Black Orchid

by Roxanne Carr

  Dismissing the line up, she made her way to her office where she was met by a very agitated Hilary.

  'Hilary! Whatever are you doing here this time in the morning?'

  'You might well ask!'

  Maggie glanced at her in surprise as she opened the door. Two hectic spots of colour stood out on the woman's normally pale cheeks and she could not seem to stand still. A burning cigarette was clamped between her fingers in defiance of the club's no-smoking rule.

  'You'd better come in.'

  Once inside, Hilary paced to the window and back again before confronting Maggie. She waved her cigarette around as she spoke, as if to emphasise every word.

  'I entrusted my daughter into your care!' Hilary launched into speech, clearly upset.

  'I didn't see Emily when she left, I—'

  'I don't suppose she wanted you to see her!' Hilary interrupted. No doubt she thought you would have tried to stop her leaving if you had.'

  'Didn't it go well?' Maggie asked, worried that her instincts in choosing Brett for Emily had been wrong.

  'Go well?' Hilary's voice rose an octave. 'Go well? Yes, it went all right. Too bloody well!' She broke off, as if she had explained enough.

  Maggie felt completely bewildered. Frowning, she said, 'I'm sorry, Hilary, but I'm not following you.'

  'Emily telephoned me this morning, early. She's in Cornwall at our weekend cottage with this . . . this man you introduced her to!'

  Maggie went hot, then cold as the implications of what Hilary was saying sank in.

  'With Brett? But they can't be. Brett's under contract to the club.'

  'So much for that!' Hilary snorted, her normally musical voice flat with agitation. 'This Brett character clearly has no sense of responsibility. And you've let him run off with my daughter!'

  'Now Hilary,' Maggie said soothingly, 'let's have a cup of coffee together and talk this through. Believe me, I'm just as stunned as you are.'

  Hilary allowed herself to be steered towards the lemon chintz sofa, crossing her legs elegantly as Maggie rang for coffee to be brought up. She seemed a little calmer as they sipped in silence. By the time she placed the little cup and saucer back on the coffee table, she had regained much of her usual poise.

  'I owe you an apology,' she said unexpectedly, waving away Maggie's polite protest. 'No, I do. Emily is quite old enough to be responsible for her own actions. It was ridiculous of me to accuse you of negligence! And if the man had been holding her against her will, she would have hardly phoned to tell me, would she?'

  Maggie smiled slightly at the thoroughly unlikely idea of Brett kidnapping Emily. The smile was wiped off her face as Hilary continued.

  'I think it was all this talk of being in love which panicked me. I mean, she's spent one night with this man, and already she's hinting at wedding bells and happily ever after!'

  'What?'

  Maggie thought of Brett, naked, dripping wet and half-drowned in bubbles in the Jacuzzi. Anger, regret, jealousy – all shot through her in quick succession. She closed her eyes, briefly. When she opened them again, she saw that Hilary had dropped her elegant, cropped head into her hands and was crying softly.

  'Hilary?'

  Maggie instinctively went to sit beside her on the sofa, laying one hand on her shoulder in an awkward gesture of comfort.

  'I'm sorry. It's just that I was so worried. Emily's all I've got, she's my baby. She's never done anything like this before!'

  She began to sob quietly and Maggie put her arms around her shoulders, drawing her head under her chin. Patting her back comfortingly, she waited until the worst was over, wrapped up in her own thoughts. Gradually, she became aware that Hilary's head had dropped to her breast and rested there.

  Maggie stroked the short, red-gold hair. It crackled with life under her fingers, picking up the sunlight which streamed through the window so that it looked as if it had caught fire. Fascinated, Maggie touched her lips against the top of Hilary's head. Her hair felt like silk against the soft skin of her lips, lightly fragranced like fresh peaches.

  Slowly, without a word passing between them, Hilary's head turned so that her face was buried in the warm valley between Maggie's generous breasts. Maggie was wearing a soft cream silk blouse over a lacy camisole which laced with ribbons up the front. Her breasts swelled as Hilary's mouth brushed across them, the nipples thrusting wantonly against the flimsy confines of the inadequate camisole.

  Beneath the tight red skirt and lace panties, Maggie felt a familiar stirring. She hadn't expected this, not from Hilary, yet she welcomed it, eager for another taste of a woman's softness. This time there would be no coercion, no casually inflicted pain, just a slaking of the lust which was quickly gaining hold of her. Reaching under Hilary's head, she cupped her chin in her palm and raised her head.

  Hilary's face was very pale, her usually immaculate make-up streaked with tears. Her mascara had smudged slightly and Maggie wiped away the black stain with the pad of her thumb. A few fine lines around her eyes was the only clue that she was past the first flush of youth, and the years sat lightly on her. The wide blue eyes sparkled with her recent tears, the small, soft mouth tremulous as Maggie's eyes rested on her lips.

  'Undress for me, Hilary,' she whispered.

  Hilary stood immediately and began to unfasten the buttons on the jacket of her soft lilac suit, her eyes never leaving Maggie's face. The jacket slipped off her shoulders and she threw it carelessly at the coffee table where it slithered to the floor. The short, tight skirt eased over her slender hips and was kicked aside.

  Underneath, Hilary wore an oyster coloured, full-length bra slip in silk satin. Beneath that, nothing. Maggie's eyes were drawn to the shadow between her thighs which was tantalisingly visible through the thin fabric.

  Hilary's long legs were bare, disappearing into plain, high-heeled courts dyed the same pale lilac as her suit. She wore a heavy perfume which Maggie vaguely recognised. It reached out to her, enveloping her in its heady scent.

  Without a word, Maggie stood and shed her own blouse and skirt, facing Hilary dressed in nothing but her lacy white camisole and matching briefs, black hold-ups and strappy high-heels. Both women smiled before stepping forward.

  Hilary felt light in her arms as they kissed, their tongues already parrying hotly. Running her hands down the other woman's arms, Maggie admired the taut flesh, kept young by exercise and careful diet. She knew the rest of her body would be in the same condition and felt a thrill of delicious anticipation as she imagined the exploration to come.

  They broke apart to shed what remained of their clothes until they were both naked, apart from Hilary's shoes and Maggie's hold-ups and sandals. Each pair of hungry eyes raked the opposite body. Hilary's breasts were small, almost conical in shape, crowned by nipples of the palest pink, hardened like two small buttons. Beneath her breasts, her stomach was gently rounded, the skin perfect but for a fine tracery of stretch marks which did nothing to detract from her beauty.

  The soft, curling hair between her legs was the same bright gold as that on her head. They were of a similar height in their high heels and as they each stepped forward again, as if of one accord, Maggie's full, softly rounded breasts swayed against Hilary's.

  Maggie gasped as their nipples touched and Hilary's slim arms came about her waist.

  'Oh yes!' the older woman murmured, increasing the pressure so that Maggie's breasts were flattened against her, the hard tips grinding against the smooth buttons of her own.

  Maggie felt the rasp of Hilary's fiery pubic curls against the more mundane black of her own and she thrust her hips forward, increasing the contact. They kissed, slowly, taking their time, tasting and savouring each other. Hilary's mouth tasted slightly of peppermint and something sweeter, like honey. Maggie sighed into her mouth.

  When they broke apart, they stared, wonderingly, into each other's eyes. Then Hilary turned and led Maggie by the hand to the couch. Smiling slightly, she lay back on the pillows, her legs
hooked at the knee over the arm and a cushion pulled beneath her bottom so that her smooth-skinned buttocks were raised for Maggie's pleasure.

  Maggie's eyes felt heavy as she ran them over the supine figure of the woman in front of her. Her lips tingled from their kiss, her tongue eager for a richer honey.

  'Open up for me, darling,' she whispered.

  Hilary slowly spread her legs and displayed herself. Beneath the vibrant curls her flesh was paler than any Maggie had ever seen. The outer lips pouted invitingly, the flower-like labia opening before her eyes. She was very aroused, the petal-soft skin glistened wetly in the sunlight.

  Lower down, the skin puckered to a darker pink at the forbidden orifice which stretched open as if, like her vagina, it yearned to be loved. Maggie sank to her knees at the end of the couch and delicately dabbed her tongue against the moist crease of Hilary's exposed sex.

  Hilary sighed jaggedly and reached down to touch her clitoris. Maggie watched with lust-drugged eyes as it peeked from beneath its protective hood, responding to the knowing caress of Hilary's expensively manicured fingers. She imagined those long, lilac-painted fingernails scoring lightly along her own yearning flesh leaves and stood up.

  Smiling at Hilary's inquisitive expression, Maggie straddled her on the couch, her back to her face. Slowly, she spread her legs and lowered herself down so that they were sixty-nined. Hilary's nether lips closed about her tongue as she made the first long, luxurious sweep from her bud to her opening and back up the other side.

  As she had expected, Hilary tasted like the sweetest, most fragrant honey and Maggie closed her eyes, the better to enjoy the feast. Meanwhile, Hilary's tongue was far from idle: it probed and plunged, licked and sucked. Her small white teeth nibbled at Maggie's outer labia, coaxing the lips wider apart so that Maggie felt she must be able to see right into her womb.

  Bringing her forefinger into Hilary's sex, Maggie wetted it before lubricating the tight anal opening. Hilary groaned, the sound muffled by Maggie's body as Maggie slowly inserted the tip of her finger. Hilary's sucking grew more intense as Maggie worked her finger in and out, gently at first, then more boldly as the sphincter of muscle yielded and relaxed.

  Hilary's pleasure bud quivered against her chin as she used her tongue like a miniature cock, thrusting into her succulent sheath until she cried out her release. The suddenness of her climax interfered with the rhythm of her tongue so Maggie sat up and, before the spasms had reached their peak, she straddled Hilary's upturned jewel, placing one foot firmly on the floor at the end of the couch, the other lightly on Hilary's belly. Squatting, she reached down and opened her own labia, slick from the juices which had mingled with Hilary's saliva.

  Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps which were almost painful to her as she covered Hilary's sex with her own. The other woman's flesh was hot and slippery against hers and Maggie ground herself against Hilary's pulsating love bud so that the waves of pleasure coursing through it transmitted themselves to hers. Within seconds, Maggie was coming too and their hot, feminine juices combined, running into one another as they rubbed against each other in a frenzy of lewd delight.

  It was many minutes before either Maggie or Hilary regained some semblance of normality. Hilary stirred beneath her, alerting Maggie to the fact that her weight was probably becoming too much for her. She moved, reluctantly, though her own muscles were beginning to cramp.

  Hilary shifted on the sofa to make room for her and Maggie slid along so that they were lying, hip to hip, breast to breast on the narrow couch. They kissed, languidly, their foreheads pressed together. It was Hilary who first realised they were not alone.

  Alerted by her sharp intake of breath, Maggie sat up to face the intruder. Or rather, intruders. She relaxed, a slow smile spreading across her face as she saw Jason and Con in the open doorway.

  'How long have you two been there?' she asked, absently caressing Hilary's small breast.

  Jason reddened and dropped his eyes while Con grinned broadly. A glance at the two pairs of regulation sports shorts told her that they had been watching for some time – long enough for the black lycra to have become stretched to its very limit.

  Glancing at Hilary, Maggie saw that she was eyeing Con speculatively and she remembered that the other woman would not have met two of her newest recruits.

  'Come closer,' she invited, 'let me introduce you to Hilary. Hilary – this is Jason,' she smiled, encouragingly, at the younger of the two men, before announcing grandly, 'and this is Constantine G. Winchester the Third.'

  Hilary's eyes barely passed over Jason, her attention was rivetted on Con as he towered over them.

  'My, what beautiful skin,' she murmured and Con flashed his whiter than white smile at her.

  'Why don't you guys strip off and join us?' Maggie invited, as casually as if she had been offering them coffee.

  She turned back to Hilary without waiting to see if they did as she asked. Taking her into her arms, she gently coaxed her down onto the white, furry rug on the floor. The small button nipples hardened again as Maggie pressed them against the tips of her own and they knelt, facing each other as they kissed.

  From the corner of her eye, she watched Con kneel behind Hilary, his big, dark hands trailing a path from her shoulders to her waist and back up again. Jason was obviously watching him, eager to learn, for she felt his narrower hands perform the same action on her own skin.

  His eager, youthful cock pressed against her back as he began to kiss the top of her spine. Little sparks of electricity ran down her back as Jason kissed her and Hilary kneaded her firm, brown-tipped breasts. Although she could not see his hands, Maggie guessed from Hilary's expression, and the small mewls of delight which escaped through her pouted lips, that Con had reached down between her spread buttocks.

  Hilary's face was rapt, her eyes closed, her soft lips parted. She had arched back her head so that it rested on Con's strong chest. Maggie leaned forward to press her head against the elegant sweep of her neck. A small droplet of perspiration ran down Hilary's neck and Maggie caught it with her tongue.

  Craving the salty moisture, she licked a path downwards, between Hilary's neat breasts and on towards her navel. Jason supported Maggie's hips, dragging her back slightly on her knees so that her buttocks were held fast against his rising tumescence.

  As she darted her tongue greedily into the deep crevice of Hilary's narrow navel, Con lifted Hilary up and impaled her on his hard stem. Maggie watched, mesmerised, as, inches from her face, the thick, black column disappeared into the pale pink flesh, re-emerging shiny and wet with Hilary's fluids. She pressed her lips down to where the two bodies joined so that every time Con withdrew, she could lick the length of his wet shaft.

  Jason's hands played over her back, reaching down into her bottom cleft where his fingers sought her moist centre. Maggie parted her legs obligingly, welcoming his hand working over her hot, hungry flesh as she feasted alternately on Hilary's bulging vulva and Con's thrusting shaft.

  Hilary was making small, grunting sounds as she neared her climax. Con's big, black-skinned hands covered her small breasts, his lips fastened on her arched neck as the first spasm rocked her.

  Maggie pressed in closer, eager to share in the tumult which she could feel building between them. Her tongue found Hilary's quivering pleasure bud and flicked at it, drawing it out.

  As Maggie pleasured Hilary with her tongue, she raised her own bottom still further. Jason entered her with one swift, sure thrust. His skin was warm and damp against hers, but Maggie barely noticed him, she was so engrossed in what was going on in front of her eyes.

  She sensed the moment when Con began to come. Hilary's sheath spasmed as the hot, milky fluid shot into her, mixing with her own juices. It seeped out around his still hard shaft and clung to Hilary's red-gold pubic curls. Maggie lapped at the honeyed concoction oozing out of Hilary's body until Con withdrew, grown soft at last.

  Pulling away from Jason, Maggie whirled round a
nd flung her arms around his neck. The disappointment on his face told her he thought she had had enough of him and she smiled wickedly. The dismay turned to relief as she drew him down and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Holding him close to her, she rocked her pelvis in time with his urgent thrusts, stimulating her clitoris against his smooth, soft skin so that by the time he climaxed, she too was at the brink. As he came, with one final, triumphant thrust, Maggie went over the edge, crying out as the hot waves of pleasure washed over her.

  Antony took one look at Alexander's angry, set face and shivered. Maggie had been careless not to check the privacy switch on the two-way mirror was off. From the moment she had taken Hilary into her arms, he had felt Alexander's anger building.

  Now she was kissing young Jason with such obvious enjoyment and Alexander's rage was almost palpable in the small cubicle. His skin was white around the mouth, his startlingly blue eyes stormy as he flicked them over Antony.

  'Undisciplined bitch!' he spat.

  Antony fidgeted uncomfortably.

  'Maybe she hasn't realised yet,' he defended her weakly, but Alex wasn't listening.

  He had turned back to the scene in the office and was watching as Hilary, Con and Jason all took their leave of Maggie. Antony shrugged slightly. Maybe it was about time Maggie too found out that loving Alexander wasn't all roses.

  Frowning, Antony looked away, remembering how it had been in the beginning, when Alexander had turned up for a job as a trainer, one of the first at the Black Orchid Club. It hadn't taken him long to lure Antony into his manipulative web of seduction. Not that he had shown much resistance. Antony smiled ruefully.

  No, the good things about being in Alexander's thrall far outweighed the bad. It was just that one had to put up with certain . . . requirements. As Maggie would very soon find out.