Stephanie's Revenge (15 page)

She brought
the rigid plastic phallus up to the entrance of Jasmina's cunt and
positioned herself to thrust it forward. Then she sucked Jasmina's
clitoris into her mouth, gobbling it up as, at that instant, she
drove the dildo home, right up into the depths of Jasmina's wet,
open cunt, right up until only an inch remained in view. There was
not the slightest resistance.

Jasmina
moaned, opened her eyes in astonishment, but had to close them
again as her body swamped her with feeling. Somewhere, a long way
in the back of her mind, she remembered the conversation she had
had with Stephanie, remembered asking her if she had a dildo.

Without pause
Stephanie pulled the long, thick dildo out again, seeing it
glistening wet, then pushed it back up, all the way up. Jasmina
groaned again. She started to groan in time with Stephanie's
strokes. Her body began to shake, her voice shaking too, unable to
do anything but surrender to her second orgasm as it broke over the
head of the hard plastic dildo. Or did it start at her clitoris,
still sucked into Stephanie's mouth? She could not tell. It did not
matter. All that mattered was the feeling rocking through her body,
making her whimper and moan, tremble and quiver, her body not under
her control, her nerves dancing their own tune to extract the
greatest feeling from the sexual circumstance, her mind joining in
the conspiracy to rob her of control, telling her this was a woman
on her body, a woman's mouth, a woman's hand fucking her with a
great plastic dildo.

Stephanie
released her clitoris and held the dildo deep, no longer moving it
in and out. She watched as Jasmina arched herself off the rug, her
whole body taut like a longbow, supported on her shoulders and the
heels of her feet, her cunt uppermost, the dildo buried to the
hilt.

It was a long
time before she lowered herself with a sigh of utter contentment.
Stephanie let the dildo go, and it slipped of its own accord from
the pink lips of Jasmina's cunt.

Jasmina raised
herself on one elbow and looked own at the dildo between her
legs.

'You
remembered,' she said.

'I planted one
down here just in case we didn't make it upstairs. What did you
call it in French?'

'Godemiché.
C'était extra. It was very good.' She sat up further and pulled the
leotard, which was bunched around her waist, up over her head. She
smiled broadly. 'That is one expression in French you will know
now, I think.'

Stephanie
couldn't help staring at Jasmina's body. It was the first time she
had seen it at her leisure. Her body was superb. It was more
muscled than other women's, long cord of muscle on her thighs and
arms. It looked like the body of a black athlete, a body seen on
running tracks in skimpy shorts and vest. Experimentally, she
squeezed Jasmina's thigh and felt a knot of muscle.

'I train with
weights.'

'It looks
marvellous.'

'Pumping
iron.' She laughed. 'You like this?'

'Yes.'

'You speak any
French?'

'Not
much.'

Jasmina
grinned broadly. 'But you know soixante-neuf?'

Before she
could answer, Jasmina reached forward and kissed Stephanie hungrily
on the mouth, pressing her naked body against the black silk teddy.
She reached behind Stephanie and stroked her long hair as her
tongue probed into her hot mouth. Then she pushed her down on to
the rug, breaking the kiss and letting her lips move down from
Stephanie's mouth to her neck, her lace-covered breasts, kissing
her flat silk-covered navel, and then the precipice of her pubic
triangle, falling away between her legs like a steep cliff. As
Stephanie had done to her, now it was her turn to unfasten the
catches between her legs and pull the silk clear. In the modelling
room in Rome neither had seen much of each other's body. Now she
was able to see Stephanie's labia emerge from her black pubic curls
as she teased them out with her fingers. Now she could see the pink
knot of her clitoris, seemingly so exposed and vulnerable. Now she
could see the contrast as her dark brown fingers probed the white
flesh of Stephanie's thighs and the pink of her cunt.

Jasmina
lowered her lips to the slit of Stephanie's sex. She repeated what
Stephanie had done to her, long tonguing licks as she reached up to
Stephanie's breast to knead and squeeze the soft flesh - so
different from her own breasts - and the hard nipple. It felt so
good. It thrilled her. She had no idea a woman could feel this
good. She licked hard, roughly, almost wanting to make Stephanie
feel her excitement. With her other hand she slipped two fingers
between Stephanie's labia, and felt herself swamped in another new
sensation as the silky wet walls of Stephanie's cunt wrapped
themselves around her fingers. She took her mouth away and probed
deeper with her hand, astonished at the wetness and the heat. She
found she could get another finger inside the elastic flesh.
Stephanie moaned. Almost by accident a fourth finger slipped into
the little hole of Stephanie's arse. It was so wet there was no
resistance. Stephanie moaned again. Jasmina had no experience with
a women, had never done this with a woman. She relied on her
instinct, thought of what she liked men to do to her. She wanked
both holes slowly, moving her thumb to Stephanie's clitoris. The
gentleness began to disappear as she saw Stephanie's body respond
to her thrusts and heard her moan, 'Harder.' Her rhythm increased;
she pounded into Stephanie's cunt, faster, harder, deeper. She
wanked Stephanie like men had wanked her, unremittingly, until she
had come on their hands.

Stephanie
managed to lift her head from the floor to look down at Jasmina
kneeling by her side, her mouth open, her tongue between her teeth,
her delight at what she was doing like that of a child who had
discovered some new dexterity. Stephanie could not keep her head up
for long. Her body was too full of sensation. There was no energy
left for anything else. She rested back on the rug and closed her
eyes. She let Jasmina take over, let her do it, wank her, wrest the
orgasm out of her with hand, fingers and her relentless thumb
strumming on her clitoris as though it were the string of her
guitar. She was rough. She was too rough, too hard, too relentless.
She was untutored but she was having a shattering effect on
Stephanie's body.

Stephanie felt
herself coming. It was like riding a bronco in a rodeo. She wanted
to get off, stop Jasmina hammering at her body, but at the same
time knowing she would stay on, see it through, come to her climax
in the saddle. And she did - a rough, unceremonious climax, almost
painful, though it was only the pain of extremes of pleasure.

'Stop!' she
had to say in the end, as soon as her orgasm let her speak. 'Stop,'
she said a second time, quietly. Jasmina obeyed and Stephanie
relaxed, allowing her body to wallow in the aftermath of
sensation.

Jasmina pulled
her fingers from Stephanie's body.

'Lick me,'
Stephanie said. 'Lick me gently.'

'Was I too
rough?'

'No. Just lick
me.'

'I want to
learn.'

Jasmina's
mouth descended to Stephanie's distended labia. By contrast now it
seemed incredibly soft, fleshly lips and hot tongue melting over
Stephanie's sex, like a hot sticky glue. She made it even wetter
with her own saliva, so wet Stephanie could feel it down between
her legs, down into the cleft of her arse.

'Better?'
Jasmina asked, without taking her lips away.

'Don't
stop...' Stephanie managed to say, raising her head again
momentarily. This was so much better, so good, what only a woman
can do for another woman. 'Soixante-neuf,' she had said. That's
what Stephanie wanted now to make her pleasure complete.

But Jasmina
was ahead of her. As if by some telepathic signal, she was swinging
herself over Stephanie's body so her knees rested either side of
Stephanie's head and the slit of her sex was poised above
Stephanie's face.

'Soixante-neuf,' she said, the words vibrating against the lips of
Stephanie's cunt.

Stephanie
reached up, hooking her hands around Jasmina's thighs and pulling
her down on to her mouth. As soon as she tasted the sweet wetness
of Jasmina's cunt she felt the first frisson of orgasm. She opened
her eyes to look at the angular curves of Jasmina's arse - not
plump and soft, but bony and tight, her own white arms stretching
around it like alabaster against the dark brown flesh. Coffee and
cream, salt and pepper, white and black.

She began to
shudder. This time her orgasm was long, reaching back to gather in
all her nerves, making them all feel the great waves that began to
rise and fall in her body, pulling them into harmony. The waves got
higher, the troughs of the waves deeper. She was coming in
Jasmina's mouth, right in her wet, clinging, sucking, melting
mouth, glued to her nether lips while she, in turn, lapped and
tasted Jasmina. No woman had ever done this to Jasmina before. Was
that the thought that made her finally abandon control, lose track
of what she was doing, of the difference between doing and being
done to, and feel the explosion of pleasure rake through her
perfectly tuned body.

They lay next
to each other for a long time. Jasmina naked, Stephanie still in
her stockings, the teddy rucked up around her waist. They lay end
to end, Stephanie's arm wrapped around Jasmina's thigh and vice
versa. The flames of the fire were all but embers now, with no new
wood to consume. Outside, the storm had subsided too, no more than
a gentle patter of rain echoing from the terrace.

'I have a lot
to learn,' Jasmina said without moving.

'Not
necessarily...'

'This
means?'

'You only have
to exploit your natural talent.'

Jasmina
laughed. 'C'est en forgeant qu'on deviant forgeron.'

'That you will
have to translate.'

'It is a
country expression. Only by forging do you become a
blacksmith.'

Now it was
Stephanie's turn to laugh. 'Practice makes perfect.'

'Exactement.
Is that what you mean?'

'Yes.'

'Good. I would
like to practise. But you want to tell me something else?'

'Tomorrow.
I'll tell you about Devlin. He's coming back in the morning.'

'Tell me now.
A little.'

'Well.' She
thought of how to put it best. 'He is a very extraordinary
man.'

'You want me
to fuck him?' Her directness had a way of making everything
simple.

'Not if you
don't want to.'

'I would like
to fuck. After all these feelings with you. Après les doigts et la
bouche j'ai besoin d'un zob. You too, you say. Can we fuck him
together?'

'He would like
that.'

Jasmina
smiled. 'But he must be good. Not coming quickly.'

'That he does
not do.'

'Marvellous.'

'You wouldn't
mind?'

'Stephanie.'
She pronounced it again ste/phan/ie. 'I love what we do here. But I
have told you, I want to learn. This is the beginning. I feel so
good, so alive. Tomorrow I learn more. You are a good teacher.'

'Am I?'

'And we fuck
this Devlin. But now we sleep.'

They picked
themselves up off the floor, Stephanie careful not to leave the
dildo lying on the rug, and walked up to Stephanie's bedroom.

While Jasmina
showered, Stephanie wandered out on to the terrace, pulling on a
towelling robe and slippers. The rain had stopped completely now
and a big white moon had suddenly appeared through the clouds,
lighting the water of the lake with an eerie luminescence that made
the water look like molten silver. The rain had renewed the scent
of the flowers and, apart from the odd drop of rainwater falling
from the leaves, there was complete silence. Nothing moved. Or so
it seemed.

Stephanie
slipped back inside, closing the terrace doors but leaving the
curtains open so they could see the moon.

Jasmina dried
herself and slipped between the silk sheets. Stephanie showered.
She thought about Jasmina - how open and direct she was, how she
appeared to have no inhibitions, none of the social taboos that had
so overlaid her own attitudes to sex. Tomorrow Devlin was going to
have another experience he was unlikely to forget.

Drying herself
off, she came back into the bedroom and got into bed. She had taken
her watch off and put it in the bedside table, but now didn't have
the energy to reach over and put it back on.

'Tomorrow,'
was all that Jasmina said.

Stephanie
stroked her arm, and in no more than two or three minutes they were
sound asleep.

She was not
dreaming. As far as she could tell it was not a dream that had
startled her awake. It was a noise. She opened her eyes and looked
around the room, trying to remember the sound. What sort of noise?
The room, still bathed in moonlight, was perfectly silent now.
Jasmina had not moved; she slept soundlessly at her side. She
closed her eyes again, the adrenaline rush caused by her shock
suddenly draining away. Her eyes felt heavy with sleep again. Just
as the edges of consciousness began to soften, she realised the
terrace door was open. She could have sworn she'd closed it when
she came in to shower. But what did it matter? It wasn't cold and
she usually slept with the doors open anyway.

The sharp
edges blurred again. She felt herself falling back into the
blackness of sleep as she heard Jasmina's regular breathing beside
her.

She woke
again, jerked awake with a much bigger rush of adrenaline, her
heart pumping blood, violently reacting to whatever unconscious
alarm signal her mind had heard. She looked around the room.
Whether it was a minute or an hour since she had woken before she
could not tell. She could see nothing but the familiar objects in
the room and dark shadows where the moonlight could not reach. She
tried to look into the shadows, but they were too deep. But
something was wrong. She couldn't tell what, but something was
wrong.