The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey (27 page)

“Madame Bouscaral!” Honey breathed in astonishment, and sat bolt upright, making no attempt to cover her nakedness.

“Berengere-Marie!” squealed Kolina and darted up, dashing across the room to throw her arms around the older woman.

In amazement, Dirk stared at the lovely duo, who were embracing like long-lost mother and daughter. Each was so spectacularly
beautiful, he had forgotten totally about his own nudity. Suddenly he remembered and grabbed a towel from the floor, wrapping
it around his middle. “Would someone introduce us properly?” he asked no one in particular, unable to take his eyes off the
older woman.

Honey bubbled with laughter. “Marquise Berengere-Marie Bouscaral, may I present my brother, Dirk Wildon. Dirk, this is the
mother of Yves and Henri.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Hello there,” he managed to murmur, and cast a glance at the Frenchman. Henri stood frozen like a statue
off to one side, his face an obvious mask of embarrassment and chagrin as he eyed Kolina. Dirk noted that the young woman
was deliberately ignoring the man. But it was the older woman who attracted Dirk’s eye, and at once he felt a surge of lustful
desire rush through him.

The Marquise was smiling tantalizingly at him. “
Enchanté
, Dirk. And Honey, it is such a pleasure to see you
again. Even under these rather awkward circumstances.” She turned to Barbro. “You must be Kolina’s sister. She’s told me so
much about you, I feel we’ve already met.”

As Barbro effusively greeted the mature beauty, Honey gathered three sarongs from the closet and tossed one to each of the
sisters, pulling on the third herself. With a sad sense of loss, Dirk watched their ripe bodies disappear beneath the brightly
patterned material. Even Henri seemed disappointed to be deprived of the sight of the beautiful figures. He slumped against
the wall and stared at the floor.

His mother turned to him with a small frown. “Henri,” she began with a trace of vexation, “it is time to follow through on
your promise.”

“Mama,” he mumbled without looking at her, “must I?”

“But of course,” she insisted. “Now stand straight like a man and speak up.”

With the aggrieved sigh of a put-upon child, Henri pulled himself upright and sheepishly addressed Kolina. “Forgive me, Kolina.
I am truly sorry for what I put you through. I got carried away with my love for you.” Unable to hold her disapproving gaze,
he quickly glanced to Honey. “And you too, Mademoiselle. I regret everything.”

“And me?” Dirk asked sharply, remembering the whizzing bullet in Menorca. “Am I included in this?”

“
Oui, Monsieur
,” the Frenchman said contritely. “Please forgive my actions, and those of my overly zealous men. Believe me, I meant only
to frighten you away.”

“Well, you nearly damned well got me—”

“Dirk,” Honey interrupted. “Henri has expressed his regret and I, for one, believe him and accept his apology. I am certain
we owe the Marquise a huge debt of gratitude for bringing about his abrupt change of heart.”

The Marquise beamed broadly, her strikingly handsome
face a beacon of internal light. She reached out and placed a graceful hand on Dirk’s arm.

His skin prickled at her soft touch, and all resistance melted away as she spoke intimately. “And you, Dirk? Do you forgive
my son? I promise I will do anything I can to make up for his ill-mannered behavior.”

He felt lost in her mesmerizing gray eyes. He fumbled for words, feeling the unmistakable reawakening in his groin. “Yes,
of course, I forgive him—providing he does not revert to his former behavior.”

“You have my fervent word,” she said softly. “
Merci
, Dirk. I am indebted to you forever.”

“And I am at
your
service, Madame.”

“
Voila
,” Honey chimed merrily. “Let’s open another bottle of champagne and properly celebrate our coming together!”

Under the old wooden beams of the loggia, she relaxed in a comfortably cushioned garden chair, sipping cold champagne with
a plump strawberry floating in it as she watched the two beautiful Svensen sisters trailing down the brick paths of her herb
and flower garden. English countryside flowers bloomed in profusion, masses of lavender and pink rose bushes scented the spring
air, and beyond the two lovely blondes admiring her garden, a huge horse-chestnut tree framed the distant green expanse of
the uninterrupted meadow. In all ways it was a terrific view, and she felt suddenly at peace, contented to be home at last.

“Oh, Honey,” Kolina cooed as she approached, “everything is so beautiful here. How lucky you are.”

Honey refilled the girl’s glass, commenting, “Gardens and surrounding countryside are the main reasons for
having a rural house in England. More champagne, Barbro?”

Nodding eagerly, Kolina’s older and equally lovely sister came up to them and sank into one of the other garden chairs. “I
can see why you insisted we accompany you home. It’s charming here, absolutely beautiful.”

Honey trilled an appreciative laugh. “Would you believe that when I bought the place it was nothing more than two decrepit
Victorian cowsheds?”

“No!” the sisters exclaimed in unison.

“All it took was time, money, and two talented designers from London working round the clock with a crew of twenty for over
a year,” Honey laughed, her eyes sweeping proudly over the nearby low brick house built from the former ruins. “It’s the very
first home I’ve had that’s totally mine. Dirk and I share the family home in Hillsboro and the retreat at Kauai, but this
is mine alone, and I escape here as often as I can.”

“And Dirk?” Kolina asked shyly. “Does he come to visit often?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Honey said with mock anger. “In fact, the scamp’s never been here. He’s wrapped up all the time with his
photography in New York or gallivanting around the world.”

“Do you think he’ll show up now?” Barbro asked in the same longing tone her sister had used when speaking of him.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Honey hedged. “Depends on how soon he burns out his latest infatuation.”

“The Marquise?” Kolina queried somewhat petulantly. “Honestly, she’s sixty-five if she’s a day.”

“But what a breathtaking sixty-five,” Honey offered. “May we three be so lucky at that age.”

Kolina tossed her white blonde head spiritedly. “The Marquise Berengere-Marie Bouscaral is just as guilty as
her son Henri,” she said with a sharp edge to her voice. “After all, she was supporting him lavishly all the while. If it
hadn’t been for the family money, he wouldn’t have been able to afford all those… perversions.”

Barbro touched her sister’s arm. “Now, Kolina, we should all be grateful to the Marquise. She’s cut him off without a penny
and forced him to return to the family chateau as her personal secretary.”

“I bet he won’t stay there,” Kolina snapped. “He’ll go crazy with boredom.”

Honey plucked the strawberry out of her goblet and nibbled on its champagne-soaked sweetness. “He won’t have much choice,
Kolina. The Marquise has put a definite end to his kinky lifestyle. She reclaimed all her foreign property and canceled his
credit, which has reduced him to a pauper. He’s fortunate to have a roof over his head.”

Barbro started to giggle, a girlish, joyous sound that lightened the spring air like the song of a meadowlark. “Serves him
right. If the Marquise hadn’t flown straight to Galapagos and taken him in tow, who knows what he would have done to find
you again.”

Kolina pouted into her champagne. “I think he got off too lightly. He belongs behind bars somewhere.”

Honey could not help but laugh, the girl was so adorable even in her childish anger. “But I think he is. The Marquise was
so appalled by what I wired her of her son’s activities, she’s vowed that he won’t step out of the chateau without her permission.”

‘It was so smart of you, Honey,” Barbro said, “to wire the Marquise straight from that U.S. Navy boat the way you did.”

“It was a long shot,” Honey admitted. “But I figured she would be the only one in the world who had enough power over him
to put an end to his kinky endeavors.”

“And stop him she did,” Barbro stated with another laugh. “I’ll never forget the look on his face when she forced him to apologize.
I thought he was going to die on the spot.”

The memory evoked laughter even from Kolina. “And poor Dirk,” she sighed. “He was so confused by it all.”

“He came around pretty fast,” Barbro smirked.

“That’s Dirk for you,” Honey offered gaily. “Can’t keep a good man down for long.”

Kolina snorted, not at all amused. “The way he moved on the Marquise, though, coming on to her like a schoolboy with a mad
crush. Honestly, I thought it was all a bit much.”

Honey eyed her over the rim of her goblet. “We’ve all had our crazy infatuations, haven’t we?”

Kolina sat up primly, as if rejecting the notion that she had ever gone off the deep end in any of her relationships. “Dirk
barely said goodbye to us, he was in such a hurry to accompany the Marquise on her return flight to France. I thought it was
a bit rude, to tell you the truth.”

“Now, Kolina,” cautioned her older sister gently. “Both he and Honey risked a great deal to help us. Especially you. So I
think you’d better remember that and stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself that he found someone else to make him mad
with desire.”

“But she’s so
old
,” Kolina repeated, eliciting another round of laughter from the other two. “Well, it’s true,” she said firmly.

“The same could be said for the difference in age between you and Henri,” Barbo offered. “But you chased him for a year before
he took you off with him.”

“Well, that’s different,” Kolina asserted. “Young women are naturally attracted to older men. But young men to older women…
ugh.”

Honey tried not to laugh too hard at the girl’s limited
point of view. “Kolina, you are a precious child, but you have a lot to learn about life. It offers a wide variety of experiences
You’ll be very grateful for that when you’re the Marquise’s age. Now I think lunch must be ready. Is anyone besides me famished?”

In the spacious, rustic dining room, the trio of beauties ate ravenously of saddle of lamb and broccoli hollandaise, and polished
off a bottle of 1959 Louis Latour Corton-Charlemagne.

They were so full and pleasantly high on the delicious wine, not to mention all the champagne they had been consuming all
morning, that Honey suggested a nap in her spacious yellow and white bedroom. Sprawled on the king-sized bed in just their
filmy slips, they dozed off intertwined like young sisters, listening to the chirping of songbirds outside.

Honey awoke sometime later with a consuming heat - inflaming her loins, and was pleasantly surprised to see between her legs
Kolina’s white-blonde head bobbing and dipping. For a long while Honey just lay there, pretending still to be asleep, enjoying
the attentions of the gorgeous young woman’s extraordinary tongue. Soon Honey could not contain her joy. Abruptly she sat
up, stripping off her slip, startling the secret licker. Kolina raised her head and gazed in open admiration at Honey’s snow-white
expanse of delectably full breasts. The rosy nipples were already alert. At once Kolina scooted up and kissed one of the stiff
little appendages, flicking its tip with her tongue, kneading and molding the other breast with her eager, feverish hands.

Honey squirmed with pleasure and rubbed the girl’s strong young back, eventually hiking up Kolina’s slip and pulling it over
her head. Kolina’s large breasts rubbed playfully against the satiny skin of Honey’s belly. Honey squeezed a hand between
them and inched it toward
Kolina’s pussy. Kolina raised her hips, allowing freer access, and Honey took advantage of the offering, inserting an exploring
finger into the moist, heated quim. Wildly, Kolina drove up and down on the extended finger, moaning softly into Honey’s ear,
kissing her creamy neck and fair cheeks. Honey concentrated her deeply imbedded digit on the firm clitoris buried in the fleshy
folds and with the same hand managed to get a thumb into her own pussy.

“Unfair,” Barbro groaned groggily, awakening to discover the surreptitious activity beside her. She rolled over against Honey
and murmured, “Got room for one more?”

“Be my guest,” Honey purred huskily, and waved a trembling hand toward the nightstand. “Top drawer, if you please…”

Barbro rolled across the bed, opened the drawer, and extracted Honey’s ancient ivory dildo. “Oh, how lovely,” she squealed.
“A petrified prick. And with two heads!” She scooted up on her haunches and tugged off her slip. Her heavy breasts rolled
out like banks of white fog. Grabbing the old instrument of pleasure, she knelt between Honey’s legs and pushed her sister’s
hips up off their hostess’s pelvis. Licking one bulbous head of the double-ended dildo, Barbro then stuck it into Honey’s
flaming funnel as far as she could.

Honey groaned with delight and pulled Kolina up by the hips until the young woman sat straddling her face. Reveling in the
satisfying plunge of the dildo, Honey drank in the sight of the delicately hued vagina so spread before her. The pale lips
looked like the petals of a tropical flower liberally sprinkled with dew. The sparse fringe of soft blonde hair ringed the
pulsating opening like parentheses, and Honey raised her head to delve into the tempting valley with her tongue. The dewy
meat was as sweet and delectable as it looked.

With rising ecstasy, Honey lapped at the tender opening and thrust against the ersatz penis in her own pussy. The Svensen
sisters were a pair of sensational lovers and she could easily understand why Dirk had been so taken by them both. Each had
her own special gifts and techniques, and each of their bodies, though similar, contained enough uniqueness to satisfy even
the most discriminating of tastes. Kolina was an energetic free spirit and reminded Honey of herself at that same age, willing
and eager to explore anything and everything sexual. On the other hand, Barbro’s enthusiasm was more refined, her passion
more controlled. As a trained dancer, she would marshal her strength for a long performance. Together the duo formed an irresistible
combination, and Honey surrendered to the overwhelming tug of emotions and sensations that swept through her mind and body.