“I have no idea,” I reply, waiting for her to continue her story.
“I let her press her hand to my cunt with just my underwear on so she could feel the heat.”
“And…?”
“Like I said, she would have rolled me right there on the floor,” she tells me.
“So did you? Roll on the floor with her?”
“No, but I invited her to come to the party with us.”
“Oh. And she’s going?”
“Yeah.” Peach finishes fondling me. Picking up the costume she fondles it as if it’s creating all kinds of ideas in her brain. “She’s kind of like an eager Analise.”
“Analise?” I question.
“Well not exactly Analise, just innocent.”
“Young?”
“Maybe twenty, yeah at least twenty… and breasts, woah! Bigger than Miriam, but on a tiny body. I could just imagine putting clamps on her nipples and squeezing them so tightly they hurt like hell.” Her face screws up in a lascivious scowl.
“And you want to spank her too,” I suggest, realizing where she’s going with this. This kind of talk is regular between us.
“Yeah, she has a nice fat ass.”
I look at Peach move, thinking that she’s very horny and so am I, since she’s made me that way with her talk. “So you’re going to the party in leopard skin and she’s going as what?”
“Oh I’m not going in this. I just brought it home to show you. Thought we could have some fun with it tonight.”
“What are you going to wear then?” I ask.
“I’m going to the party in a Tuxedo. One that’s very fitted so my boobs will spill out over the cummerbund. It looks really solemn and staid, a little haughty in that old fashioned masculine way.” I can imagine her now, and I start to shiver knowing what else is part of the fantasy.
“And me?” I ask. “What am I going to wear?”
I know she’s made the decision, all I have to do is wait to hear it. She looks at me as if she’s trying to decide how much to tease me with the answer. Dangling a carrot in front of my face, she knows I’ll keep coming for her, demanding the answer until she confesses.
Her eyes sparkle, then she turns away.
“C’mon tell me,” I ask.
“I don’t want you to bitch at me, so maybe I’ll blindfold you, dress you and let you find out when we get there.”
“Sure,” I answer sarcastically. “You think I’m going to let you do that?”
“You should let me do anything I want,” she says with an arrogant twist.
“Tell me, Peach, please,” I try pleading.
“Well,” she begins, “I was thinking corsets and garters.”
“Leather?” I ask interested.
“No.” She’s dressing me with her eyes sharply attuned to the curves of my body. “Satin and lace… and exposed.”
“Publicly submissive?” I ask.
“Why not? A public flogging wouldn’t hurt you at all. Give you away to some nasty dykes while I play with my new girlfriend. Could just put you right back where you belong.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” I ask her.
“It’s time to play, you can’t avoid it forever,” she says, as she sashays to the kitchen.
“You think I’ve been avoiding something,” I say following her.
“Avoid?” She considers the word carefully. “We’ll see.” She’s scheming, I can tell. “I think it’s time to take you back to Anastasia.”
“To the B&B…?”
“I don’t mean literally, you silly goose. But it pisses me off that she had all the fun with you while I waited around with Miriam.”
“Such a tough wait,” I sass her. “Let’s see, there was Miriam, and Rozelle, and Katherine and how many others?”
She smiles wistfully. “It was hard for me,” she says.
“And it was hard for me,” I say. We’ve played some on the dark side since our return, but it’s not been deep enough and we both know it. We’re still gun-shy, almost too timid to begin without the others.
“But the satisfaction…” she says, with a dreamy look in her eye.
In the kitchen, I pop a red grape into my mouth, while I watch her leaning back seductively against the counter, her chest pushed out revealing every curve and swell of her sensuous breasts. I sit down at the table and stare at her. I can’t seem to take my eyes from her. I like to watch her lips very closely when she speaks, they move so erotically.
“You know, I wonder sometimes if it really happened the way I remember it,” I say, feeling wistful myself.
“Did it?” she queries back.
“You read the stories and tell me?” I suggest.
“The truth has a lot of versions, Cassidy, yours is just a single one.”
She moves away from the kitchen counter, and I follow her with my eyes as she slips into the dining room and rustles through one of the bags lying on the table. She returns to me. I look up at her face, at the smile, at the dark eyes, and the dark skin. There’s something moving between us that defies explanation.
I hear a noise and look away to see Munchkin perched on the window sill as she washes her paw with her long pink tongue.
Peach, behind me, massages my shoulders and I lean back, letting the warmth of her hands pour into me, loosening the tension that has made them stiff. Then I feel something encircle my neck, a slip of cloth I think. Studying our reflections in the window with care, I see the ribbon. I watch mesmerized as she ties it into a neat tight bow. I’m amazed how easily she does this, as if she’s done it a thousand times before.
“Does it matter how it happened, or whether it even did?” she asks. “Does it matter where we’ve been, or just where we aim to go?”
A silent subtle stirring ripples over my body, taking me back into the dark obsessive side of me. I wear the feelings like a welcoming shroud…
It’s Elizabeth’s eyes I see in the window, and Anastasia’s voice I hear, and Samantha Clarisse’s hands I feel, all knocking at the wide rude door of my other self. I see the light around me flicker as if it’s getting dark, and I hear the beat of pagan drums as the ribbon collar seems to tighten around my neck.
“Take me back, take me back, take me,” I say somewhere in my psyche, as I feel the first rude snap of a whip against my thigh.
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Pagan Dreams Page 18
