Stephanie's Revenge (23 page)

She was
sweating now, like both women. Sweat ran down between her breasts,
down to pool in her navel. Now she was really hot, and she revelled
in that too.

Their pace was
increasing. However much they wanted to work as one, the two hands
were different, responded differently, caressed, pounded,
pummelled, penetrated differently. Jasmina's hand gave way to
Venetia's who slipped her fingers up into Stephanie's body, while
Jasmina worked her clitoris. Then they reversed again. Or did they?
Stephanie couldn't tell, couldn't keep track of anything other than
the sensations they were squeezing out of her. She levered herself
against their bodies on either side of her. She pushed her thighs
between their legs, wanting to feel their cunts pressing into her
flesh. With so little pubic hair she soon got what she wanted,
feeling their labia, thick and wet, on the tops of her thighs.
Immediately, they moved their bodies on her, using her thigh
muscles, riding them, using them as wanking posts.

The sweat made
their bodies slippery, frictionless and greasy. Three women laced
together in a single passion.

If there was
any plan, any coordinated design, any collusion between the women,
it had disappeared, each suddenly aware only of her own need, an
urgent, vital feed. The three bodies rolled together, a mélange of
cunt and tit and thigh, of arse and hips and mouths. It became
impossible to tell who was doing what to whom. It didn't matter. It
was all one.

Stephanie felt
her orgasm break, felt herself racked up the final notch, and then
falling, falling into a tunnel of slippery, female flesh. She knew
the other women were coming too, that's what made it better. She
could feel them. Their orgasm was part of hers. She felt them come,
felt their bodies tremble, their gasps of pleasure, felt them as if
they were her own, tripling what she experienced.

And it seemed
to go on forever. Her orgasm was like a fire, orange and purple
flames, everything she felt stoking the flames, everywhere she
looked more fuel for the roaring fire inside her. She felt
Jasmina's sex melting on her thigh, Venetia's teeth embedded in her
nipple, fingers - whose, she did not know - deep in her cunt. She
saw their beautiful bodies, their long legs twined with her own,
their breasts crushed against her, a writhing tableau of naked
sex.

Very slowly
her body regained control. All of them were panting for air, as
though there wasn't enough oxygen in the room for three women
engaged in such endeavours. Stephanie extracted herself from their
bodies gradually, limb by limb.

She stood up.
The two women on the bed cuddled together, closing the gap she had
left.

Stephanie felt
renewed. She felt strong again. She felt in control again. She felt
powerful. The experience with Gianni was behind her. It was like
the feeling she had experienced the first time she had come to the
castle, a feeling Devlin had promoted in her, or created in her,
she was not sure which. It was a feeling she had come to love, a
feeling that filled her with a satisfaction that was more than
sexual pleasure. She was in control.

She walked
into the bathroom to shower off the sweat from her body. She set
the shower on hot before she stepped in, but then, once the water
was playing over her body, she turned the mixer to cold. She wanted
to test her resolve. The ice-cold water jetted over her, chilling
her instantly. But the chill had no psychological impact. There was
no emotional shock, no wish to dash back into the warm. The
experience with Gianni was behind her.

She turned the
water off and towelled herself dry. She felt strong enough to think
about Gianni again. He was not going to get away with what he'd
done to her. She would have her revenge. Carefully planned,
carefully executed, perfect, sweet revenge. This time there would
be no mistakes, no way out for him. No way he would ever be able to
retaliate.

Back in the
bedroom, Venetia and Jasmina lay on the bed. They had cuddled
together almost unconsciously when Stephanie got up, moving
together the better to enjoy the aftermath of orgasm, the need for
contact at its greatest.

It was Jasmina
who had taken it further, Jasmina who had started kissing Venetia's
earlobe, then her shoulder; who had cupped Venetia's heavy breast
in her hand to feel its weight, who had murmured, 'You are so
beautiful, my cherie,' before she trailed her kisses down over the
large, soft curves of Venetia's breasts, licking and nibbling at
the flesh, down over her navel to the hard mound of Venetia's
pubis, sparsely covered with short, fair hair, almost like it had
been shaved and the hair re-grown, except the hair was fine and
soft, not stubbly, down into her labia, wet and sticky from her
orgasm.

Stephanie came
out of the bathroom in time to see Jasmina dipping her head down
between Venetia's legs, as Venetia rolled on to her back, to lick,
eagerly, at her thick clitoris. From where she stood Stephanie
watched, for once uninvolved, as Jasmina used her tongue - as pink
in contrast to her black flesh as her cunt lips were - with her
newfound expertise on the supine Venetia. Venetia's excitement was
only too apparent. Her eyes had rolled back and she was breathing
in short, irregular gasps; her fingers were taut and stretched out
as she tried to claw at the sheets of the bed, as if trying to get
some purchase, trying to save herself from falling. Her mouth was
loose too, whimpering little meaningless sounds.

Stephanie
watched. She did not touch. She felt a curious detachment from the
spectacle, appreciating the beauty of the two women, but no longer
being sexually involved with it.

Even Venetia's
keening call as Jasmina's mouth, and her sharp tongue, drove her to
another orgasm, did not rouse Stephanie. She watched Venetia's body
arch up off the bed, as her orgasm pulled her sinews and tendons
involuntarily taut, before releasing them again and letting Venetia
flop back on the bed, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Jasmina looked
up, looked into Stephanie's eyes, her face shining with pleasure,
the pleasure of victory, of conquest, of finding a new skill at
which she was adept.

But Stephanie
was not tempted to join in again. Another need had asserted its
priority in her body and, at the moment, it was not one she could
ignore. She was starving hungry again. She had got over the feeling
of cold, now she had to eat herself out of the feeling of hunger
that three days on bread and gruel had left churning in her
stomach.

It was only
when they were out on the terrace downstairs waiting for lunch that
Stephanie realised that Devlin had not come back. It was well after
one o'clock now.

'Where's
Devlin got to?'

'He should
have been back by now,' Venetia said.

'He'll have to
be punished,' Stephanie laughed. 'Perhaps that's what he had in
mind.'

Jasmina was
puzzled by this brief exchange, as puzzled as she was by the
relationship between Venetia and Stephanie, but she said nothing.
There were things that went on in the castle she did not
understand. But Stephanie had promised her a guided tour, promised
her she would see all the secrets. And there was no hurry. She had
already learnt a great deal about herself at the hands of this
extraordinary woman. She didn't mind waiting for the next
revelations.

Venetia and
Jasmina lunched on salad while Stephanie devoured a rack of local
Umbrian lamb, even chewing the threads of meat from the bone, as
well as eating all the potatoes, fritto misto legume and, when she
was still hungry, a local goat's cheese with a hunk of focaccia.
Melon ice cream and cappuccino followed that.

It was as her
second cup of foaming coffee came to the table that she saw the
powerboat heading across the water towards the castle, leaving a
long wake stretching back into the distance. As the boat got
closer, Stephanie could see Devlin's distinctive figure sitting on
the transom. The boat disappeared from view under a canopy of
vegetation as it came in to dock. A few minutes later Devlin
bounded up the terrace steps from the courtyard in front of the
main doors.

'Stephanie,'
he said, bending to kiss her cheek. 'You look so much better.'

'I feel it.
Where on earth have you been?'

'I thought I
should gather a little more information. I went to see a friend of
mine, an Italian.'

'Information?'

'On
Gianni.'

Stephanie felt
herself tense at the mention of his name. She could feel her eyes
narrowing.

'What sort of
information?'

'This chap
knows the family.' Devlin sat at the table and ordered the waiter
to bring him an espresso. 'He's retired now, but apparently he used
to do business with the wife's family. According to him, Gianni was
nothing before he married. All his money, all his deals, it's all
controlled by his wife. Everything is in his wife's name, too.
Gianni likes to pretend he's made a fortune, that he's come from
nowhere and made a mint, but all he did was marry into money. His
wife is from one of the richest families in Italy.'

'Interesting.'

'Oh yes.
Apparently the family were so against the marriage they tried to
buy him off. They did everything they could to stop it. Her father
hated him. Still does. But they got married despite that. She was
besotted with him.'

'I can't
imagine why.'

'Oh, I'm sure
he could be very persuasive. Anyway, then it all started to go
wrong. Gianni was given some of the wife's money to play with and
lost a lot of it straight away. When his wife found out, she was so
furious she took control. He'd set up this business. Well, she took
it over. She made it a success. Gianni just sits around in a big
office doing very little while she runs everything. She's made the
money grow.'

'Well good for
her.'

'Now she only
tolerates him because she wants to prove her family wrong. They
told her he was a good-for-nothing and she wouldn't believe them.
She doesn't want them to be able to say "I-told-you-so". Well
didn't, at least.'

'Didn't?'

'Apparently,
she's now so fed up with him she doesn't even care about that any
more. She's looking for a way out. Any excuse, and he's out.'

Devlin sipped
at his coffee, then popped one of the chocolate truffle petit
fours, that had been served with the coffee, into his mouth. Devlin
had an unrepentant sweet tooth.

Stephanie
smiled. 'Oh, I'm sure we can find her an excuse, can't we?'

'In spades,'
Devlin said.

Jasmina
started to laugh at the reference to spades. 'Oh yes, you can count
me in. Bien sûre.'

'I didn't
mean...' Devlin looked embarrassed.

'I know,'
Jasmina said, touching his arm. 'But I have an idea. In Madrid,
when I was there, I learnt something that might be of use. It is a
very special talent. I have all the equipment. I kept it. I thought
I might use it again one day. I think it would be the perfect,
revenge.'

'What is it?'
Stephanie asked.

Jasmina was
grinning from ear to ear. 'I don't know the English.' She explained
with a mime. It did not take long for them to understand what she
meant. And she was right. It would be perfect. The perfect
revenge.

They talked
for a while longer, but Stephanie's energy had begun to wane, the
excitements of this morning, and now the food, taking their toll.
She wanted to sleep.

'I'm going to
bed. Wake me at seven, will you?' she said.

'Shouldn't you
just sleep on?' Devlin said.

'No. I
wouldn't sleep tonight then. And anyway I'll want another meal
tonight. So wake me.'

'D'accord,'
Jasmina said. 'I'll wake you.'

'And bring
Devlin with you.' She looked Devlin in the eye, and immediately had
an image of his huge cock. 'Right, Devlin?'

'If you're
feeling better,' he said.

'Oh, don't
worry about that.' She patted his hand, the massive banana fingers
making his coffee cup look like doll's house crockery. 'I'll be
feeling much better by then.' Despite her tiredness, Stephanie felt
a frisson of passion at the thought of what she would have Devlin
do to her.

Leaving them
at the table, she walked through the castle to her room. Without
taking off the white tracksuit she had worn for lunch, she curled
up on the bed, pulling a sheet over her. If she hadn't felt so
tired she would have had Devlin come up with her. She was looking
forward to reasserting her authority as well as feeling that
massive cock inside her again. Not, of course, that she would let
him know that. That was not the nature of their relationship any
more. That was not what Devlin wanted from her and not what she
wanted to give him either.

She remembered
the excitement she had felt at the idea of introducing him to
Jasmina, how excited she'd felt on the phone telling him about her,
and how Jasmina had reacted, in turn, when Devlin was first
mentioned. All before Gianni had intervened. Well, now the time had
come, or almost. Tonight, when she woke up, she would share Devlin
with the beautiful, athletic women and show her another aspect of
the sexual nexus she had created.

Stephanie
slept, a deep, dreamless sleep.

Jasmina opened
the door of Stephanie's room at exactly seven, with Devlin at her
side. She tiptoed over to the bed and, like Prince Charming,
managed to wake Stephanie with a kiss.

'Mm...'
Stephanie said, opening her eyes. 'Nice...' She stretched out on
the bed, throwing the sheet off. 'I feel good.'

Jasmina was
wearing a yellow bikini. She had swum in the lake that afternoon,
then lain in the sun.

'Where's
Devlin?' Stephanie asked.