Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2000 16:57:47 -0800 (PST)
From: Selena Anders <selena33_ca@yahoo.com>
Subject: margaret-29

When Natalie and I got back to the base of the rocky peninsula, we had
to go our separate ways.  I had to get back to business, and Natalie
didn't want to be missed at the beach house.  "That girl really seemed
to like that!" she said, "I can hardly wait to show Melanie!  Thanks
Margaret!  Bye!"  And the little pixie was off running down the beach,
her fine blond hair streaming out behind, and her youthful heels
kicking up the sand.

I sighed, wishing for a moment that I had tasted the delights of my own
daughters at that age, but the thought of my daughters at their present
age called me back to the hotel.  As I approached, the door of our
downstairs showroom stood open, and I could hear Jessie's voice calling
out, "Oh Shit!  What are we going to DO?"

"What seems to be the problem?"  I asked as I walked in.

"Oh Mom!  Look at this!" Elizabeth cried and shoved a piece of paper in
my hand.

It was printed on hotel stationery, with an ink-jet printer that could
have come from anywhere.  It said, "If you ever want to see your helper
Alixia alive again, do not enter the nightwear fashion show on Friday,
or the undergarment show on Saturday."  I asked where the note came
from, and between the hysterical sobs of Jessie and Elizabeth I
gathered that they had gone out for breakfast, leaving Ali alone in the
hotel bedroom, and when they got back they found the note.

Grimly, I told the girls to leave this to me, but they would have to
help each other with makeup and other details they would have left to
Ali if she were still here.  Tearfully, hand in hand, they headed for
the shower to wash each other's hair (and no doubt other things), while
I got on the phone to hotel security.

Security was prompt, and in less than five minutes the hotel detectives
arrived.  Lana was tall and lanky, with muscles that spoke of regular
workouts.  Her shoulder-length wavy brown hair showed reddish
highlights.  Dressed in a loose-weave khaki tennis shirt and matching
shorts, knee socks and running shoes, her outfit was the perfect
compromise between professionalism and the local hot weather.

Lana did most of the talking, while the other security person stood
back with a watchful air that made me think she didn't miss much.
Rendy was heavy-set, with straight strawberry-blonde hair and piercing
blue eyes.  Her wide motherly hips gave the impression of considerable
power.

Lana examined the note, then asked me, "So we have until tomorrow
afternoon to find her, or you have to cancel out on the nightwear show,
and that could cost you thousands of bucks worth of orders."

"Maybe hundreds of thousands," I replied glumly.  "There are a lot of
heavy-hitters here, with millions to spend."

Lana was brisk, "Now why don't you get on with your business, while we
get on with ours.  Don't you worry, we'll get your young lady back."

"Oh really?  Are you sure?" Jessie squealed as she and Elizabeth
emerged from the bathroom, totally nude and totally wet from the
shower.  The two of them ran and threw themselves at the security
officers.

Jessie clung to Rendy as Elizabeth purred into Lana's ear, "If you can
get her back we'll be soooo grateful!  We really will!"  Both couples
kissed, as if it were a sort of promise of delights to cum, then the
professionals disentangled themselves from the twins, and with damp
uniforms made their way out the door, taking the note with them.

"What was that supposed to be?  Motivation?"  I demanded of the twins.

"But we really would do anything to help!"  Elizabeth protested.

"ANYthing!"  Jessie echoed.

Part of being a mother is knowing when you're beat, so I changed the
subject.  "OK, the note didn't say anything about this afternoon's
swimwear show, so we'll go ahead with that.  Each manufacturer gets
just ten minutes, and I want to show fourteen items, seven for each of
you.  Now lets make sure we know who's going to wear what, and in what
order."  For the next few hours we could almost forget about our
disappeared Alixia, as we prepared for the show.  It was supposed to
start at 1:00, but we were the seventh of eleven exhibitors, coming
right after the intermission.

The terrace outside was filling with people, and the hotel staff was
putting up two small cabanas near the tiny bridge that led onto the
long island in the pool.  The rich and powerful of the feminine
clothing business rubbed elbows just outside our little showroom,
sipping rum drinks.  A special VIP area was roped off by the pool,
closest to the island, for buyers who were ready to pay a few hundred
dollars for a ring-side seat.

The noise of the crowd grew until we heard a slight screech of feedback
from a PA system as someone adjusted a microphone, then a man's voice
started to speak.  "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Sybaris Too,
and the 13th annual convention of the National Lingerie Manufacturer's
Association.  We have a fantastic lineup for you this afternoon...."  The
man kept on saying very little, but saying it very well as people
drifted toward their seats to watch the show.  As the crowd settled
around the giant swimming pool the man's voice said, "And now it give
me great pleasure to turn the show over to our first exhibitor, Diane
Pearlman of Speedo Sportswear!"  The show had begun.

>From our ground floor show-room we couldn't see much, and we were as
prepared as we could ever be.  So we headed up to our bedroom above and
out onto the balcony, to look down on the festivities.  The two
temporary cabanas only slightly obscured our view of runway island, and
we could easily see the back sides of them as crews of models and
handlers swarmed around.  "Look, Mom!  There's LC!"  Jessie exclaimed,
and sure enough, there was my lover from the Sapphire club swaying down
the runway in a really hot racing swimsuit that was cut down to the
crack of her ass.

The styles were sexy, and the models were amazing as for the next hour
we watched the best of Jantzen, Bikini Beach, La Plage, and the rest of
the world's top swimwear names parade down that island in the pool.
Then the man came back to the podium and spoke into the microphone.
"That's it for the first half of our program folks.  When we return in
fifteen minutes, we have a brand new entry in the world of swimwear,
EROS from America!  So refill your glasses, and we'll see you then!"

Oh shit!  It was time!  We ran down the stairs and the girls grabbed
the rolling coat-rack while I snatched up my clip-board of notes.  Both
of the twins also snatched up trench coats, and for a moment I wondered
what was going on.  Why would they need coats?  But everything was in a
rush.  It was too late to ask questions now.  The twins pushed the rack
out of our room and toward one of the change-room cabanas, while I made
my way through the crowd to the base of the podium.  There, a man who
reminded me of Sean Connery said, "Ah, you must be Margaret from Eros!
I hope you'll be ready in 30 seconds.  Time's a-wasting!"  And with
that he bounded up the four steps of the podium and bent toward the
mike.  "Welcome back!  Welcome back to the second half of our program
for this afternoon, and let's have a big welcome for a brand new entry
into our celebrations, Margaret from EROS!"

Somehow I made it up the steps and set my notes down on the lectern.  I
glanced toward the cabana where I expected to see Jessie waiting to be
introduced, but she wasn't there!  We only had ten minutes and my
daughter wasn't there!  Damn!  The only thing I could do was introduce
the swimsuit, and pray.  "Hi everyone!  The first swimsuit this
afternoon is the candycane!  Notice the choker neckline, and the
spirals of pink nylon tricot, alternated with sheer white mesh!
Guaranteed to get you thrown off almost any beach in America, or
arrested for indecent exposure!"

Where the heck was Jessie???  I began to panic, then a loud splash
echoed from the pool.  Jessie's experience as a racing swimmer showed
as she torpedoed across the pool toward the end of runway island.  With
the grace of a natural athlete she slithered out of the pool, and
swaggered, dripping, past the assembled VIP buyers.

Not one of the previous swimwear models had a drop of water on her, but
here was my daughter with one excited pink nipple thrusting forth
against the transparent white mesh stripe of our first swimsuit,
totally and proudly sopping wet!  The crowd went crazy, wanting to see
more of EROS' new marriage between traditional lingerie, and swimwear.
Next was Elizabeth, also plunging into the pool, but swimming with a
more languid backstroke toward the island, to show off the inverted
bikini.  As she climbed out of the water I explained to the crowd,
"This little number was inspired by the sheriff of Sand county.  He
decided that local decency laws require bikinis to cover at least half
of a woman's buttock cheeks.  So this one does that.  It just doesn't
cover the half that the sheriff had in mind!"  There was huge applause
as Liz wiggled her ass in all directions, showing off the bikini that
covered only the lower outside of her bum, leaving her crack completely
exposed.  Even better, in front it nicely framed her pretty pink slit
and little patch of pubic hair, while concealing nothing.

I lost track of the rest of my presentation.  Somehow my athletic
daughters managed to change each time then run around to a different
point on the edge of the pool, always emerging at the end of runway
island to show off their outfits dripping wet.  When the ensemble
included a little lace or sheer coverup, the fabric clung to their sexy
young bodies to reveal even more explicitly the tiny swimsuits
underneath.

I got to the last item on my list.  Everyone looked around, wondering
where the miracle model would come from next.  Some people still didn't
realize that they had been watching twins, and thought we had done the
whole show with a single model.  I looked around and didn't see either
of my daughters, but I closed my eyes and muttered to myself, "have
faith."  Then I told the microphone, "And here is the latest fabric
from our research department, the holographic swimsuit!  Now you see
her!  Now you don't!"

And for the first time that afternoon, Jessica and Elizabeth actually
came down the runway in the official direction, from the bridge.  With
their arms around each other's waists and their other hands waving to
the cheering crowd they walked down the runway, letting the sunlight
reveal or conceal their bodies through the miracle cloth.  At the end
of the island they turned and faced each other, and kissed.  They
kissed long and hard, then turned and dove together into the pool and
swam away.  I had nothing to add to that, so I stepped down from the
podium and winked at Mr. Voice of Sean Connery, before making my way
back to the cabana to collect the discarded swimwear.
_________

Dearest Readers, I realize that I just wrote a story in which not a
single tit got licked or cunt got fucked.  I'm trying to learn to write
sexy stories, and decided to try to write one without any overt sex.
Please let me know what you think.

From the last few episodes, Melanie and Natalie and Lori and Sue and
Lesa are all real readers or their friends, so if you are female and
would like to be in a Margaret story, write to me and I will do my
best.  Love,   Selena