Seduce Me

by Miranda Forbes

  “You were very noisy before – we can’t have you disturbing the neighbours now can we! You can enjoy our tastes while I enjoy yours.”

  Enough talk! She nibbled her way to the proffered breast, her nails stroking downwards until her fingers could mingle inquisitively among Gina’s sparse pubes. Sucking hard on the pert rubbery nipple, she finished with a sharp little awakener before moving to kneel once more between her victims thighs. Here she revelled in the beauty spread-eagled in front of her, marvelling at everything that had happened that night. She relived her own orgasms, and remembered the way Gina’s cunt had squeezed her fingers before soaking them, these memories heightened the awareness of what she was about to do as her mouth slowly approached her first pussy.

  Resting on her elbows, a few inches from her target, she ran the tip of a finger down the lips, instantly feeling the heat. With both hands she gently peeled back the labia, savouring the rich scent escaping from within as she examined the pink entrance. Her thumbs slid upwards, pressing out as they went, until she could see the exposed tip of the shy clitoris, peeking out vulnerably from underneath its hood. Somehow she knew exactly what to do! She sunk onto the nest of nerve endings and flicked rapidly – a muffled squeal of delight came from above.

  Rejoicing in a wonderful sensation of power, Abi released the lips with her thumbs and ran her tongue up and down, parting them once more as the cunning muscle probed. She eased a finger gradually inside before drawing it back and rubbing gently around the oily ridges of Gina’s g-spot, her insatiable tongue returned to rasp all over the rock hard clitoris. Approaching climax, Gina’s hands flew to her sides, clenching and unclenching as she thrust up her hips to grind against Abi’s mouth.

  Abi stopped everything. “Put your arms back where they were.” came the firm command.

  A groan of frustration rose from behind the soaking knickers as Gina was denied the completion she craved – but she complied immediately. This reaction fuelled the sense of control growing so deliciously inside Abi, and she cruelly determined to take the desperately submissive girl right to the edge – at least twice more – before allowing her to spill over the top!

  In the morning, no longer a virgin, Abi found herself gently stroking her still sleeping lover, taking in her willowy form and the perfection of her classically beautiful Indian features.

  “Mmmn! How’re you feeling?” murmured Gina, eyes still closed.

  “Still excited at meeting my first lesbian.”

  Gina chuckled impishly “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m no lesbian. I like a bit of cock as much as the next girl – but you were irresistible!” She opened her eyes and kissed Abi gently.

  “It’s Sunday!” she announced with a grin “We’ve got all day to play.”

  “You taste and smell different from me, sort of musky, it’s sensational!”

  “That’s cos I’m black. Didn’t you know.”

  “No but I’m glad I do now!” laughed Abi “Anyway you’re Indian. I wish I was like you.”

  “What, black?”

  “No. Your body. It’s fantastic! I’m fed up with being fat and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “You’re not fat, for God’s sake, girl. Biggish yes, but you look amazing! Pretty face and wonderful big, firm tits and bum. Look at your waist for fuck’s sake – no one could call you fat!”

  Abi gave a wry laugh “They did at school, believe me!”

  “School! Well fuck ’em ! Fuck ’em all! Look at you now! Who could resist you!” and with that she bent down and sucked a nipple hard into her mouth.

  This time they took their time with their lovemaking and when Gina had got Abi’s juices flowing liberally, she leant over to a drawer and produced a pink vibrator circled with white beads under a transparent latex covering and a little extension near the base. Gina moved down to lie between Abi’s legs, making her pull her knees up for total exposure. She rubbed the head of the dildo against the folds of skin before easing it forward. It slipped in effortlessly, and the whole thing was soon buried to the hilt.

  “You got one of these?”

  “No.” came the slightly shy reply.

  “Oh good!” laughed Gina “Then you’ve got some nice surprises to come.”

  Abi heard the sound of an electric motor and suddenly the prick began to gyrate inside her. “Oooo!” was all she could offer. The tone changed and she became aware of the beads along the side of the shaft moving – Gina made sure they pressed firmly against her g-spot before carefully positioning the flexible tip of the rubbery extension against her prominent clit, and suddenly brought that to life too.

  Each sensation on its own would have been enough to bring her to orgasm, but Gina’s skilful variations meant that, as soon as one part of her pussy was ready to come, then she moved elsewhere. It went on and on and, just as Abi thought there was nothing more to come, she felt the moistened tip of her lover’s finger scratching gently at the outside of her anus. It built up lubrication as juices dripped from her cunt, and soon slipped further inside. At last Gina pushed the dildo home, the shaft writhed, the beads revolved and the vibrating tip lay perfectly against her clit. The most enormous orgasm explode throughout her body. She screwed her eyes tight shut, as flashes of colour went off inside her head and her ears rang with the blood pumping through her brain. She was conscious of the delicious sensation of Gina’s finger worming its way steadily in and out of her arsehole as the seemingly endless intensity overwhelmed her.

  The girls formed a deep and lasting friendship, they went out pubbing and clubbing, sometimes going home together, sometimes alone, and sometimes with a man. From time to time they’d spend a whole weekend at Gina’s flat just chilling. Usually treating themselves to champagne or at least a decent wine. One of them would cook, they would massage each other, and the sex was amazing. An impressive collection of toys filled the drawer as their lively imaginations invented role-play games, occasionally with a bit of S&M. They’d tried it both ways, but by mutual consent it was Abi who tended to take the dominant role, she was more ingenious – and definitely slightly crueller. Twice now they’d shared a man, and Abi quickly realised how easy it was to manipulate the male ego into performing whatever she desired for herself or Gina.

  As she had since her youth, Abi gravitated towards the celeb hotspots, now often taking Gina with her, and it was partially because of this that Alan, Gina’s boss, had asked her along to help entertain a big talent agent, who might just offer Alan a run of gigs to cater. He knew the two hip girls looked good, and would be at home in a top club environment, so it was dinner at the new Quaglino’s and on to Tramp.

  ‘Biggy’ Bardino was the American boss of the agency and he’d brought Peter Lipton, head of their London office, with him for the evening – a promising start for Alan! Abi found herself being monopolised by Biggy and, although he was obviously a shrewd hard-headed bastard, she couldn’t help liking him. He was fifty eight, overweight with receding grey hair, but witty and charming – in fact very good company. He enjoyed that ability which some Americans seem to possess of being direct to the point of rudeness, but somehow able to get you to reveal confidences.

  “So whaddya wanna do girl? I mean really wanna do!”

  Abi told him her dream. “I want to be a ‘Fixer’. Specifically a Pleasure Fixer.”

  “You mean like a Hooker or a Madame? Hell that ain’t so hard. Not much of an ambition though.”

  “Nothing like that. I’ve watched the rich and famous from all over the world totally unable to enjoy themselves. They’re at the mercy of their fame – either the paparazzi, or some jerk demanding an autograph, hit on them wherever they go. Mostly they can’t enjoy even the simplest pleasures without an army of bodyguards or a faceful of photoflash. I would be the Manager of their discretion.”

  “And what makes you think anyone would buy this? I don’t think you understand quite how vain some of these guys are.”

  “Oh I know there’s plenty who need the buzz
of recognition. Despite their tantrums they’d collapse if they weren’t in the news. But that would help me you see – ’cos they wouldn’t be my clients.”

  “Ok, so Brad and Angelina want to go see The Stones – but they want to be in the crowd, not in the spotlight, and have an intimate meal out after. Over to you.”

  “Not too tough. Look-alikes, a little make-up and a little research.”

  “Ok Buffy – don’t mind if I call you Buffy do you? Look just like her, a little bigger of course, but then that just makes you more beautiful.”

  Abi glowed at the compliment, even blushing a little, somehow it didn’t seem corny because of the warmth in his voice.

  “Ok Buffy, so give! How do you perform this miracle?”

  “Well first they get tickets for the Royal Box, Restricted Area or whatever. Before the gig they go to a reception held in a private suite. Press are excluded. Then the switch happens. The look-alikes are hustled out into the waiting limo. Brad and Angelina are left behind getting a light make-up job, maybe a wash-out tint, glasses and a tash.”

  “And the same for Brad?”

  “Very funny. Then they join a select little group of me and a few anonymous, definitely non-famous, friends and we all head for the gig like anyone else. My researchers will have told me what other celebs are at the gig, and we make sure the paparazzi know all about them, just to help keep them busy. Maybe even buy tickets for the latest B-listers who are causing a scandal. So – concert over, we grab a couple of minicabs and head off to the most fabulous little Italian restaurant I know, which hasn’t been discovered yet by the rest of the world, and they get a table to themselves, a great candlelit dinner, a bottle of Chianti – and peace!”

  The first job she got from Biggy was to fix up the latest James Bond with a tennis partner he couldn’t thrash, and without a crowd of onlookers to spoil his game, this guy was a tennis obsessive! He gave her an unlimited budget, so when she found out that Rafa Nadal loved scuba diving and all water sports, and that Richard Branson’s island was available, it was a cinch. She was cunningly choosy about the assignments she accepted, always being sure she could deliver, and not afraid to say no. Failure was not an option in this game.

  Some months later, with her clientele growing and some big names using her number, Abi was sitting in her discreet little office above the hubbub of Oxford Street, making plans and contacts, when the phone rang.

  “Hey, Buffy! Howya doin beautiful?”

  “Good thanks, Biggy.” replied Abi with genuine affection “How about you?”

  “I’m great kid – but rushing as always. Listen, I’ve got Christian Warden in London, and I’ve told him all about you, he wants a meet to talk about some stuff. Can do?”

  “Of course, my pleasure! He’s about the hunkiest bunch of hormones on screen! Where is he?”

  “Being chased down at the Ritz.”

  “Don’t worry I’ll fix him an apartment in Chelsea where they’ll never find him. Give me a number.”

  Christian Warden – wow! She put the phone down and picked it up again straightaway.

  “Gina, put your glad rags on. Have I got a treat for you! I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  She eased the slightly milky silk stocking up her leg, and fastened it to a suspender clip dangling from the hand-made duck-egg blue corset, trimmed with a deep midnight lace. She never seemed to get a perfect fit from sixteen or eighteen so mentally called herself a size seventeen, but tailoring had to be the answer when she wanted to look her best. For instance these perfectly cut directoire knickers, fitting snugly across her lower abdomen, and scraping excitingly across the little triangle of bristle kept neatly trimmed at the top of her pussy, before slightly biting into the crease below. This time it was her own pleasure she’d fix!

  With help from staff, she’d smuggled him out of the Ritz. He’d loved the apartment, he’d loved the champagne, he’d loved the Vietnamese take-away, and Gina had brought some great music and a little coke. And yes – he really was adorably charming and impossibly handsome!

  “So Biggy says there’s nothing you can’t do – well I’ve got a bit of a list, maybe we could start to go through it?”

  “Christian, I’ve never said this to a client before, but do you mind if we leave that ’til the morning.”

  “No problem. So what would you like to do tonight?”

  Abi came up to him and placed one hand confidentially over his. “Well I need some really good sex – and so does Gina.”

  They stood up and began to strip. “Maybe we can put on a little private cabaret for you.”

  Twenty minutes later Gina was leant over the back of a chair, naked except for a thin gold slave chain round her waist. Abi stood in her glorious underwear, the belt from Christian’s trousers dangling from her hand as the crack of her last stroke died away – she turned from Gina’s rosily striped cheeks towards the bedroom.

  “Follow me, slut!”

  Gina rose and crossed the room submissively. As she went past Christian she reached down for the powerful erection he’d been stroking, and brought him with her. She whispered in his ear, slipping something into his hand.

  Abi lay naked on the bed as the other two approached. Gina slithered down so they faced each other and kissed her friend tenderly.

  “That hurt, you know.”

  “Good. It’s what you wanted.”

  Gina’s arms encircled her lover and smiled with anticipation as her leg hooked over Abi’s and brought it forward – the movement exposed all of Abi’s secrets.

  Abi glimpsed the powerful figure of the unbelievably sexy film star lubricating his thick cock with the gel that Gina had passed to him.

  “Mmmn. Thank you. I’ll suck him hard again for you afterwards.”

  “I’ve told him you need it deep and strong.”

  “Mmmn,” gurgled Abi again with a shiver.

  “In the arse,” added Gina tightening her grip so there was no escape.

  Abi loved her job!

  Shadow Play

  by Jennie Treverton

  Mirabelle and Adrian were having their first fuck in their new tent, when without warning Adrian pulled his cock out of her and said, ‘Oh shit!’

  Mirabelle yelped with shock. Adrian jumped up, grabbed the gas lantern and turned the light down as low as it would go.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ said Mirabelle, trembling with fury. ‘That was so not the moment to bloody well …’

  She rubbed her clit, all hard and alive and abandoned.

  ‘Darling, do you realise what we were doing just then?’ he said, crouching down next to her. ‘That light was giving everyone else on the campsite a detailed view of us having sex!’

  ‘No, surely not.’

  ‘Yes, I promise. What on earth was I thinking?’

  He slapped his forehead.

  ‘You’re paranoid. Anyway, who cares? Look, here.’

  She opened her legs and spread her lips apart.

  ‘Can’t you see what a state I’m in? Quick!’

  ‘Of course, my darling, I’m sorry.’

  In fact he could hardly see her in the gloom, but he could feel her arousal very well. He got his head down and stuck his tongue in her cunt, licking her to orgasm within seconds while pulling himself off.

  When they’d got their breath back she turned to him and said, ‘I don’t think you could be right about the shadow thing. It wasn’t the right angle for a start. And anyway, that doesn’t really happen except in stupid seventies films.’

  ‘You don’t believe me? Go and check for yourself. I’ll set it up.’

  He turned the light up full and placed it exactly where it had stood while they were screwing. Mirabelle pulled her dress on, unzipped the tent and went out. It was quite dark by now but the campsite was still busy. People were sitting at tables outside their tents and caravans, having dinner and drinking wine by lantern-light. If anyone had seen them, thought Mirabelle, she should be able to tell because they
’d be staring, surely? But nobody seemed to look at her.

  In truth, the thought that they might have been putting on a show for some unseen audience had made her even hotter in that moment. It had been quite an unexpected extra thrill. She was almost disappointed not to see anybody out here grinning dirtily at her.

  ‘Mirabelle?’ came Adrian’s voice. ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’

  She walked away a few steps, turned and looked at the side of the tent.

  There was an almost perfect outline of Adrian standing up, holding two fingers in the air. She could even see the short curls sticking out over his ears and the peaks in the line of his shoulders. The shadow was a little distorted, curving towards the bottom and getting wider and fuzzier until his feet disappeared, his legs like tree-trunks growing out of the ground. But everything from the knees up was razor sharp.

  ‘Well?’ he called. ‘How many?’

  ‘Um, is it four?’

  ‘Four fingers? Are you sure?’

  ‘Look, I really can’t tell, you know. It’s too blurry.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Adrian, sounding doubtful.

  ‘It’s just a sort of shadowy mess. You can hardly even tell it’s a person.’

  Mirabelle smiled to herself.

  ‘Oh, right,’ he said. ‘Well, I stand corrected.’

  * * *

  The next day Mirabelle went to the beach to sunbathe while Adrian did some ‘maintenance work’, as he called it, checking seams, twanging guide-ropes, filling water-bottles. He’d been wanting to go on a camping holiday ever since they’d first got together more than three years ago, but each summer Mirabelle’s choice had won. This year he’d summoned his courage, and in an obviously rehearsed speech he’d told her that he was sick to death of airports, and she’d love camping if only she’d give it a go, and she’d love Cornwall and she’d love the beaches especially.

  Actually, it turned out he was right. This beach was small enough to be intimate, nestled in a curve of high cliff. It was only five minutes’ walk from the campsite and she anticipated spending lots of time here, in this sheltered spot behind a fallen crag, if the sun stayed as warm as it was now. She lay back on her lilo, wearing her new purple and blue bikini and big sunglasses. She felt the breeze lapping at her edges and the sun heating her skin. She began to feel lazy and full, like a summer fruit hanging on a vine, and she stretched her arms out, putting her hands behind her head. Her fingers raked through her thick dark hair and rested on the nape of her neck. She spread apart and wiggled her sandy toes.