Date: Wed, 2 Oct 2013 19:42:16 -0400 (EDT)
From: bigrimmstales
Subject: The Bag Lady And The Domme Chapter 4

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The Bag Lady And The Domme Chapter 4 - Jessica discovers the truth about
hubby
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I  had needed to think hard about the ramifications of all that had
happened in the  past week. This had not been the vacation I had expected, far from
it. To help  me reflect I had put Clarissa in the spare guest suite, away
from me for a whole  24 hours. It had been so difficult, just seeing her for
short periods of time,  her lithe naked body padding across the landing or
bathed in a silk robe as she  helped herself to food. I did not even dine
with her, so important was it to me  that I have my thinking time. However,
nothing could stop the insatiable `itch'  that needing scratching. I knew I
could not go back, only forward. I was an  insatiably sexually demanding and
dominant female. It had been expressed via my  work, and perhaps in my early
marriage, but I needed more; much more. I needed  Clarissa to love and adore
me, I wanted to explore the secret world of The Group  and to be, as they
had made explicit in a letter that had arrived, a member of  their `executive'
 with full privileges.
I had trawled the secure internet  site that featured The Group, its
constitution and its practices. Some of them I  knew were not for me, but I was
constantly drawn to the features on bi-sexual  play and not just of the women,
but the men at play too. I thought of Johnnie  and my fantasy, which had
become a recurring dream whenever I dozed off. This  had been often in the
past hours, as a type of exhaustion seemed to have  overtaken me until that
point where the decision was made.
"Hello!" came the  disconnected voice from below. "Mrs. Harmondon-Smithers?
"
I recognized the  thick Czech accent of my maid. She was back! Well, I
smiled to myself; she was  in for a treat. I dashed to Clarissa's room, pushing
open the door to be greeted  by an amazing sight. My lover, my submissive,
my best friend was up on all  fours, her arse facing me and her fingers
plunging in and out of her sopping wet  pussy. I had no time for this.
"Get up you slut! Anya is here. I want you in  the kitchen in 10 minutes
sharp.  You are to come down the stairs, naked. I  hope you have shaved your
pussy as I want you to come sit on one of the bar  stools with your legs
open, like the slut you are. Got it?"
I could see she  had been interrupted right at the height of her pleasure.
I laughed, then  scowled, as she failed to answer me.
"Got it?" I snapped, using an imperious  tone.
"Yes, er, yes Mistress," she replied, her voice weak and quavering.
`Good,' I thought, `that will make her more hungry for what I have
planned.'
"10 minutes, no more, no less."
I walked fast, almost ran, back  to my room and reached for the silk robe I
had placed out for myself that  morning. I was suddenly aware of my breasts
swinging freely, the cool on my  shaven pussy and the delightful feeling of
being totally naked on this wonderful  warm day in England. No, I was the
mistress of the house, why did I need to  dress in front of my staff?
I walked silently down the gently curving spiral  staircase, a massive
feature of this multi-million pound house to make a grand  entrance into the
hall. Anya was at the bottom of the stairs, bent over looking  into her bags. I
could never fathom why she needed so many suitcases when she  went home to
her village near Prague. However, that was the least of my thoughts  as I
was currently being presented with long slim legs, so straight and well
muscled. They were topped by diaphanous white panties encasing the most
beautiful bottom. Her dark blue skirt was so short it had failed miserably to  hide
the lovely peachy bum cheeks of a classically beautiful Czech woman.
"Nice view!" I said, instantly feeling wetness seep between my engorging
labia.  I knew I was excited, not least by the sensuality of being naked,
but even more so knowing this woman lusted after me and was now going to get
turned on by me, her employer and ergo, her naked Mistress.
She snatched at  the hem of her skirt, suddenly aware like a schoolgirl
still not confident with  her sexuality that it was too short and tried to pull
it down as she stood and  turned towards me. She was rooted there, mouth
open, her right hand  subconsciously straying to brush at her breast, her left
to hover over her pussy  area. I smiled, keeping direct contact with her
wide open eyes. So beautiful, I  realised. Her nipples were hardening behind
the bright yellow T-shirt she wore  and her tongue was gently wetting her
full lips. I watched those sexy eyes scan  my nudity, taking in my large
breasts, my motherly hips and the blatant  sexuality of my shaven pussy. She was
banqueting on my beauty, something I had  at last admitted to myself. I was
not only beautiful, but powerful too, and I  was going to seize all the
advantages to be taken from those facts.
"Come,  come greet your Mistress," I invited warmly, holding open my arms
as I advanced  towards her, giving her no time to back away or evade my
clutches. I pressed  myself to her, giving her a kiss on the lips that was
totally unambiguous and  feeling our large breasts press hard against each other.
But then I broke away.  "Come to the kitchen, let's hear about your visit
home and your journey," I  continued, giving her absolutely no choice that
she was coming to sit down.
I  held her hand, which she gripped extremely tightly I noticed, and led
her to sit  at the big oak table in the kitchen. I fussed about getting the
tea and some  croissants organized, ensuring that she was able to watch me at
all times. I  knew my pussy was glistening and my teats were rock hard with
arousal. I'm sure  the air was thick with the smell of my pussy and if I was
not mistaken her  bouquet was beginning to meld with mine. She was silent,
unable to speak.
"I  hope you don't mind my nakedness?" I asked, standing right in front of
her as I  played with my nipples in a gesture designed to draw her eyes to
my engorged  tits. I didn't wait for an answer, but urged her on. "So what
have you got up to  in the past few weeks?"
"I-I-I just saw my folks for the first few days," she  faltered, her eyes
never leaving my breasts now as I continued to play with the  nipples,
teasing her.  "Then I went to stay with Ludmilla, the au pair who  works with the
Columbines at number 12?"
"Ah yes, the one with the extremely  perky breasts? Always wears a tight
T-shirt and no knickers under her extremely  short skirts? Is that the one?" I
enquired in as matter-of-fact way as I could  muster, while internally even
more turned on as I thought about that sexy  girl.
"Er, I don't know about..."
I put a finger to my lips, gesturing her  to be silent, and then spoke. "It'
s alright; you are with me now. I've noticed  her many times and a friend
saw her finger-fucking someone in the bushes by the  Lido. I do not approve
of that behavior," I said sternly, then continued.  "Leaving children
unattended whilst she fucks is just not on. Surely one of you  could have minded
for her, or were you fucking too?"
She was silent, head  slightly bowed though her eyes still were fixed on my
tits.
"I'll take that  as a yes?"
"Yes, ah, no...it depends..."
"It depends on what precisely?" I  asked, sensing blood as I put on my
most dominant voice. I waited out the  silence.
"It depends on whether it was Gerta. She was my Swedish lover but  she left
for Gothenburg 6 months ago and besides..."
She trailed off, as if  she could not bring herself to say the next bit. I
stirred her tea, knowing she  liked two sugars, and waited for her reply. I
was not going to speak first.
She burst into tears, just at the moment that Clarissa entered the room,
naked and looking so beautiful with the sun streaming in from the garden onto
 her stunning model's body. God those tits with their big rings piercing
the  teats, wow! I gestured her to sit on one of the bar stools that meant she
was  raised above my maid and only a few feet away. She knew exactly what
to do,  keeping her knees well apart. She put her feet on the lower rest,
just like a  guitar player, although with her posture it would have been a
cello that fitted  better.
Anya had not noticed her, the tears were streaming from her eyes. I  stood
beside her, bending to clutch her head to my bosom and gave her soft words
of encouragement; willing her to get the deep hurts and sadness out of her.
"There, there, hold me tightly...Besides what?" I coaxed, urging her to
say  more, while I pressed my hot breasts closer to her.
She sniffled, "I fell in  love with another woman...it just happened...but
she did not want me...er...did  not know I loved her and it just got tense
with Gerta. She knew something was  going on."
I let my hand stroke her back, with every stroke circling lower  and lower,
until I was touching the small of her spine and the tops of that firm
arse. Meanwhile my breasts were thrust into her face, the nipple of my left
breast almost offered to her soft pouting lips. I felt the dribble of my juice
down my inner thigh. Yes, I could smell her bouquet, pungent in the air as
it  mixed less subtly now with mine. She was aroused and yet sad, such a
submissive  quality.  Ok, let's go for it.
"It was me you fell in love with, wasn't  it?" I asked gently.
I heard her gasp, her heart almost stopping I guessed. I  also heard
Clarissa sigh, not with resignation but something else I sensed. More  silence, as
my hand continued its caress and my naked breasts wanted her to  suckle on
me like a mother soothing her newborn.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, as if  a great weight had just been lifted from her
heart, and her arms encircled my  nakedness, just as a child might when
running to mummy for safety. And in my  impulsive, motherly state, I grasped my
breast; pushing the teat into her mouth,  urging her to suck as pulses like
little electric shocks radiated out from that  tit and then converged to
focus on my clitoris which was no longer hidden. I let  my hands roam freely
over her as she suckled, sliding to her front and grasping  her ample right
tit in my hand. I liked its firmness the achingly hard nipple  that was
clearly pierced with a small ring of some description. All this as she  continued
to suck on me as if she could draw milk. `If only she could,' I  thought,
but then I was distracted by another idea, `I need to take firm  control'.
It took a lot of willpower, believe me.
I broke away, prying her  mouth from my teat, leaving a string of saliva
that eventually broke as I moved.  My wet nipple was so engorged there was no
way I could hide my pleasure, but I  had other things to accomplish. I stood
up, unblocking the view of Clarissa who  like the faithful slut she was had
her legs wide apart to show her perfectly  shaven pussy, its lips engorged
and her clitoris unmistakably outside its little  folds with the gold bar
stretching the bloated head. The jewelry at her labia  glistened in the sun. `
Beautiful,' I caught myself thinking, again.
Anya  stared past me, shocked. Then I saw that familiar glint in her eye
that I now  knew to be lust. She was a slut! One minute I was her total source
of love and  devotion and then along comes another honey pot to dip into. I
laughed, smiling  madly at them both.
"Anya, meet Clarissa," I announced. "She is my submissive  little slut and
if you accept my proposition you will happily share our life  with her. She
is staying here and will be treated as my guest but also shared as  a
plaything."
Anya stood, Clarissa maintained her position. How obedient I  realised
Clarissa was, so well trained. The Czech extended her hand to greet my  subbie,
but I was not allowing such a formal greeting.
"Clarissa, give Anya a  hug and greet her in the way I want you to greet
each other."
I saw a slight  frown on Clarissa's brow, as if unsure, but then her
eyebrows raised and it  dawned on her. She knew exactly what to do. She was like
the Venus Fly Trap. As  Anya approached, getting closer between her still
open legs, she grasped the  outstretched hand, smiling. Then her legs closed
around my maid and she pulled  her firmly to her, planting at the same time a
hard, erotic kiss on her lips  that Anya was unlikely to forget. Believe me,
that model's kisses are  unbelievably sensual and erotic. And she kept her
there in that embrace, her  hands sliding over the young woman's body, and
ending up grasping her arse  cheeks as she said, "Welcome to Mistress's
perfect world. We are both her  slaves, to do with as she likes, yes?"
"I - I - don't..."
"She has not  heard my conditions yet, Clarissa," I interjected, my tone
slightly scolding. I  continued, noticing that my subbie was still holding
her in that tight embrace,  her fingers slipping quietly under the white
diaphanous drawers to touch  somewhere now wet with her juice and Anya was
accepting it; moving into her, and  opening her legs to give greater access.
"Stop kissing her, slut," I snapped,  not addressing it to one of them in
particular as they both could hold that  title. They stopped, with my maid
turning her head awkwardly to pay attention to  me. I continued. "Anya, I
know you have wanted me for some time and I did not  notice. However, if you do
want me there are conditions as to how you can  achieve that. There will be
rules, as follows: One, you are to go naked around  the house except when
the children are home but in front of my husband when he  is here. Two, you
are to be smoothly shaven on and around your cunt at all  times. Three you
are to be available as a slave to others (male and female) as I  command.
Four, you will accept that you will not work here for free but will  take your
regular salary plus 10%. The fifth condition is that you undertake to
maintain absolute secrecy but also will scout for new recruits, especially from
those gorgeous nannies you work with. Do you accept the terms?"
Anya broke  away from Clarissa, turning fully to face me. I had not
expected what happened  next, but silently she took the hem of her T-shirt in her
hands and lifted it  over her head. I watched as her ample breasts, now
released from their binding,  bounced like jelly moulds so wonderfully in front
of me, then settled.  So  firm, so pert with pierced nipples adorned with
little rings of gold. I sighed  with desire, even more so as the teats were
huge and erect. I had not realised  this from just feeling them, but they were
wide and now extremely long.   Perfect. Then the skirt was unzipped and the
tiny hook untied. She let it drop  to the floor and stood there in just the
white panties which, given their  diaphanous material, had no function other
than aesthetics. Her pussy was jet  black and sprouting around the
knickers. It hid her sex. I did not like that. I  had noticed too as she raised her
arms how the hair bushed copiously in her  armpits. However, on this score I
was changing my mind.
"Anya, you are to  keep your underarm hair, but that bush is shameful!
However, I add a sixth  condition. In summer you will wear sleeveless tops so
that your armpits are on  show," I said, smirking to myself as I knew as a
woman how that would be an  embarrassment to her, but a turn-on for many men
and I had to admit, one for me  too. Johnnie loved to see me bushy and for so
long I had followed the fad for  shaving it off ignoring his wishes. Maybe,
I thought, I might strike out for  women and revert to no shaving. Though my
pussy was another matter, I liked it  depilated. "Now, take off those
panties; a rule about which makes the magical  seventh condition."
She slipped the panties down her firm young thighs. I  caught a glimpse of
Clarissa licking her lips as she looked at our maid from  behind. Our eyes
met and she smiled. I laughed, which Anya took to be us mocking  her bush. I
watched her lower her eyes, accepting her subservience and with not  a
little embarrassment for being so untidy down there. I thought it was time to
complete my dominance.
"Anya, the seventh rule is you will not wear panties  ever again in this
house nor will you dress in trousers or shorts. The exception  will be that
you have discretion when it is your periods, but you know as well  as I that
good feminine hygiene means those things," and I emphasized my  new-found
disdain for them, "are unnecessary and to be banned. Do you agree to  these
conditions, because in exchange you will have my adoration and access to  so
much sexual fun. You will want for nothing if you serve me  well."
"Mistress," she said excitedly, her accent sounding thicker as the
emotions took over from reason, "I have wanted nothing less than this. I have
admired you, loved you, every day I have worked here. I have so wanted you to
possess me, to make me a true servant to you. I - I - found some books of
your  husband's about slavery and BDSM and have been obsessed with this.  I..."
"Anya?" I was astonished about what she had just said. "Repeat what you
have just said about Mr. Smithers, er Johnnie, the Master..." I honestly did
not  know what to call him now, though the latter title did somehow fit if I
could  only get him to join our lifestyle. I was confused.
"Please do not be angry  with me," she pleaded, dropping to her knees on
the tiled kitchen floor in  supplication. "I was cleaning in your bedroom and
found a, how do you say, bolt?  It is in the lower part of the paneling
beside the bed on Mr. Smithers's side  and seemed loose, so I tried to tighten
it with a wrench.  When I did this,  the right hand panel sprung open and
behind there is a cupboard filled with sex  toys, clothing for BDSM, books
and...it is an Aladdin's Cave!  There is  another of these on your side but it
is empty. I guess it is where the previous  owner hid his real tax accounts
from the Revenue or something. A neighbor told  me that the house had been
owned by a real rogue who was jailed eventually for  tax evasion."
I felt angry, cheated. My Johnnie who had played the innocent  and been the
boring no-sex-I'm-British husband had a secret compartment with  secret
desires and God knows how many other secrets hidden from me. I picked  Anya up
by her short jet black hair, forgetting my responsibilities as mistress.  I
was angry and, to my shame, taking it out on her. She screamed as I lifted
her  up with incredible force from the floor.
"Mistress!" Clarissa screamed,  running over, grasping my hand and with
all her strength prying my fingers  apart. "Please, she is innocent. She has
been honest with you."
I was crying,  with Anya and Clarissa both hugging me and crying too. We
looked like Antonio  Canova's The Three Graces, our naked bodies pressed close
together in love and  comfort for each other. I felt so sad, so angry, so
confused. What had Johnnie,  whom I knew I still loved but now did not trust,
been doing?
"Right," I  said, breaking the embrace, "Come with me."
I strode out of the kitchen  turned immediately up the wide spiral, with
Clarissa and Anya in hot pursuit.  They must have had an eyeful as I climbed
two steps at a time, intent on getting  into that compartment and finding
what else he had been up to. I was sweating  with anxiety and mixed emotions
that started to give way to a perverted thought;  but enough of that for now.
I stood back and watched as Anya knelt on the  floor, her naked arse high
in the air and legs more apart than perhaps was  necessary (was she
deliberately enticing me?); showing me a hairy mass with lips  struggling to be seen
inside the forest and an anal rose crowned with thick  pubic hair. `Yes,' I
thought, `that pussy hair has to go.' I could have spanked  her, the view
was just so enticing but I needed to see what was in that  cupboard.
The latch sprang as Anya wielded her wrench and automatically  light
streamed in from the store.
Anya stood back, slightly, but not enough  as I pushed past her hot naked
breasts, almost knocking her over in my urgency  to see what my husband's
secrets were. I was aware of nothing other than my  task; to find out about
this new side to my husband.
Manically I was pulling  things out of the cupboard and placing them less
than gently on the bed.  Clarissa took my hand, slowing me down as she kissed
my neck and whispered,  "Mistress, please, there must be an explanation..."
"Too fucking right there  is! He would do none of this with me and yet look
at the book cover. It's a man  fucking another man, and there, two women
fucking with one man, and here, a  woman being spanked hard by that huge
cocked man!  Didn't he think I would  have enjoyed doing..."
I stopped. Of course, he was a shy man and I was so  strong with my
opinions. He probably thought he couldn't ask me or tell me his  fantasies. Maybe I
was right too about anal, that he had `protested too much'.  But was it
because I gave an impression of being less and less interested in sex  and
more in business? I was now less sure that he was a sneaking rat who kept  dark
secrets from me. Then it dawned on me. I took Clarissa by the hand, looking
 straight into her eyes.
"Clarissa, you told me you watched me for weeks  before making contact. Did
you follow me or Johnnie?"
"No Mistress, I didn't  follow you, much."
I sensed her hand tense. Had I asked the wrong question?  Or was she being
evasive?
"Clarissa, when you say `didn't follow you' is the  `you' plural or a
reference to me?" I asked, being gentle but firm and keeping  my eyes gazing
at hers. She lowered her lids and I saw the blush of her skin.  How pretty
she looked, naked and blushing over her entire body. "Clarissa, I  want you to
be completely honest with me."
"It's a reference to you only  Mistress, Master Jonathan was followed by
me on twelve occasions on the  instructions of The Group." She said, glancing
at Anya as she realised she had  said more than she should. She continued,
softly. "He, er, he would go down the  road to Mr. and Mrs. Columbine's and
be there for the whole day. It was always  when the Au Pair had her day off
and the children were at their grandparents. He  would tell you that he was
flying to Edinburgh for the day. Still does use that  excuse I would guess."
"Anya?" I looked steely eyed at her, to see if she  knew anything from her
friend Ludmilla, their au pair. She lowered her  head.
"Ludmilla saw them once..."
"Saw them?" I snapped, interrupting her.
"Yes Mistress, she came home early from her day off and had crept quietly
into the house. She saw them in the lounge. There was a man, naked but for a
 leather mask and a mouth brace keeping his jaws open. He had a whip in his
hand.  His cock was hard and thick she said. Ludmilla stayed hidden in the
shadows of  the conservatory that links her quarters with the house. Mrs.
Columbine was  being fucked in the arse by another man whom she could not at
first recognize  but was about the build of Mr. Columbine. He was strong,
quite hairy and had a  mask on, plus another mouth brace. Then as they built up
rhythm bent over the  edge of their black leather sofa, so the second man
came up behind the one  arse-fucking Ludmilla's Mistress and slowly began to
enter him, until the two  were thrusting in unison into Mrs. Columbine. She
was screaming with pleasure  and there were grunts and groans coming from
the men. So aroused had she become  with what she was watching that Ludmilla
had inadvertently stepped closer into  the light.  Before she knew it her
eyes had locked with her Mistress's..."
She was panting slightly and had tailed off; unsure if ok to go on yet
aroused too by what she was telling me. Anya's hand had drifted to her cunt. I
could tell there was more to know about this, but where was the proof
Johnnie  was one of the men?
"Continue, slut!"
"..Yes Mistress, well Mrs. Columbine  did not stop the fucking but called
her over. The man on the back beckoned too.  Ludmilla hesitated but told me
the scene was so hot – and she is such a sexy  bitch – that she felt `obliged
' to join them. I laughed at this, because she  tried to tell me she was
afraid she would lose her job. No chance! She had them  by, er, how you say,
the er short and er curlies? No? Anyhow, she stripped off  her clothes and
the man at the back offered his cock to her that had just been  in the middle
man's arse hole. The little slut dropped to her knees and took him  straight
into her mouth," Anya said, with a hint of lust in her voice. "He  fucked
her mouth while Mrs. Columbine and her man continued their arse fuck.
Ludmilla said he was a big man and it really stretched her mouth..."
I  listened silently, now sitting on the bed with Ludmilla in front of me
and  Clarissa rubbing my neck and shoulders with the most sensual massage.
Somehow,  even if this was my husband – and so far only the thick cock fitted
with any  description of him – her ministrations were making my anger melt
away. In fact,  to the contrary, I was getting turned on.
"...Ludmilla glanced up as her  mouth was fucked but had no clue as to who
it was because all she could see was  a leather clad face and an wide open
mouth that looked more like one of those  awful blow up dolls. However, there
was cum and spittle dribbling from his chin  which she found incredibly
sexy she told me.  Most of all, she noticed his  eyes were a beautiful blue..."
Another clue! Johnnie has piercing blue eyes.  I was getting more excited;
even more so now that Clarissa's hands had strayed  to my breasts and were
lightly massaging my nipples to an incredible state of  hardness and her
mouth was kissing lightly at my neck. But also, had my Johnnie  been arse
fucking another man? The fantasy he had been unwilling to share with  me?
"As Mrs. Columbine came over the sofa edge and the man in her arse came
too, Ludmilla's masked mouth-fucker spurted deep into her throat. Much to my
friend's chagrin, it was very little, which suggested that this fuck was
near  the end of a lengthy period of cumming. However, she had no sooner sucked
him  than Mrs. Columbine called her to kiss her. The other man slowly
extracted  himself from her arse and Ludmilla could see the wide open rose, which
she  admitted she was desperate to lick out..."
"You mean rim?" I interjected,  using my newly found language.
"...Yes, to rim him. She had surprised herself  how anally obsessed she had
quickly become, but her employer wanted her to kiss  her and she guessed
she knew why. She sat up and hugged Ludmilla, her heavy  breasts meeting the
pert young titties of my friend which are nice size but not  like Mrs.
Columbine's. They kissed hard, she told me, with her Mistress delving  into her
mouth with her long pointy tongue, clearly enjoying the taste of sperm,  arse
and cock that coated Ludmilla's mouth and lips.
It was not long before  the two men had recovered and were surrounding
them, but the woman made them  kneel. Then, Mrs. Columbine ordered them both to
remove their mouth braces and  lick the two women's bodies as they embraced
and Mrs. C put her hands on  Ludmilla's pussy that was by now sopping wet.
Her smell hung in the air, mixing  with the incredibly strong scents of sex
that had clearly built up from a  mammoth session. Soon Ludmilla had a strong
tongue lapping at her little red  rose and strong manly hands were stroking
and loving her incredibly aroused  breasts. The orgasm that she had she
says was so strong and it was – incredibly  - her first taste of lesbian
loving. It turned her to bisexuality and she has  had sex many times since with
women, and every day with Mrs. C since that night  and with her husband. The
other man came only on her days off and she saw his  face only twice. It was
your Johnnie...it was Mr. Smithers...he was the one with  the thick cock
that filled Ludmilla's mouth and who licked her anus that  night.  He fucked
her always when wearing the mask. He was buggered by Mr.  C. every time and
would always complete that ritual with a whipping of his host,  as if to
punish him for making him do something taboo. However, he would then be  fucked
in the mouth by him and return the favor by doing it back, always while  Mrs.
C masturbated using her fingers or an oversized dildo or vibrator..."
I  was panting, aroused incredibly by the story and the realization my
husband did  love sex, but even more so by Clarissa whose hand was now between
my thighs  which were open and displayed to Anya. My clitoris was on fire,
hungry for her  touch, but I was also enjoying being an exhibitionist; making
Anya stare at my  excited pussy lips. I had heard enough. I gestured for her
to come eat my  pussy.  She was there like a shot, her long tongue lapping
at my lips,  dueling with Clarissa's fingers that were exciting my clitoris
and delving into  my hole. I caressed my breasts reveling in their
sensitivity and teasing the  long nipples that were so hard and gorgeous. I
fantasized about having Johnnie  rub his cock between them, spurting his cum all over
them; doing things he had  never done with me. And as I succumbed to my
lustful imaginings so my orgasm  built and built to a massive crescendo.
When I came, I screamed into the air.  It was so loud. I had gone from
anger to intense pleasure and I realised in the  erotic fog that was my brain at
that time I would confront Johnnie but in a way  that brought him on side,
not alienated him. I wanted that cock to be mine again  in a deep, loving
and sexual way. Most of all I wanted those perverted games to  be played with
me as an actor. Not least I wanted to have Mrs. Columbine too.  I'd known
her for a long time, admiring her Amazonian body, with its massive  breasts,
firm arse and long, long legs. If Clarissa had not come into my life, I
doubt I would have thought it was more than the typical curiosity of one woman
about another's body, which is why there are more nude bodies of women in
women's magazines than there are in men's. Now I realised that fascination
was  more than just inquisitiveness. Maybe she had been sending me signals
that I had  been unaware of, or vice versa? Then, as another orgasmic wave
flowed over me, I  passed out.
When I came to, all the toys and articles had been put on a  trolley by
Anya and Clarissa. They had tucked me up in bed and were kneeling  patiently at
its base.  I had no idea of the time or how long they had been  there, but
I loved them for their devotion and my incredible sense of power. I  sat up,
shuffling to the side of the bed to look at the items in a less  emotional
way than I had done before.
I started with the books....

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