  “I collect lots of things,” said Keate, looking Emily intently in the eye.

  Emily averted her gaze, feeling that their eye contact had been held a little bit too long.

  “Maybe I can show you something else?”

  “How about that one over there. The Charles Marion Russell.”

  “You do know your art,” said Emily, “Unfortunately, it’s not for sale. It’s just here as the centrepiece of the exhibition. It’s on loan from a collector.”

  “Using it to bring in the crowds, huh?”

  “Yeah. It’s a masterpiece, and it’s certainly got us a lot of publicity.”

  “Who’s the owner?”

  “He’s a local.”

  “Must be worth a million dollars. Do you think he’d sell it?”

  “No way?”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, pretty sure.”

  “You know him well?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “I’d still like to make him an offer.”

  “He won’t sell?”

  “How can you be so sure.”

  “Because he’s my father.”

  “He’s your father?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Okay. Enough said.” replied Keate, “Sorry about being persistent like that. It’s just that when I see something I want I go after it. Just my competitive nature, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s why you were world ski champion,” said Emily. “No need to apologise.”

  Keate smiled and almost looked embarrassed at being recognised. About as embarrassed as he was ever going too look. He was as confident as they come. Sure of himself, and with a skin like buffalo hide. “You’re a naughty girl. Not saying that you recognised me.”

  “We get quite a few famous people in here. They’re entitled to their privacy.”

  “Well that seems to be a minority view these days. Most people have no qualms about coming over and asking for your autograph, or to have their photo taken with you.”

  “I prefer to play it cool.”

  “I bet you do,” said Keate. “I love girls who play it cool.”

  Emily was torn between allowing herself to be chatted up by this guy, and on the other hand, wanting to escape. She gestured for Katarina to come over.

  “You the owner of the Gallery?”

  “Yes. I’m the owner,” said Emily.

  “Well, I’ve got a few paintings in my collection I’d quite like you to have a look at.”

  “You thinking of selling?”

  “Maybe. But I’d like your opinion on them?”

  “Well, I mainly deal in contemporary art. New young artists. This exhibition was a bit of a change for me. I’m not really an expert on any particular period or school of painting.”

  “No problem. It’s mostly new stuff. American and European. And I’ve got a Charles Marion Russell just like you.” said Keate, “Drop by my place sometime this week and have a look.”

  “You’ve got a Russell. Wow. I’d love to see it,” said Emily. “Do you live locally?”

  “I live in Snowmass Village. If you don’t mind the drive.”

  “I might have some time later in the week,” said Emily. “But I thought you were living in Europe.”

  “Been reading the gossip magazines?”

  Emily blushed a little, a slight flash of pink illuminating her golden skin from behind. “I may have flicked through one in my Dentist’s office.”

  Keate laughed. “Your dentist’s office. You must be there fairly often to have such a beautiful smile.”

  “I try and look after myself.”

  “It’s working,” he replied. “And, yeah, I do live in Europe for some of the year.”

  “So you’re just back for the summer?”

  “I come and go when I please.”

  Katarina finally came over, at last picking up on the fact that Emily wanted rescuing from Keate.

  “There’s a phone call for you Emily.”

  “Okay, thanks.” said Emily, “Mr Keate, this is my assistant Katarina. She can look after you. She’s very knowledgeable.

  Keate’s eyes lit up as he looked at Katarina, “Well Steamy Springs sure is full of beautiful girls.”

  “Thank you,” said Katarina, “But I’m not local, I’m from Germany.”

  “Germany huh? Not too far from where I live in Switzerland. What part are you from?”

  “Bavaria.”

  “”How long have you been in town?”

  “Just a few months or so…”

  Emily smiled, left the other two talking, and went to her office to pretend to answer the non-existent phone call.

  When she returned to the Gallery floor, Keate had left, and Katarina was sitting behind her desk, looking at the screen of an iMac, a smile a mile wide on her face.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So what did he say?” asked Emily.

  “Oh. Nothing much. He wants the two of us to go up to his lodge in Snowmass.”

  “The two of us?”

  “Yes. Both of us.”

  “Did he leave a card or something?”

  “He left his address and phone number. Are you thinking of going?”

  “He’s got some paintings which might be interesting to look at. I’m always on the lookout for new stuff.”

  “It would be a work trip, wouldn’t it?”

&
nbsp; “A work trip. That’s right,” said Emily, “It would be good for us to get out of the Gallery occasionally. We’ve been stuck here every day for the last nine weeks because of the exhibition.”

  “We need to buy some new pieces.”

  “That’s right. Why not. Maybe I’ll phone him tomorrow. Find out a little bit more about the paintings.”

  “That sounds good,” said Katarina, nodding in agreement.

  The two women had been so fascinated by Keate that they’d failed to notice the other customer in the Gallery. They’d caught site of him now though. Middle aged, wearing a black suit and sunglasses, close cropped dark hair contrasted against pale white skin. He seemed to be interested in the Charles Marion Russell painting as well. Very interested.

  Emily gestured for Katarina to go over and talk to him, as she wandered back to her office, lost in a thoughts about what their trip to Snowmass might entail.

  Chapter Two

  Emily unzipped her pencil skirt and hung it back in the closet. She put her blouse into the washing basket, quickly followed by her bra and panties. She was glad to be out of them. She preferred to dress more casually, but she had a lot of wealthy clients at the Gallery, and it just seemed more appropriate to make a bit more of an effort.

  The shower was already on, the water just warm, but perfect to wash away the heat and stickiness of summer and leave her feeling refreshed. She shampooed and conditioned her long dark hair, and rinsed it with plenty of water. She lathered herself all over, her hand running along the taught curves of her body, her breasts firm, her nipples erect in the cool stream spraying from the shower head.

  She stepped out of the shower and dried herself thoroughly with a large fluffy towel. She pulled her hair onto one shoulder in a loose ponytail, and lay down on the bed next to Katarina.

  Katarina was lying on her stomach, flicking through the pages of a magazine, her even tanned skin glowing in the soft light of the bedside lamp, her golden hair falling gently onto her shoulders, her smooth, peach like butt cheeks dancing gently as she giggled over something she had just read.

  Emily stroked the small of her back and ran her fingers up along the curve of her spine, massaging her shoulder blade, before coming to rest on the back of her head. She pulled her gently towards her, and they kissed softly and merrily.

  Katarina manoeuvred herself onto her side, moving closer to Emily, and put her top leg onto her lovers bottom. She stroked her back and nuzzled her face into Emily’s still damp hair. She smelled good. Fresh and clean, and silky smooth to the touch.

  The two women lay for a while enjoying the warmth of their bodies against each other, and chatting about their day. “Are you really going to go and see Jack Keate in Snowmass?”

  “I guess so. Why not?” replied Emily.

  “You know what he wants, don’t you?”

  “Of course. He wants to bed the both of us. Probably at the same time. A threesome.”

  “You up for that?”

  “Probably not. I’ve not done anything like that before.”

  “But you’re fairly liberated aren’t you. You like…”

  “Yeah. I like guys and girls. But one at a time. And not really like that. I need to feel something for the person I’m with.”

  “You don’t feel anything for Jack?”

  “He’s cute looking. But he just seemed a bit too much, you know?”

  “I thought he was really cute.”

  “Go for it girl.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “I’d be a little bit jealous, maybe. But I can’t really say anything, can I? I have got a boyfriend as well.”

  “When’s Jake coming to see you?”

  “It was meant to be this weekend, but I’m not sure. He’s busy at work on his paintings, and I don’t really want to disturb him when he’s in full-flow like that.”

  “Do you ever think of moving back to San Francisco?”

  “Sometimes, but I like it here in the mountains. It’s home.”

  “Would he move here?”

  “Not at the moment. The art scene in Steamy Springs can’t really match San Francisco. He’s too into his career right now. Maybe one day.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Of course,” said Emily, “but we’re both free spirits. We’ve got a kind of open relationship, but if I marry anyone someday, I hope it’ll be him. You understand, don’t you?”

  “I understand,” replied Katarina, “I’m the same. I mean, I like you, of course. And there are so many hot girls around. But, I’ll end up marrying a guy.”

  “I’m hot for you too, honey. And if I ever do decide to give up men, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” laughed Katarina, “So, let’s make out.”

  They lay side by side and stroked each other. Emily ran her palm along Katarina’s thigh and up over her bottom. Their breasts touched, nipple to nipple, and the sensation sent happy electric currents through their bodies.

  Katarina lowered her head and took Emily’s breast in her mouth, caressing her nipple with her tongue, cupping her breast in her hand, and guiding it in and out of her mouth. Sucking tits was okay for her. Better than eating pussy. She loved sucking generally, especially cock.

  Emily lay back and let Katarina make love to her. She loved the feel of a woman against her. There was a tenderness and closeness being with a girl that was altogether different than being with a man. The two couldn’t be compared. They were different. Each wonderful in there own way. But different. Sometimes she preferred the touch of a girl. Soft and gentle and intimate in the way that only girlfriends could be. But other times, her body needed the harder, rougher feel of a man. She needed to be held closely in his powerful arms, feel his bulk against her, his weight pinning her to the bed. His cock deep inside of her. She felt it was a shame that she lived in a world where she was expected to choose. It was like choosing between sweet or salty, chocolate or french fries, both tasted good, and the world would be a less enjoyable place if forced to give one of them up.

  Katarina’s lips began to move lower down Emily’s body until she reached the lovely trimmed lawn of hair that pointed like an arrow towards her beautiful secret place. Emily moaned slightly as Katarina prised her legs gently apart and buried her face between them.

  Her tongue explored the moist folds of Emily’s pussy, searching for a way into the velvet cave that lay beyond. Seemingly eager to feel it’s lusciousness against her mouth, to enjoy it’s feel and taste.

  Emily massaged her own breasts, tweaking her nipples, keeping them erect and sensitive, heightening her excitement, her upper body demanding the same as was being felt lower down. Both parts connected by intense shimmers of pleasure which were engulfing her entire torso.

  Katarina pulled back the hood of skin covering Emily’s clitoris, glanced her fingertip against it, and felt Emily’s legs tighten around her head. Pushing the magic button always got a reaction. It was like a woman’s body was a wonderful, beautiful machine. One touch of the pink button fired it up and sent an electrical current whizzing around it’s circuits.

  Emily put one hand on Katarina’s head, ensuring she stayed between her legs, and her other hand grasped hold of the bed sheet, needing to have something to hold onto lest she get carried away too far and too quickly.

  As Katarina continued between her lovers legs, Emily could resist it no longer. She could feel the warmth rising in her. A fire from within that was spreading out along each and every nerve fibre, overwhelming her with it’s intense, euphoric heat.

  She was there, and she twisted her head to one side and buried it in the pillow, her mind caught somewhere between elation and an almost trance-like otherworldliness. It was a type of transcendence. A removal from the real world. A glimpse of paradise.

  She pulled Katarina up against her, and kissed her tenderly. They lay in each other’s arms until, finally, Emily drifted off to sleep.

  Katarina got out of the bed, pla
ced the quilt over Emily and went downstairs to the kitchen. She poured a glass of water from the fridge, took a large mouthful, swirled it around her mouth, gargled, and then spat it out in the sink.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, picked up the phone, and waited impatiently for her call to be answered, checking the door nervously, making sure that Emily wasn’t coming down the stairs. Finally, someone picked up the phone.

  “She’s sleeping,” said Katarina, “The Bitch let me eat her pussy out, and gave me nothing in return. Don’t worry, everything will be okay… I’ll make sure she does it…I’ll phone you in a few days…love you.” And then she put the phone down and went back to bed.

  Chapter Three

  Emily was up early, made breakfast for them both - cereal, slices of watermelon and orange, toast and coffee - and took it back upstairs to bed where they ate it whilst chatting about what they had to do during the day.

  Emily sipped her coffee and watched Katarina eat a slice of melon. There was something sensual about the way she devoured the red flesh, and it made her think of how Katarina had sucked on her pussy the night before. At the same time, she was slightly bemused that she was with her, here and now, in bed, the morning after. She had been with other girls before, of course. She’d known from a young age that she was attracted to both sexes but, apart from teenage crushes on some older girls at school, her girl-hots had never amounted to anything. It wasn’t until she’d left home at eighteen to go to art college in San Francisco that she’d finally got to experience that particular forbidden fruit. She’d had four wonderful years of freedom, enjoying her youth and her sexuality in one of the most liberal, anything goes, exciting cities on earth. There had been numerous girls and boys during that time, and more since, and she wondered whether she’d ever settle on one sex or the other. Until she met Jake, that was. He was a year older than her. One of the stars of the college. An incredibly talented artist, and, almost unbelievably, a nice guy with it. Nice in the sense of sweet natured, not in the sense that her parents would particularly approve of him. He was typical of the milieu from which he sprang. Son of hippy parents from the West Coast. He’d been brought up in a kind of counter-culture artist’s colony where the normal rules of conservative society held no sway. It was this ease with diversity that attracted her to him, and it was also the reason she felt comfortable continuing to have relationships with other girls. She would never cheat on him with another guy, but being with a girl didn’t feel like cheating. It was, as she’s reasoned, just wanting to taste something sweet after gorging on the main course.