He waited until she reached the door, and then called after her. “Make yourself available directly after this morning’s surgery.”
***
Things were going great. Leigh had taken the bait, and Ali opened the door to her wearing high, strappy stiletto heeled shoes and long, black gloves that came up to her armpits.
“I’m sorry to call unannounced...” Leigh began.
Riverside Tower’s security desk was equipped with a bank of monitors. Far from being unannounced, the guard had tipped Ali off to Leigh’s arrival more than three minutes before.
“If you’re expecting visitors,” Leigh gaped at Ali’s dress, so tight she must have been poured into it, “I won’t stay long. It’s just that there was a bit of bother at the surgery this morning and I need a shoulder to cry on.”
Speaking of shoulders, it stuck Leigh that Ali’s off-the-shoulder neckline seemed in some confusion as to where her neck actually was. Cut diagonally, it started beneath her right armpit and sliced across her left breast, which was recklessly balanced and held in place by willpower alone. It looked wonderful on Ali, and in her dreams Leigh wore one just like it.
In her dreams - huh! The story of her life.
Ali stood back to let Leigh pass. “You’re welcome anytime.” If there was one thing Ali could count on, it was Leigh’s curiosity. It must have driven her mad wondering why she’d turned up at the surgery to see Terence, only to leave again without a word. Now all she had to do was spring the trap.
Leigh stepped dazedly into the apartment and followed Ali. Several closed doors led off from the hall, with more leading off from the spacious lounge in which she found herself. “Wow! It’s some place you’ve got here.”
“It’s home,” Ali said modestly.
“Yeah, sure - a bit more up-market than the terraced house you grew up in, right?”
Normally, Leigh would be too polite to pry but she’d never believed Ali’s schoolgirl boasts about having come from a wealthy background. Now she was curious as to how Ali could afford to live in one of the most expensive properties for miles around.
“You must have made some useful contacts in Europe.”
Ali smiled at the generosity of Chantel and some of the chateau’s guests who, on the understanding that they’d always find a welcome at Ali’s establishment should they ever have business in the City, had put up considerable sums. Without their help she’d have had to settle for something more modest, without the benefits of the tight security.
Leigh’s gaze took in the spotless, unlived-in appearance of her surroundings. “And you must have a whole army of char ladies to keep the place this spotless.” She remembered the un-cared for clutter of Ali’s old bedroom, and the way Ali used to stick chewing gum under tables or on the back of bus seats; the way she’d just chuck coke cans, or more usually beer cans, over her shoulder for some other poor sod to clear away.
“Not at all,” Ali flicked her eyes towards the kitchen and smiled a secret smile. “Though I have got someone who ‘does’ for me. But that’s enough about my domestic arrangements.” She wasn’t sure what the story was with the doctor, but things couldn’t have worked out better. “Go and sit down. I just have to check on something, then I’ll be with you in a minute and you can tell me what’s wrong.”
“Sorry. Have I called at a bad time?”
“Of course not! Have you eaten?”
“No. I came straight from evening surgery.”
“You wait here, and I’ll rustle something up.”
Ali disappeared through one of the doors. The glorious aromas that were already emanating from the room beyond suggested that Ali’s culinary skills had also improved considerably and that “rustling something up” had a completely different meaning here.
Leigh swept her eyes over the lounge. While she tended to favour the traditional warmth of oak beams and chintz rather than the cold elegance preferred by Ali, she recognized quality when she saw it. Decked out in stylish black wood and smoked glass, the severe feel of the room was relieved by a couple of large, bronze figurines, both nudes Leigh noticed. There was also some kind of tall, spreading plant standing in the corner, and one of the chairs had over-stuffed, out-of-place, leopard print cushions.
The kitchen door opened - and to her dismay, Leigh heard Ali’s harsh whispers. Oh Lord! Her visitors were here already.
“Look, Ali, if you’ve got company, I can always come back some other time.”
“I’m expecting John later.” Seeing Leigh’s puzzled look, Ali elaborated. “You know, John Micklem, from the pub?”
“Oh, I’d forgotten about him. You don’t think he’ll really turn up?”
Ali took a seat beside Leigh on the sofa. “Of course he’ll fucking turn up! Men like him always do. We’ve got about an hour before he gets here. Until then, there’s only you, me and Jurgen.”
“Who’s Jur...?”
“No one important.” Ali’s tone was dismissive, but the intensity of passion in her eyes told a very different story indeed, one that Leigh was quick to pick up on.
“You didn’t tell me you’d come back from Europe with a lover,” Leigh laughed, her voice the familiar tinkle that re-awakened her friend’s hunger.
“He’s not my lover! He just cleans and cooks for me.” Ali’s glossed, crimson lips were a thin line of contempt.
The door opened and Leigh’s hand flew to cover her mouth as Jurgen entered. Well over six feet, he was handsome and tanned - Hercules himself would envy Jurgen’s pecks! And Leigh wanted him, whether he was Ali’s lover or not. The man was truly gorgeous, a walking representation of perfect manhood - the kind of guy you see pictures of but never get to meet.
Not only that - he was stark naked save for a black bow tie!
“What do you want?” Ali snapped as he approached.
“Dinner’s ready, Mistress. Shall I serve?”
Leigh’s mouth dropped open. What was this “Mistress” rubbish?
“No. Stand there,” Ali instructed curtly, pointing to a spot in front of where the two friends were seated. “Stand straight, man. Head bowed, legs apart, hands behind your back.”
Thrilled by Leigh’s shocked intake of breath, Ali fought to suppress a smile as she waited for Jurgen to comply. Rising to her feet, she walked round behind him and, producing a length of her favoured cord, bound his wrists together before re-taking her seat.
“My friend wants to examine you.”
Leigh’s heart thudded in the back of her throat, and her words came out as a high-pitched, “I what?”
“Go on,” Ali encouraged, “he doesn’t bite.” When Leigh remained seated, Ali said “You want to be examined like a horse in a sale, don’t you, Jurgen?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Ali, I can’t!”
“Yes you can! Don’t mind him. He’s nothing but a shit. What are you, Jurgen?”
“A shit, Mistress.”
“A shit with a shrivelled banana where his cock should be.” Ali felt the hot surge of power pound through her veins. “Tell the lady what you are.”
“A shit with a shrivelled banana where my cock should be.”
“See, he’s a wimp,” Ali felt a bolt of liquid fire shoot through her as Jurgen’s cock stirred, “too weak to argue.” Oh, it really was the most magnificent organ on the planet - not that she’d ever admit that to him. “Go on, Leigh. Imagine you’re buying him and want to check he’s worth the asking price.”
Slowly, Leigh got to her feet. Momentarily transfixed by the sexiest, most imposing male specimen she’d ever set eyes on, she struggled vainly to make sense of the situation. Something didn’t sit right- there was something going on here that she didn’t understand; he was a man who could have any girl he wanted, yet he seemed totally dominated by Ali, a woman who’s head
came up to his armpits and seemed to get off on humiliating him.
Gingerly, Leigh touched the tips of her trembling fingers against his tight chest, then skidded them downward. The response to her soft touch was immediate; his penis shot up hard and rigid from his groin and, at the same time sent unbearably hot, throbbing desire straight to her clit.
Chapter Nine
Taking up her characteristically majestic pose with her forearms resting on the arms of her favourite chair, Ali perused the pair side-on. They made a rather attractive couple - perhaps too attractive? No, she had no worries there; she could control Jurgen. Besides, manipulating people always made her horny, and Leigh was as easy to manipulate now as she’d always been.
“What do you think of him?” Ali demanded. “Come on, truth or forfeit.”
Leigh giggled. “Oh no! I’ve paid you enough forfeits to last a lifetime!” Leigh rested her hands on Jurgen’s hips and drew in a breath. With her head coquettishly on one side, she swayed her hips provocatively. “How can you call him a wimp? He’s magnificent!”
“You want proof? Ok, do what the fuck you want to him. Tease him as much as you like, but I guarantee he won’t move unless I allow it.” Seeing the doubtful look on her friend’s face, Ali laughed, and in an echo of former times, dared her.
Leigh kicked off her shoes. Taking up the challenge, with a flirtatious smile she began to gyrate her hips sensuously, every now and then thrusting her abdomen forward in blatant invitation. Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse.
Jurgen’s head remained bowed and his eyes stayed fixed to the floor.
Ali settled more comfortably. She knew he’d be going through hell as he tried to ignore the enticing movements of Leigh. After all, she was having trouble herself. It was she, Ali, who’d taught Leigh the movements, but now Leigh surpassed her teacher in that department. She was a true wanton, and had the makings of a perfect sex slave.
Leigh wet her lips, and then threw back her head so that her carefully styled, disorderly bedroom-hair tumbled about her shoulders. Then, in the way she’d perfected in her quest to tease every member of the male species, she began a sexy striptease until she stood naked before him. But only the twitching of his huge, erect phallus proved that he was a living, breathing man.
A rush of electricity scorched Ali’s insides. When she’d first seen Leigh in the pub, she’d recognized at once the blossoming of her friend’s body, but nothing had prepared her for the delight that stood before her. Even Jurgen’s huge hands would find it hard to contain the cherry-tipped breasts.
Her narrow waist seemed all the more so due to those firm, juicily heavy globes and the sensuous flare of her hips. Her pert backside was deliciously fleshy, and Ali’s insides quivered even more at the thought of sinking her fingers deep into the furrow that separated her buttocks.
Leigh danced for Jurgen, erotically twirling and swaying like some exotic dancer in a nightclub. Her jiggling breasts slapped against each other as she kicked her extraordinary long, pale legs high in front of him. There was nothing she liked more than displaying her body for a man when he was unable to respond, and she was really turned on now. She was blisteringly hot both inside and out, and little beads of perspiration formed on her skin to trickle tantalizingly down the deep valley between her breasts.
Ali noticed them too, though only the slight tremble of her hands gave an indication of her feelings as she swung her eyes up and down, left and right, in an effort to drink in the heady sight of both glorious bodies. Even now she wasn’t entirely sure who she wanted the most, well hung Jurgen or the delectable Leigh.
Leigh however was beginning to tire of the game. She wanted Jurgen more than she’d ever wanted a man before, and she wanted him now. But he remained stubbornly impassive and, admitting defeat at last, Leigh stopped her dancing and came to a halt to stand facing him.
Ali was triumphant. “I told you he wouldn’t do anything! You’re not man enough, are you?” Her satin voice was nevertheless caustic as she speared him with a cold glance.
“No, Mistress.”
An unthinkable possibility hit Leigh’s brain like a ten-ton lorry. “You mean he’s...” she broke off and looked quizzically at the hard, twitching penis. Surely not! Turning to face Ali, she took a couple of steps closer and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s gay? What a waste to womankind!”
For the first time Leigh noticed Ali had something lying across her lap - surely it wasn’t what it looked like, because what it looked like was a riding crop. It probably wasn’t a good idea to question its purpose. Something akin to panic fluttered in her depths
Ali laughed, but didn’t lower her own voice as she announced acidly, “Of course he’s not gay! Look at him! He wants to fuck you so much he’s about to bust his gut. Tell the lady what you want, Jurgen.”
Without raising his head, he said “I want to fuck you, Lady.”
Now Ali was really enjoying herself. “You want to fondle her wonderfully succulent tits, and take her hard nipples into your mouth, don’t you, Jurgen?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“You want to fuck us both, don’t you, wimp?”
His next words came out as a strangled sound from deep in his throat. “I want to fuck the arse off you both, you black hearted bitch!”
Crack!
It was Leigh who yelled out as the crop caught Jurgen across his buttocks. Jurgen, however didn’t even flinch but merely stood his ground as Ali degraded him further.
“Shut the fuck up! That pathetic attachment between your legs isn’t worthy to flaunt itself, let alone fuck such juicy pussies. Still, since we have a few moments to spare, the Lady will give you a blow job.” Thrilling at Leigh’s horrified gaze, Ali felt her blood surge in a fiery tide through her veins. She commanded harshly “Leigh, suck him!”
Not entirely averse to taking advantage of such an abnormal situation, Leigh thought it seemed impolite, not to mention chancy, to refuse her hostess when she was in this mood. She dropped to her knees in front of him. Her nipples, surrounded by dark areolae, stood out firm and ripe. Hungrily, she reached out for his balls. Cupping them in her hands, she flicked out her tongue and swirled it over his velvet-headed penis.
Enjoying herself immensely, for some minutes Leigh continued to flick her tongue over his glans, shiny from his secretions, and relished the slightly salty taste on her tongue. Clutching his massive cock with one hand she stroked his scrotum with the other. Then, holding his thigh to steady herself, she flicked her tongue downwards, slowly tracing the rope-like vein.
Repositioning herself, she eased her head between his legs and explored his balls with the very tip of her tongue.
Leigh almost jumped a foot in the air as the Crack! broke the silence of the room and Ali brought the crop down against the side of the chair. Her smooth, satin voice with the edge of steel was full of menace.
“Suck him, you stupid little tart! You’re supposed to be giving him a blow job, not auditioning for the Olympic Testicle Tickling team!”
Leigh barely had time to react before Ali was on her feet. Clutching a handful of the soft, red-gold hair, she yanked back Leigh’s head.
Leigh let out a shriek as she knelt before the statue-like Jurgen. “For God’s sake, Ali! That hurt.”
“Hurt?” Still clutching a fistful of hair, Ali pulled Leigh’s head forward again, into the required position. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. Open your mouth.” Letting Leigh’s hair drop, she grabbed Jurgen’s cock and rammed it half way down Leigh’s throat, making her gag terribly. “Get on with it!” There was a swishing sound, followed by a Crack! as Ali’s crop came down. A flash of fire streaked across Leigh’s shoulder blades, and she almost choked as the tumescent flesh stifled her scream. Immediately, her hand flew up behind her to soothe it. At once, the crop crashed down over her hand.
“Now that probably did hurt,” Ali laughed, a knot of excitement tangling in her belly. “I won’t put up with arguments, especially from you.”
Sucking now for all she was worth, Leigh flicked her eyes upward to meet Ali’s and saw the cruel smile that twisted her crimson lips.
“You can do better than that, Slut! Hurry up! We haven’t eaten yet, and John will be here any minute.” She raised the crop, fighting the urge to beat her friend as harshly as she’d beaten Cindy. “Suck him as if your life - or at the very least, your soft, unblemished skin - depended on it.”
Leigh didn’t know whether it was fear or arousal that made her tremble, but as she took Jurgen’s thick, stiff shaft even deeper into her throat, her heart sang. There was something thrilling about being here like this, under threat of pain while sucking the huge erection of a man who’d surrendered himself completely to the will of another woman. It was so exciting, so wrong... yet felt so right.
Another line of fire blazed across her back; Jurgen yelled out as the shock forced Leigh’s teeth to close around his flesh. Almost immediately, she felt her muscles go into spasm. No, don’t let her come yet! She felt achingly alive. Oh, it was just so delicious. No! Please don’t let her come yet.
Too late!
The full force of a mighty orgasm hit, sending shock waves right to her toes, and the fireworks she craved really did light up her brain.
At the same moment, Jurgen’s body jerked violently. A strangled growl escaped his lips as his hot seed shot into her mouth. Leigh almost choked a second time, yet she daren’t eject his cock without being told to.
Ali’s voice dripped sarcasm as she untied Jurgen’s hands.
“When you’ve quite finished, Leigh, go through to the dining room. Jurgen, it’s time you served dinner.”
***
Complacent in the knowledge that John Micklem would be livid at being kept waiting for so long, especially if he’d gone to a lot of trouble to arrange cover at the pub, Ali smiled. No doubt he’d be working on a little speech while under the perceptive eye of the security guard, and would find the innuendo in the guard’s look most disconcerting when he realized the guard was privy to some kind of knowledge he didn’t have.
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