THE LADY BOSS
NEIL GRAYSON


INTRODUCTION

Societal relationships between men and woman have undergone a striking transformation in recent years. The woman's drive for equality, once propounded almost exclusively by strident feminist revolutionaries, has achieved mainstream respectability. Nowhere is this more evident than in commerce and industry. Where it would have been unthinkable merely a few years ago, women now hold high positions with great responsibility.

But there is another facet of man-woman relations that is much more complex, a problem that no "affirmative action" program could ever hope to reach: sexuality.

The following story examines such an interesting case: conflict in dual levels of psychological functioning.

The young woman in our study has achieved a great deal of success in the business world: she is president of a national advertising agency which she has built from the ground up. In this capacity she deals with other top level executives, both male and female; she oversees the work of many creative people; she is ultimately responsible for millions of dollars.

But our female subject is in turmoil. Her sexuality has not kept pace with her business success. And our manuscript explores in depth this facet of her life. We shall see how the woman, coming as she does from a background of modest heterosexual experience and a husband dominated marriage (the man is himself an important international executive), is catapulted by her burgeoning awareness into a world of complicated relationships involving sexual trauma, adultery, lesbianism, autoeroticism, fetishism, bondage, discipline, oral and anal intercourse.


CHAPTER ONE

Mary Springer took a second to glance out the window of the conference room. She loved the view from this corner of the building. She was fifty-eight stories above Chicago. The gray waves of Lake Michigan stretched away to the east as far as the eye could see. And to the west there was the Great Plains. Mary laughed to herself. Could she see as far as the Rocky Mountains today? It was great this afternoon, Mary thought. From her lofty perch she felt that she owned everything, that she had it all. 

She turned back to the business at hand. The lawyers and company representatives were signing the contracts now. This account was going to be in her pocket any moment. She was so high with the excitement that she was sure she was going to need a drink, maybe a tranquilizer. Maybe she'd go into her private lavatory and do a number on herself with the vibrator she kept locked in the cabinet there. Yes, that's what she was going to do. Masturbation was the one thing in the world that drained the tension right out of her. How she loved that floating feeling that came over her after she had achieved orgasm! It was as though she were as far from the business world as she could be when she went into her little cubicle and played with her clitoris and her vagina. She'd been doing it more and more lately. Business had turned into more than a fulltime occupation and she almost never seemed to be able to get home. Not that it mattered very much where sexual satisfaction was concerned. Her husband Horace was usually off in some other part of the world looking after the interests of his airline.

"Miss Springer?"

Mary looked up. One of the account executives was smiling. He offered her a pen.

"Would you like to initial the contract now?" he asked.

Mary couldn't wait. She took the pen in hand and signed her name in a firm, flowing script. There were handshakes all around. But all the expressions of good wishes couldn't intrude upon that was going through Mary's mind right now: she'd fought hard for this advertising account, and she'd won! She'd brought her own agency into competition with some of the biggest, more successful ad agencies in the country and she'd beat them all for this soap company account. With the national campaign she'd designed for this company, Mary's firm, Springer, Poor, and White, was going to take its rightful place as one of the "star" agencies in the country.

Mary looked around the room now. She saw her vice-president, Jacqueline, standing over to the side of the room. It hung a bit heavy on Mary's mind to think what the firm, especially Jackie, had gone through to bag this account. Why, Jackie was still seeing her gynecologist almost daily. Crocker, the president of the soap outfit, had nearly torn her pussy out in one of his little rape-fantasy episodes. The man was a demon. He couldn't even get it up for any kind of straight man-woman sex, but just let certain kinks be introduced into a scene and he was ready to cum all night long.

Mary had had to don a crotchless wetsuit one night to satisfy Crocker. She hadn't loved it, but there had been no other choice if she wanted a shot at the account. She wondered bitterly if Crocker would have put a male-dominated agency through the same ordeal. Maybe he had a lot of gay executives hidden away somewhere but Mary doubted it. She knew damn well that her firm had to suffer all this shit because she and most of her other top executives were women, and great looking ones at that. Mary had been a fashion model for a couple of years before going on to open her own ad shop. Jacqueline, she remembered, had been an actress at one time a few years ago. She had a lot on the ball, too. Mary wished she could add her friend's bills from the gynecologist onto the account. Damn that pig Crocker! She'd just love a chance to slice that dong of his off! If the housewives of America only knew the guy who made their wash whiter was one of the biggest perverts and woman-haters in the country , they just might decide to put him out of business.

Crocker came over and shook Mary's hand. She smiled graciously. And then it occurred to her that if Crocker's company went out of business, hers just might go bankrupt along with it. He had her, the bastard! She had to go along to get along, all right. But maybe he wouldn't demand such sacrifices on the part of her and her staff anymore. She mumbled something pleasant to Crocker and she retreated as best she could. She hoped he wouldn't decide to follow. Jackie came over, though.

"Did he ask you to come to dinner with us?" Jackie inquired.

"No thank goodness," Mary answered.

"You're lucky," Jackie said. "He wants me to have dinner with him. And that means he'll want to be engaged in some hijinks with him later. My cunt is such a mess from that huge artificial dong of his, I don't think I'll ever have another orgasm. I'm not even sure I have a clit anymore. And what I'm really afraid of is that he'll want to do some number on my asshole."

Mary saw that her friend was about to burst into tears.

"He's put it to me in just about every way that I can think of," Jackie complained. "I'm so angry that sometimes I feel I never want to have sex with a man again for as long as I live. Why do they have to be so damn rough?"

Mary just listened. During that one orgy she'd been obligated to attend, Crocker had drawn blood right from her pussy. She no doubt had a lot more experience in these matters than Jackie, but that hadn't made the pain any easier to bear.

Jackie went on.

"Do you know what I did last night, Mary?" she said. "For the first time in my life I went down to one of those dyke bars and picked up a young chick and went home with her and we balled. I was going out of my skull with horniness because Crocker provides no satisfaction whatsoever. But I just couldn't bear the thought of making it with a man."

Mary looked at her friend. She didn't say anything. Any way you looked at it, you had to admit that Jackie was one fine piece of ass. She never failed to turn a man's head the minute she stepped into an office. Would she be attracted to her own vice-president in a sexual way, Mary wondered? She had never done it with another woman herself. Not that she didn't appreciate good-looking women. It was just that, well, she had always balled with men. She loved the feeling of a hard cock drilling deep inside her, of her womb being washed by a wave of hot sperm. She'd never even known a lesbian very well in, her own life. And now her dear friend Jackie was telling her that she preferred having sex with women! Mary almost couldn't believe it. Or maybe she could. Maybe Jackie was just having some kind of temporary reaction to that crazy macho goon Crocker.

The conference was breaking up and Mary was able to retreat into her own private office. She eyed the lavatory over in the corner, thinking about the vibrator which lurked inside the dark little room. Was her pussy beginning to drool in anticipation of a little action? What was she going to fantasize about? What was going to flash through her mind as she manipulated her genitals to orgasm? As she worked her tender little clitoris between her thumb and forefinger. As she shoved a middle finger far, far up into her vagina. As the tiny electric appliance drove on and on in its relentless mission of providing her with sensations of pleasure.

The intercom on Mary's desk buzzed her out of her reverie. It was Kathy, her secretary in the outer office.

"Your manicurist is here, Miss Springer," the young woman announced.

Mary had forgotten all about the appointment. She was going to have to sit and have her nails done while she really wanted to be giving herself a nice handjob.

"Send her in," Mary ordered in a brusque voice. A second later the woman appeared in the doorway, followed by Kathy. The manicurist went about preparing her business while Kathy recited Mary's appointments for the rest of the afternoon. "And the Baroness is due in an hour," the secretary said.

"The Baroness," Mary thought. Of course! How could she have forgotten her appointment with the woman who had traveled all the way from Paris to meet with her. And the Baroness' account was enough to make her mouth water. She was planning to introduce to the American market her line of cosmetics backed by one of the most expensive ad campaigns ever. Mary would do everything she could to have that account. It was worth millions to the agency.

Kathy mentioned something about still another appointment. This one was supposed to be with the corsetiere. At least that's what they used to call people who sold ladies' underwear. Mary had realized that she was too busy to even go out of the office shopping these days. She had to have the stores come to her.

The manicurist was beginning to apply a coat of deep red polish to Mary's fingernails. How pretty, Mary thought, and how feminine. It was a small pleasure she allowed herself in this dog-eat-dog world of advertising. She was proud that she was pretty, even more than that, she was beautiful. People had told her so all through her life and she had taken them at their word. And then she had come to Chicago and become a fashion model. And she had been successful at it. It was just that she had always wanted more in life. She'd wanted to have some power, to be creative, to succeed in a world where more than looks mattered.

But Mary realized as well that appearances play a large part in the mystique of advertising. She crossed her long, stockinged legs even as the manicurist clasped her hands to apply another coat of polish. Would she have snapped up the Crocker account, Mary wondered, if she and Jackie hadn't been so good-looking, if they hadn't been willing to put up with Crocker's little kinks?

She gave Kathy the onceover. The young woman had remained in the office as if she was waiting for some direction from her boss. Kathy had a lot on the ball. That's why Mary had hired her for the job. But she was a piece of ass besides. Mary knew it was a good idea to have a sharp-looking woman out there guarding the door to her office. The men who found their way into this place had to be made aware that Springer, Poor looked as good as the ads it produced. And the outer office was as good a place to start as any.

But what was Kathy looking at, Mary wondered? The woman just seemed to be gazing into space, or gazing at her? Mary watched. Kathy's eyes were averted from her. There was something about her secretary that intrigued her so much. The way she dressed? Today she was clad in stylish dress pants and very expensive looking high heeled shoes. Those heels left little imprints on the carpet when she walked. Kathy was tall and fair. Mary thought she might have made a real career for herself as a model. She was so innately graceful. And everything about her, from the way she coiffed her hair to the nail polish she wore seemed to add to the effect.

"Will that be all, Miss Springer?"

Mary looked up. So. Kathy was asking her a question. What was going on here? Was she, the president of a major corporation, losing her faculties right here on one of the most important days of her business life? Mary shuddered to think there might even be a grain of truth in the idea.

She dismissed Kathy for a moment and watched the woman retreat toward the outer office. What a shapely ass she had, Mary thought. And her pants were so well tailored that they showed it off to great advantage.

The manicurist asked for Mary's other hand. Mary obliged. And she crossed her legs as well for no particular reason. Then she noticed something. Her pussy was wet! There was no doubt about it. And she hadn't even been drifting off into masturbatory fantasies! She hadn't even had her vibrator on her mind!

She couldn't believe it! Was her pussy juice soaking through her panties already? And what had done it? She certainly hadn't fantasized about some giant cock coming to splay her. And no piece of masculine ass had set foot inside her office. Then she realized what had happened. It must have been Kathy. It just had to be! She was just turned on by a member of her own sex! She was sexually aroused by another woman!

Mary sat with her head reeling. What was she going to do? Did this mean that she had lesbian tendencies? And she recalled what Jackie had told her earlier. She picked up some papers and tried to do some work.


CHAPTER TWO

Mary freshened herself up in her lavatory. There was no time to masturbate. There was hardly time to put on a little makeup and comb her hair. The Baroness was on her way up in the elevator. A multimillion dollar cosmetics account was on the line here and Mary was going to do her damndest to pull it in. A little class wouldn't hurt this operation at all, she knew. And Crocker certainly wasn't going to help Springer, Poor attain any degree of chic with his damn laundry detergent.

Mary glanced at herself in the mirror one last time. She really did look all right, she knew. The old fashion model instinct in her always managed to come out at times like these. And right now she looked professional as hell. Simple gray dress, subdued scarf around her long, graceful neck, an impeccable coiffure above her classic American face. She could pose in ads for the Baroness' firm herself if she so wished. Mary brushed a strand or two of her dark blonde hair back from her face and went out to face the music.

She summoned Jackie and a couple of account executives and art directors on the intercom and took her place in the high-backed leather chair behind her desk. Before she sat down she pulled up her skirt and adjusted the waistband of her panty stockings. She knew that her legs were her best feature. Too bad, in a way, that skirts were a little longer these days. She missed out on some whistles down on the street. Or maybe she didn't. Two separate groups of construction workers had hooted at her this morning as she walked over to work from her apartment on Lakeshore Drive.

The intercom buzzed. Kathy announced the Baroness. Mary got up and went outside to meet her.

Baroness Rosa von Katzenbusch was a small woman. She was dressed all in black, from head to toe. High black boots protected her legs from the Chicago chill and a long black coat met those boots below her knees. A black hat and black gloves completed the outfit. Two male aides were similarly clad. It took Mary only a second to decide that the men were flaming faggots. Not unusual, she knew, for them to be hanging around such a woman. She seemed to be the very ideal of a "fag moll".

The Baroness slowly doffed one of her gloves and extended an exquisite, bejeweled hand for Mary to clasp. Mary did so graciously, and knew that the Baroness was at the same time checking her out with a thoroughly experienced eye.

"I've been eager to meet you for such a long time," the Baroness said. "You've done remarkable things in the way of advertising and publicity."

Mary acknowledged the compliment and ushered the woman and her male cohorts into her inner office. Suddenly, Mary realized that her pussy was still wet. She hadn't had an extra pair of panties and had tried to dry herself just a bit before meeting the Baroness. She'd thought she'd done it, but something was going on down there between her legs. Something that she couldn't control!

With a shaking hand, Mary directed the Baroness and her entourage to chairs by the window in the corner of the inner office. Then she motioned her own people forward for the discussion and presentation.

The Baroness began to talk business right away. Mary knew that despite the woman's reputation for beauty and glamour, she had a fantastic business sense. But as she droned on about market share and sales figures, Mary slowly realized that she wasn't really paying attention as much as she should. What was she doing? She was gazing upon the Baroness' legs. The skirt of her haute couture dress had hiked up ever so little from the top of those boots and now Mary was trying like hell to see up her dress!

Mary broke out in a cold sweat. The office suddenly became unbearably hot. She had to get out of here. They were driving her crazy, all these people, with all their damn business talk. She tried to be cool. She pretended to think, but in reality she found herself gazing out the window. The waves on Lake Michigan entranced her. And they made her realize something else: there were waves washing out from her pussy, spasms of sensation. She was horny! She wanted sex! Now!

Mary felt the fear welling inside her. She was turning into a dyke. She knew it! After all these years as an active hetero woman! It was happening to her right now! First it had been her dear secretary Kathy who'd made her pussy drool. And now it was this kinky Baroness who was sitting in front of her! She could just imagine by looking at the woman the bizarre sexual practices in which this woman engaged. She just had to be into furs and leather, bondage, discipline and who knew whatever else.

She was running a river down there between her legs! The wetness was already through her panties. It was going to soak through her panty stockings any second now! Then it would drip right onto the upholstery. And everyone in the room was going to smell it. Mary had always had a strong scent, she knew. Everyone present was going to know that she was getting hot over the Baroness! The Baroness might want to ball her! She might set that as a price for giving the account to Springer, Poor! And what was Mary going to do? Wasn't she hot to get it on with the Baroness? Wasn't she fixated already on the woman's legs? On her impeccably manicured, bejeweled fingers? On those thick, red-rouged lips that looked like they were just created to slather around in Mary's pussy?

At the very least Mary had to masturbate! She had to get out of this conference and get into her little room and get a finger inside her cunt! Turn that vibrator on and let it do its job on her clitoris! She crossed her legs, then crossed them again. Wasn't everybody in the room looking at her? Didn't the Baroness have that knowing, dyke-to-dyke, look on her face?

When was this damn conference going to be over with? When was she going to get a chance to play with her pussy, to diddle her clit? She was going to fantasize over this Baroness, Mary knew. She was going to get herself all the way up to orgasm. She was going to make herself cum with thoughts about balling this kinky bitch in front of her! She was going to get off on dyke fantasies!

But the business talk just wouldn't stop! Mary was getting desperate, and wetter all the time! They had to have picked up the scent of her pussy! It was beginning to burn now! She was feeling just the way she felt when there was a man in the room whom she wanted to have fuck the daylights out of her! Mary's eyes watched the Baroness like a hawk's. Every little nuance, every gesture the woman made, every time she puffed on that cigarette in its long ivory holder, every time all those bracelets on her wrists clinked against one another. This was turning Mary on so much she was terrified.

The waves on Lake Michigan kept washing in. The sensations kept beating up from Mary's pussy. She was putting on the best show she possibly could, giving rote answers to the questions she was asked, making comments from time to time. Comments that she'd made hundreds of times before in other places.

Finally it was all over. Mary almost couldn't believe that the Baroness and her two faggot retainers were getting up to leave.

A gorgeous hand came after her! Mary almost gasped. Was the Baroness about to caress her tits? Was she going to attempt to finger her pussy?

"Thank you, my dear Miss Springer," the Baroness said in her thick European accent. "I was very impressed."

Mary acknowledged this compliment as graciously as she could.

"Perhaps you would care to join me for dinner this evening?" the Baroness asked.

Mary nearly blacked out. This mad bulldyke was asking her to dinner. Tonight she was going to ball another woman for the first time in her life! Her dyke fantasy was going to be made real! There was no way around it!

Mary vaguely heard herself accepting the Baroness' invitation with thanks. Had she really done it? She glanced nervously at Kathy and Jackie as the Baroness made her exit. Both of her employees smiled at her. They knew what was going to happen, didn't they? Why, the two of them had probably sniffed her gushing pussy!

Mary looked at her secretary and vice-president. "Am I really going to have dinner with that woman?" she asked, as if she didn't believe she'd accepted the invitation. And-there was a part of her that really wished she hadn't.

Jackie and Kathy were still wearing those smiles of theirs. Mary knew right away that she was going out with the Baroness tonight and that her employees had a damn good idea of what was going to happen.

There was a buzz from out at the reception desk. The corsetiere was announced. Mary told the receptionist to admit the woman. Jackie and Kathy departed through a side door. Mary looked over at her private lavatory. If only, she thought, if only she could get inside there for a few moments and satisfy this bizarre craving with some finger action. She didn't even have to turn on her vibrator. If she could only have a few minutes just to diddle her clit with her fingertips! She just had to stem the tide gushing from her cunt! Her genitals demanded some attention, some satisfaction!

But it was not to be, at least not for a little while. The lingerie salesperson, an older, experienced looking woman, walked through the office door.

The lady spread her wares out on the couch along the wall of Mary's office. The pastel colors, the silks and the laces contrasted with the businesslike leather upholstery of the office furniture.

The woman began her sales pitch. She didn't really have to convince Mary to buy anything. There wasn't a woman around who knew as much about clothes as Mary did, and that extended to lingerie as well. She had in fact called this woman to her office simply because she needed to replenish her stock of brassieres, panties and panty stockings.

But there was something different about this visit of the corsetiere. She had a great deal more to show than simple, everyday underwear. Her bag contained a load of sheer delights, as she referred to them. There were all sorts of genuine silks and expensive laces. There were stockings and garter belts, waist cinches, camisoles, teddies and even some old fashioned corsets.

Mary was surprised at first. Then she became intrigued. The exotic lingerie had some kind of hold over her. She picked up the garments and ran her fingers all over them. She went over to her office mirror and held some of the things up against her. She wondered just how she would look in some of the things. The girdles and corsets seemed so quaint. But there was something about them, she noticed, some kind of sensuous quality that was so lacking in the lingerie she wore every day. And the real silk stockings! They were so soft to the touch! Wouldn't they be so comfortable on her legs!

The lingerie woman was talking up the sensuous garments now, saying how they were the rage, how they marked a return to femininity.

Mary didn't have to be told. Her drooling pussy made her aware of the fact. It shouted to her! Made demands upon her!

Mary bought. And she bought some more! She wanted everything. She wanted the lingerie lady to get the hell out of her office so she could spend the rest of the afternoon fingering herself into oblivion! She was going to say the hell with running this business! What did she care if they ever got another new account? All Mary wanted was for the demands of her pussy to be somehow fulfilled! And if she was going to do nothing else, she was going to make sure that was accomplished. She didn't know exactly how she was going to quiet her raging cunt, but she was damn well going to do it! And in a style that would be remembered for a long, long time!

The corsetiere finally left her in peace, but not before Mary had blown a wad on her wares. The couch was piled high with the silks and laces. Mary stood there, just eyeing her purchases, almost afraid to put a finger on them. It would be so naughty and sinful! She would be lewd and wanton! Those were whore's clothes that she'd just bought!

She leaned over to the intercom and buzzed Kathy. In as steady a voice as she could manage, she told her secretary to hold all her phone calls and not disturb her. Mary knew that such a request was not unusual. Kathy wouldn't think to come barging in and find her.

Mary's eyes wandered back to all the silks and laces now. Slowly, she walked back over to the couch. With trembling hands she reached out to the garments and she touched one. It didn't burn her! She seemed somehow surprised. She had plans. She was going to be a wanton woman. She was going to neglect her career now. She was going to throw the good of the corporation to the winds!

Mary picked out a black lace waist cinch from the pile, and her hands set upon a pair of black silk stockings, the kind with seams running up the back.

She literally ran to her private hideaway. And once she got inside, she latched the door. She looked at herself in the mirror. A lusting, crazed woman appeared in the glass. Mary knew that she had changed. Something was becoming unstuck in her life. She didn't know what it was, except for the fact that her pussy was turning on her, ordering her to run her life in a completely different way! And she knew that if she didn't follow her cunt's wishes, she would lose her mind and it would take her over completely!

Her clothes were coming off! She hadn't told her hands to strip her, but they had set about the task anyway. The buttons on the front of her dress were all undone now, and she had bared her brassiere and the waist of her panty stockings to her mirror gaze. And soon there was more. Bare tits thrust themselves out and a patch of pubic bush bared itself for her to see. That gray flannel dress fell slowly to the floor. Bra and stockings and pantyhose liner fluttered down as well. And there she was! Naked except for a pair of earrings, a watch and bracelet.

Mary just watched herself for a moment. Here was the president of a big corporation standing stark naked in her bathroom in the middle of the workday! But Mary had to answer to a higher command. She had no choice in this matter. Slowly, inexorably, in a preordained fashion, Mary's hands began to find their way down to her crotch. Probing fingers searched through her pubic bush, splayed apart the soft, sensitive lips of her pussy. A chill shot up through her spine. This was only the beginning, Mary knew.

She was so wet down there. The pussy juice had already made its way down both her thighs. Her dark blonde bush glistened with the liquid that had gushed from deep inside her lusting cunt. She was hungry! In spite of herself, Mary's animal instincts had suddenly overwhelmed her, made a decision that she was bound to follow.

Bound! Why was she doing this to herself? She stooped down to step into the waist cinch and she brought it up around her. Then she tightened it. And tightened it some more! She pulled with all her might! She knew she should be suffocating now. The lacy thing was pinching in her waist past the point of pain and still she pulled. She was entranced with the sight in the mirror: a woman in bondage! She! The tighter she squeezed and the smaller her waist became. the more her pussy seemed to gush its juice!

Lubrication! All that juice wasn't spewing out of her for nothing. It was there to ease an entry into her vagina. But an entry of what? Her husband's penis? Fat chance of that happening. Damn Horace! Mary was beginning to think he loved spending time with his airplanes more than he loved her. Or maybe he was getting some young stewardesses on the side? Why should he want to do that? Mary thrust out her tits even farther. She was a piece of ass, wasn't she?

One hand went up to her left nipple. Yes, dammit, it felt so good to caress her own breasts. And the sensations! They shot right out to meet the others coming from between her legs. She was going to cum. She knew it! She had to!

Mary let go of her clit and her tit just long enough to hitch up the stockings she'd smuggled into the lavatory with her. Then she gazed at herself. What a spectacle! What a lewd and wanton woman she was! And it made her gush all the more from her vagina to know that she was dressed this way. The black lace and the black silk sizzled against her skin. She was getting hotter and the flames were being fanned by the frantic action of her fingers. They worked and worked! Harder and harder! That left nipple was whipped right up to a firm, erect bud and the hand went to perform its magic on her other tit. Her other hand swirled round in the valley of her vagina and then took its turn nipping at her clitoris. The little bud leaped at the touch. It wasn't exactly inexperienced in the ways of pleasure. After all, this was one pussy that had known a lot of orgasms. This clit and cunt were just mad, crazy, insane for new and better ways to find orgasmic bliss.

Mary's middle finger was penetrating her pussy far, far up, practically to her womb. She shouted in pain as she scratched sensitive tissue, as she tore away at herself in her quest for fulfillment. She cared only about one thing, and it didn't matter if she hurt herself on the way.

Then it happened. Her fingers couldn't keep it up as long as an electric vibrator. She was using every bit of her strength, all the energy she could possibly muster. And her pussy was taking it all, transforming it into blasts of power such as she had never before experienced. This was better than that fucking husband of hers! This was real woman sex!

Mary was sinking now. No more hands on her tits. She was grasping the edge of the sink to avoid collapsing onto the floor. But the other fingers kept up their attack on her clit and cunt. She was going to carry that one through, all right! The blasts were cumming and cumming! This was a multiple orgasm session! A jerkoff like she hadn't had in ages!

Mary tried to stifle her cries of ecstasy. She didn't want anyone to know what was going on in here. She wouldn't wan them to worry. They didn't have to. This was so, so good! And it was only the beginning!


CHAPTER THREE

The warm bath water soothed Mary's flaming pussy. She was so sore she couldn't believe it. Now she knew what Jackie meant when she'd said she wasn't sure she could ever cum again. Only there was a difference. Jackie had been brutalized by that boor Crocker. Mary had chosen, even if she had been driven by her passion, to do this number on herself. Had she ever cum back there in the office! She'd lost count of the orgasms that had blasted forth from her cunt. But there was that other thing that worried her so much. It was on her mind even now: lesbianism. All that pussy drooling she'd done over Kathy this afternoon. And that Baroness! And her masturbation fantasies? Hadn't they all been inspired by those other women? Or by the exotic presence she made there in front of the mirror, all gussied up in a sexy black lace waist cinch and black silk stocking held up by the garter straps that dangled down from that tight cinch?

Where were the dreams of men and their cocks in all of this, Mary wondered? She sure as hell couldn't remember any.

She reached a hand under the bubbly bath water. Why? Because that's where her clitoris was and even though it hurt like hell, she just couldn't keep her hands off it! She couldn't stop playing with herself. She couldn't stop wanting orgasm after orgasm.

Mary nearly jumped out of the water! She touched it! She screamed! She was in pain. The waves of sensation spread throughout her body from the area between her legs. She moaned. She cried softly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She was so frustrated now. She just had to touch herself, but every time she did, spasms of pain burst forth from that tender, sensitive little bud of her clit. What was she going to do?

Mary needed to find a solution. She had to figure out something fast. Her pussy demanded it! It was taking charge of her whole life! Would her career matter any more after her lusting genitals asserted total domination?

An enema bottle lay on a shelf near the bathtub. Mary's eyes alighted upon the length of rubber tubing attached to the bag. She had an idea. She reached for the bag and filled it with warm, soapy water. Then she attached the hose. Once again she let her hand slip beneath the bubbly surface of the bath. Only this time she held the hose. Slowly, carefully, she parted her pubic hairs and the lips of her pussy. She took care, even though she was in an excited state. She didn't want the neighbors to think she was getting raped or anything. And she didn't want to do any more damage to her clit if she could help it. She'd already called up her gynecologist and made an appointment for the next day.

She'd done it! She was squeezing the enema just as she did when she was constipated, only now the warm, soothing water was shooting into her pussy instead of her asshole! It was working, all right. The stream was bubbling up inside her, swirling around that inflamed little bud, the seat of her sexual pleasure. And even though she was so very sore, Mary could feel the stimulation. All over again! The first faint hint that an orgasm was on the way. And maybe more than one! Was she going to drown here in her bathtub? Was she going to be the victim of too much sex3

The hot water was igniting her all over. The waves were spreading out from down there, making their way up along her spine, out to the tips of her tits, out to her fingertips, up to her lips. She wanted to kiss, suck, diddle and fuck! She wanted to ball with all her heart, with every bit of passion that could throb through her body! She was a bitch in heat!

There was a mirror next to the tub and Mary was able to recognize her blurred reflection. She was in a transport, a state far removed from the realities of the business world. She was an idealized picture of the woman in ecstasy! This was how she wanted to be remembered. This was the mark she wanted to make in history!

She was going to sink. This time her insane cuntlust was going to kill her, make her drown! She kept on squeezing that enema bag and the water kept coursing, shooting into her. There was no stopping it! All the strength she had was being channeled to her squeezing fingers. And all that warm water was spraying her insides.

Mary began to pant. The swan song of a drowning woman? More moans and cries passed from her lips. Those other lips of hers, the ones beneath the water, gulped and gurgled and the waterjet kept up its incessant spray.

She was cumming! Just like this afternoon in the office! And she wasn't even touching herself with her fingers now! Nothing so brutal! Nothing so harsh! She'd found a new way to get off! A wonderful, fulfilling, soft way to pleasure herself for hours on end!

The cumming just would not stop! Mary felt like she was approaching the finish line in a marathon race! Was she even going to be able to survive these blasts? She was about to explode! The top of her head, her nipples were just going to blow out! She was so full of sensations. Her pelvis could not contain the spasms! There just wasn't enough of her to hold all this pleasure!

What a way to go! The strength finally drained from Mary's fingers. The enema bag went splashing into the tub. The rubber hose fell across her tits. Mary slid down further into the tub. She was exhausted by the ordeal. But she knew that she needn't be afraid. This was such an incredible day of discovery for her. She thought she'd known so much about sex! She'd been balling with guys since her high school days. She'd been fingering herself since she was twelve or thirteen. Big deal! She was just on the threshold of a breakthrough. And it was going to be so sweet!

Mary struggled to regain her breath. That cum session had really taken a lot out of her! And she had a date with the Baroness. Wasn't she president of one of the hottest ad agencies in the country? Wasn't she supposed to be out there in the marketplace pitching for the fattest accounts? This was the cosmetics queen of Europe who'd flown into the Windy City just to check her out!

She was standing outside the tub now, toweling herself. That bush of hers appeared in the mirror and she couldn't take her eyes off it. The sight of that pubic hair fascinated her, just like those little darkish buds of her nipples that stuck out so far right now. They appeared so proud, so happy that they were receiving so much attention.

But Mary had to hurry. She didn't have all the time in the world. And she didn't want to be late. She didn't know the personal quirks of the Baroness and she didn't want to displease her in any way.

Mary finished drying herself quickly and hurried to her dressing room. She would have to be especially careful, she knew, in choosing clothes for tonight. The Baroness had made the best dressed lists every year for as long as Mary could remember. She was sure the woman would be watching to see how she dressed and handled herself. The Rosa von Katzenbusch account, Mary was convinced, wasn't about to be handed off by its proprietor into the hands of some Midwestern yokels. She had to go all out tonight. She had to look her best. It would require all of her fashion models' art.

Mary searched through her closet. It was a huge, walk-in affair that contained dozens upon dozens of dresses, suits, skirts, shoes, everything that a rich woman could possibly have. Mary concentrated upon one rack where she kept a quantity of dresses she usually wore for entertaining. She mulled a moment. Then she selected a simple, black garment from an American house. She wanted to show the Baroness that Americans knew how to dress themselves and do it well. An act of daring, perhaps. But Mary had not built her career on caution.

Underwear. Mary reached for a chest of drawers that held her lingerie. Then she stopped. She remembered all the lovely new things she'd brought home this afternoon. She thought for a. second. Then she decided. They made her feel good, didn't they? Weren't garter belts and stockings coming back into style? Wouldn't the Baroness appreciate the look of real silk?

What, exactly, would the Baroness appreciate? It was so easy to think of her as being a fancier of silk and lace. But the other thing weighed heavily on Mary's mind. The lesbian thing. The Baroness had asked her alone to dinner, hadn't she? And all that drooling from her pussy during the afternoon? Of course, Mary wasn't able to forget Jackie's story about going out to a lesbian bar last night and picking up a young chick to ball. Was the Baroness going to put the moves on her tonight?

Mary had no idea. But she did realize one thing. The idea of going to dinner with the Baroness was a whole lot more appealing now than it had been earlier. She didn't know why. But she was sure of it.

Mary dropped her floor-length bathrobe and stood naked in front of one of her full length mirrors. She admired her body for a moment and then she began to powder and perfume herselfwith the Baroness' line of cosmetics, of course. She dabbed talcum around her pussy. The stuff fluffed in her pubic bush. Then Mary noticed. She was dripping again! She could feel it! This horniness just wouldn't leave her alone. A hand slipped down to her crotch. Once again, sensitive fingers made their way through her freshly powdered pubic hair. They probed, they searched. They parted the lips of her pussy in a quest for that elusive little clit bud that exerted such control over her. Mary jumped. Yes, she was still quite sore. But now, this time, there was a weird kind of pleasure mixed in with that first sensation of pain. It interested her. It had a kind of hold of its own over her. She touched herself again. Again she jumped. The pain was real. But wasn't her hand slipping down below her waist for still another go at her clit?

She wanted to go down on her just one more time. Mary watched herself in the mirror. She was fascinated with this bizarre behavior. And it was beginning to make her afraid. She was turning into a sex maniac! She was going to lose her presidency at the agency if she didn't straighten herself out. She wasn't going to get this cosmetics account from the Baroness if she didn't do what that crazy dyke wanted her to do! If the Baroness wanted to ball, Mary knew, she was going to do it. And she was going to love it! Lesbian or not, her pussy wasn't raging for nothing.

With a firm hand now, Mary reached for that waist cinch with its dangling garter straps. And she brought forth a fresh pair of black silk stockings. What the Baroness might want, she was going to get, all right.

Mary slipped into the lingerie and looked at herself in the mirror. She was entirely satisfied. Then she sat down to apply makeup with the firm hand of a professional. The black dress hung nearby. A second glance told Mary she'd selected the right one. There was only one more question.

Should she perfume her pussy any more? Or should she just let herself go natural and maybe have the Baroness pick up the scent?



CHAPTER FOUR

Mary stepped out of the cab in front of the restaurant. She noticed that the doorman was staring at her had then she realized why. Her skirt had hiked up and exposed the top of her stocking and a bit of the garter strap that held it up. She'd forgotten how to handle the things. Stockings that is. It had been so long since she'd worn them. And it probably had been a while since the doorman had seen them. Pantyhose had been the rage for so many years. She smiled at the doorman as she passed him by. She thought to herself that she'd just found, rediscovered, another way to flaunt her femininity in front of men. And maybe women as well?

The maitre'd greeted Mary at the door. She was well known to him and he always treated her very, very well. He mentioned that her dinner companion, the Baroness, had not yet arrived and suggested that she make herself comfortable in the bar. Mary considered that was a good idea. She needed a drink. A nice strong one. Horace had called just before she'd left the apartment, and she just wanted to forget the conversation. The bastard had reminded her that she'd promised to fly to Europe with him tomorrow evening. There was an Air Transport Association meeting that he wanted to attend. And he'd said that he wanted to take in a Grand Prix auto race as well. How she'd ever promised to go along with him astounded Mary. And that he should even want her with him was a source of amazement as well. Had his airline run out of stewardesses or something? Crocker and Horace, Mary cursed. They were like peas in a pod.

And then there was her pussy. Her lovely, scented, defiant pussy. She was flaunting her femininity even here as she stood at the bar. She was sipping a double martini and daring everyone in the world to come fuck her. She wondered if all the cocks of the businessmen in this room could provide her with as much sensual pleasure as her fingers or that water spray she'd turned on her cunt back in the bathroom. What did these guys know about giving pleasure to women, anyway?

There was a commotion at the door. The Baroness made her entrance in what, Mary was sure, was something of an unobtrusive way for the likes of a living legend in the cosmetics business. The woman was stunning in a long blue gown. Her dark hair was expertly coiffed, but then Mary had heard that she took her own hairdresser with her whenever she traveled. Of course, the glitter of the Baroness' jewels practically lit up the dark dining room.

The maitre'd brought the two women together and then led them off to a very private corner.

"I left my two retainers to enjoy dinner in their hotel," the Baroness commented. "I thought it would be most enjoyable to make this a women's affair."

Mary certainly appreciated that. She didn't care if she ever met those two faggotty creeps again. With her it was all or nothing. She couldn't stand sissies any more than she could take guys like her husband and Crocker.

Drinks arrived and soon the two women were in a deep discussion of business affairs, of the Baroness' plans for her cosmetics line and Mary's ideas about marketing. Their talk lasted through a couple rounds of drinks. Neither woman seemed in any hurry to order dinner. Mary was beginning to become used to the woman from Europe, now that she had gotten over being bowled over by her grand entrance into her office. And Mary did know something else: her pussy really was running wild over this woman. There was no doubt about it now. She was leaking onto the leather seat. She was going to leave a stain of pussy juice when she got up! And she was going to be proud of that stain. How many other women in this place could manage to get up and get off? Not too damn many, Mary thought. I'm going to show them, all right!

Mary shifted in her seat and thrust out a leg to one side of the table. There was a slit on the side of her dress and the black material dropped right away, leaving a great expanse of silken leg exposed to the view of the Baroness. Mary had given her the bait. Was she going to take it?

Hook. Line. Sinker. Mary saw the woman's eyes dart immediately to survey her calves. Mary shifted a little more. Ever so little. A bit more dress fell away. Silken thigh appeared, along with a tiny flash of stocking top. Mary wondered how long it would be before her pussy juice seeped right out from under her dress. Already she felt like she was sitting in some kind of pool. She sniffed the air as unobtrusively as she could. No sign of scent yet. But it wouldn't be long.

The Baroness went on and on about the latest in eye shadow, mascara and cologne, all the while stealing glances at Mary's legs. Mary had chosen her shoes wisely, it turned out. She was wearing the highest heels she owned, and they flattered her beautiful legs to a very great degree. She couldn't help wondering whether the Baroness' pussy was watering as much as her own. Was she going to make Jackie's story about picking up some chick in a dyke bar look positively small time? Wouldn't that be something?

But joking aside, Mary knew that her pussy was really eager. She'd noticed a bunch of professional football players sipping drinks in the bar, the kind of guys she used to ball all the time when she was modelling for a living. Funny thing, but they didn't seem to interest her much at all this evening. It was this Baroness who was really getting her worked up.

A third round of martinis arrived. How was it going to happen, Mary wondered? Was she supposed to make the first move, or was her dinner companion an old hand at these matters?

The conversation was beginning to shift now, away from all the business talk to more personal things. It was almost as if the pair were playing a game. They seemed to be trying to find out a bit more about each other's backgrounds, about their interests, and about each other's views about men and women and their relations with each other.

The Baroness uttered a lot of old world wisdom. Mary had expected that, if only because the Baroness looked like she had really been around. She was the very personification of the sophisticated woman. Indeed, that was the basis on which she plugged her cosmetics. But she wasn't really that old. Well preserved late middle age, Mary figured. Extremely well preserved. No doubt the kind of woman who devoted several hours each day to making herself beautiful. And it worked, all right. And there was something else. The Baroness absolutely exuded sex. She was reputed to inspire hardons in men decades younger than she. And watering pussies? Mary wondered if she was going to ruin all her new, expensive underwear dripping into her panties like this. She would just love to see what the Baroness was wearing under that gown of hers. She would just love to see the Baroness' snatch. She wondered how it compared to that jet black mane she had piled atop her head.

Dinner came. It was a special dish. The Baroness had called ahead and asked the restaurant to prepare a special dish for her. They had, of course, obliged.

Mary agreed that the food was delicious. But she could hardly taste it. There was the other thing on her mind, the only thing she could think about. Was her pussy juice dripping onto the floor by now? Could the Baroness, even the captains and the waiters, pick up the scent of her lusting cunt yet? And the lust was spreading like wildfire away from her pussy to every other part of her. Was she going to faint dead away right here into the lap of this woman. Mary was fixating, flashing on her hands, her eyes, those well-preserved tits swathed in that rich blue gown. She was sweating with passion. She was horny as hell. She had to get out of here and get the Baroness into bed! What did she care if she was a dyke as long as her pussy was satisfied?

Dessert. Coffee. A liqueur. And then the Baroness' hand found its way across the table. Those long, blood red fingertips touched softly upon Mary's hands, wrists, lower arms. She was sizzling! She was on fire! Her pussy was aflame! White hot with passion! Couldn't she smell herself, Mary asked.

"I want to make love to you, my beautiful darling," the Baroness said.

Did Mary hear her correctly? Did one of the most stylish women in the world just tell her that she wanted to ball her? She gazed into the eyes of the woman who had just offered her physical love.

The Baroness smiled. She had really meant it. And now there poured from her lips a torrent of delightfully obscene language. She was telling Mary in vulgar, bathroom terms, exactly what she thought of Mary's beauty, exactly what she wanted to do with her, how she wanted so much to engage in a definitive lesbian fuck.

"Did you know that I was a lesbian?" the Baroness inquired with a knowing gaze.

"No. No." Mary answered. She was out of breath with desire for this woman. She was also lying through her teeth.

The Baroness laughed.

"Ever since I saw your picture in a magazine a few years ago, I have wanted to fuck you," the woman stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

Mary was too excited to even be surprised. "My pussy has been dripping since I walked into your office today, my pretty darling."

"My cunt is drooling for you, Baroness," Mary gasped. "I have to have you. I can't wait any longer. I want to strip those beautiful clothes off you and see your naked body in all its glory."

The Baroness smiled.

"Call me Rosa," she said. "And let's get out of here."

The women rose from the table and left the restaurant walking arm in arm. Actually, Mary was more or less leaning on the Baroness for support. And while they were riding back to the Baroness' hotel she placed her hand on the women's thigh. It was the first time in her life that she'd ever copped a feel from another woman. And the Baroness welcomed her, taking her hand into her lap and rubbing it all around in her crotch. That crotch felt so warm and wonderful! Mary was so excited to see what delights awaited her when the Baroness doffed her clothes. She was trying as hard as she could to figure out just what kind of underwear the Baroness was wearing and she put her own thigh up against the woman in hopes that she would feel her up and understand that she was wearing real garters. Of course, Mary remembered that the woman had already noticed her genuine silk stockings.

"Very nice, my pretty darling," the Baroness commented.

Mary was standing in the middle of her hotel sitting room. She was showing herself with all the skill she had acquired as a professional model. She was good at it. Only now, instead of showing high fashion dresses, she was showing off her own body. And she was dressed only in her waist cinch with silk stockings, her high heeled sandals, and her makeup.

She could see that the Baroness approved. "Play with yourself, my dear," the Baroness ordered.

Mary gasped. Did she hear the woman correctly? "Masturbate! I want to see you pleasure yourself!" the Baroness commanded.

Despite all the crazy things going through her mind, Mary knew that she had understood the Baroness. But why was the woman asking her to do such a thing? Could she do it? She'd never even thought of playing with herself in front of anyone else. It was lewd! It was obscene! It was foul!

Now the Baroness snarled.

"Masturbate or I'll punish you!" Her voice was so loud it was practically a shout.

Mary suddenly was scared. What was this woman going to do to her?

The Baroness' gown suddenly dropped away. Mary did a double take! The woman was wearing a black leather corset! She'd never seen anything like it before! It must have come out of some sadomasochism movie! And the woman was coming toward her!

There was a suitcase on a stand at the foot of the Baroness' bed. She reached inside and pulled out a leather riding crop. She made a threatening motion. The whip slit the air with sharp strokes.

"I want you to be a bad, bad girl!" The Baroness spat the words from her mouth. "You've been a prissy, goody-goody too long!"

"No! No!" Mary answered. "I've fucked a lot in my life. I've had more men than you've ever dreamed of." The Baroness scowled and beat the air with the riding crop.

"Men! Fuck men! They don't know anything about giving pleasure to a woman!"

Then the Baroness came over to Mary's side and lightly tapped the riding crop on her ass. The leather against Mary's skin had a queer effect. It wasn't threatening. It didn't hurt. Did it sizzle? Did it stimulate once more the gush of pussy juice from between her legs?

The Baroness put a hand on Mary's shoulder and whispered in her ear.

"Won't you play with yourself for your friend Rosa who loves you? You will look so pretty masturbating. I know you will."

There was a kind of pleading quality in the Baroness' voice. And Mary knew that her pussy was burning, aching to be touched, caressed, kissed, balled. She obeyed now, hesitantly at first. But then a hand slipped down to her crotch to do its familiar routine. Her hand was wet in a second. Her pubic bush was soaked! Mary jumped! She was still so sore down there! She'd forgotten all about it in the passion of the evening.

The Baroness recognized what was going on. She bent down and kissed Mary's crotch. She slathered her tongue around in Mary's pubic hairs. Her tongue was so warm and wet and soft. And it knew exactly what it was doing! Mary knew that the Baroness was no stranger to eating pussy!

Around and around the Baroness went. She licked and she kissed and she caressed Mary's buttocks with one hand while playing across her body with the riding crop with the other.

Mary was but a statue, an idol, standing in the middle of the room while the Baroness went about performing the rites of worship. But Mary wanted to ball. She wanted to cum. She was being so tantalized by all that was going on and yet she wasn't quite sure that she would get off without diddling her clit somehow. If only the Baroness had something like a water jet. But she was helpless before this woman. She couldn't even speak, let alone make some request for a particular kind of pleasure.

Then suddenly the Baroness stopped. She licked her lips, savoring for a moment the perfume, the natural scent of Mary's pussy. Then she went over to her suitcase once more and pulled out an atomizer, an ornate vial with a spray attachment.

"I have this compounded for me especially," she offered. "It will sooth that burning sex of yours."

Mary took the vial and sprayed some of it into her pussy. It was cool indeed, tingling and stimulating. Stimulating! Her pussy was playing such tricks on her. It demanded satisfaction, touching. And then when she tried to meet its request, it turned on her and screamed in pain!

"I want you to masturbate for me now," the Baroness ordered.

Mary looked up. The woman was standing above her now. The whip was poised in her hand. There was such a hard edge to her voice that Mary became afraid again. And there was something in her other hand. Mary gasped. It was an artificial penis! A hard, silvery dong!

Mary didn't know what to do. And she was such a professional, always so sure of her every move! She'd never balled with another woman before. How was she supposed to know anything? But her pussy was crying out to her. Even her tits seemed to ache with desire now. Her mouth craved to kiss, lick and suck! And her fingers wanted to touch!

Those fingers acted on their own now. They reached down between Mary's legs. They carefully parted her pubic hairs. Tenderly they spread apart the lips of her pussy. Gingerly, but with determination born of desperation, they sought her clitoris. There was no stopping this time. The Baroness' orders had had their effect. Mary was going to masturbate!

The pain was there! Her lips twisted. Her eyes blurred. But her fingers pressed on. Thumb and forefinger searched for that elusive little bud that was going to make her cum or kill her trying!

The Baroness was at her side, kissing her on the cheek, caressing her, whispering filthy words into her ear, flicking that leather whip ever so gently across Mary's ass. And it was exciting. What was this? Had Mary crossed that pain threshold and left it behind? Those weren't pain sensations spreading out from her cunt now! No. It was pleasure! Pure and simple and complex! And she was beginning to get into it, even though this other woman was sitting in with her on an act that she'd only done in private up till now!

The Baroness was pleased. Mary worked away at her cunt. And did she ever work away! After all, she had been a fashion model. She really was an exhibitionist at heart. It was just that jerking off in front of somebody else had required her to change gears a bit. Her were frantic, eager to make up for the time lost to that incredible soreness. She'd spread apart her pussy lips as wide as she could and she was alternately worming fingers as far as she could fit them up her cunt and nipping at her clit. Pleasure pain! That's what she was feeling! She was discovering a whole new world under the tutelage of this insanely sexual European woman! And she wanted more! She wanted to study under this woman!

And what was the Baroness doing now? Mary caught a glimpse of her out the corner of her eye. The woman was masturbating herself. She was swirling that monstrous dong around in a cunt wider that Mary would have thought physically possible! She couldn't imagine any woman being the owner of such a huge pussy. She saw so much pink! Lined on both sides with such fine silken black snatch hair that it looked carefully coiffed. What a luscious cunt! And it was taking every bit of that dildo!

But Mary had to concentrate on herself! She couldn't help it! Both hands were clawing away at her cunt now. She was turning into a maniac! She was losing herself! She was melting! She was cumming! And cumming! And cumming!


CHAPTER FIVE

Mary walked around her office. She was giving dictation to Kathy, but that wasn't the real reason she couldn't sit down. It was her ass. It was on fire. Nothing had ever hurt her so much in her life. And nothing had ever given her so much pleasure at the same time. She could hardly keep her mind on her work today. Her lesbian assfucking session with the Baroness was just about the only thing on her mind.

And she couldn't deny that it had been one of the most rewarding interludes of her life. The Baroness had opened up a whole new world to Mary even as she had opened up her asshole last night!

Mary had never taken it up the ass before. How inexperienced she was in the area of sex, even though she'd been to bed with a fair number of men and had masturbated for years. There were so many nuances, so many pleasures which had remained mysteries to her. But now her mind was made up. She was going to seek out new things, new techniques, new experiences. She had made that vow last night even before she'd gone to dinner with the Baroness. She was going to do a lot more living for her pussy!

She'd already embarked on a course of study. Only this morning the Baroness had taught her how much pleasure could be obtained from a simple enema. How the warm water spraying against her bowels, how the rubber hose piercing the sphincter of her anus could combine to make her cum. And she didn't even have to touch or manipulate her cunt or clit at all! She'd done it! She'd really done it! The Baroness had given her that first blast of hot water up the ass, and her cunt had nearly blasted to kingdom come. And she'd inflicted the next shot on herself! She'd practically boiled the water. And the hotter the better! The second round of orgasms had been better even than the first! She hadn't wanted to stop. She hadn't wanted to leave the Baroness after spending such a glorious night there in her hotel, balling with her, kissing her on the lips and on all of her private parts, learning how to achieve heights of pleasure which she had never dreamed of. Was she falling in love with the Baroness? Was she acquiring a new, enduring hatred of her husband and everything that brutal man stood for?

It hurt. How it hurt this morning! Her asshole. Would she even be able to use the bathroom again. Or would she have to live on a liquid diet until she somehow healed. A visit to the proctologist should have been upmost on her mind. But it wasn't. She found herself staring at her secretary, surveying Kathy's physical charms with more interest than ever before. More than interest, really. She wanted to put some of those lessons from the Baroness into practice. She wanted to ball her secretary! Just as the Baroness had mounted her last night in that hotel room and shown her new pleasures, Mary wanted to take Kathy right here in the office. Now!

But how was she going to do it? What was she going to say. Mary knew that she'd never seduced anyone in her life. That hadn't been a woman's job. Even last night it had been the Baroness who had taken the lead in everything.

Kathy drew closer, ostensibly to double check a sentence. Her tailored ass was too much. The way her dress trousers hugged those beautiful ass cheeks was driving Mary up the wall. She wasn't sure she could remain in a state of consciousness for long. At the every least she would have to run into her hideaway and finger herself for the rest of the day. And while she was fingering her clit, she'd pump her bowels full of hot water. Even the thought of pain had receded from her mind now. Her horniness was too much. It was driving her mad. It drove her hand right out to touch Kathy's sensational ass!

It really did! Mary began to pant loudly, both with passion and in fear that her secretary would cry rape.

Kathy turned around. She smiled.

"I'm glad you like my rear end," she said. "More than that, my darling," Mary remarked. "I love your rear end. I want to ball you." "Right here?" Kathy asked.

Mary nodded. That was the command her pussy relayed to her nervous system, at any rate.

"I'm so happy you want me, Mary. I thought you'd never ask me to fuck and I've wanted to ball you from the moment I laid eyes upon you."

Those impeccable navy blue trousers slipped to the floor now, and Mary saw her secretary as she never had seen her before: clad below the waist only in the sheerest panty stockings. Her snatch hair was pressed hard against her crotch by the nylon. Was that a bead of moisture Mary spotted oozing forth from between the woman's legs? Was that the scent of flowing pussy juice that seemed to fill the air? Who's would it be? Mary's own crotch was gushing a torrent!

Kathy peeled off her pantyhose now, after setting her dictation pad down on a chair. She flaunted her bush back and forth in front of her boss. Obviously the girl knew how to get another woman all worked up over her. And Mary surely was.

She reached out to grab Kathy's ass, but the girl giggled and danced away out of reach. Mary leaned forward in an attempt to catch her and she nearly fell over. Kathy continued her dance, tantalizing her boss with her every move.

Mary tried something different. She merely lifted her skirt, exposing to view her silk stocking tops, her garter straps and her bare blonde snatch. That stopped Kathy from fooling around. Just what Mary wanted.

The girl stared at first. She was speechless. Then she moved closer and closer, her eyes fixated all the while on what lay there between Mary's legs. Kathy knelt down in front of her boss, grabbed one of Mary's stockinged thighs in each of her hands, and pressed her face right into Mary's crotch.

Mary let out a loud moan. A vibrating machine had just attached itself to her pussy. Kathy's mouth was working away at a ferocious rate. The girl's tongue made Mary's old vibrator seem primitive. She could hardly stand. It was only Kathy's iron grip that kept her up. Her tongue was so long! It flicked and licked and bit and gnawed. Mary thought she was going to cum right away. This hot bitch was even putting the Baroness to shame in the pussy-eating department and last night, before she'd reamed that dildo up Mary's ass, the Baroness had provided Mary her first cunnilingus.

But this was something else. This hungry tongue was working like a penis, worming its way right up Mary's vagina, seeking, seething, sizzling.

Mary's hands flailed in the air, then seized upon Kathy's coiffure in a desperate attempt to grasp something. She had to stop herself from flying out the window, didn't she? Mary was shouting now. She hoped that no one in the outer office could hear what was going on. How could she have lived all this time in ignorance of such perfect bliss, oblivious to the fact that her gorgeous young secretary was capable of imparting such pleasure? She was cumming now! Her clit and cunt couldn't take so much of this vibration without just blasting away. Mary clutched for dear life at Kathy's hair. It was the only thing tethering her to reality right now, and maybe the last thing that ever would. This girl was positively electric! If the Baroness ever got a hold on Kathy, she'd try to reproduce her in a laboratory.

The pair of woman danced back and forth across the thick gray carpet. Kathy was so strong she was not only eating Mary's pussy, she was carrying the woman around at the same time! Up and down, around and around! In and out! Mary's clit was desperately trying to meet Kathy's mouth halfway, hardening into female erectness, leaping to the kisses offered by the tongue in the younger woman's pleasure mongering mouth.

Mary somehow found herself sitting on the edge. of her desk. Kathy must have just set her down there. Now she was kneeling in front of her working her mouth with bizarrely renewed force. Was this a real woman or some kind of robot who was eating away at her crotch?

Pains shot up through Mary's buttocks, but only for a while. It didn't take her long to shoot right over that line the separated pain from pleasure. She was learning! She'd promised herself she'd master it. But she needed something else now!

Mary let go of Kathy's coiffure with one hand and drew it around behind her. She stuck out her middle finger with its long, sharp painted nail. She leaped up as much as she was able. Kathy still clenched her clit between her teeth, of course. But when Mary came down back onto the desk, she reamed right down on her upthrust finger as well. She'd done it! To herself! She was pleasuring herself right up her asshole, that new zone of sexuality which she'd only I discovered last night.

Her finger was sharp and it cut like a knife around the anal passage. But Mary was glad she'd filed her nails almost to a needle point. The more pain, the more pleasure! With Kathy sucking out there in front and her own finger fiddling with her asshole, she was really working both ends against the middle.

And was she ever cumming! She lost count already of the spasms, of the blasts, of the jerks. But she somehow found the strength to keep her finger going. And from Kathy's mouth there wasn't the slightest sign of a letup. She would have to make sure her secretary got a nice raise. Because she was getting a fantastic rise!

The next thing Mary knew she was laying on her desk in a puddle. A pool of saliva, sweat and pussy juice! Hers and Kathy's! Her secretary was sitting across the room in one of the high-backed leather chairs. She was still naked, and she had both hands in her crotch. And she was doing a number on herself with as much energy as she'd used on Mary's pussy a few moments ago. The girl never stopped!


CHAPTER SIX

Mary was arguing on the phone with Horace. The man was impossible to deal with. He never took no for an answer when he wanted something, but he often gave no in response when he didn't feel like accommodating another person. This time he was insisting that Mary join him at the airport for the flight to Europe. The conversation went on and on, back and forth. Mary wasn't all that frustrated though, because this time she had an advantage her asshole husband didn't know about. Her secretary was under her desk right this minute, and she was sucking on her clit, lolling the little bud back and forth on the tip of her tongue. It was steady and it was great, and though Mary was on the verge of cumming, she knew she could just sit and enjoy it for a minute. Then she'd get seriously into a few orgasms.

Mary tossed the advantages and disadvantages of flying to Europe back and forth in her mind. She had promised Horace. That was true enough. But how many times did he keep his promises to her? Not too damn often! Then there was the question of whether she wanted to do without the special attentions of her newfound lover: her secretary. There was a big account coming up for review on Monday and she really needed to have somebody around who knew how to transact the business. Realistically, Mary couldn't afford to have the work of the agency go completely to hell while she pursued the satisfaction of her pussy!

And then there was something else, an advantage to the trip perhaps, although Mary couldn't be so sure at the moment. The Baroness! She'd flown back to the Continent this morning! If only Mary could track her down over there, perhaps she could have another lesson!

Horace grew impatient. He began to raise his voice. Mary blotted out his rage. It was easy enough this time: Kathy had eaten her to the verge of climax. And as Horace began to thunder curses,

Mary just let her cunt go over the brink. The spite that she was showing made it all the more satisfying. She was cumming! In a last, frantic effort, Mary reached for the button on her desk and turned on the phone speaker so that she and Kathy could hear Horace spouting his bullshit while they got it on together.

Mary had to put her hand over the receiver for a second while the blasts kept coming. It was too much. She just really did have to scream.

"What the hell is going on there?" Horace demanded.

Mary mumbled something about meeting him at the airport and then she slammed down the phone.

She flung back her head. She waned to shout for joy. To hell with Horace! Here was her husband thinking he'd been making her life miserable for the last half hour and what had been happening to her? She'd been deep in the throes of ecstasy!

Kathy crawled out from under the desk. She was wearing a smile and her lips were glistening with pussy juice. There were even a few stray pubic hairs showing from between her teeth.

"You sure are a sweet little thing, Miss Springer," she said.

"That pussy of yours is the most delicious I've ever tasted."

"Have you eaten many?" Mary asked.

Kathy smiled again, as if she really didn't want to get into a big discussion about her sexual preferences, but she allowed that she had eaten a fair number of pussies in her time.

Mary listened with interest, although her secretary certainly was a quiet type, she was determined to glean from her whatever information she could provide about lesbian lifestyles. After all, Mary was new at the game.

Then both women burst out laughing. They realized that they were talking to each other here in the middle of a plush skyscraper office and they were both in states of undress. Kathy was completely naked. Mary was dressed only in her silk stockings and a lace garter belt. Clothes lay strewn about the carpet. And more importantly, a dense fog clouded their view of buildings across the street, and consequently their neighbor's view of them. In the heat of passion, the women had forgotten to do anything about concealing themselves. They could have been putting on a show for half the office workers of Chicago if it hadn't been for the weather outside. The two of them could hardly stop laughing.

"That sure would have been one way for both of us to come out of the closet," Kathy suggested.

Mary thought it was pretty funny too. But there were other things about woman-to-woman love that she wanted to know, and she began to question Kathy a bit. The girl warmed to her when she realized Mary's sincere attitude, and she began to talk openly about her feelings, her attitudes and, importantly, her techniques. Before long, the women were locked in a tender, loving embrace, touching, feeling each other's private parts And this time they made sure the drapes were pulled shut!


CHAPTER SEVEN

Mary got another round of those stares when she got out of the limousine at the airport. Yes, her skirt had hiked up once more and she'd treated the men on the sidewalk to a nice display of leg, stocking and garter. But she walked nonchalantly on. Since she was the wife of the president of one of the airlines serving the city, she received royal treatment, to say the least. A supervisor had come out to greet her and escort her to the First Class lounge.

A few minutes later she was sipping a drink and looking out the tall windows across the field. It was twilight and the rows of colored lights along the taxiways and runways created a fairyland outside. For a moment, Mary just forgot herself in a reverie of relaxation. Goodness knows, she needed to relax, if only to catch her breath and let her pussy recuperate a little from all the stimulation of the past two days. But did she want or need to recuperate? Wasn't her cunt a generative organ? And wasn't it dripping again even now? Mary was beginning to think that her real problem was a late blooming case of nymphomania. And that was hardly a problem!

What was doing this to her? Why had she suddenly burst forth from a slumber of bland heterosexuality? Why was she now an insatiable lesbian nympho?

A huge jetliner streaked across Mary's field of vision. The sight of her husband's name painted on the flanks of the aircraft jolted her back into the real world. He had stipulated that she meet him here at a certain time and, as usual, she had arrived punctually. And Horace was late. He hadn't thought to leave a message with the receptionist, either. Anger began to well from deep within Mary, but she held it back as best she could. She had decided she wasn't going to let Horace take up so much of her precious energy anymore. Now, she directed her thoughts once more to her pussy. Yes, it was certainly drooling with juice, just begging to be diddled. Would she run into the ladies' room and finger herself?

Mary realized that she was looking around the departure lounge now, checking out the passengers, checking out the women especially. What a measure of her new orientation! Only a short time ago she would have sat here, gazing at all the men who walked into the place, on the lookout for likely cocks. Now? She was trying her best to figure out who was a dyke in here.

There were a couple of candidates. Both of them were middle aged women. Mary wondered if the younger ones weren't quite a bit less obvious. Her young friend Kathy hadn't given her the slightest hint, but she sure had been a maniac when it came to sucking on pussy! Mary could close her eyes and feel that tongue in her cunt all over again! What a joy! She wondered now whether this afternoon's interlude had been but the beginning of an affair between her and that gorgeous woman. She had hated to leave her behind. But the business. Didn't men always make such sacrifices for their businesses? And the Baroness! Mary so much wanted to chase the Baroness down over in Europe, and she didn't want any jealousy trips to arise on the part of anyone. Was promiscuity arising along with lesbianism, Mary wondered?

No, she wasn't sure either of the women in the lounge would be balling material. And she couldn't forget that she'd not yet ever made advances to another woman, with the exception of what had gone on in the office today. Kathy had been so tender when Mary decided to leave, and after that conversation about techniques of woman love, she had insisted that Mary borrow a dildo that she kept in her desk drawer for use in the ladies' room. Kathy had told her that she wouldn't have time to stop at one of the erotic boutiques in town before she departed and that she could easily get another tomorrow. The thing lay packed away in Mary's luggage now, though she sort of wished she'd thought to bring it along in her handbag. That way she could use it during the flight. As for now, it looked like all the excitement she was going to have on the way over the North Pole was a series of handjobs in the lavatory, self inflicted ones at that.

Mary caught a few of the men in the lounge staring at her legs. They were a bit older than the average. Must have recognized the real silk stockings she was wearing. Sorry, boys, she thought with a laugh. These legs, this pussy are reserved for my own kind. At least for a little while. Would she ever want cock inside her again, Mary asked herself. She had to admit that there were times in her life when she felt that a cock in her cunt had been the greatest thing going. It certainly could occur again, couldn't it?

The front door to the lounge suddenly flew open and none other than Horace Lardner himself entered. There were several stewardesses trailing him. Mary wasn't jealous. They all looked pretty dumb to her. Horace had a penchant for dumb women. Mary had found that out after they were married. How she'd managed to hook up with him, she could never figure out. And he liked to surround himself with beautiful women. That was obvious. Were they fawning over him now! The stews, the supervisor, everyone else who worked for the airline was outdoing himself to show the big boss how good he was. And the trouble with Horace, Mary knew, was that he was taken in so much of the time. She didn't know how he'd managed to build a large international airline up from nothing. Luck, she guessed. If she ran her agency the way he ran his airline, she wouldn't have a business.

But enough of this bitterness, Mary told herself. Back to thoughts of her pussy. Back to checking out those stews. Yes, there was one who seemed to be somewhat out of the mold. In other words, she didn't look like a cheerleader. Mary swore that Horace went to football games all autumn long just to scout his next crop of stewardesses from among the cheerleaders. This one she had her eye on was handsome instead of showgirl beautiful and she looked sensitive and intelligent. She was also dark, something of the same coloring as the Baroness. She went against the grain of Horace's professed preference for blonde "gals" as he always referred to any member of the female sex.

Horace finally noticed her and left his stew friends long enough to walk over and say hello. He didn't so much as make a move to kiss her. And Mary had no desire to kiss any cheek right now that had any sort of growth of beard on it whatsoever. It was bad enough he was going to be spending the night in such close proximity to her as it was. Maybe she could slip away into a different row of the First Class section.

Horace had been talking all this time, but Mary hadn't been listening. She just stood there as he droned on. Of course, she nodded her head once in a while and things like that.

Mary kept her mind on the Baroness and that fantastic black snatch of the woman appeared in front of her face to take the place of Horace's image. What a delightful change, Mary thought.

How much of this airline meeting business and that damn auto race was she going to have to sit through, Mary wondered. So what if her husband's airline was sponsoring part of the event, couldn't she just disappear into London or somewhere for a little pussy-hunting under the guise of shopping? She wasn't actually sure where the Baroness was going to be, but a woman like that had to be able to be contacted somehow. It shouldn't be too hard. And there might be a lot of other possibilities among the beautiful women over there in Europe, far away from the hurly burly and gossip columnists here in Chicago.

Something Horace said actually did reach her ears. The bastard mentioned he was bringing along all these extra stewardesses to help with promotion at the auto race. They were in addition to the regular crew on the plane. Mary wondered how many he was going to ball on the trip.

The supervisor materialized with a couple of flunkies at each elbow and ushered them all down to another level. Priority boarding, Mary knew. She didn't mind the perks that with her husband's position at all.

A few minutes later the party was aboard the airline's newest intercontinental jet, one of the long range wide-bodied ones. Mary didn't pay all that much attention to the various models and things, though, goodness knows, Horace had tried to interest her in such things early on in their marriage. Now Mary was more concerned with checking out the legs of the stew who brought her a martini. Pretty good, Mary surmised. This woman was tall and fair, and she would just love to see what was up there beneath her skirt. A nice reddish bush, perhaps?

Mary had an idea. Didn't men ball back in those aircraft lavatories all the time? Who said you couldn't have some nice lesbian sex back there as well? Now, all she had to do was find a partner. And she'd certainly been looking, hadn't she. Those professorial types among the passengers might be possibilities, but somehow Mary had her heart, and her pussy, set on making it with one of the stews. It would be so sweet to put it to one of her husband's employees.

The jet began to roar, and a few seconds later the huge thing began to move to takeoff position. Mary was getting very excited, not because she was afraid of flying. Her husband's latest promotional gimmick had been to upholster all First Class seats in genuine leather and the feel of the stuff against her silken legs was driving her wild! Leather certainly had its appeal. The Baroness thought enough of it to wear leather underwear. Maybe Mary could draw a lesson from that as well. And hadn't Kathy instructed her to make sure to stop at some of the famous erotic appliance shops in Europe? The jet was beginning to vibrate now as it revved for its takeoff. The sensations made Mary's pussy drool more than ever. She couldn't believe it! But everything in the world seemed to be providing some sort of sexual stimulus to her. Why, she was going to leave a pussy juice stain right here in First Class!

Mary had a few more cocktails and then dinner was served. She was certainly hungry, but food wasn't exactly what was on her mind. She did enjoy all the attentions of the stews who served the elaborate First Class meal. She had more than one chance to really give them all thorough check outs. One, in particular, caught her eye. Another dark, intelligent looking woman not unlike the one she'd been attracted to back in the VIP lounge. But how was she going to make her move? When was she going to make it?

Mary found herself gazing out the window after a while. It was a clear night, and the moon was full. Maybe that's what had made her so horny. She laughed to herself. They were far, far north of Chicago now. The jet was flying high above what appeared as frozen wastes. They were flying the polar route, after all. Mary thought for a moment. There must be tons and tons of ice down there, more ice than she could ever imagine. How much could she melt with her white-hot pussy? Seriously. She wondered if she squatted down how much ice would simply wash away in the torrent of her blazing pussy juice. She laughed again. That just showed the state to which her mind had come.

Mary jumped. There was a hand on her thigh. "Hey, baby! Since when have ou taken to wearing real silk stockings?"

It was Horace. Mary should have known. And he hadn't taken his hand off her thigh. He was copping a feel, all right. Those fingers of his were running right up beneath her skirt. The bastard was playing with the tops of her stockings now, diddling with her garter straps. Mary didn't know what to do. She couldn't very well slap him and run out on him. She could tell he'd had an awful lot to drink. She'd had quite a bit herself. Horace was one horny guy. And he wasn't about to stop pawing at her.

"Wanna ball, babe?" he muttered. The liquor on his breath was staggering.

Did she want to ball? Well, Mary's pussy juice was running a torrent. And she was staining one of her husband's precious leather seats.

"Come on, babe. Give it to me. I can pull a blanket down and we can get it on."

Mary didn't say anything. But neither did she make any attempt to fight him off. There was the matter of a penis, after all. A penis. A dildo. A rock hard dong swirling around in her hungry cunt. It might be all she would get on this trip, unless she counted a possible jerkoff session. And she wasn't a committed dyke yet, was she? She could go back any time she wanted. She could even have it both ways.

Didn't Kathy tell her that she occasionally balled men as well?

Horace's hands were inching up under her skirt, getting closer to her cunt every second. When was the last time she had inspired such ardor on his part? She didn't know. What was it about this evening that made him so manic?

"Your silk stockings, babe!" he slurred. "They turn me on so much. I'm so rock hard it hurts, babe. I've got to cum. Won't you let me cum?"

Horace reached up to the overhead luggage rack and in a second the two of them were covered with the large blanket stowed up there. It took him only a second to arrange it over them so that people would think they were sleeping. Mary had to hand it to him. As drunk as he was, he accomplished the trick in a few deft moves. But then she figured that he had a fair amount of practice. When he was satisfied, he renewed his attack on her stockings and garters.

"Be careful, Horace," she said. "Or you'll run them. They're real silk and they cost me a small fortune."

Was that any way for a woman in heat to talk. She wanted nothing in the world more than to blast off in a blizzard of orgasms and here she was worried about her underwear. Talk about frigid. Mary flashed on all that ice thousands of feet below. And she knew that if it had been the Baroness or Kathy trying to pull off her stockings, everything would be changed. But it was neither of those women. It was her drunken husband, the lone ranging cocksman come home to cum. Probably because he didn't dare ball one of his beloved stews on the plane with her aboard.

Horace sank to the floor as well as he was able. He'd pushed Mary's skirt back up almost to her waist and he'd practically disappeared beneath the blanket.

Mary squirmed. She felt her new lace panties sliding down her thigh now, and then Horace struck. First it was his fingers. Those big thick pudgy fingers of his reamed right into her cunt. No careful parting of the pubic bush. No halfway tender separating of her pussy lips. There was pain. A great deal of pain. And Mary thought she'd left that all behind.

Horace really was a master, at finding positions anyway. Mary thought he must have built a stimulator simulator and kept it hidden away in a hangar somewhere.

Then his mouth hit her. Now she knew why they gave you extra room in First Class. Blowjob Class. Pussy Eating Class! Horace wasn't all that great a tongue artist. Not nearly as good as Kathy, darling Kathy. But then again, he was all that was in proximity to her pussy as the moment. A thought flashed through Mary's liquor-dulled mind: she might as well relax and make the best of it. She would try to pretend that it wasn't Horace crudely biting away at her cunt. She would imagine that it was...that favorite stewardess passed by the seat. Did she flash a knowing glance at them? Mary kind of thought so.

She tried to cum. She wanted to cum with all her might! She wanted to ball the pants off that beautiful stewardess! She just had to have that woman before this flight was over! She had to feel her tits! She had to kiss her on the lips of her pussy! She would! She would!

Horace was grunting and groaning down there between the seats. And he was working away so hard at her pussy that Mary began to feel some sort of personal pleasure if only out of sympathy for what he was trying to do. His fingers were so thick that it felt like ten penises were trying to drill into her at the same time. And how could she complain about that? He was pretty strong too, so she wouldn't have to worry about his fingers going limp. That had happened on occasion with his other organ!

The lips of her pussy were being stretched wide now, ever so wide! This man really didn't have much delicacy where lovemaking was concerned. No wonder he had to constantly replenish his supply of stewardesses, Mary thought. They probably never let him ball them more than once.

A speaking of a ball. Where the hell was her husband's cock? She hadn't been under the impression that this was going to be a mere handjob or even a blowjob. When Horace had talked about balling, she'd assumed she was at least going to have some bona fide cock in her cunt.

Rip! Mary felt the right stocking go. Not just any regular run. The bastard actually tore the thing right off her leg.

"Dammit, Horace!" she hissed. "I told you not to do that."

"O baby," he moaned. "I'll buy you another pair. A hundred pairs. I'll get you the best. I promise." Mary could tell that the man was half gone. If the sound of his voice was any indication, he should be collapsing at any moment. She'd heard him like that before. It meant that he was going to be a short hitter. But Mary knew that she had him. He'd never done anything like get off over her lingerie like this before. Was she supposed to be learning something about him from this? She certainly didn't need to blackmail him into anything. She was doing quite well on her own, thank you.

She struggled to grasp at some sort of pleasure, to pick something out of the rude sensations this man was inflicting upon her. They'd satisfied her so much so many times, but since she had discovered the womanly ways of pleasure as practiced by the Baroness and Kathy, well, Horace just couldn't really do it. Clit! Cunt! Penis! Penis! Didn't she still love the idea of a penis? She couldn't possibly be a confirmed, full-time lesbian, could she?

Mary began to work up and down in the seat. She struggled to grind her pelvis against Horace's worming fingers. If only he would bend down under there and lick her clit again!

"Eat me, Horace!" she screamed, though the shout was couched in a whisper.

Horace didn't answer. Self styled master of the skyball that he was, he dove down again. This time Mary saw him reach for the zipper on his suit pants.

A second later the man's dong was hanging out, right out! And he didn't seem to give a damn who saw the thing. He was so proud of it he wanted to show it off to everyone in the First Class cabin. Or did he? Was Horace just being crazy, Mary wondered? More to the point, she began to fear she was going to be cheated out of having his cock in her cunt.

Sure enough, there he was, standing up in front of her in the limited space available to him, his cock bared. He was waving it in her face, threatening her with it. As if a cock could be a threat to her! She was just glad there weren't any other people awake in the immediate area that she could see. And she was pissed off, too. There wasn't so much as a finger or a tongue in the general area of her pussy. Just a lot of shredded silk down there. Fuck this insensitive bastard!

Then it hit her in her face. The blast of sperm that shot out from Horace's cock. It wasn't the biggest shot she'd ever experienced. But it was enough to soak her coiffure and blot the vision of one eye until she could begin to wipe it away with her handkerchief. The jism was hot and Mary could swear that it was part alcohol. Horace didn't seem to set such a great example for his pilots. And did she ever feel cheated! This bastard hadn't even made good on his promise to ball. He hadn't even finished the handjob he'd begun much less the cunnilingus. If she wanted to cum any time soon, she was going to have to finish the job with her own fingers.

Horace was sinking fast, sliding back into his seat by her side. And Mary knew he was going to fall fast asleep. That was his habit, if she remembered correctly. What was she going to do, light a cigarette. She tried to give up smoking months ago and she thought she'd finally overcome the habit. Horace began to snore. Mary cursed silently. What had done it? Was this guy such a maniac for silk stockings and garter belts that he couldn't manage to hold his wad when she was wearing one? Was this new feminine lingerie too sexy to be worn when men were around. So many of them were just boys going through puberty. One glance at a sexy woman and they were ready to cum! To hell with them, Mary cursed. What did they know about giving her pleasure. The Baroness was right!

And cumming! That's what Mary wanted! And she wanted to cum now! She didn't want to have to do it with her fingers, either. She wanted to have some real sex before this plane set down in London. she wanted real pussy, real cock, real tongue! She wanted it all!

Mary had to go back to the lavatory, if only to clean herself up. Of course, she was probably going to diddle her clit when she got back there. There was no helping that, was there? Wasn't she a compulsive masturbator from way back? She somehow managed to slide out of her window seat without rousing Horace, who was snoring now.

She made her way up the aisle to the front of the plane. The lav was empty. She could see that and she was thankful. A couple of stewardesses were fast asleep in the front row. There was another stew standing in the galley, though. Mary recognized, her. She was the dark one, the woman that she had been so drawn to earlier, the one who'd passed by the seat when Horace had started to do his number on her. Mary's pussy was watering over this beautiful woman right now. She knew it! Her was the woman she wanted so badly to ball! She had to! She just had to eat this stew's pussy, caress her tits, maybe work her finger up the fantastically tight asshole she knew lay between those beautiful buttocks.

"Pardon me," Mary remarked. "Would you happen to have some of those little moist washup towels. I'm kind of a mess."

Mary knew she looked disheveled. She'd done her best with a paper napkin, but the dried cum had matted her hair and it was still hot and sticky all over the right side of her face.

The stewardess smiled knowingly. She handed over what Mary had requested.

Mary had to say it! She couldn't hold it inside any longer. This soul sister of hers had to be taken into her confidence!

"He really blew his wad all over me," Mary said, somewhat sheepishly. After all, she didn't know how this woman was going to react.

But the stew just smiled again. This time there was real sympathy in her expression.

"I know," the woman said. "I saw him. He did the same to me a couple of weeks ago on a flight from Dallas to Caracas. I hate to say this, but I think it's a test that all of us must endure if we want to work at this airline. I don't know a single woman working for this company who hasn't had to put out for him at one time or another."

"Is that so?" Mary's words were more in the nature of an observation than a question.

There was something else on her mind: this gorgeous stewardess. She really couldn't be bothered trying to ascertain her husband's sexual habits. What the hell did she care, anyway? But this woman gleamed in the half light of the galley. Her eyes, her complexion, she seemed so fresh after all these hours in the air. Mary wondered about the woman's pussy. It was sure to be fresh and delicious as well. She had to eat it!

"Is that better?" the stewardess inquired. She saw that Mary had finished wiping her face with the little towels she'd given her.

"Much better, thank you," Mary replied. "Now all I have to do is change these stockings that he ripped right off my legs."

The stew leaned over to take a look.

"Real silk," she remarked. "Gorgeous. Fantastic. And you've got lovely legs."

Mary's pussy perked up. The flow had been there already. Now it seemed she was gushing the juice. And she couldn't keep her eyes off the stew's long, shapely legs. They positively shone in the reflection of a small light near the floor. Mary wanted to touch those gorgeous legs herself, to run her hands up and down those lovely nyloned calves, to search upward along those sensuous thighs, up under that skirt.

What a delightful snatch must await her there. Why not, Mary thought? Why not just make her move?

She did! She whispered to the stewardess how beautiful she was, and then she reached out to touch her, first on a thigh, then on a tit. Then Mary leaned over to the woman and kissed her full on the lips.

The response was there, all right. This young woman was hungry, eager, willing and ready. She ate at Mary's lips like no one had ever eaten before. She gnawed, bit, licked in a way that seemed to indicate that she wanted to make love to Mary right on the spot.

"My pussy's drooling over you, you gorgeous thing," the stew gasped. "The moment I saw you board this plane back in Chicago, I was hoping and praying that you and I would get it on together."

It was so easy! Too easy, Mary thought. But it was thrilling and wonderful and she was going to have what was being offered to her, the love that this beautiful piece of sensuous, sensitive ass was proffering her!

The two women remained in a long, lingering embrace in the First Class galley. Frantically, hungrily, with the desperation of lovers who might be discovered and shamed at any moment, they explored each other's bodies, caressed each other's tits, undid the buttons on their clothing.

Mary nearly fainted when the full, firm curves of her new lover's tits bared themselves in the dim light. She reached out with trembling hands and began to tweak those outthrust nipples as though they were the most precious things she'd ever encountered. The stew cooed and moaned softly and she begged for more. Mary could feel the little buds hardening between her fingers, and as she became surer of herself she established a kind of caressing rhythm that seemed to lull the woman into a state of transport. And her own pussy was going wild. Mary was perfectly astonished that this act of giving pleasure to another bounced right back in stimulation to her own lusting body! It was thrilling! Transporting! She wanted it never to end! And she wanted to cum! Right here, thirty thousand feet above the planet, just down the aisle from her sleeping, drunken husband, she wanted so badly to be taken and balled by another loving woman!

"We have to ball!" Mary whispered, crazed with passion. "I just can't hold out much longer! I have to cum!"

The stew kissed her once more on the mouth and began to caress Mary's tits.

"I'm going to eat your pussy," she whispered in a soft, soothing voice. "We can fuck in the lav."

The stew led Mary across the aisle. Just a glance, a tiny break from the cloud of lust dominating her consciousness, showed Mary that the plane was dark and most of the passengers were fast asleep, And they were going to fuck right here! Right in the same place where men balled their "chicks" all the time!

The lavatory was small and cramped, but the pair managed to fit themselves inside and still hold each other in a warm, loving embrace.

Mary struggled to drop her skirt. Just one of her fingers brushing lightly through her pubic bush sent shivering sensations all over her. Her pussy was primed for orgasms! And she was going to lose count! She knew it!

The stew giggled.

"I love this," she said. "Businessmen do it all the time. It's such a page from those fuckers' own book."

Mary replied by taking her hand and placing it inside the waistband of her lover's panty stockings. Down and down she searched, until she came to the prize she'd known just had to be there: a thick, gorgeous, silken bush! It had to be black, just like the stew's hair. And she was going to love nosing around down there with her nose, tongue and teeth! "I can smell your cunt," the stew whispered. "It's real perfumey. I adore it!"

And then somehow, no doubt with the experience of many skyborne balling sessions behind her, the stew contorted herself and slid right down in front of Mary, right down so that her face was level with Mary's pussy.

Then Mary was struck! She was slammed right against the hard, cold wall of the cramped space with incredible force. This stew had a tongue action that was not to be believed! Mary feared for her clit. She was being eaten alive! She was going to die if she didn't learn to get into some rhythm with this woman! This tongue against her pussy, biting her clit, was almost like some kind of vibrating erotic device. The sheer intensity of the woman's tongue was enough to equal Kathy and the Baroness together. Mary knew she'd run into a mad woman.

But a real lover as well! This woman knew exactly what to do to draw maximum pleasure from her woman lover's body, and to provide the utmost in pleasure as well. Every lick and flick of her tongue, every touch and caress of her fingers was directed toward maximizing the fiery sex sensations flowing throughout Mary's body.

And sure enough, the stew's love had its effect. From those first few moments of fright, Mary had settled into a dance of pleasure, a tense, high-strung sexual relaxation. She was working! She was loving! She was balling!

And Mary was naked! How had her clothes come off? She didn't know. Had she somehow struggled out of them? Or had this wonderful, sensitive woman worked a kind of magic over her? She was raving naked! She was flying faster than the sensations spewed forth from her pussy! She was in outer space! Her pelvis was convulsing in wild spasms of ecstasy! She was cumming! And it had never been this good! Why she could even smell her own pussy now. Was she ever filling the tiny enclosed space with the perfume of her vagina! And still the spasms kept on coming. The young woman was eating her, fingering her and poking a middle finger up her asshole at the same time. Both ends against the middle again! Drilled from her asshole! Bitten at her cunt! There should have been pain. There had been pain, but it had long since dissolved into the greatest pleasure she had ever known. Mary was in love with this young woman. She wanted this balling session to go on for the rest of her life! She wanted it never to end! The orgasms! The constant cumming! To hell with her career! The agency! Horace! All that mattered now was this beautiful, sensitive, pleasure giving woman whose mouth was working magic between her legs!

And Mary was telling the stewardess everything that was on her mind! She was panting, gasping, whispering into her ear the most outrageous, loving compliments couched in delightful, obscene language. She couldn't believe the filth spewing from her lips. Mary hadn't even known she knew such dirty words. And now she uttered them with complete confidence, lascivious enjoyment. And every time she spoke a new one, the young woman's tongue seemed to probe deeper, her finger spurred on farther up Mary's asshole.

But Mary knew thee was one more thing she had to do in order to achieve total satisfaction: she had to give as good as she got!

Between the obscenities and her pelvic spasms, Mary managed to blurt out, "Let me do you!"


CHAPTER EIGHT

Mary was on the attack now. She was becoming used to achieving incredible sexual pleasure within the confines of the tiny aircraft lavatory. She had a great teacher, after all. Her woman lover stewardess was a master not only of the arts of lesbian love, she knew everything there was to know about adapting ecstasy to the conditions in which she lived and worked. And Mary added an element of her own: if bigshot male executives could ball their way to Europe, why couldn't she? Sweet revenge on Horace.

But there was something more immediate, right in front of her, right now: this beautiful pussy!

It was Mary's turn to dish out the pleasure now. She was the one who dove down to the level of her lover's snatch. How beautiful it looked in the half-darkness of the tiny cubicle: thick and dark and silky, just as Mary had imagined it. And the scent: strong and sweet! Just like Mary's own, perhaps even more used to being eaten by another woman. Well, Mary thought, she wasn't used to being called second-best at anything she ever tried. She was going to eat this woman's pussy like it had never been eaten before!

She pressed her face into the moist, burning crotch of her lover. And right away she knew she was partaking of one of the gourmet treats of life: sweet and pungent and so addicting that immediately she knew she would never, ever be able to eat enough.

Mary's probing, insatiable tongue parted the pubic bush as if it had approached a feast table in a starvation state! Pubic hairs, beads of pussy juice were tasted and devoured in a split second. What a delicious first course, Mary thought, with the best still yet to come! The maniacally aroused vagina before her face beckoned her! Demanded thut she come closer and eat to the point where she could eat no longer. Mary was getting blasted right in the face, it seemed, with spurts of pussy juice that this woman generated. She was being breathed upon by the hot, sweltering bellows that dwelled within the huge orifice that attracted her like a magnet. There was no turning back now! She was about to dive in, to attempt to place all of her madly lusting self inside this loving woman! She wanted to make this woman suffer such pleasure that it would kill her with its sheer ecstasy!

Mary's nose parted the lips of her lover's pussy. The sensitive skin guarding the stew's orifice was pink and tender, oozing with such thick lubricating juice as Mary had never imagined! If only her nose was some kind of dildo, she would have this woman cumming in no time! She actually wasn't doing such a bad job now! And the woman knew exactly how to move to maximize her own pleasure.

Was Mary going to suffocate? The huge vagina seemed to be completely enveloping her face! She was disappearing up into the raging cunt of this lesbian woman! She was going to be swallowed! The lips of the pussy were closing in around her! She was going to drown in the tidal wave of juice gushing forth! What a way to go! Her husband would open the lavatory door, and these two women would tumble out. Dead! Killed by each other's fantastic passions!

What was that Mary managed to grasp between her own lips for a brief instant? Yes! She knew it! A clitoris! That little pleasure bud that was the center of the universe for her, for so many women! She'd found it with her mouth in another woman's vagina! Mary was thrilled. And she knew the stew was too. Hadn't she felt just a little different spasm, a slightly more passionate jerk in her lover's pelvis when her lips had bitten into the bud?

Now she was going to get down to some really serious pussy eating! The clit sailed past her sucking lips once more. Mary clenched it! She lolled it about on the tip of her tongue. The lover woman shouted, panted, struggled. She jerked, worked. Her pelvis was overwhelmed with involuntary spasms. She was mad to get away, and stay at the same instant in time. The essence of pleasure and pain, Mary knew. She bit down. She sucked harder! She gnawed! She licked! She flicked! With all the energy she possessed, with all the strength and determination of a woman who had risen to the top bucking the enmity of a man's world, this was the art which she now applied to the task at the tip of her tongue. She had turned her mouth into an erotic device, into a sucking, vibrating machine!

And she was developing a few modifications of her own! She was doing more than just drinking in the female sexuality of her lover. She was recycling. giving it back tenfold! Mary's fingers searched the length and breath of the woman entwined with her.. They played over the huge tits that hung above her head, caressed the already erect nipples into rock-hard buds. Mary cupped her lover's buttocks in her hands, and then reached around even farther in a search for the wonderful anal orifice which she knew lay between the sensuous, arousing ass cheeks. And she found it! Tight and tiny! This was going to take some doing! And she was going to make her lover enjoy every minute of it!

Mary began to dig, worming her way with those sharp, painted fingernails of hers. The stewardess screamed. But Mary would not stop. On and on she drove, deeper and deeper! The tight anus resisted her every thrust, but that made her more determined. She was going to drill this woman from both ends. She was going to stick her middle finger so far up her asshole that Mary would be able to taste it in her own mouth. She was going to splay this woman in half, and make her love every bit of it! She was going to offer her as a death-sacrifice on the alter of lesbian love!

Mary had to use all her strength to keep her lover from sailing right out of her grip. The little room had turned into a chamber of love-horrors! The scent of pussy juice had replaced the oxygen in the atmosphere here. The two women were breathing, existing only on the pure, unadulterated physical love of each other! What did they need mere air for any more?

The stew began to gag, to shred the air with pleas for mercy and demands for even greater thrusts on Mary's part. And Mary was only to happy to oblige, to extend her physical passion to the limit. Her tongue picked up the rhythm again, this time at an even pace. Her fingers worked harder and harder. She now had her middle finger probing the border of her lover's bowels, and two others demanding admission to the mouth of her anus!

And there was something else: Mary was on the verge of cumming again! She was going to start a whole new round of orgasms on her own! And she hadn't so much as touched a finger to her clitoris, or reamed a thing up her own asshole! But she was cumming! Her own pelvis was beginning those familiar jerks! She was working back and forth! The marvel of it! The wonder of it all. The very act of inflicting pleasure upon her soul sister had returned to her in the form of her own ecstasy! It was as though every lick on her lover's clit was a lick on her own! Every other plunge up her lover's asshole was another thrust past the mouth of her own tender anus!

Could men accomplish some total love like this? Hardly! No way! This was the summit, the zenith of woman love! She had achieved it! She had arrived! Mary had studied under the best! She learned her lessons well and now she was taking her place at the head of the class!

How long could the two of them keep this up? That was the question. But it was hardly in the forefront of their consciousness. Orgasms completely dominated both these women. Nothing else mattered to them besides this rampant satisfaction. When would they have to come down from cumming? They didn't know. They didn't care. This could have been an interplanetary flight, a journey to some far corner of the universe where all that mattered was sexual satisfaction, where everyone lived only for orgasms!

Finally, the passion began to dissipate to a degree. The fierce, death lock embrace in which the two had entwined themselves eased into a more tender, loving series of caresses. Their wild-eyed, faraway expressions slowly changed into a greater consciousness, an awareness of each other's presence and importance. The mouth-pussy contact soon turned into mouth-mouth, long lingering kisses that accompanied the dying, still firing sensations in each other's vaginas. Once a pussy was set aflame, it just couldn't be extinguished in a matter of moments. Both women had an intense understanding of that, that this was the time to enjoy the aftermath of total orgasm, a chance to linger in the arms of each other.

They were practically swimming in the arms of each other: their bodies glistened with sweat, poured with perspiration. Their thighs reeked with thick, slathering coats of the liquid that had poured from their crotches. The atmosphere of the lavatory was redolent, charged with physicality.

It was now, lying in each other's embrace, that the two women began to replay what they had just done, to relive vicariously the experience they had just gone through. They talked softly, of vaginas and clitorises, tits and assholes, thighs and buttocks, and of the love they shared for one another and for all women.

"I love you," the stewardess said. Then she kissed Mary on the lips once more.

"I love you too," Mary whispered. She took a long, lingering look at this beautiful young woman. She was convinced that she did, indeed, love her.


CHAPTER NINE

Mary struggled to put herself back together as best she could. It wasn't easy. Horace had totally wrecked her underwear. And the steamy atmosphere she and stewardess had generated in that lavatory had taken every crease out of her dress. Her shoes? She'd finally found them somewhere beneath a seat in the forward part of the cabin. 

But she was never so satisfied in her life. Her vagina was so warm and wet and comfortable. She'd want sex again in no time at all. She was convinced of that, all right. But right now she lingered over the interlude she'd experienced with her stewardess lover. It was so sweet! Her pussy had really been used for all that the thing could do! Now she'd have something to show Kathy and the Baroness and any new lovers that she might encounter. She didn't have anything to worry about in her practice of the art of lesbian love. She didn't have to be bashful about making advances to women anymore. She knew what to do with her mouth, her hands and her pussy. She knew she could give as good as she got! She'd pleasured this young woman to utter and complete satisfaction! And she was proud!

Mary ground down in her seat. She was wearing panty stockings now. They were a gift from her lover. And they felt so good! Just the fact of knowing that that beautiful woman's legs had once been clad in this nylon was enough to make her pussy start to drool all over again! Her buttocks, her thighs, her toes all drew inspiration from these stockings. And her crotch? She couldn't wait to slip back into the lavatory, pull them down, and press the crotch to her face!

Mary looked over at Horace. He was still asleep, the brute! He was in the same position as when she'd left him to go to the interlude with her lover. She tried to put him out of her mind, but it was next to impossible. They would be in Europe in a matter of a couple of hours, and then he was going to begin another round of making demands upon her, directing her every move. Even the sensations emanating from between her legs weren't enough to ward off her fears and anger as far as Horace was concerned. She had to find some way to thwart him, to get him out of her life so that she could be free to lead it as she so chose. She had to find the Baroness. She didn't want to lose the love of her lovely stew. And she wanted, she had to discover a whole continent full of sensuous delights! Yes, her pussy was practically drooling now with the thoughts of what she was going to find in Europe. She'd been there before, several times in fact. But she'd never made the trip with the kind of orientation she had now. She'd never gone with the idea of fulfilling the demands of her pussy. And doing only that!

She looked over at Horace. He was sleeping across the aisle and he was snoring loudly. At least she hadn't felt obliged to crawl over him just so that he could find her there beside him. Thank goodness, Mary thought, that she had passed that point in her relationship to him. Come on, she ordered herself, don't dwell on him. She had so many other things, wonderful things about which to think. And there was her lover up there in the galley at the front of the cabin. If only the two of them could get right back into that little lavatory and have another balling session! If only they could eat each other's pussies all the way to London!

Streaks of light were beginning to appear in the sky on the right side of the plane. Mary watched carefully. It wouldn't be long now, she knew, before the sun made its way above the horizon. A new day! A new continent! What else was in store for her on this trip? What new lovers would she meet?

There was a gentle tap on her shoulder. Mary turned around. Her stewardess lover was standing there next to the seat. She was completely fresh, positively radiant. She seemed ready to do it all over again!

"Pantyhose fit okay?" the woman asked in a whisper.

"Of course," Mary answered. "But the way I'm drooling into these, I'll need a fresh pair in no time. Just thinking about the way we balled back there makes me wet my pants."

The stew bent over and planted a kiss on Mary's lips.

"You were just terrific," she said. "I'm sorry I don't have one more pair of panty stockings to leave with you. But I do have this."

She handed Mary. a small object tied in a lace handkerchief.

"I want you to have this as a remembrance of the way we got it on back there."

"I hope it wasn't the last time we'll be together like that," Mary said.

"Don't worry about that," the woman remarked. "We'll get together soon enough."

Then she disappeared down the aisle into the rear section of the plane. Mary had turned to watch her as she walked. Those long, stockinged legs, the wiggle of her ass conspired to make Mary's pussy drool even more. So she was going to stain another one of Horace's expensive leather seats! She was going to love it! She ground her thighs down as hard as she could. The feel of the upholstery and her lover's stocking gift made her ass and her crotch sizzle! Any second now her pussy juice was going to soak right through!

The gift! She had to find out what the stewardess had left with her. She untied the little package. Curiosity was nearly her undoing. She just couldn't imagine!

And then when she finally got it open, Mary couldn't believe! A dildo! An artificial dong for her pussy's delight! How loving and generous her lover was! What a wonderful thing to remember her by! Something that would help to recreate the sensations she'd experienced in their fantastic balling session!

Mary caressed the plastic penis-like thing in her hands. She would really know how to pleasure herself with this thing, now that all those new sensations and erogenous zones had been opened up within her! She was ready! Ready now! Her pussy was drooling at the sight of the thing as it sat there cradled in her hands. It was hard! It was eager! It was time!

Mary arched up her pelvis and slid her pantyhose down onto her thighs. Then she pointed the dildo down between her legs and thrust it into her pussy. She moaned in reaction to the pleasure sensations inspired by this act of self-violation. She was in control! She was pleasuring herself, wantonly succumbing to her nympho-lesbian tendencies. She was too far gone to lead any other kind of life. She had to admit that. Hell! She gloried in it!

And she was so proud of the fact that the dong slipped right up her cunt in one deft motion. She was big enough down there to handle anything! No lubrication from some jelly jar was needed. She was juicy enough in her own right! She was going to sit on this one all the way to London!

The big jet droned on its way to London. The day outside the window brightened. Mary continued to surreptitiously masturbate. It was so easy, and that's what made it even more exciting. People all over the cabin were beginning to awaken now. The stewardesses had started to wheel the breakfast cart down the aisle. Mary knew she could take her coffee and cake and cum at the same time!

She just sat there, rocking gently back and forth, letting the hard thing between her legs do its job. And did it ever! The dong hadn't looked so large when she held it in her hands, but it felt like it was filling her up now! She was beginning to have trouble breathing, it seemed so big. Her vagina was barely able to close around it! Her clitoris was being rasped by its hardness in a nonstop action! It was touching all the way up to her womb! Drilling the living daylights out of her! She was going to feel it in her chest any moment, right behind her tits. The nipples were hard against the cups of her brassiere. She needed release! Desperately! Couldn't her stewardess lover come to her aid now? Mary glanced around with the blurred vision of a woman in the throes of ecstasy! It wouldn't be long now until she blast off once again. She wanted her lover to be with her!

But it was not to be. The woman was busy at her job of preparing breakfast for the passengers. Mary knew that she would have to take this trip into ecstasy all by herself! It was the only way! And she couldn't postpone it any longer!

Mary worked. She jerked. She thought she was going to fly right out of her seat. She had no time, no strength to reach for the seatbelt. She hung on to the armrests for dear life. This self-violation was taking her to a new height. She'd never plunged a dildo up her cunt before. She hadn't known about the consequences! She hadn't realized that she was going to lose control like this! Her pelvis was running away from her now! This huge foreign body of a dildo was reaming her whole self! It had replaced her spine as the mainstay of her body! It was taking her over! She could feel its effects as far down as her toes, as far out as her fingertips. It was setting her afire. In a different way from her lesbian lovers! In a wonderful, exciting way of its own!

Then she began to cum! Her clit, her cunt, her nipples, every bit of her conspired together under the tutelage of the dildo! One after another the blasts shot through her! They came like waves over her. She lost control of her nervous system. All over her energy was directed to between her legs in a valiant effort to absorb the spasms, the sensations bursting forth from her pleasure center. But it was no use. All of her had been usurped by this invading monster! She was a goner, all right! Maybe the stewardess lover had overestimated her ability to withstand pleasure? She was fainting now, losing count of the orgasms, the separate and distinct climax-spasms that passed through her.

Mary was sighing, moaning, not caring about what the other passengers might think of her. Why, she was outside the aircraft, soaring through space! She was so far beyond everyone else who might be on this flight! If only they could be sharing this experience with her! If only her lover could be here in her arms! They had flown together through so much of the trip!

Had she burst out of the clothes she was wearing? Would she once more be upset and disheveled? What was going on with her insane body? Could she still feel her hands clenched around the armrests? Nothing seemed to be as she remembered it. Her nerve endings supplied her with sensations, all right. But everything was so changed, so mixed up! So crazy, and since so much of it was centered on her genitals!

Mary awakened. But had she been asleep? She didn't think she'd dozed off. It was cumming! She'd been cumming all this time! How long? She wasn't sure. How many orgasms? That would be impossible to count. She moved slightly in her seat. It was still inside her, all hard and unyielding. The dildo! She would never give it up! It would never give her up!

Although Mary knew it would never fill the place in her love nest, that a real cock would, it would have to do for now.

A hand touched Mary's shoulder. She looked up. Her stewardess lover was there, hovering above her, smiling, offering her breakfast.


CHAPTER TEN

The huge jetliner had taxied up to the terminal at London's Heathrow Airport. Mary could hear the engines throttling down. She undid her seatbelt and stood up in the aisle. So here they were, she thought. What now? What was Horace going to attempt to plan for her? Promotional jaunts with him around the airline delegations? He'd tried that number before. She hoped this time he'd reserve the role for the gaggle of stewardesses he'd brought along. And what about her stewardess? Would Mary be able to see her during the time she was here in London?

The passengers were beginning to file out of the plane now. Horace helped Mary along. How gracious of him, she thought. The bastard just wouldn't quit! He just didn't know when she didn't need him anymore.

"You look great this morning, babe!" he said. "Was it the fact our new leather seats gave you such a relaxing flight?" He lowered his voice. "Or was it the way I diddled with your pussy last night?"

Mary had to struggle with all her might to refrain from laughing. She was sure she'd heard what the man had said, but then she really didn't know how to take it. The brazenness of Horace's suggestion that he had something to do with her pleasure!

"You owe me one pair of real silk stockings, fella," she said brusquely.

"Sure, babe," he answered. "And I'll spring for the best, too."

He put an arm around Mary. She almost recoiled. "Only the best for you, babe. You know that's all I want." He squeezed her hand.

Mary wanted to know how he treated his other female friends if he gave her only the best.

It was their turn to start toward the door. Mary took a step. The spasm was so great she thought she was going to sail right out the roof. She thought she'd feel it, but she hadn't known it was going to be like that! And it didn't show the slightest sign of slipping out. The dildo, that is. She'd left it right there between her legs. That's where she wanted to wear this wonderful gift from her wonderful lover. And it was doing its work inside her even now! One step at a time! One drill at a time! The thing just wouldn't quit! Every motion she made was masturbation. She was a living, breathing monument to automatic self-abuse. She began to pant before she'd got halfway to the front of the damn plane!

"Babe!" Horace asked. "Are you all right?"

"Never felt better in my life," Mary gasped. "Your airline is just something else, Horace. You really know how to take care of your passengers."

Mary had a perfect picture of her stewardess lover in front of her face right now, and she saw the woman as she'd seen her last night, naked and lusting after her pussy, frantic to provide her with pleasure.

Horace was wearing a look of concern on his face. He quickly became exasperated with Mary, however, and insisted that the two of them get off the plane. Mary recognized the tone in his voice. She was delaying him, she knew, or otherwise interfering with his plans.

But she was going to cum before she got out the door! Was that a problem? Was that something of which she should be afraid, or ashamed? Mary filled with conviction. She was going to show this man! She was going to show herself! She was going to show her lover how much she appreciated the gift. She began to walk out of the airplane with a firm stride. Nothing was going to stop her now! If Horace wanted her to come along, she was going to come.

She was going to cum!

And cum she did! Her pussy was running such a torrent of juice around that thing that was reamed all the way up inside her she couldn't believe it! She was going to collapse! She was going to drip her own cum juice all around the inside of the plane. She might be the first woman ever to ejaculate! Something was coming on down there! Each step she took brought on another orgasm. They just wouldn't stop! She could hardly go on! Thank goodness Horace was walking in front of her. Mary was beginning to falter. That dildo was so far inside her she thought she could feel it in the back of her throat! She was going to spit it right out in to Horace's face! Serve the bastard right!

The inside of the plane began to blur. Mary was convinced that she could smell her own raving crotch. That just had to be the scent of her pussy juice! She was taking over in here! Her feminine odor was overwhelming even the smell of jet fuel leaking in from outside! The juice would start flowing out onto the carpet any second!

Mary was even with the galley now. Thank goodness! There she was! Her dear lover! The woman was standing right there! Her arms were outstretched. She was going to give Mary the support she needed..

Mary swerved into the tiny galley: Her mind was a blur of ultimate sexual pleasure, and her pussy got even more excited at discovering her lover! Being in the stew's arms bettered masturbation a thousandfold!

The two women kissed and embraced. The stew whispered words of love into Mary's ears. Mary was unable to reply, and her lover immediately recognized why. The stew drew back to check out Mary's body. She smiled and patted her gently on the tits. Mary's nipples leaped hard against the cups of her brassiere. And she blasted away into another vaginal orgasm.

"Mary!"

Even in her orgiastic state, Mary recognized the harsh cry of her husband's voice. She knew somehow that she had to answer with her presence. It was required for now; it would make things easier later.

Her lover helped to steady her and lead her out of the plane. Mary exulted in being this close to the woman for a few more seconds. The feel of her strong thighs, the firm curves of her bosom, her determined gait, even the perfume of her body and breath; all these were elements of a love Mary was determined to develop and help flourish. And she was walking along with a reminder of her love at every step: her dildo was still accomplishing its work! Mary was cumming into London in fine style!

A final touch! A smile! The woman was gone. What would Mary do now? There was Horace, standing with feet planted firmly in the arrival lounge. He was scowling at her, as if that would make her hurry, as if that would make up for lost time in his precious schedule.

Mary did catch up to him in another few seconds. He grabbed her roughly by the arms and shook her. "Babe!" he shouted. "Dammit, wake up!"

But Mary didn't want to wake up. Not that she was asleep. It was just that she was enjoying her wonderful dream of lesbian love so much. Had she really experienced that interlude with that stewardess last night? Was such fantastic, orgiastic love really possible?

She took a step. The dildo ground away. She knew it! Love like that was real! And she was going to have it again! Before the day was out!

Mary was spirited through customs and into a waiting limousine. A couple of minutes later the car was speeding down the Motorway. But Mary noticed something. They weren't heading toward London as she remembered it. They were going in the opposite direction. She mentioned this to Horace.

"We're staying in the country as guests of Lord Havelock," he said casually. "He's an old friend of mine. The British delegate to the conference."

"You might have told me," Mary hissed. There was real venom in her voice. She was disturbed no end. She could see it all now. Horace was somehow plotting to maroon her on this big old country estate while he commuted into London each day for the conference sessions. He might be good enough to allow her a couple of shopping trips. But he, no doubt, would be "forced" to attend sessions long into the night-every night. Just a cover for cavorting with all the stewardesses he'd brought along-on the very flight they'd just come in on! Mary was absolutely furious. She could even see Lord Havelock's wife: an old "very proper" biddy who'd been sexless since her birth.

Mary kept her eyes glued to the countryside. It was pretty enough, but she was looking at it mainly so she wouldn't have to set her eyes on Horace. He had his briefcase open and was looking at some papers spread on his lap. Paying no attention to her, as usual.

She had to concentrate on something else, Mary knew. The dildo! Make herself cum. Thank goodness her lover had given her the thing. It might just prove her greatest asset in the next few days. Mary began to rock gently back and forth. Yes, it was still far, far up inside her. It was doing its work, all right. She was going to cum! The motion of the car was going to set her free! That beautiful English countryside started to blur in no time at all. Mary had turned disadvantage to her favor! And when the driver turned off the Motorway onto a bumpy country road, she thought she was going to explode! She was cumming like she couldn't believe! If only she could slip one hand beneath her and stuff it up her asshole! She was spewing her pussy juice like mad. But then, she was sure, this wouldn't be the first time someone left such a stain on the back seat of a Rolls Royce!


CHAPTER ELEVEN

Havelock Hall was immense. The place was the very picture of an English country estate. There was a huge manor house at the end of a long treelined drive, and there seemed to be literally dozens of smaller buildings: barns, cottages for the help, garages. There was even a small airstrip where the Lord kept his private aircraft. That was an interest which drew the Lord and Horace together in a close friendship, but nevertheless one of which Mary had not been very aware. She never took much interest in Horace's obsession with planes.

But Mary could not fail to be impressed with the scope and beauty of Havelock Hall. For a moment she was able to put aside her anger at Horace and concentrate on doing a little sightseeing from the window of the Rolls. She couldn't wait to do a little more later, perhaps with a guide. Maybe, she thought, this wouldn't be so bad for a day or two. Real upper-class life, English style. Just what she needed, after the rat race in Chicago. After working so hard snagging that last bunch of accounts.

But what about her pussy? What about her lusting nymphomania? Would there be some buxom young milkmaids around here, eager for a lesbian ball? Or would she be reduced to masturbation? Mary sorrowfully concluded that the later option might also be the most realistic appraisal of her situation. Besides drinking in some of the rustic beauty around here, she would have to plot how to get into London. She would simply have to get in touch with the Baroness. That woman was her only hope. And Mary was sure she had some sort of office in London.

The Rolls rolled up to the front of the house and a liveried servant came out to greet them. Another servant arrived to handle the luggage.

A moment later Mary was standing in the great marble foyer of one of the classiest houses in all of England. She'd been impressed with the outside. She was bowled over by the interior. And she hadn't done so badly in life herself. She guessed it was a matter of cultural differences. This was real, oldline aristocracy that she was encountering here.

The butler announced that Lord Havelock would be down shortly and escorted Mary and Horace into a kind of parlor just off the foyer.

What in incredible place, Mary thought, as she looked around the sitting room. Tapestries and portraits adorned the walls. Thick oriental rugs were spread across the floor. The furniture was antique, of course. She imagined that this place had been owed by the Havelock family since it was built, and she was sure that was at least a couple of hundred years ago.

Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows. Mary walked over toward them. She looked out upon the garden, and beyond that she could see the road they had just driven in along. This place had definite possibilities for a vacation, she thought. It was idyllic here. Out the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a stream flowing right through the property. Swans and geese and ducks were paddling along.

Another step meant one more wonderful rasp of the dildo within her. That was indeed the rub, Mary knew. Her lovers! Where would she find lovers out here at Havelock Manor? She must keep her eyes on the servant girls. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand even masturbation for long. Even with her lovely dildo. How could she be expected to subsist on such a diet, now that he'd known what real balling was like? Now that she knew what it felt like to have a tongue in her cunt, to feel another woman's fingers caressing her tits, worming their way far up her asshole. She was going to get desperate about this situation in a short time, Mary knew. Those swans seemed so placid out there on the pond. There was boiling down in her pussy even now!

There were footsteps behind her. Mary turned just in time to see a tall, fair haired gentleman enter the room. He was dressed in a traditional riding costume: jodphurs, boots, cap and hacking jacket. He carried a riding crop. Mary flashed for a second on the Baroness.

"My dear Horace!" the man exclaimed. He was all smiles.

Then he focused on Mary. She could feel him checking her out from toe to head. As though he might be surveying a piece of horseflesh, she wondered?

"And you must be the charming wife, Mary!" He extended a hand.

Mary extended her own. The man kissed it softly. She checked him out thoroughly in her own write. And she couldn't help but come to the conclusion that he was faggoty as hell. Or maybe that was just the function of being somehow ultra-civilized. She couldn't imagine that the guy would have the slightest interest in taking a woman to bed. Just as well, she thought. What did she care about that, anyway?

"My wife will be joining us shortly," he offered. "We were out doing a bit of riding. Didn't expect you quite so soon. Have a tailwind?"

Horace allowed that they had. Mary wondered how the hell he knew. He'd spent nearly the whole flight in that drunken sleep of his. She didn't have to force herself into concentrating on her dildo action this time. Horace and the Lord were already deep in conversation about aircraft. Mary just remained standing. She rocked back and forth gently, almost imperceptibly. How she reveled in putting one over on these fools! She was going to cum right here in front of them, without either of them knowing! Maybe she should just let it all hang out and scream like hell when the spasms started, when the pressure of the dildo became too much for her cunt to bear! That would show the bastards!

Mary tried to control herself. Why the anger? Why the bitterness? What the hell did it matter? Why shouldn't she just be able to enjoy herself, fulfill herself without always engaging in this foolish soul searching?

More footfalls on the marble floor in the foyer. Mary turned to watch. The Lord's wife, no doubt. The old biddy she'd been expecting. The Lord, after all, was not a young man.

The woman appeared at the door, all right. And the dildo nearly fell out of Mary's cunt. That's how much the flow of her pussy juice increased when she laid eyes on Lady Havelock. Mary could hardly speak when the woman greeted her and offered her a hand. Her Ladyship was a piece of ass! She was tall and fair, like her husband. But there the resemblance ended! She was young enough to be the man's daughter. Her blonde tresses were tucked up under her riding cap and she was wearing an old-fashioned veil over her face. Her boots were polished to such a sheen that Mary could actually see her face in the black leather. Her riding coat was a lush dark green and her blouse was pale yellow and pinned tightly at the throat. Mary struggled to take in all of this woman with her eyes. She was a positive feast, dressed as she was. And such a beauty. Mary couldn't wait to see what was underneath those finely tailored clothes. The jacket and blouse bulged ever so gently at her bosom. The jodhpurs stretched tightly across what Mary knew was a fantastic ass. She hoped with all her heart that this gorgeous piece swung in the direction of woman love. If so, then this stay at Havelock Manor would turn into a real pleasure. A real pleasure.

Mary found herself accepting a glass of vintage port wine. So, she was functioning with her mind half gone. What a gratifying surprise. All she could think about was her plan to get Lady Havelock into bed. She just had to! How would she do it? That was the question. Even if her Ladyship wasn't prone to lesbianism, there was always the possibility she just might be interested if it were offered to her in the right way.

So Mary sat down to enjoying a bit of socializing, sipping port, and plotting. All the while she kept her eyes on Lady Havelock. She was searching for some clue, some sign that she would swing her way. And while all this was going on, Mary didn't fail to shift in her seat ever so subtly: the dildo was part of her now and it did not fail her. It wasn't long before her pussy was running away, cumming and cumming. And Mary took her pleasure in solitude, without even uttering so much as a sigh. There would surely be time for vocalizing later.


CHAPTER TWELVE

Mary woke up after her first night in Havelock Manor in a giant four poster bed. Her sleep had been filled with erotic dreams, and the first thing she did upon waking was put her hand to her clitoris and begin manipulating it. She just couldn't wait for the dildo to go to work, though she'd slept with the thing far up in her vagina. Around and around she rolled the clit bud. It was firmly caught between the thumb and forefinger for her right hand. She knew how to grasp it tightly now, even though she might be lubricating herself with a river of slippery pussy juice. That was just part of her mastery of masturbation, she figured. And it would only be a matter of minutes before she blasted herself into her usual morning cum!. Unless, of course, she decided to draw out the jerking off just for the fun of it. There didn't seem to be any hurry. The life of leisure seemed to be the rule at Havelock Manor.

Mary continued to diddle her clit even as a serving girl entered the room with a breakfast tray. The tea and toast looked appetizing, all right. But the young girl looked like a feast. Mary wanted to eat her. So fair and fresh! Probably a virgin, Mary thought. She could just imagine what this pussy would taste like. Shouldn't she be the first to snatch a bite of that tasty twat? She knew her mouth would do justice to a cunt like that. In the meantime, she found it impossible to take her hand away from her clitoris.

If only this girl would just stay in the room. Mary was totally overwhelmed. There was none of the bogus sophistication about her that marked many young American women. The simple frock, the plain pumps, the black stockings and blonde braids. Black stockings! Mary wanted to pull them off.

Will power, she cautioned herself. This was her Ladyship's property, was it not? It might just be bad form to go around seducing people's servants. There just might be a whole different set of customs over here. And besides, Mary hadn't had a chance to make her play for the lady of the house yet. She was the prize. And today was the day.

Horace and Lord Havelock had helicoptered off to inspect some aircraft factory in the Midlands. Yesterday had been so filled with socializing and sightseeing. There had been that drive around the grounds of Havelock Manor. Impressive, as Mary remembered, but not nearly so attractive to her as the sight of Lady Havelock in her tweeds, skirt and jacket, and those rich ribbed stockings that flattered her legs so much. That woman knew how to dress. But Mary still couldn't get over the downright sexiness of the woman's riding costume. Now she could understand the attraction of leather and riding crops and horses. She'd thought the Baroness was a little weird that night in the hotel room, despite the fact the feel of leather across her ass had been so ultimately thrilling. Now Mary was eager to explore the kink a bit more. Would her Ladyship consent to be her guide?

Mary continued to finger herself beneath the sheets. With her other hand she sipped tea, setting the cup down only to play with her nipples from time to time.

There was a knock at the door. The serving girl again, Mary wondered?

It was Lady Havelock herself. How wonderful, Mary thought. She could masturbate in the presence of her hostess. Why not? She was becoming so delightfully impudent. Besides, she was getting so close to cumming there was no way she could quit. Her Ladyship presented a sight for hungry eyes.

She was doing her country tweed number again, and the outfit was mannish enough to warm any dyke's heart. The skirt was just long enough to send Mary off on an imagination trip. She had to get her rocks off wondering whether Lady Havelock was wearing tights or holding up those thick stockings with good old garters.

Her Ladyship chatted for a moment, asked Mary whether she was enjoying her stay and if she would like to go horseback riding this morning. Mary allowed that she would indeed enjoy that very much. In fact, her clit perked up at the suggestion. She thought she just might try wearing her dildo. The vibration of being on the back of a galloping horse just might put her away for all time. But she had to tell her Ladyship that she hadn't a proper costume, and that she hadn't ridden a horse since her girlhood days in Texas.

"It's a skill you don't forget," the woman assured her. "And I shall provide you with the proper attire. I think we're about the same size. There's more than one gentle horse in our stable here. So you won't have to worry about being out of practice either."

She smiled and retired, leaving Mary to climax by stuffing both hands into her vagina. She had new fantasies now, and they added volatile fuel to the fire in her loins. She was going to wear one of those costumes that excited her so much! Boots! Tight pants stretching over her ass! A high collared blouse! And maybe a veil! Her pussy flamed at the thought. And Mary was going to do justice to that outfit by wearing lingerie worthy of it. She turned her thoughts to her trunk, which was standing on a rack near the bed. All her wonderful new underwear was within reach. She would select carefully. And maybe she would have a chance to show off her "sheer delights" to her gracious hostess.

Mary finished jerking off and fairly leaped out of bed. As many times as she had achieved multiple orgasms lately, as much as she masturbated, she was trembling with the excitement of cumming some more. And those kinky clothes!

Of course, Mary couldn't help. herself in the bathtub. She had to reach beneath the bubbles and play with her clitoris. She had to place a finger beneath her ass and thrust it far up into her anus. She couldn't help herself. She didn't even think about it anymore. This was just the way she was. And she was coming to love herself more and more.

Mary chose her lingerie with great care. She wanted to wear some things that would not only turn her on, but might water her Ladyship's pussy if and when she laid her eyes on them. So Mary picked out her best corset and laced it as tightly as she could. The tighter the better. What shape it gave her! The old fashioned hourglass figure: tightly cinched waist with plenty of tits and thighs. Stunning on horseback, Mary figured. She danced in front of the mirror. She was dressed so well already in this finery, and she hadn't even covered her snatch and her nipples. The best was yet to come. Mary took a pair of silk panties from the suitcase. She ogled them for a moment, then pressed her face into them. And she hadn't yet spewed any pussy juice into the silken crotch. It was her way of planting a kiss on her pussy. If only she could eat herself. Not that she hadn't tried. She just couldn't contort herself that much. She just couldn't double back on herself. And it frustrated her no end.

But the dildo. Yes, she couldn't forget her constant companion. Mary had set it aside while she took her bath. Now she gently took it in both her hands and inserted it. A gentle push and up it went, far, far. It was rasping her womb now. There was pain, but Mary knew it would dissolve into pleasure in just a moment. Then the rigid dong that she'd made into a part of her own body would go about its business of jerking her off all through the day.

The bedroom door opened and Mary turned to see the serving girl once more. This time her hands were filled with the riding garb that her Ladyship had promised. The girl also looked embarrassed. She'd neglected to knock and had caught Mary half naked.

Mary certainly wasn't bothered. Quite the opposite. And the dildo was sticking out of her cunt just a bit. She turned to give the girl a better look. She saw that the pretty young thing was shocked, that she tried to cover her gasp, but didn't quite manage it. Mary loved her reaction. She acted as though nothing had happened. She just went about her business of dressing, pulling on the silk panties, buckling a black lace garter belt around her waist, hitching up a pair of her seamed silk stockings. She found that she was almost getting off on showing off to this darling. And she saw that although the girl was shocked, neither was she going anywhere. She seemed transfixed by the sight of Mary getting dressed in such unusual garb. Mary thoroughly enjoyed herself and more. And she thought she just might be easing the way for a little future action.

It was a great day for falling in love. And that's exactly what was happening to Mary. The sky above the English countryside was a brilliant blue, so different from the raw and rainy weather that she remembered from her last trip. And the smell of the foliage, the scent of the earth together were enough to stimulate the senses totally.

Mary and Lady Havelock cantered on their horses across the lush grounds of Havelock Manor. It was so easy for Mary. It had all come back to her so quickly. Her hostess was so beautiful and gracious and she made her feel right at home. Lady Havelock's outfit was stunning, of course, and the vibrations coursing through Mary from the horse caused her dildo to set off a chain reaction inside her. Her pussy was ablaze with sensations. Her eyes couldn't even bear to take their gaze off her Ladyship even for an instant. The perfume of the rustic setting, Mary knew, would be outdone only by the scent of Lady Havelock's pussy.

She had to get to that pussy if it was the last thing she did. That's what Mary was falling in love with. She followed a discreet distance behind the woman, ostensibly to let her lead the way. Mary really wanted to watch every move of her Ladyship's: how she sat in the saddle, how she flicked her riding crop over the butt of her mount, how she held the reins in her gloved hands.

The women came to a fork in the lane. Lady Havelock turned round to shout a direction to Mary. Then the unthinkable happened. A low hanging limb caught her Ladyship by e scruff of the neck and tumbled her off her horse. She gave a shout of fear, then shot right off the back of the mount and practically disappeared into a deep puddle of muddy water.

Mary gasped. Fear rose from deep inside her. Would it turn into panic? What could she do? Was this lovely lady injured? Dead?

Mary reined in her horse, jumped off and sprinted to where Lady Havelock lay still in the mud puddle. Her heart beat rapidly. Mary knew she had to do something, but what? Police. An ambulance. There must be some sort of emergency service around here.

Gently, she tried to lift Lady Havelock. But she simply didn't have the strength. Thank goodness, Mary thought, the woman hadn't fallen into the muck face down. She gazed down at that gorgeous face, now flecked with stains of mud, dripping with the icy water. She was coming around! She was regaining consciousness!

Mary whispered words of comfort. She cradled the woman in her arms.

The green eyes opened from behind the torn veil. The woman's face blossomed into an anxious smile. "Really knocked me one there," she whispered. "Teach me to take my eyes off the lane again." Mary couldn't take her eyes off the woman. There was something about her helplessness that excited her, fascinated her. Lady Havelock was dependent upon her. There was no way around it. The woman needed her help. For whatever reason, Mary finally had her in her power. What was going to happen? Mary wasn't sure. But she did know that her pussy was going crazy, drooling down right into the crotch of her jodhpurs. She expected a stain to show any minute on the tightly tailored whipcord material. Lady Havelock raised a hand.

"I don't think I'm hurt, my dear friend," she said. "But I must confess to you that I'm in a rather awkward situation and I would appreciate it if you would assist me."

"What?" Mary answered eagerly. "Anything." What would her Ladyship have her do? Mary couldn't wait for the request.

"You see," Lady Havelock began. "I'm caught in the predicament of having a dildo strapped to my crotch."

Mary nearly fainted face down into the puddle herself. This was insane. This was more than she'd dared hope for in her wildest fantasies. What was she going to do? Rip the thing out of her Ladyship's pussy?

"The problem," the woman continued. "Is that I don't think I dare sit up with the stiff thing in me like this. The fall knocked it up so far inside me that I think I'll do permanent damage if I try to straighten up like this."

Mary was still speechless. There was more of a puddle in her pussy than there was in the road!

What would the woman have her do? She still hadn't found out.

"Would you mind terribly unbuckling my pants and trying to pull the dildo out as best you can?"

Mary's mind was losing control. Her pussy had long since gone over the brink. She struggled to undo the buckle at her Ladyship's waist, but her vision was so blurry she could just barely see the thing. And her trembling hands did exactly help, either.

But she managed to perform the deed. The noblewoman had not moved out of the puddle, and she struggled to get out of her pants while prone in the puddle. With Mary's help, she shook them down almost to her knees.

Mary gaped. Her hostess was soaking in the chilly water. How could she stand it? But she continued what the woman had requested of her. There was a pair of sodden tights to be stripped off. Mary could not shirk that. She pulled at the waistband ever so carefully.

Then eureka! A fantastic blonde twat popped into sight. A wonderfully thick, silken mane of bush that Mary just wanted to dive right into, despite the muddy water that was violating it right now, mixing up with the pussy juice that Mary was convinced she scented. And crisscrossing this beautiful crotch were two finely detailed, supple leather straps. Their crosspoint was precisely the point of the vagina. Mary had never seen such a thing, but she had long ago (a couple of days back, really) learned to hide her surprise and take such things in stride.

Lady Havelock mumbled something about how to get the dildo off, but Mary didn't bother to listen. She dove at the belts with her fingers and soon had the tiny silver buckles undone. Gently she grasped the silver head of the rigid rod and slowly extracted it from her Ladyship's gulping, burping cunt. She brought it up to her face. She had to take a closer look. The thing entranced her. It was huge, bigger than any penis she'd encountered in her life. And was it ever hard. No wonder the woman was worried about permanent damage. The monster had no play in it at all. A woman had to be a connoiseur of pain to take such a thing into at all, much less strap it into her cunt and run around with it all day. Horseback riding was beyond the pale. Mary recognized what she had lying on the ground in front of her: a raving insane sex maniac, possibly of the masochist variety. Definite possibilities. But she didn't know enough about the specific kink. She'd have to ad lib. Her own raving cunt told her to take the chance. But had she even considered otherwise? Not Mary.

She dove. Right toward that beautiful, mud slathered bush. She smacked the upthrust pussy with full force. Her tongue was mad, vibrating with a force that Mary had not even thought possible. And she knew she wasn't going to stop. She'd taken the plunge. She didn't know what her Ladyship's sexual orientation was; Mary was going to give her a lesbian eating-out that she would never forget. Lady Havelock might have good reason to call an ambulance when Mary got through with her.

Her tongue parted that blonde twat, splayed apart the fat lips of the lady's pussy and began to lick and flick against the clitoris bud in no time. Mary knew what she was doing. She knew exactly what she was looking for in there, what she had to do to give her ladyship maximum pleasure, and what she had to do to make that pleasure reflect upon herself. One of her hands struggled with the buckle of her own jodphurs. Her dildo was working just fine, she knew, but there was no reason not to give it a little manual assist. Her hand shot right down into those soaking silk panties and a second later she had the bud of her clit firmly between her thumb and forefinger. Around and around it went. She'd been on the verge of cumming all through this ride. Now she began to blast off. That water wasn't so chilly anymore. It began to boil.

And instead of that scream of surprise Lady Havelock uttered when Mary began her assault on her private parts, the woman was now howling a stream of delightfully accented obscenities and raucous encouragement to her lover. Mary was being urged on, and she responded by redoubling her efforts. And then she tumbled right down into the puddle herself. Why? Because Lady Havelock pulled her right in. The two of them began to make love in earnest now, to ball rampantly in the muddy water.

Her Ladyship knew what she was doing too. Her hands soon replaced Mary's fingers at Mary's cunt, and it wasn't long before bits and pieces of riding costume began to fly off into corners of the puddle. It was an orgy of two. Boots, jodphurs, jackets and stockings went flying. Brassieres and panties disappeared beneath the surface of the water. Mary stood for a moment, wearing only her mud splattered corset, glorying in the finger that her Ladyship had reamed up her asshole. Then she sank down again to join her new found lover in the puddle itself. How dirty. How filthy. How wonderful it was. Mary was in ecstasy.

And her Ladyship was certainly no newcomer to the art of womanlove. She caressed Mary's most intimate parts with a skill born of experience and practice, but which was bizarrely erotic nonetheless. And even as she ran her fingers over Mary's tits, clit and cunt, her own face was contorted in complete abandon, total lesbian fulfillment.


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

There was a huge sunken marble tub in Havelock Manor's master bathroom. The thing was big enough for several people, and Lady Havelock joked that it must have been constructed at the behest of the Hellfire Club, a society of orgiasts that existed in the Eighteenth Century. Mary was impressed, with the furnishings as well as with her new lover. The woman was so genuinely warm and friendly, as well as having the most incredible love moves. And Mary had thought the English were so stodgy and puritanical.

The woman were bathing now, and doing more than that. Lady Havelock had equipped her bath with a high powered waterjet that she used for masturbation. The woman had taken turns sticking it into their vaginas. The device worked extremely well, providing climaxes without the harsh irritation that fingers often caused. Mary recognized that her Ladyship had carried to fulfillment that idea she'd had that lonely night back in Chicago when she'd jury rigged such a masturbation device from an enema bottle. Not that Lady Havelock didn't have enema bottles, as well. Mary had already endured several total flushings of her bowels with accompanying orgasms.

This had been without a doubt the most orgiastic day of Mary's life. She'd done nothing since waking up other than seek to fulfill the insane cravings of her nympholesbo sex drive. And her Ladyship had proved to be a most interesting and experienced instructor. The woman had travelled around the world and brought back to the Manor a vast collection of erotic devices and techniques.

There were ivory dildos from Africa, ancient chastity belts, Chinese balls, leather devices from obscure places on the Continent, even furs designed to stimulate and arouse by the way they were cut to fit. And Lady Havelock had learned her lessons well from the nymphomaniacs of Asia, Africa, Europe and islands around the world. There wasn't a part of the female anatomy that she didn't know how to stimulate in some arcane way. Mary knew she could stay in the Manor for weeks and still not learn all that Lady Havelock had to teach.

Some of the things even shocked Mary. That roll in the puddle earlier had not been distasteful to her Ladyship at all. She confided to Mary that she was a confirmed coprophiliac and that revelling in the mud had been rather mild compared to some orgies in which she had participated. Mary had even guessed right about the masochism. Yes, her Ladyship had pleaded for pain to be inflicted upon her back there in the puddle. She'd demanded that Mary go out to the woods and pick birch swatches with which to flagellate her, and when Mary had finally done as requested, and begun to whip Lady Havelock across the back, the woman had screamed for more, taunted her to do it even harder, and when Mary was convinced the woman was in danger of serious injury, only then did she collapse in a flurry of orgasms.

Mary wanted to learn so much from this woman. She desperately wanted to catch up to Lady Havelock in experience. Did that mean a trip to the lesbian whores of Tangier? Did it mean consulting the master dildo makers of Baghdad? Living in the harem of an oil sheik? Whatever it took, Mary was convinced she had to do it. Even if she had to put aside her career for a year or two, her pussy demanded it. The very idea excited her.

The two women talked frankly now even as they gave handjobs to each other. They diddled each other's clits beneath the warm waters of the tub and confided to one another their sexual experiences and aspirations.

"How in the world did you ever discover that you were such a pain freak?" Mary asked.

Lady Havelock threw back her head in laughter and nearly slipped off Mary's fingers.

"It all started a number of year's ago when I was a young schoolgirl in Switzerland. My mother and father had packed me off to this boarding school that was terribly strict. The place was like a prison and the mistresses were all very cruel, especially the mistress of discipline. She was really a pervert, and for whatever it's worth, she turned me into one as well."

Lady Havelock could hardly continue, she was laughing so hard. Mary sensed that being a "pervert" was not at all bothersome to this lady with her incredible sexual appetites. From what Mary could figure out, everything that Lady Havelock practiced seemed to her the most natural things in the world.

Mary listened carefully as she was regaled with a tale of anal penetration and rampant sadism at the Swiss boarding school. She couldn't help comparing it to her own American high school background. The differences were beyond belief. While Mary had been so worried about doing a little petting with some football player in the backseat of his father's car, her young Ladyship was reeling and learning to revel under the whip of her head-mistress, was being forced to submit to boiling enemas, beatings and made to commit the act of cunnilingus upon the senior girls. Mary felt more naive than ever, and more determined to make up for what she had missed. As an adult, she felt, she would be able to derive the true sensual pleasure from all the "perversions" Lady Havelock had been constrained to commit as a child.

But Mary couldn't help but look on her soul sister with genuine admiration. For such a brutal upbringing, she had certainly blossomed into a kind and charming woman. Mary asked her about this. And Lady Havelock explained that she had come by the characteristic naturally. Even in the atmosphere of that brutal boarding school, it had been necessary to form friendships and seek tenderness among her classmates. Indeed, many of the girls, reeling from degradation, had formed lifelong friendships and lesbian love relationships that lasted until the present day.

Mary wanted to know more. She was so eager to plumb Lady Havelock for every last bit of information. She plied her now with questions, but the woman seemed to tire quickly of explaining exactly where she attended school, who her classmates were and similar things. She seemed eager to continue the bath as a sexual interlude. Finally, she simply dove beneath the surface of the water-the tub was really almost the size of a pool-and began to swim toward Mary. Right toward her pussy. Mary knew it was coming. This was going to be a shark attack, the bite of an insatiable mouth upon her tender pussy. She attempted to get a hold on the rim of the tub with both hands. And just in time too, because Lady Havelock's mouth slammed into her crotch with brutal force. Mary nearly leaped out of the water. Her cunt was being devoured. This monster knew exactly what part of its prey to feast upon: the clit bud. Mary gasped. She panted. She screamed. That little nut of hers was hard between the teeth of this woman.

She clasped the tub rim. She was determined to hold on, to become a mistress of the sexual arts just like the woman who was eating her out this moment. She struggled. She just had to work herself past the pain. Into ecstasy. But what a mouth had this hold upon her. She was up against the best. And her Ladyship didn't seem to have any need to come up for air.

Then she began to cum. She saw her reflection in a mirror near the tub. She was writhing in her pleasure throes. She was turning into a wild bitch animal. That faraway look had descended upon her, as if nothing else could matter in the world but her pussy. And what else did?

Something knifed into her asshole. No warning, no caresses. Just one monstrous thrust of Lady Havelock's sharpened nail had passed through the mouth of her anus. What brazen violation. Mary was being forced to submit, to take the pleasure that was being offered in its oddly violent way, or to flee from the bath, from Havelock Manor.

But she was cumming! Mary was taking this violence being inflicted upon her and she was turning it to her advantage, recycling it into pure pleasure. Her cunt and clit had passed that weird threshold. Her asshole was coming around! And the rest of her: tits and mind, even her backbone and fingertips, followed. One part of her after the next. She was descending or ascending, she didn't know which it was, into a state of sexual nirvana. She was taking her pleasure as it was offered and making of it what she needed to have so badly.

The next several days proved to be some of the most fulfilling that Mary Springer had ever lived. She grew to love Lady Havelock, her stately home and her habits as she had never loved anything before. The two women were never outside of each other's sight. And much of the time they were naked, making love, balling, using whatever term fit their mood at the time. Many times they were rough in inflicting pleasure upon one another. But it was love whatever way it was expressed. Other times, especially in the evening by the fire, after a hard day of balling, the two would just cradle one another in their arms, kiss deeply for hours on end, or stimulate gently each other's nipples or clitorises. They took long walks in the countryside, often stopping to roll in the hay, or sometimes they drove for miles in Lady Havelock's Jaguar sedan where they fingered each other across the gearshift. Perhaps most rewarding to Mary was her introduction to the techniques of bondage and discipline.

Lady Havelock, equestrienne that she was, naturally or unnaturally tended to pursue avenues of pleasure that involved horses, leather, whips and the like. She was particularly proud of an obscure outbuilding on the manor which she kept secret even from her husband. She referred to it as her little "stable" and stable it was, of pleasure giving devices. Mary had to go no further. Everything she could want to continue her studies in pleasure was there. Many times in the afternoon, the two women would repair to the stable and inflict upon each other whippings and beatings, tie one another up in chains or leather thongs, and otherwise brutalize each other. Mary had developed quickly under her Ladyship's tutelage, of course, and it wasn't long before she advanced to alternately the role of mistress and pupil with her mentor. In the beginning the instruction had been given exclusively by Lady Havelock.

The two women had to contend with their husbands who supposedly lived in the Manor house during this time. But that proved to be no real problem. The place was so large that the pair could manage liaisons easily even when the men were at large. Indeed, one of their favorite ploys was to rendezvous in the middle of the night in a garret bedroom, the both of them having sneaked away from the sides of their slumbering spouses.

Horace even remarked a couple of times how well Mary looked. He was not a man given to compliments, except to airplanes that flew well and had a very low cost ratio. Mary knew that she did look well. She felt better than ever physically: she was getting an awful lot of exercise. Lady Havelock was a dynamic lover. And she was positively blossoming. If dumb Horace knew the real reason he'd no doubt blow his mind, she surmised. And she had it in her mind that she would "come out" when she felt the time was ripe.

Did Horace grow suspicious when she turned down the offer of a shopping spree in London? Mary thought not. He was probably glad, she decided. That way he could continue running around with the stewardesses that he'd brought along. She was absolutely sure he was getting it on with them during breaks in the conference sessions. But what kind of pleasure was to be had there, Mary asked herself. She and her lover had a good laugh on that one.

Mary thought of the stewardess who'd loved her on the flight from America. Where was she now? The dildo gift was still cherished, but it lay in a drawer, cast away in favor of a much bigger more elaborate device that Lady Havelock had bestowed upon her.

Her Ladyship was not about to let Mary go away empty-handed and this was made abundantly clear one afternoon.

The two women had just stepped out of the bath and retired to a small anteroom with a surgical type examining table. It was here that they usually applied soothing salves and unguents to the cuts and bruises they inflicted upon one another in the course of lovemaking. The interlude had become one more ritual in their day, and more often than not, cunnilingus and manual stimulation would ensue. This particular day was different in one important respect: they were not alone.

Meg was present. She was the virginal who had blundered into Mary's bedroom that first morning in Havelock Manor, the girl to which Mary felt so attracted, who had stood transfixed while Mary clad herself in that ancient lingerie.

Meg had done it again, so to speak. She'd been summoned to provide fresh towels to the small room. When she entered she had discovered her mistress and Mary nonchalantly fingering each other.

The young girl just stood there, staring at the women.

Mary was at a loss as to how to react, except for the obvious: to keep on doing what she had been doing, and that was furious fingering of her Ladyship's clitoris and vagina. She continued, with Lady Havelock's obvious albeit somewhat subtle approval.

Lady Havelock, on the other hand, seemed to welcome this intrusion. She glimpsed it as an opportunity to draw a beautiful young woman under the lesbian spell.

"Would you like to stay and watch us, Meg?" Lady Havelock offered.

The young girl managed finally to assert that that was indeed her wish.

"Would you like to take off your clothes and masturbate while I and my guest continue to make love?"

Mary watched dumbfounded as the scene unfolded before her. The poor young girl registered nothing at the use of the word "masturbate". She apparently didn't know what it meant. Lady Havelock had to explain what she meant in the most vulgar bathroom terminology. But then young Meg went at herself with a will. It took her no time at all to get her hand inside her rough cotton smock, and soon she was working away like a professional. The two older women were excited, titillated by the spectacle of the teenager playing with herself before their eyes. Lady Havelock was of the opinion that Meg might have already ruptured her hymen, judging from the intensity of her masturbation.

"You do that very well, Meg," Lady Havelock offered appreciatively.

The girl said nothing. She was too far gone. She just kept fingering herself with bizarre energy.

Mary watched intensely. She'd never seen anything like this before. Lady Havelock was so calm and collected. She seemed to have this kinky situation so entirely in hand.

"Have those rugby boys been pestering you again, Meg?" the noblewoman asked.

The young girl opened her mouth wide and lolled her tongue. It seemed to be her way of agreeing with her mistress.

"How would you like to get away from those nasty boys forever, Meg?" her Ladyship inquired.

Then she nodded at Mary.

"Would you like to go to live in America for a time with my dear friend Miss Springer?"

Mary nearly died. She was being given this little girl as a present? As a token of affection and love? She cast an inquiring glance at Lady Havelock. The woman nodded in the affirmative. Mary was stunned. A teenage girl for her very own! To instruct. To love!

Lady Havelock assured her that it was true. That young Meg's services would be her gift, provided that Meg was agreeable. And she would be, of course.

Mary took stock of her new charge: she asked her to remove her clothes. And immediately she saw there was potential. Strong legs, budding tits, a virgin snatch no doubt rustled so far only by the girl's own fingers. She was virgin material, a blank cheque upon which Mary could write a fortune in the arts of love. Right away plans flooded into her mind, where in her house the girl would live, how her presence would be explained to the neighbors, and more. Much, much more! Mary was already drooling over the beauty of Meg, and the beauty that was to be. Once she got her back to the States, there would be no more of these rough cotton frocks. She was going to be outfitted as the piece of ass she was, as the royal piece into which Mary was going to develop her.

"Would you like to come inside of the tub and bathe with us, dear Meg,? Lady Havelock inquired.

All thoughts of the future dropped from Mary's mind. The time was now. The pussy was here. Mary watched in a trance of her own as Meg, drawn to them like steel to a magnet, shed the rest of her clothes and joined Mary and her lover for a three way lesbian ball.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The huge helicopter lifted off the lawn and buzzed off over the trees. Mary and Lady Havelock waved good-bye to their husbands and watched as the flying machine vanished into the distance. Mary was somewhat puzzled as to why her Ladyship had been so insistent on her coming out here to bid adieu to the two men. Previously, it had been the custom to wait until the men were on their way to the city of London and then they would rendezvous for their first balling session of the day. So what was so different about today, Mary wondered. She'd even tried to bring up the subject with Lady Havelock, but the woman would have no part of it. Funny.

Then Mary heard it again. The helicopter. Her heart sank. The men were coming back. Damn! And why had it been kept from her? She had a right to know, didn't she?

Sure enough, the helicopter materialized from the morning haze and approached for a landing. What was going on here, Mary wondered?

The chopper whirred above them for a moment, then began its descent. Then Mary noticed something. It was a different helicopter. It wasn't the Ministry of Air helicopter that had departed moments ago with Horace and Lord Havelock. She was more perplexed than ever. She looked at Lady Havelock, expecting some kind of assurance from her friend. But she didn't return the glance. Indeed, she had a pleasantly expectant look upon her face. Mary knew right away that she would be no help, that once again in her life she was going to have to fend for herself.

The machine was on the ground now, and its rotors were whirling to a stop. The door opened, but Lady Havelock didn't wait. She motioned to Mary to follow and she bounded down the short incline to the waiting craft.

A woman exited from the helicopter. The mistress of the Manor rushed to greet her. The pair embraced and kissed. Mary strained to recognize the visitor. She was dressed entirely in black and there was indeed something very familiar about the way she carried herself.

Then Mary recognized her, all right.

"May I present Baroness Rosa von Katzenbusch," Lady Havelock announced.

Mary was speechless. She hadn't even mentioned to her hostess that she knew the woman. She couldn't even find it within her to utter a greeting. But she didn't have to. The Baroness took care of it. "We are well acquainted," she assured Lady Havelock.

Her Ladyship looked genuinely surprised, but seemed entirely gratified by the turn of events. In fact, she seemed altogether pleased. There was a wide smile on her face.

"Then," Lady Havelock suggested. "Perhaps we should dispense with formalities entirely and proceed directly to the stable."

She directed her gaze at Mary.

"The Baroness is an old friend of mine from my days in Switzerland. She was the one among the senior girls who befriended me and we have kept up our friendship ever since. I must tell you, dearest Mary, the Baroness knows the stable routine very well."

Mary looked first at one lover, then at the other. Her pussy was drooling, her panties soaked already. She was only too glad they all knew the stable routine!

