'I always do
after a show. They've slaved away for me to get it all ready in
time. They're a loyal crew, and they deserve a break.'
'And this is
where you store your sketches and patterns?' she asked, noting the
big cupboards, the angled drawing boards.
'Some of
them,' he confirmed. 'Others, if they're very new and precious, I
keep in my apartment.' He chuckled a little. 'I suppose I'm
paranoid really, for the whole building is linked to a security
system second to none. No one is likely to break in.
'Come along,
let's go - Kevin will be waiting and he's already wildly jealous of
you,' and he smiled and gazed with evident relish at her nipples,
the outline of which could be seen through her T-shirt. 'He jumps
on the wrong bus, whereas I ride on both. Don't look so confused;
he's a gay submissive and I'm a bi-sexual dom.'
Kevin was in
the apartment's lounge, fiddling with his camera. He glanced up,
his eyes sharp as a bird of prey's as Julia and Blake entered.
'About time,' he said reprovingly. 'I've been here over an
hour.'
'Set up
outside,' Blake retorted, ignoring Kevin's sulky remark. 'The
weather's sunny and we want to see what Julia looks like in the
open air.' He flung a small bundle, which she caught. 'Put that
on,' he instructed.
'Where can I
change?' She didn't want to undress in front of Kevin, knowing he'd
endeavour to find fault with her figure.
'Use my
bedroom along the corridor,' Blake, halfway through the glass door
to the patio, said over his shoulder.
She opened
several doors. Three were guestrooms with no sign of personal
effects. There were two showers and a study, all superbly
decorated, and then she found what must be Blake's room, the best,
largest and most lavishly furnished, with it's own bathroom.
Unfortunately now was not the moment to search for Arlene's
drawings, though instinct told her he would have hidden them there.
She stripped quickly, laying her clothes across the wide bed, and
watching herself in the pier-glass as she stepped into the minute
gold bikini bottom and then attached the matching triangles over
her breasts. The cups were a shade too small, and she filled them
to capacity. She adjusted the halter neck, which was made of thin
chains and decorated with beads, and fastened the ties centre
back.
A filmy silk
sari in a contrasting material came with the skimpy outfit, and she
draped it round her, then barefooted, padded her way out to the
patio. She moved silently, pausing when she reached the screening
shrubbery growing profusely over a trellis. She was about to make
her presence known when a sound arrested her, a moan, a sigh.
Holding her breath, she peered through a small gap in the
honeysuckle.
Kevin was
leaning across the wrought iron table situated beneath a large
striped sunshade. His shorts were down round his knees, his T-shirt
pushed up, his bare hindquarters lifted. Marty Blake, as handsome
as a Greek god, was just raising his arm. In his hand was a belt,
coiled up, turning into a lash. He brought it down savagely across
Kevin's white buttocks and Julia repressed a gasp, her own
posterior burning in sympathy.
Kevin winced,
his arms outspread as he gripped the edge of the table. 'That was
for daring to interfere this morning,' Blake snarled. 'If I fancy
Julia, then I'll have her. Understand?'
'Yes, I
apologise,' Kevin bleated, and reached down for his groin, groping
for his penis. 'Forgive me.'
Blake lashed
him again. 'Don't touch that till I give my permission,' he said
coldly.
'All right, I
won't... will you rub it for me?'
'Oh, I'll do
more than that.' Blake opened his jeans and his cock sprang out. He
fondled it and, taking a bottle of sun-oil from the table, laved
his tool lavishly in the slippery lotion and then spread Kevin's
legs and worked three greasy fingers into his anus.
Julia was
flabbergasted. She had never seen two men at it before, knowing she
should withdraw till they had finished, but so fascinated that she
couldn't move. For some reason the sight, instead of repulsing, was
making her horny. She touched her nipples, and they were rock-hard,
firmly pronounced within the thin gold cups. Her clitoris throbbed
and she slid two fingers into the bikini briefs, combing through
her soft pubes. She rubbed, parted her sex-wings, and toyed with
the rapidly swelling nubbin. All the while she never took her eyes
from the scene being enacted in the roof garden.
Blake oiled
his palm and slid it round till he encompassed Kevin's dick. The
long, stiff, pale-skinned organ jerked as he rubbed it, and Kevin
gasped in rapture. Taking his own cock in his other hand, Blake
slid on a condom and then, standing between Kevin's thighs, fed his
erection into his well-prepared arsehole. Julia, speeding up the
friction on her clit, saw him move, slowly at first, then
faster.
'I'm going to
come in you now, and then take off the johnny and do it again, all
over your face,' Blake growled, his hips pumping rapidly.
'Yes, yes, do
it!' Kevin urged, clinging to the table, his cock jumping in
Blake's hand. 'That's just how I like it!'
'High, hot and
a hell of a lot!' Blake chanted.
Shockwaves of
sensation were gathering in Julia's groin. Her clit was fully
roused, her labial wings engorged. She was climbing to the peak,
blood racing, heart pounding. She could hear both men panting like
Olympic runners. By now she had joined in the contest of who would
come first. Then Kevin cried out and shot a jet of creamy semen
into Blake's fist.
Julia was
there, riding the crest of the wave, feeling her whole being
convulsing. Perspiration dampened her fringe as the final spasm
passed. Then she saw Blake rake across Kevin's back with his
fingernails, saw the trail of red marks, and saw him arch. His
ragged breathing stopped for a second. He grunted, thrust once,
twice, thrice, and climaxed.
The scene
righted itself; a peaceful, sweet-smelling garden once more, filled
with the sound of birds singing and the bubbling of the jacuzzi in
its little glass-roofed house. Julia took her fingers out of her
bikini bottom. The gusset was soaking wet.
Lust appeased,
the men pulled apart. Blake did up his jeans and Kevin hoisted his
shorts. Neither said a word. Both lit up a cigarette, and Julia
stepped under the flowery arch, the sari knotted round her
waist.
'Ah, there you
are,' Blake said, cool as a cucumber. 'Did you enjoy our display of
homosexuality?'
She could feel
herself going bright red. 'How did you know?'
'Darling, it
was obvious. I saw the foliage moving. Did you come as you watched
us?' Before she could answer, he pulled her close, parted the sari
and shoved a possessive hand tight between her thighs. 'A dead
giveaway,' he crowed. 'You're very wet.'
'Dirty bitch,'
muttered Kevin, then linked his arm with Blake's. 'But we don't
care, do we?'
Blake freed
himself coldly with a shrug. 'Have you set up the tripod?' he
snapped.
He was most
professional as the afternoon progressed. Kevin shot Julia from all
angles, sedate shots, compared to George's; her bra top was kept
firmly in place, as was the minuscule tanga. The sun burned down
fiercely, and she applied Blake's lotion, her body gleaming with an
oily sheen.
Kevin bitched
throughout. 'God, but she's awkward,' he complained. 'She doesn't
have a clue how to pose.'
'She did all
right for George,' Blake countered, sitting in the sun, shirt off,
browning his legs in the tiniest of shorts.
'That's as
maybe,' Kevin huffed. 'But she's bloody unprofessional. A novice,
my dear. A rank amateur.'
The more he
criticised, the more she found herself floundering. It had been
almost better to do open crotch shots for that slimy little
toe-rag, George.
'I think we've
got enough,' Blake said at last. 'Fetch me a large gin and tonic,
Julia. Plenty of ice, mind.'
Rather
offended by his offhand manner, she stalked into the kitchen, found
the drinks, raided the fridge for ice-cubes and returned. This time
she didn't stop when she found Kevin kneeling in front of Blake,
whose cock was raring to go again. Neither of them took any notice
of her as she placed the glass on the table. Kevin bent forward and
licked the dew from Blake's glans. He placed his hands on Blake's
hips to steady himself, the cock disappeared into his mouth, and
moved his head up and down.
What better
time than now, she thought, when they were so absorbed? She
retraced her steps through the lounge, along the hall and into
Blake's bedroom.
First she
changed into her skirt and T-shirt and slipped on her sandals, for
she knew she might have to make a quick exit. Ready to flee at a
second's notice, she began her search.
The wardrobe
yielded nothing, neither did the tallboy. Then she saw the desk, a
valuable Napoleonic piece, the top covered in bottle-green leather
and edged with brass filigree. There were two stacks of drawers on
each side and a large central one. Julia tried it. It wasn't
locked. Marty Blake must have been so convinced that no one would
break in, she thought.
It slid open. Inside were several drawing-pads. These revealed
nothing but rough sketches that he must be working on. Then, right
at the bottom, she found a folder. She lifted it out and spread it
open on the desktop. She recognised Arlene's style and the
Queen of the Night
gown.
Her signature at the lower right hand corner further confirmed
this. There were others, too, garments that Blake had kept under
wraps until the moment of the show. These also bore Arlene's
signature.
Got him! Julia
wanted to shout aloud with glee, but instead she closed the drawer,
rushed to the bed, picked up her tote bag and stuffed the drawings
inside.
'And where do
you think you're going with those?' said Kevin, from the open
doorway.
Julia pulled
up sharply and gasped. Now she was in trouble. 'I... I'm off home,'
she faltered feebly, wondering how long he had been standing there,
watching her. 'We've finished here, haven't we?'
'What's that
in your bag?' he said slowly, a predator tormenting its prey.
'Um,
nothing... th-the usual stuff... make-up, my chequebook and credit
card... you know.' This was awful, Julia's worst nightmare
realised.
'Let's have a
look,' Kevin said, and snatched it from her. He spilled the
contents on the bed and grabbed the sketches. 'Marty will be
interested to see these,' he added heavily, and hauled her along to
the lounge.
'I've just
caught your golden girl poking around in the desk,' Kevin
announced. 'She's got the sketches, Marty. You know, those you
stole from Arlene Murphy.'
Marty Blake
rose from the white leather settee. His brows swooped down in the
blackest scowl Julia had ever seen on a man's face. 'What's all
this?' And he glared at the drawings Kevin had shoved into his
hands.
She stood
there shaking. 'They don't belong to you,' she quavered. 'I wanted
to return them to their rightful owner.'
'I told you
she wasn't genuine, didn't I, Marty?' Kevin beamed triumphantly.
'Model, my arse! Ask her what she's really doing here?'
'I don't have
to answer that,' she said, spine straight, shoulders back, chin
held defiantly high. 'I'm leaving now, and I'll thank you to let me
take those with me.'
'You're not
going anywhere.' Marty Blake's voice was heavy with brooding
menace. It sent icy shivers down her spine. 'We'll see what Vincent
has to say about all this.'
She glanced at
the door, made a dash for it, but was hauled back by Kevin, who was
surprisingly strong under his weedy exterior. He held her tight,
his nails gouging her spitefully.
'Come over
here right away, Vincent,' Blake said into his mobile. 'We've a spy
in the camp.'
Vincent Gabor
listened in silence to Marty Blake's litany of complaints, and
Julia stood before them like a prisoner in the dock. She was so
frightened she couldn't function properly.
'So, Julia,
what do you have to say for yourself?' Gabor asked at long last,
his dark eyes expressionless, his face set.
'Nothing,' she
blurted out.
'Why were you
taking the sketches?' he persisted, with the grim patience of an
inquisitor.
'I-I-I don't
know,' she stammered, aware that it was useless. He was too shrewd
to believe any cock-and-bull story she might try to concoct.
He rose,
looming over her. 'I want the truth, Julia. Don't even attempt to
lie. Tell me, you are acquainted with Arlene Murphy?'
'Possibly. I
may have met her once or twice... in the pub, or at a club. I can't
remember.'
'You can't
remember?' His hands were clenched threateningly at his sides, but
she could feel excitement gnawing through the fear. Was he about to
hit her?
'No... that
is...'
'I've made
some calls, Mr Gabor,' Kevin cut in eagerly. 'And the jungle drums
report that Julia and Arlene live at the same address.'
'Ah, so you
have been lying to me,' Vincent Gabor said, more in sorrow than
anger. 'Dear me, Julia, you're a very silly and naughty girl.'
'I only wanted
to help her,' she burst out. 'She was so upset at the loss of her
designs...'
'And you
thought you could worm your way in here, nose around and find out
things that would get me into trouble,' Blake spat venomously.
'It wasn't
fair; you have so much and she struggles so hard and has so
little.' By now Julia had lost the will to lie. It didn't much
matter. Something unpleasant was going to happen to her anyway, no
matter what she did or said.