Chapter 4
Diana and Cheryl and Hera followed silently. At the top of the flight of steps they moved behind her into a room at the end of the hallway, Modiste shutting the door when they were all inside.
It was a small room furnished with a single item: a big double mattress in the middle of the floor, candles in wine glasses against each of the four walls lighting the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls and floor.
"Me for the mattress," Modiste said, and she dropped onto the mattress, turning over on her back and stretching herself out with a proud exhibitionistic ostentation, dauntless, her gaze sweeping the three pairs of eyes surrounding her as her acolytes knelt around her, Hera by her head, and Cheryl and Diana beside her. Her body was a long soft terrain of glens and vales and slopes and shallows, darks and pales. Her arms and legs and torso were cocoa dark, a deep umber at the firmly capped tips of her tits, the bottoms of her feet and insides of her hands pale. The outer labia of her cunt, bisecting the furzy bracken of her pubic thatch, were plum dark, purplish and moist, but the inner surfaces were several shades lighter, a sight Diana displayed by unfolding the corrugated cunt flaps and opening the split into candy pink depths ashimmer with juice.
Diana glanced at Hera and Cheryl, waiting for some sort of signal to begin, or some plan of action to be commended. They looked at her, demurring, then all seemed to realize together that such consideration would only delay their pleasure.
"Pot luck," said Diana, laughing, and lowered her face into the width of Modiste's yawning slit while Hera pressed her lips against her full mouth and Cheryl flashed her tongue across the quavering globe of a big firm tit. Modiste twisted on the mattress, her arms and legs flexing as three tongues caressed her, lighting fires in her blood and setting her heart to beating in a heavy swift tattoo. A shower of long black hair fell on her belly and across her thighs as Diana's face vanished against the crevice of her cunt; Modiste's eyes closed with the sensation of her tit being drawn into Cheryl's mouth; her lips twisted with Hera's kiss. Modiste moaned and writhed, her buttocks grinding into the mattress, a heated throbbing saturating her cunt, her long slender body lambent with reflected candlelight, thrilling and heaving to the ministration of three tongues, Hera's licking her mouth (her own tongue stroking back at it with mouthing agitation), Cheryl's lips lovingly sucking her stiff nipple, Diana's tongue plunged deep down into the palpitating semi-liquid chasm of her sex.
Modiste's moans became murmurs, the murmurs turning to whimpers, whimpers dissolving into sobs and gasps and tremulous panting breathing as the three women pleasured her and pleasured her, their tongues orchestrating explosions and tremors and quakes, busy, dedicated, licking, unrelenting. Her mind was a blaze of sensation, her body seething and blazing all along its length, tongues swishing here and there, mouth, tit, cunt, tit, mouth, cunt, lovely tongues skyrocketing her into ethereal skies of the mind, kissing, licking, sucking, loving and loving and loving with a steady reliable mounting intensity that made her first orgasm rage like a hurricane through her. Coming, she felt herself expanding in every part, mind and body, all of her completely infused with pleasure, a profuse enveloping pleasure that coursed through her in accelerating waves, and she cried out, reaching out wildly as she cried. Her fingers latched around Hera's neck, pulling her mouth into a deeper kiss, caught at Cheryl's arm, jerking spasmodically along her wrist till their hands were joined, and her cunt heaved consummately against Diana's mouth, wetness brimming from her.
For a silent spaceless moment there was a puase, a cessation of activity as if Diana and Cheryl and Hera were all frozen, impulses paralyzed by the orgasm they had created; then Diana was sucking zealously from the wellspring of Modiste's pulsing cunt, guzzling, letting the savory nectar cover her tongue. Rising and turning, she kissed Cheryl, a robustly elegant kiss, the taste of Modiste flowing onto Cheryl's tongue, and Cheryl quickly turned to kiss .
Hera, passionately. They kissed the flavor away, holding each other with eyes shut and hearts hammering, their embrace growing more intimate as they licked each other's lips, noses, eyes, ears, cheeks.
"I knew there was a good reason for sororities," Diana said, smiling broadly and looking at all three of her companions, Modiste, Hera, and Cheryl, smiling with equal affection at each of them.
"Not that a good brawny stud isn't my cup of tea, too," Modiste pointed out, not wanting Sappho to take more than her share of credit.
"Ahhh, yes," Cheryl agreed. "Cock, cock, my queendom for a cock...." She spoke in a mock-theatrical tone, causing the others to all laugh lightly.
"Speaking of which," Hera said, "I could use one, I think. Hope that doesn't make me sound too much like a glutton."
"Gourmet, not glutton," Diana smiled. "I think I could stand a little bit of that kind of action, too." She glanced at Cheryl and Modiste and Hera. "Not a thoroughbred lesbian here, then...."
"Too narrow and confining," Hera said. "Women are nice lovers, but men are...."
"Masculine," Cheryl finished for her.
"Rough," Modiste suggested. "Which is just as nice as soft but quite a bit different. Rough. Rough," she mused, "means craggy. Uneven. Un-smooth. Rough."
"They've got wands, and that's a hard act to follow," Hera said flatly.
"If you like magic," Diana nodded.
"I'll buy that," Cheryl agreed, nodding.
Modiste looked archly from Cheryl to Diana and said, "Buy? Have you ever?"
"Bought sex?" Diana gave it a moment of thought, and shook her head.
"Or sold," Modiste said, contemplating the thought. "I mean, have you ever traded quim for currency? Have you ever sold your jellyroll for greenbacks?"
"I work in an office, not on a street corner," Diana replied a bit sharply, looking defensive.
"I'm just curious, sweet," Modiste said in a softer voice. "That's what we're all doing here. Finding out a few things about things."
"I'm afraid I've conferred favors on a boss or two," Cheryl admitted, frowning. "Or three," she amended, after a few more seconds of consideration.
"Oh, but that's not very dramatic," Hera said. She disturbed her lovely sophisticated features with a lewd grin, and said, "Where's the most unusual place you've ever been balled?"
"I was balled in the bleachers," Cheryl said, her grin even lewder than Hera's as she reviewed the memory. "Among thousands. And it was an orgasm to remember, believe me!"
"In the men's room in a bar called the Ionian Owl by a philosopher," Hera countered. "He gave me a crash course in hedonism, which I passed with honors."
Cheryl said, "I made love in a rubber life raft-before I learned how to swim." She paused and smiled vastly. "That's how I learned. We capsized and I had a quick transition from pleasure to terror. But I made it. It was quite a trip. One minute I had a mouthful of sperm and the next minute the whole Pacific was in my mouth. It was truly wild."
"Best high I ever had," Diana said, her eyes sparkling with the memory, "was coming down a banister in conjunction with a boy friend, me astride him."
"Wow!" Cheryl said, laughing. "That sounds like something you ought to patent. If it really works."
"Yeah." Diana smiled, reminiscing. "We left the banister looking like it had just been freshly waxed."
"Mmmmmmmmmm," Hera murmured, closing her eyes and getting a fix on the image. "Sounds very nice, really."
"I think I'm getting horny," Diana said, returning the three listless sensual smiles she found herself looking at.
"Me, too," said Hera, nodding. "I think we ought to get back to the party."
"There are some very nice things happening out there," Modiste testified. "It might be nice to get back in circulation."
Everyone agreed. They looked at each other with tender sincerity; then Modiste kissed each of the others, and departed so suddenly she was gone before anyone could speak. Following her lead, Cheryl kissed Diana and Hera, got up and left the room quickly and quietly. Left alone, Diana and Hera looked at each other, a little shyly, neither of them eager to make the next move.
"I'd like to go with you," Diana said unhesitantly, her smile slightly shy.
Smiling back at her, Hera's eyes were dark bright points of light; Diana's gaze was silvery and sloe-black.
Hera bent toward her and pressed her mouth over Diana's, her lips parting along the curve of Diana's upper lip, her tongue edging temptingly under the front of the lip to trace its shape and slip along the pliable moist frontage of gum and ivory hardness of teeth. "Sure," she whispered, taking Diana's hand, both of them rising with the kiss still held and savored. "I can't stop wanting you," Hera sighed when she finally broke the kiss as they approached the doorway. "Really can't."
"Me, too," Diana said, tilting her head with a dainty entranced look, and opened the door almost unconsciously.