There, at the entrance to the foyer, stood a woman of perhaps sixty-five years. She wore a long velvet dress despite the warm weather. Her hair dark grey sat in a loose bun atop her head, emphasizing her height and austerity. In truth, she looked quite like a witch. How suiting, in a dark house full of dark wood and dark furniture. She gave Meredith the chills.
“How do you know my name?”
The stagnant air sat like smoke in Meredith’s lungs. Why were no lights on? Holding tight to the belt of her cotton dress, Meredith wrapped the thin fabric around her wrist again and again. She flinched when the woman touched her arm.
“It’s Joyce. You don’t remember me, dear? I was the evening foreman at the factory. We met once or twice when your husband stayed late around tax time. You brought him dinner. We all razzed Jeff about that, but it was real nice of you. I always did like your husband. ‘Course, he did the payroll, so anybody who liked getting paid liked Jeff.”
Yes, this woman did look familiar.
“Goodness gracious, Joyce! Yes, of course it’s you. I’m sorry. I’ve never seen you out of your coveralls. You look lovely in that dress.”
“Well, thank you. It’s vintage. Can I take your purse and your…what is that?” Joyce pointed a bony finger at the floral fabric wrapped around Meredith’s arm.
“Oh, it’s my apron.” Meredith’s cheeks blazed.
“Don’t leave home without it, eh?”
“It’s silly. I just forgot to take it off when I walked out the door. But, Joyce, aren’t you wondering what I’m doing in your house?”
“As long as you’re not here to rob me, you’re as welcome as any visitor.” Joyce looked over Meredith’s shoulder, and a smile bled across her lips. “And speaking of welcome visitors…”
A rap sounded at the front door, and Meredith turned to ice. Silly girl, afraid of everything. “Hello, all.” Joyce greeted guests at the door.
“Oh, Joyce, let me get out of your hair. I’m intruding on your party.” Meredith apologized covered her blushing cheeks with cool hands.
“Nonsense. Meredith, dear, allow me to introduce some friends of mine: Sheena, her husband Ash, and their friend and mine, Richard.”
Meredith trusted the beautiful people implicitly, though she was usually wary of strangers. Her parents’ teachings had seeped into the very grain of her being..
After exchanging pleasantries with Sheena and Ash, Meredith offered a soft hello to the fit blond man. Richard looked familiar; maybe he worked with Jeff. Those blue eyes had Meredith on the verge of an uncontrollable giggle fit, like when she had a crush on Bobby McIlroy in grade five. Bobby had been blond too. He’d reminded her of her favorite comic book character, Richey Rich.
Goodness gracious, Meredith had a crush!
“Why don’t we go straight out back?” Richard suggested to Ash.
What a voice he had, deep and sensuous. It reverberated through Meredith’s lower regions
“You read my mind.” Ash’s accent wasn’t familiar to Meredith, but she loved the way words drizzled from his tongue. “My eyes have yet to adjust from the sunlight. I can hardly see where I am.”
Richard crossed close to Meredith, exuding a clean and masculine musk. She fought the urge to grab his arms and squeeze the gorgeous muscles peeking out beneath his T-shirt, or to leap onto his back and let him carry her outside.
Joyce stared straight at her, like a haunted painting. Meredith wondered if she might be angry until she offered a knowing smirk. Guilty as charged. Oh well, there was no harm looking.
“I need to go upstairs for a moment.” Sheena shared Ash’s unfamiliar accent. “I have to…well, you will see.”
The two women smiled slyly at one another. If they were up to something, perhaps Meredith ought to leave, but as she drew breath to offer excuses, her eyes fixed on Sheena.
Black hair fell almost to her wide hips. Sheena was small in stature, but highly curvaceous. She had the generous proportions of the women in Jeff’s magazines. Oh, he thought his collection was a secret, but Meredith found his stash in the garage. What a shock to come upon nudity in her own home. She’d stared at the gorgeous women on the magazine covers, thinking, ‘What would June Cleaver do?’ Feel angry toward Jeff for keeping pornography.
Yes, feel angry. Starting now.
No?
Perhaps if she flipped through a few of the magazines…
Jeff liked to look at this sort of woman? Fleshy creatures, like Sheena, with substantial breasts and mountainous bottoms? Their ample curves had mesmerized Meredith as she sat on the dirty garage floor. She’d spent the better part of an afternoon gazing at naked breasts, round buttocks, ripples of flesh, and reading the titillating tales and erotic escapades. What a sordid delight every time a new magazine found its way to the box. A secret delight.
If Jeff could have secrets, so could she.
Chapter Three
Meredith only realized she was gawking when Sheena spun around, catching her gaze. Goodness gracious, caught staring! What must these nice people think of her? That familiar rosy warmth took over her cheeks once again.
“I’d better get a move on,” Meredith blurted, relieved she might never see these people again. Now, where had her purse gotten to?
“No!” Sheena and Joyce both cried.
“I still need to pick up some groceries…”
“I’d hoped we might get to know each other better.” Sheena leaned against the railing at the top of the staircase. “And I have a surprise I would like you to see. Please, stay for a little while.”
How flirtatious Sheena’s smile seemed. Or was that wishful thinking? Meredith wrapped the belt of her dress around her fingers again and again.
“I really should get going,” Meredith replied so unconvincing even she didn’t believe herself..
“Why don’t you stay for a bit?” Joyce urged. “I tell you what. I could use a bit of help in the kitchen. Maybe you could give me a hand fixing some drinks and things? I would really appreciate it, if you could spare a few minutes.”
How could she say no to an older individual requesting assistance? Meredith would stay, just for a little while, to help out. The older woman set her to the task of preparing a fruit platter while she assembled a concoction of champagne, orange juice and maraschino cherries.
“Am I right in thinking you’re retired, Joyce?” Meredith cut into a long tropical fruit that looked something like a squash: green on the outside, with peachy-pink flesh and round black seeds.
“Sure enough. I’m enjoying it pretty well, too. I do some fishing, some knitting, some carpentry. I built that deck out there a few years back, and all the furniture on it. Here you go, first one’s for you.” Joyce handed her a glass of the bubbly orange mixture.
Champagne in the morning? How unusual.
Meredith grabbed the flute and took a long sip of the fizzy potion. Bubbles danced across her tongue and burst in pangs of citric sweetness. Out came the giggles she’d earlier managed to contain. The unstoppable laughter continued as she sliced mango and washed grapes. Her sides ached. When the giggles subsided, she asked Joyce a question she hadn’t wanted to ask the newcomers. Was it rude to ask people where they came from? Meredith wasn’t sure.
“Oh, they’re Sevidlam Islanders,” Joyce replied. “Richard met Sheena and Ash on vacation a few years back. He got into some legal trouble, shall we say, out there in Sevidlam. They threw the poor guy in jail, threatened to lock him up for a good long time.”
“Oh dear!” Meredith hiccupped, and quickly covered her mouth. “Excuse me.”
Joyce smiled slyly. “Oh dear, indeed. Back then, Ash worked for the Sevidlam government. He made sure Richard got released so he could come back home. Not long after that, Ash and Sheena’s island was flooded real bad. Can you imagine? Their house and everything they owned gone, just like that.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah, poor kids. They’re called ‘environmental refugees’ because an act of God
destroyed their island. They can’t go home, but since Ash worked for the government, he was treated special. With Richard’s help, the two of them came to live here in Canada.”
Of course Meredith had seen news reports covering natural disasters, but for some reason she never thought about what happened to those unfortunate people who lost everything. How terrible for Sheena and Ash.
With the drinks prepared and the fruit platter arranged, Joyce led Meredith to the back deck. Hopefully she’d learn more about Ash and Sheena, and perhaps earn another glass of that champagne concoction. When she stepped onto the expansive deck, filtered sunlight bathed her skin. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the perfume of the outdoors. Heritage roses. Their robust fragrance clung to the warm air. The atmosphere, the drink and the summer sun produced an effect of profound relaxation.
“You two didn’t waste any time,” Joyce said with a casual chuckle.
As Meredith drew her lids open, her heart nearly stopped. On a built-in bench at the opposite end of the isolated deck sat Richard and Ash—absolutely nude. Two men—two strangers—naked in Joyce’s backyard? A flutter of nervous excitement turned Meredith’s body into a battlefield. Leave! No, stay. Watch! No, go.
But how could she leave when, just a stone’s throw across the deck, Richard’s hard cock surged toward the well-defined muscles of his tight stomach? A tingle culminated at the summit of Meredith’s lower lips when Ash stroked Richard’s erection. Was this an unwelcome act? Apparently not. Richard’s hairless chest glimmered with sweat as he swept a hand across Ash’s brawny thigh. Close your mouth, young lady! You’ll catch flies.
This must have been a common occurrence, because Joyce didn’t seem surprised in the least. Meredith tried to be unnerved, offended, angered, upset at the men’s behavior, but it was impossible. Two gorgeous men lying side-by-side in the summer sun and stroking each other’s rigid shafts? June Cleaver would have been long gone, but Meredith stood in awe of the men’s breathtaking bodies, of their surging muscles, of their cocks sparkling with pre-cum. Richard and Ash didn’t seem to mind her watching, so what was the harm?
A white hand firmly took hold of a thick brown cock while a brown hand slowly jerked off the large white one. This act ought to be the new symbol of international peace and brotherhood. Two masculine males pumping each other’s stiff rods? Far more stimulating than a simple black hand shaking a white hand. A warm throb took over Meredith’s body. She clutched her fruit platter for fear she’d drop it and send porcelain and mango flying. Maintain a safe distance.
The sliding glass door closed behind Meredith and Sheena stepped into the bright sunlight. What perfect beauty. Sheena had somehow managed to affix peach-colored roses to her nipples so that her breasts culminated in fragrant blossoms. She’d secured yet another rose, a pink one, to her skimpy thong. Meredith’s mouth watered.
Sheena was a dream image, a painting, a Venus re-imagined by Paul Gauguin. She should be worshipped, more beautiful and more appealing than all the women in Jeff’s magazines. As she sauntered toward Meredith, only majestic flowers veiled Sheena’s perfection in female form.
“So that’s what you’ve been plotting,” Joyce chuckled, taking a seat in the shade.
Sheena seized a piece of pink fruit from the tray and held it before Meredith’s lips. Her heart throbbed in her pussy. She could barely keep herself upright.
“What is that?” Meredith gasped as Sheena set the succulent fruit against her lips.
“Papaya. Take a bite.”
Delicious. The soft flesh melted between her teeth, spilling sweet juice down her throat. Sheena took the platter from Meredith and turned to place it on the wooden table near Joyce. A waterfall of silky black hair cascaded down Sheena’s back, reflecting the dappled sunlight as she moved. Wide hips curved into round buttocks and sturdy thighs. Thinner calves and dainty feet lent an overall heart-shaped appearance to Sheena’s lower half. How could Meredith resist squeezing those fleshy cheeks, massaging the expanse of syrupy skin, feeling its smoothness and its warmth?
“Would you like a drink?” Sheena asked.
“Oh, yes! A drink would be heaven.” Another flute of that sweet, fizzy potion would release her from the constraints of a too-active mind. In her High School Art History class, Meredith had studied a famous etching by an artist named Goya, titled The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. But was that necessarily so? Could the sleep of reason not simply produce a glorious encounter she would never have otherwise experienced?
Champagne bubbles danced on her tongue.
Chapter Four
Summer sun stippled the backyard deck, filtering through dark branches and vibrant leaves. They overlooked nothing but the nearby ravine, the varied shades of green borne of its birches, maples, chestnuts and pines. And above them, only sky.
“My husband and Richard are such exhibitionists.” Sheena pursed her lips before giggling and tossing her hair. When she leaned her head against Meredith’s shoulder, waves of electric pleasure pulsed through Meredith’s core.
“Does it bother you?”
Sheena only smiled, wrapping an arm around Meredith’s waist. They watched the men, bodies shimmering in the sun, each grasping the other’s cock. Would it bother her, if it were her husband? Perhaps not…
“It’s getting very hot out here. Why not take off this dress?” Sheena started undoing the zipper.
A rush of joy surged through Meredith’s veins as the sensible blue dress slid to the ground. Her diaphanous slip clung to her hot flesh. Even the summer breeze couldn’t cool her now.
“I love your décolletage, Meredith,” Richard called out. He looked right at her, his child-like eyes exploring the oval of lace between her breasts. It reminded her of those stained glass rose windows in pictures of European churches.
Meredith’s sheer thrill ground to a halt when she remembered she’d slipped on a pair of ratty granny panties that morning. She would die of embarrassment if gorgeous Richard saw her wearing them. But how could she get rid of the unsightly cotton undies? Her slip wouldn’t stay on much longer, judging by the hungry look in Sheena’s eyes.
Crouching down, Meredith shimmied out of her panties, stepped from the sorry excuse for underwear, and shoved them inside the blue fabric of her dress. Rolling the garments into a ball, she shoved them, along with her shoes, under one of Joyce’s large lounge chairs. Now no one would ever know the secret of the granny panties.
Out in the summer sun, wearing nothing but her slip, Meredith felt free, like she was running through fields of wildflowers. Richard, Sheena and Ash, knew nothing about her life or her ordinary demeanor. With these new people, she could be any Meredith of her choosing. Richard’s face glowed with attraction and approval. In Sheena’s dark eyes, lust mingled with amusement in playful invitation.
“I like your slip.” Sheena brushed Meredith’s waist with her fingertips. “I would love to see what’s underneath.”
What a line, but Sheena seemed sincere, and no woman had ever spoken to her like that. Good thing her slip veiled the wetness coating her inner thighs. Her breasts felt light, like they might float away.
“I don’t even know you,” Meredith whispered.
“But I know you.” Sheena curled a strand of Meredith’s hair around her finger. “You want to keep everybody happy. Everything you do is for family, nothing is ever for you. You never make time for pleasures. For your happiness, you must make time. You must, Meredith.”
Goodness gracious, it was all true! Jeff often told her she should have hobbies, spend more time with friends, do things just for fun.
“You’re a psychic!”
Sheena smiled mysteriously, sliding the strap of Meredith’s slip off her left shoulder. The touch of Sheena’s fingertips whetted not only the appetites of her body, but of her mind. With Sheena’s help, her straps slid down her arms. The white slip fell to the ground, revealing her full nakedness. The fine white stretch marks gracing Meredith’s sizeable breasts gleamed in the sun
. She wore those tiny stretch marks with immense pride, like tattoos of her maternity.
How would it feel to be touched, intimately, by a woman? To be kissed by her? A rush of pleasure stung Meredith’s lips. A woman would know exactly what to do.
Sheena’s gaze exuded pure lust.
Well? Where was the kiss? When would Sheena pull her close and stroke her salivating pussy? Meredith’s ribs were ready to open up and pounce on the woman, swallow her whole. The anticipation was too much. No more waiting.
But to kiss Sheena, to kiss a woman, would change her forever. It would make her something different. Meredith desired a kiss without implications. Was that possible? Yes, oh yes. It must be. Darn it all, she wanted this. She wanted this kiss the way a child wants a toy. With tunnel vision. Obsessively, regardless of consequences.
Wetting her lips in anticipation, Meredith closed her eyes, surrendering blindly to desire. Bending slightly, she met the wise woman’s sweet mouth. Her skin tingled all over as warm, soft tongues danced gently, slowly. Sheena’s roses cupped Meredith’s nipples like living silk. Loose petals fell at her feet. Her body turned to fire as the passion of their kisses ignited.
The sparse tuft of hair nestled below Meredith’s navel brushed the pink rose’s tender petals. A dormant enthusiasm coiled Meredith’s spine like a snake. She pressed her breasts against the rose garden of Sheena’s body. Her leg encircled Sheena’s, and the juice of her lower lips met silky petals. The velvet centers of peach blooms embraced her nipples. Tongues battled, the heated war won by both. Pure pleasure. Censors shut down. Nothing left but longing and fulfillment.
But Meredith desired more. Her pussy ached for raw penetration, for Richard’s throbbing cock.
Oh, Richard. Did the hulking blond even like girls? He would like her. With her honey hair, slim figure, and large breasts, what man could resist? Her lower lips couldn’t contain the juice of her desire, but her wedding vows buzzed in her head like trapped bees. “Wilt thou take Jeff to be thy wedded husband…and forsaking all others, keep thee only too him…”
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