Chapter 8
Hazy had found herself a psychoanalyst, a slim, dark-haired houri with narrow cool features and a glacial somber gaze only slightly softened by chic eyeglasses with big, round, whiskey-colored lenses. They had met in the TALK room no more than a few minutes after Diana and Tracy and Anton and, Richard had left, and there Hazy had heard the story from her of how she had come to the back chanal against her better judgment and in spite of her reservations, because she felt that unfamiliar experiences should be explored, scientifically, objectively. Hazy had intrigued her by hinting at an experience they might share together, a revelation as it were, and had led her into a small private room on the top floor of the house. There they were alone in a nimbus of lamplight, Pavana seated in a brown tufted velvet wing chair, Hazy curled up on a snow-white lamb fur rug in front of her.
"I don't really know if I should be here," Pavana said in a troubled voice, clearly nervous and even somewhat frightened by the situation she had let develop, but undeniably engaged, also, by some irresistible fascination with the obvious purpose of Hazy's interest.
"I think you should just relax and listen to your impulses," Hazy replied, and smiled, knowing how restless her blatant nakedness made the other woman. Pavana, by contrast, was fully clothed in a cream-colored satin shirt and navy dots and a white wool garbardine skirt and black flat-heeled shoes. Her bearing was poised and contained, authoritarian, but the spark of uncertainty in her eyes spoiled the rigid effect, and her hands were gripped around the arms of the chair with noticeable tension.
"Impulses can be dangerous," Pavana objected, looking formidably sensible, reluctant to accept Hazy's simple dictum at face value, the excitement she felt at some level overshadowed by the sobriety of her credentials.
"But so can too much talk and too much deliberation and too much analysis," Hazy said challengingly. Her smile was temperate and self-satisfied and she returned Pavana's stare, her own attitude secure.
"I like to understand things," Pavana said, her manner stiffening rather than relaxing, her hands fidgeting on the chair's armrests. It occurred to her that she looked like a patient in a waiting room. Like one of her own patients.
"Listen!" Hazy said, suddenly turning her head as if a sound had distracted her attention, then glancing up at Pavana with a vague smile.
"Huh?" Pavana looked back at her, listening but hearing nothing in the silence, not even a dim sound of music or activity from elsewhere in the house. Only silence. "I don't hear anything," she said her curiosity aroused.
"You will if you listen harder," Hazy said with a knowing smile, her eyes mysterious, her smile insistent. "If you keep listening...."
"Oh?" Pavana nodded, then turned her mind studiously to the silence, concentrating on it, and very gradually as the seconds ticked by and Hazy smiled steadily at her, watching her, she heard something, something subliminal, an inner voice so subtle and diminutive it was like a whisper from the obscure spaces of her mind, a soft warming whisper that was unmistakably, she realized, the voice of her libido. It was calling to her across psychic wastes and winters and deserts, caressing her mind with an intimation of unknown experiences, undiscerned pleasures. Was it not the voice reasoned, her responsibility as a thinking person to seek even the most arcane knowledge, to pursue the most radical and exotic experience, to test alternate sensibilities and to taste the forbidden fruit that grew on the highest branches of the most sinister trees? Why, then, her resistance, hesitation, fear? Why? She looked at Hazy, whose gaze was so intense it made her glance away; her cheeks flushed, her heart pounding so rap idly now she was conscious of its drumming beat against her breast, a dryness in her mouth.
"Don't start talking to yourself," Hazy chided softly. "Talk to me." Her eyes seemed to shimmer with hazel light as her smile broadened and her short hair in the lamplight was dappled with highlights of yellow gold.
Pavana nodded, involuntarily, finding herself looking back at the other woman, and seeing that she had not really taken full notice of her extreme beauty before: the svelte incurvation of Hazy's shoulders as the top half of her body bent lightly foward, the heavy full roundness of her breasts and their softness and the peaked rouge-dark nipples erect in their circles, the tapering flow of her waist rounding into the broad curves of shapely hips, the flesh of her body shadowy bronze, the wide full thighs bracketing the pale blonde pubic plumage, and the sleek curving of her lovely slim legs tucked under her, one pale bare foot on top of the other.
Pavana parted her lips, watching, swallowing dryly, sitting back in the chair, her own full breasts rising with her breathing against the cool, pale cream satin of her shirt. She was not wearing a brassiere and could feel her nipples touch outward with a delicious firm tightness against the smooth fabric.
"You're very attractive, Pavana," Hazy said. The intimate sound of her name voiced by the strange woman struck a chord of burgeoning excitement in her.
She did not look, somehow, like a stranger any longer, Pavana thought."
"Beauteous Pavana," Hazy murmured in a warm undertone. Reaching out, she lifted one of Pavana's feet up from the floor, and, removing the shoe by pulling down on its heel and easing the instep forward from the arch of her foot, exhibited the finely sculptured shape of her foot accented by the taut sheer tan of her hosiery. Her toes were raised sinuously against the flexible material, a darker tan band diffusing the lucidity of her polished toenails. Kneeling forward, Hazy turned the foot with finesse in her hands and offered it to herself, rubbing her cheek against its bottom with the same drowsy absorption of a cat arching its back against someone's hand. The contact caused Pavana to slip down lower in the chair, her shoulders pressing back, her long beautiful leg curving straight out and upward to ease her encased toes against Hazy's forehead, all five of them touching gingerly and flexing against the dark arch of an eyebrow and moving down slowly against the rippling dark awning of her lash.
Hazy looked up at her, beseeching a facial reaction of some kind with her gaze, and Pavana nodded slightly, awkwardly, then a bit more firmly as Hazy's fingers ran up along the sloping incline of her calf on both sides of her leg, past her knee, and to the very upper reaches of her thigh where the fabric pf her pantyhose, tented across the inner apex of her thigh, was already damp to the touch.
"Excited?" Hazy inquired, her voice hazy, her eyelash spidering the nylon encasement of Pavana's toes, her unobstructed-eye fixing her with a warm stare. She moistened her lips to a pink gleam with the tip of her tongue, pressing delicately with a forefinger against the gauzy soft dampness. "I smell your cunt," she said, her fingers skating briskly over the mossy thick down held beneath the opaque hosiery at the bottom of Pavana's slim belly.
The randy sentence trailed into an imagined! echoing in Pvaana's incited brain, the lovely, dirty, beautiful word radiating outward from and through her consciousness like the concentric circles caused by a stone thrown into calm water.
"Love your cunt," Hazy said in a whispered murmur, "love to touch it, princess, love." She smiled, with her tongue licking a silvery line of moisture between her lips, as if appraising a repast, and said, "I'm going to get you ready, Pavana...."
"Oh, yes, do," Pavana gasped, the words churning out spontaneously, giving herself over entirely to the strong impulses crowding all thought out of her mind. She moaned with increasing comfort and smiled aggressively, urging her foot down and stretching her toes out and upward to brush them across the malleable width of one of Hazy's tits, Hazy so pleased by the uncalculated movement that she quivered pleasantly at the touch, her white teeth biting into the full projection of her lower lip, her shuttered eyes peering through their shuddering lids.
"This doesn't ... seem ... wrong," Pavana said, attempting objectivity. She smiled at Hazy, venturesomely, and confirmed her decision by moving her foot slowly further down from Hazy's lush tit, her big toe prodding the hardened nipple as it descended, tracing around the softer pink flesh encircling it, eliciting a small gasp and flickering smile from Hazy.
"Nothing wrong ... if you dig it, Pavana," Hazy told her, catching her breath. "If you both dig it," she said. She smiled down at the foot teasing her tit and her hands carved through the air on either side of it, her long fingers gliding back and along the sides of the foot and around the round curve of its heel, warm to the touch, the toe browsing her nipple more firmly as she guided it, lowering her face with closed eyes to lick the nylon surface all around the ankle.
Pavana, her lips pulling tightly together, her eyelids sliding down over the light dancing in her eyes, darkness containing her, felt a fine pinpoint of pure sensation begin to glow between her legs, inside the humid canal of her cunt, an effervesence of incipient pulsations sparking vaginal nerves from the portal of her vulva to the crypt of her womb. She moaned raggedly deep in her throat, her pink lips pressing together tighter still, sinking another two inches down in the chair, and with a series of tremblors that ran through her like the shocks of a dermal quake, she pitched her head and shoulders forward, letting herself flow toward the lure of orgasm, wings stroking in her mind.
With Hazy licking her ankle, she soared and soared and trembled, wanting desperately to soar higher. Then, inching forward between Pavana's sagging legs, Hazy ducked her head low and rose up under the white wool skirt, her hands lifting the fabric high over the wide columns of Pavana's thighs, her face hovering close to the thick mass of dingy curls showing through the nylon of the "pantyhose. In the; middle of the muff the slit of her sex was wide open and outlined against the coarse nylon, a nacreous line marking the inner shallows of the separated labia. Pressing her hands down to frame the moist scrolls of flesh and shape them against the texture of the nylon, Hazy slipped her tongue out and pulled it enthusiastically through the fissured aisle of the cunt and out at the tapering peak, the hot pink trinket at the top throbbing with depressed heat through the netted fabric. She covered the clit with an energetic fusillade of swift jabbing clicks, dabbing with it, taunting it, tasting the acrid nectar seeping through the lower vent with each glance of her tongue and filming the pantyhose with gossamer streaks of saliva.
"Oh, ohhh, ohhhhh, oooohhhhhh, ahhhhhh," Pavana chanted, the cries forced from her lips by a tempest of passion, each syllable louder and wilder than the last, as Hazy's twisting tongue stroked the sounds from her, extraordinary sounds of passion that made her want to cry out herself.
Wanting to see Hazy, Pavana pulled her skirt up over her head, turning it inside out over the flat terrace of her belly past the point where the encircling rim of her pantyhose indented the flesh of her midriff. Hazy paused in her pleasure, looking up at her new friend, her chin nudging against the cloistered hedge of damp curls, her lids lifting slowly to filter a lustful stare, and she waited until Pavana was looking her, back at her, confidently, trustfully, eagerly.
"Do any ... thing ... you like, anything," Pavana whispered, nodding, her head bobbing up and down with a kind of intoxicated emphasis of affirmation. "Anything. Carte blanche. Be my ... guest."
"You like?" Hazy asked, the touch of her breath warm on Pavana's flesh, her lower lips bolstered up by the nest of soft curls.
"I like," Pavana murmured, smiling deeply, holding Hazy's stare fearlessly now. She had made her decision to accept, to enjoy, to feel, and the doubt that possessed her before was completely gone; she was a participant now, wholeheartedly.
"Oh, I want to touch you all over," Hazy breathed, her desire exacerbated by Pavana's transformation, a mad energy of lust invigorating her. Raising up from the floor, her hands pushing lighty down on Pavana's knees as she rose, she straightened up and stood tall, grinning with crafty endeavor. Going around behind Pavana and pausing there, she waited for a few teasing seconds, then slid her hands neatly up over her slender shoulders, the right one stealing inside the satin shirt between the first and second buttons, the left one below it easing in at an opposite angle between the second and third buttons, the tips of her fingers settling nicely around the tops of Pavana's naked tits. Squeezing softly, she molded the supple flesh, bunching it gently in her curving fingers, and Pavana moaned excitedly, her face turning back and straining upward, her lips wide and thirsting for a kiss. Hazy accepted the soft shape of her upper lip between her lips, kissing her fervently, her tongue edging out to shift from one corner to the other of Pavana's mouth, luring her tongue out to greet it, and the heavy weight of her tits sloped down upon Pavana's shoulders as she gave herself to the kiss, stretching forward. Her hands tightened around Pavana's tits, pulling back and upward, and with a snapping around the first and second buttons of the shirt popped off, maximizing her access to the large globes, the nipples thrusting into her palms.
"I'll show you purple beasts and taffeta birds and crazy little valleys where golden bells ring all day," Hazy whispered into Pavana's ear, tasting the lobe with the tip of her tongue, exhaling her breath into the aperture. "And every day a holiday," she smiled, her lips circumnavigating the top of the ear, then moving over to her brow, tongue touching the soft trembling of the lid below it before trailing down along the side of her nose and briefly inside one nostril, and finally across her upper lip already bright with saliva from both their mouths. Pavana returned the kiss exuberantly, her head twisted all the way hack, her hair draped over her neck and shoulders, her eyes lightly closed. "Teach me," she murmured, "go ahead, teach...."
"Yeah," Hazy answered, and the word melted in both their mouths together like warm sugar, wet tongues joined and caressing.
With her head thrown all the way back and the muscles of her throat aching sharply with the resultant tension, Pavana opened her eyes as Hazy's mouth left hers, glimpsing the phantom pale of Hazy's nude figure fading away around her body, and she swiveled her face around to confront her face to face again. Hazy stood before her, stepping forward, and her hands came down around the woolen width of her hips, her fingers bunching into the thick fabric of the skirt, pushing it once more high enough to expose the top of the pantyhose, one hand gripping the taut rim of the garment just above Pavana's navel. She tugged down on the material, Pavana lifting the plump cushions of her buttocks up from the chair to make it easier for her, and the lowering pantyhose disclosed the rich pallor of her underbelly and the dense pubic thatch soaked down the middle with warm ooze from the slot of her vagina, her upper thighs and the soft width of their smooth, wan inner slopes. Hazy rolled the pantyhose down to her knees, releasing the nylon, and knelt, her mouth forging a thin smile, her gaze riveted appreciatively on the rippled labia before her, fruity sweet odor steaming richly from within.
"Ready?" Hazy asked considerately, smiling, wanting her next move to be fully expected and anticipated so that sharing it would be all the more enjoyable, and when Pavana gave her consent with an obliging nod, she brought her right hand up with the three middle fingers held together and embedded them in the vertical split of Pavana's pussy. She pushed the fingers in as far as she could and they sank past the second line of her knuckles. She spread them as far apart as she could manage inside the warm sac, her own cunt vibrating hotly between her legs as she saw a molten pearl drip from the slit. Her face spun down and she darted her tongue after the droplet, catching it and sucking it into her mouth, her eyes searching Pavana's eyes staring intemperately back at her, requesting every outrageous and extravagant indulgence now that Pavana had made her choice.
The movement of her legs inhibited by the pantyhose binding her calves, Pavana twisted her hands down and rolled the fabric with the fronts of her thumbs down further past her out-tilted knees, over them, and down over her calves, stretching forward as she did so, the soft flow of her black hair pouring over the bright yellow of Hazy's head as she attentively mouthed Pavana's throbbing clit, her enveloped fingers jacking leisurely up and down in the warm pudding directly beneath her en-framed chin. Sensing what was happening, Hazy reached out and helped Pavana force the pantyhose down to her ankles, Hazy peeling it off for her around both heels when it went beyond the other's reach. She held the divested lingerie for a little while in the backward thrust of her hands, then swept it to one side, still suckling and pumping her fingers with the rapt preoccupation of an artist. Her chin was macerated with frothy spend, her eyes shut and pressed into the meadowy underbelly, locked fingers afloat. She could hear Pavana moaning as she worked and played with her body with feverish determination. Unconfined, Pavana's legs moved in a soft curving embrace around the smooth nave of Hazy's back, twitching with spasms of erotic fulfillment as tiny orgasms bucked and churned her body, her toes arching and tensing, heels banging Hazy's soft buttocks.
Hazy's heart was racing, her breasts swinging heavily from the front of her body as she continued her homage to Pavana's beauty, but she was beginning to smother herself in her eagerness, so she decided it was time to come up for air. Besides, she thought with clear certainty , she wanted to try a little of this and a little of that. There were so many things to do, it wouldn't make sense to get into a rut. A rut? She laughed mentally at the pun. Drawing back from the bowl of Pavana's thighs, she unsheathed her three fingers and held her hand up to scrutinize it. Her fingers were marbled with juice, sparkling with light. Raising them generously to Pavana's face, she made a gift of them, wanting them herself but wanting more for Pavana to taste herself. Pavana nodded, once, moaning lowly, and opened her mouth around first and forefinger, her tongue scouring the warm booze of her cunt from the warm length of the finger, then curling around the other two fingers and cleansing them with a serpentine lapping.
"Any good?" Hazy asked when Pavana stopped licking her fingers, and Pavana delighted her by giving a mimetic demonstration of her reply: turning Hazy's hand back upon her and using it like an artist's brush to paint her smiling face with her own fingers, the saliva marking her cheeks with bands of iridescent light.
"I could paint a picture on you using my cunt as a palette," Pavana said with musing contemplation. "Or lead an orchestra in a symphony," she went on, grinning, turning Hazy's arm this way and that as if it were a conductor's baton. Her smile grew as she mulled over the idea, filling her whole face with radiance, and she drew Hazy's hand back now between her legs, guiding the three fingers again inside herself and stirring her cunt with them as an artist might work up a liquidity of color on a palette with a vigorous stirring of the brush.
"What kind of painting?" she asked Hazy, smilng warmly down at her, continuing to stir in the fingers in the brimming well of her sex with a slow deliberation, thoughts of Picasso and Renoir and Matisse and Monet and Modigliani and Van Gogh rain-bowing her mind with bold impressions of color and glimmerings of style and composition: pink nudes, yellow and orange meadows, wind carved, bouquets of carmine bright and violet flowers, breasts and hips and arms as dark as chocolate and golden with light rivers of stars in skies as black as silk.
"Oil, honey," Hazy said with rich sexiness, her one desire and ambition in the world now to be a canvas worked on with the tempera of Pavana's cunt.
"Honey or oil?" Pavana said, chuckling under her breath, pretending not to understand. "Make up your mind, honey...."
"Feels like oil in your cunt, honey," Hazy answered, and they both laughed together, enjoying each other thoroughly, no semblance of restraint or unfamiliarity left between them. Pavana slipped the hand out of her cunt and held it up, bending Hazy's arm back from the elbow and turning it toward her face, Hazy smiling eagerly as the warm fingers touched against her cheeks and nose, making her argent with come. Then a phone rang, interrupting them. It was an abrupt reminder of a more mundane and mechanical reality, the world of objects and conventions, things and transactions, all the more irritating since the idea of a phone here with them seemed somehow inappropriate, inapplicable to their concerns of the moment-a phone? Ringing? Jolted by the sound, they both turned, looking for the phone as it rang again. Annoyance governed their expressions, and neither of them made a move to reach for the phone, which they both located at a glance-on the floor against the nearby wall. The phone rang a third time, persistently, a fourth, and a fifth, coercively, before Hazy animated herself and crawled the short distance to it, reaching the receiver off the hook.
"Hello," she said, feeling slightly foolish and disquieted as she waited for a reply.
"Hello," the voice, a man's, on the other end said. I There was a short pause, then he went promptly on, booming the words out headlong, "I hope you're watching our movie tonight on Melodramas by Moonlight, 'cause if you are you've got a big chance to win a giant jackpot and a bonanza bonus, not to mention a shot at our Tickets to Tahiti dartboard and/or a case of absinthe, your weight in roast beef or pressed turkey, a complete set of the works of the writer of your choice bound in used saddle leather and delivered by marabou. This is Teddy Neddy at KLAY, right here in downtown San Francisco, do you read me, m'am, and are you watching our feature this evening Never So High, starring the Pilot, the Co-Pilot, the Navigator, the Ball Turret Gunner, the Boy in the Tail, and the Flakettes. Ifs a sky high hit!"
Hazy looked at the phone as if it were a small rodent she had just unearthed. "Huh?" she said. "Reet!" the man chirped.
"Who is it?" Pavana asked Hazy, noting the odd expression on her face and sitting erect in the chair, folding her dress back for the moment over her thighs, the erotic mood shattered.
"Sounds like a wrong number," Hazy said, then listened for the caller's next line, which was, "So, does the rain hurt the rhubarb?"
"I think you've got the wrong number," Hazy said
"Sounds right," the man said. "Sounds reet as rain seen through a windowpane, jane. You've got a voice like the touch of a nightingale's wing in a ward for the weird, and I'm endeared. ZeetY'
"I really don't know what to say to your routine,, dean," Hazy said, irritated by strangely impressed as well.
"Oh mean, queen!" the man exclaimed. "But I'm on the tracks for love, dove, and you sound like berries in May."
"Who the fuck is this?" Hazy said, glaring at the phone.
"Crazy, lady," the man said, laughing, and Hazy tried to place the voice, but it was useless. Besides, how could she know anyone who was calling her here and now-and was he in some way connected with the party-or what? She had no idea what was going on.
"Who are you?" she asked again, and waited patiently, refusing to be a foil any longer. Glancing at Pavana, she said, sotto voce, "Sounds like someone who fell off a tall peak."
"Secret admirer," the man said mysteriously.
"I'm at an orgy, dear," Hazy said. "You can't be too secret if you know that."
"I'm at the orgy, muffin cake," the man said.
"Well. Now we're getting somewhere. And where are you at the orgy, georgie?" Hazy said, imitating his technique without acrimony.
"Nibbled by pirhana," he laughed, "but I'm out for Jaws, Hazy. Yours. Maybe you and I and the shrink could write a chapter in ink that's pink, zinc?"
"You wanna fuck?" Hazy asked him, getting to the point.
"If it rhymes with luck."
"Just a minute," Hazy said. She put her palm over the receiver, and, turning to Pavana, said, "Honey, this sounds like an in-paEient and you're more qualified to talk to him than I am. Care to?"
Pavana made a pouting race. "Business now?" she said in protest. "Hazy, I'd like to get back to what we were doing, wouldn't you?"
"Shall I hang up?" Hazy asked. She shrugged. "I don't care, Pavana, I know that what we've got started is guaranteed a golden finish. It just seems like you might like to try your luck with this weirdo. Professional interest, n'est-ce pasi"
"Well...." Pavana looked unenthusiastically from Hazy to the phone she held at her side, then capitulated with a little sigh of mock-frustration, and got up, crossing the room to accept the phone. Taking the instrument into her hand, she gave Hazy a sharp sensual glance through eyes still hazed with a dreamy light from their dalliance, making it clear that she had little inclination to divide her attention between Hazy and the phone. Their faces loomed near each other as the phone was passed from hand to hand, Hazy's cheeks stippled with scented light, and Pavana gave in automatically to an impulse to bend closer and taste the soft damp skin, her nostrils inhaling the clammy aroma of come, their tongues touching and encirling in Hazy's mouth. She broke only with great of will, and turned her attention to the phone with minimal interest, saying flatly into the receiver, "Hello."
"That an invitation?" the man said in a hopeful voice.
"An invitation to what?" Pavana asked irritably. "Who are you, where are you, and what's this call all about? I'm not much interested in conversation, so why don't you get it out and stop wasting our time."
"I'd like to spend time with you, wastefully."
"What are you talking about?" Pavana said coldly. "Make your point!"
"All right, hold on," the man said, chastised by her humorlessness. "Don't give it up, sweet. I'll get it out, straight. From the heart, keen?"
Pavana said sarcastically, "You aren't reaching me, I'm afraid." But she was nonetheless fascinated, a bit, by the unusual diction, which was unquestionably imaginative. "Who are you?" she repeated, less angrily now.
"Downstairs, cake. Should be about two rooms over, I'd say, but I can feel you both up there, warming that bitty room, sending out hot vibes, I can smell the peaches, and I'd love to add a pinch of inch, believe me...."
"Go on," Pavana said, her manner softening, her eyes on Hazy's indeterminate expression.
"A simple story," he said. "I was tracking you both on your way upstairs. Admiring from afar. I watched you go into the room. You're new here, both of you. There's a custom goes with the room: a phone call admits a third party to the scene in progress, whatever it is. The idea is not knowing who's there. Which makes me a cheat, neat? I even know your names. Asked around."
"You want to come up and cut in on us and you can't even speak English," Pavana said, amusement dissolving her sobriety.
"Do."
"He wants to join us," Pavana said to Hazy, her palm cupped over the mouthpiece. "He says the phone is here to admit any caller to whatever is happening whenever-and he watched us come up here. He knows our names from asking around."
"And he wants a menage?" Hazy said, nodding with a reflective grin. "Well, you've got to admire his incentive."
"I was enjoying you an awful lot, dear," Pavana said. She paused, thinking, then speculated, in a softer voice, "But it might be interesting to, you know, get into deeper waters , ... I mean, if you don't-"
"Object?" Hazy put in, smiling. She laughed and touched the rigid bud capping one of Pavana's tits with gentle fingers. "Not if I hadn't already sounded your depths, Pavana, but I have, and we'll have more time, like I said. I don't want to be selfish, no. I think I'd like to share a cock with you. See how we flow together. Want to?"
"Um, I ... think so," Pavana said slowly, with a thoughtful smile, and she nodded decisively, making up her mind. "Yes, I would, Hazy." She looked at Hazy with a quick grin, seeing that she was just as eager to go along with the idea, maybe even a bit more eager, and she felt an uplifting surge of licentious anticipation realizing how quickly her change from detached observer to spirited bacchante had been effected. She slipped her fingers from the mouthpiece of the phone and, smiling into it, whispered softly, "Come on up...." Her eyes met Hazy's as she gave the phone back to her, and they smiled together, two playmates joyfully amenable to each other's thoughts and urges.
"You're so beautiful, Hazy," Pavana said, overwhelmed by the need to express some affection for her seducer, and, as Hazy turned back toward her after returning the phone to its cradle, she went down on her knees and wrapped her arms around the backs of her calves, sliding her hands up along the sleek tender flesh of her upper thighs to the firm cushions of her buttocks, letting her long fingers play into the narrow vale between the plump curves, the crease widening to segregate the halves of her ass as she pulled outward with her spread fingers, making enough room so she could prod one middle finger against the tight dint of her asshole, spunk running like thin syrup over her hands from the un-pursed split of her cunny. Pavana's lips caressed Hazy's knees and she kissed her way, slowly, fondly, upward, her lips placing bland kisses from thigh to thigh in a criss-cross pattern, tongue garnishing each kiss with a damp touch, her hands tightening around the broad buttocks as she rose higher, the bold middle finger snugging into the viscid density of anus just as her mouth reached the warm moistness of cunt brandished through its wealth of silken foliage.
"I never thought I'd ever ... kiss a cunt," Pavana said, her eyes closed, her lips opening around the exploratory tip of her tongue tasting into the come-rimed shoal and moving in partial submersion along the span of the slit from its base to the high pink prominence of the clit. Easing her head back, her eyelashes brushing lightly against the silvery-gold nest of curls, she pressed her nose firmly forward and into the groove, the slick labia folding tautly around her nostrils and sealing them shut, shutting off her breathing. She felt Hazy's hands wanter into the waves of dark hair framing her cheeks, her fingers separating to comb back and up through the soft flow and around the back of her skull, pulling her further into the warm liquidity, her nose absorbed completely, and she had a sudden placid, inspired vision of herself gliding smoothly downward through calm pink realms of ocean water toward darker lavender depths, her hair and arms and legs trailing like penants along behind her. Hazy shifted her legs, balancing her weight more firmly, her toes scrabbling and curling on the floor as the nose bobbed within her slot, and she pressed helpfully downward with the lower part of her body, mashing Pavana with mellow softness of cunt and thigh, capturing her buried face between the broad columns of her thighs and thrusting gently against the penetration of her nose, running her fingers up through the softness of her hair and smoothing them down again around the round curving of her head Pavana's tongue, below the infiltration of her nose, moved out between her lips and snaked into the narrow space partitioning the wide back-curving shapes of Hazy's ass cheeks, flickering there, stroking up vinegarish and licorice tastes of asshole, her nose moving, head rocking between the lulling thighs.
Hazy was so weak with passion, and weakening by the moment, that she was certain her legs wouldn't support her for another half-minute. She swayed drunkenly on her feet, riding Pavana's uptilted face, hands shivering up under the loose weight of her own tits to grip and squeeze the sweltering flesh, her mouth erupting with an orgasmic moan. She came suddenly, and dynamically, and the brightness and impact of the orgasm expanded her consciousness with a bursting aurora of vivid pink light, brightening to luminosity as the tremors riddle her cunt all the way down into the cavern of her womb and through her packed viscera, the very hair on her arms and legs seeming to tingle electrically with sensation as her body lifted with the ascent. Her receding cunt freed Pavana's dream-worn face and Pavana slipped back, her buttocks settling on the tops of her heels, her smile other-worldly. Her upper lip was limned with opalescent spittle, her nose agleam, and her cheeks were marked with two thin parentheses of froth where the ovoid clasp of Hazy's labia had left their signature. She touched her fingers lightly to her face, the soft tips scanning delicately over cheeks and nose, then drifting away, and she held the hand out before her, giving it to Hazy, who accepted, kneeling down beside her eagerly to kiss the cool palm and spreading fingers. Their arms twining about each other, they joined their lips together and traded tongues voluptuously back and forth, Pavana's cheeks damply grazing Hazy's with each lingering kiss, their tits squeezed nipple to nipple, their cunts cooking with warmth between their thighs.
"My nerves are singing," Hazy murmured to Pavana, caressing her temples, touching at tangled shards of radiant hair tumbled darkly across her forehead. "Hear 'em?" she asked. "It sounds like a whole chorus doing a medley of love songs ... like every synapse was sending lyrics, turning me into music, uhhhhmmmmmmm...." The sound was a heavy growled sigh of satisfaction, like a lazy lioness in sleep.
"I'm so glad you taught me music appreciation," Pavana whispered, and she raised her face to move it pleasantly against the fingers her stroking her forehead. "I can't get enough of feeling you," she murmured, her mouth roving over the backs of the fingers and the back of the hand to the turning wrist, kissing eloquently.
Firing each other with glances, the mutual caressing contact of lips and hands stroking the flame, they were working into a fevered mood all over again. But the mood was disrupted by the abrupt sound of two firm clear knocks on the door.
Pavana started, her tongue pausing on the edge of Hazy's wrist, eyes widening at the sound, and Hazy glanced idly at the door, letting out a long slow breath. For a moment they were held in suspension, frozen in mid-motion, and then, adjusting, their minds returning to the memory of the man they were expecting, they smiled agreeably at each other, collaborators with a new orientation.
"Room service," Hazy suggested, smirking.
"Uhhmmm," Pavana nodded. "You order anything, Hazy?"
"Dessert," said Hazy, languorously, grinning, and she addressed the door softly, "It's open, come on in."
The man came into the room, pausing inside to shut the door behind him and standing still there to face them across the short distance between them. The confrontation was sudden and direct, his eyes meeting theirs, a crossfire of three stares ensuing-but within moments they were all three smiling faintly, provocatively, smiles that curved their lips like the spacy balm of a barbituate. He was tall, more slender than muscular but with an abundance of hair on his arms and legs and chest that gave him a sensuous physical presence, though his broadening smile evoked a milder image. He was wearing only a pair of orange briefs with a design of dragons rampant, and ready by the look in his eye to commence their activities without delay.
"You the dessert?" Hazy said to him, her tongue flowing up and over her upper lip like a famished wolfs, her eyes feasting on him hungrily.
"No, m'am, the main course," he rejoined, grinning, "but I'll be anything you want if you treat me right-strawberry shortcake, mulberry longcake, cherries jubilee, berries bicentennial, baked Alaska, cold Hawaii, a chocolate-covered frozen banana, sherbet, pie, apple pan dowdy, apple slump or crowdy, or just plain old Sweets Galore. Reet?"
Hazy and Pavana both be into laughter, too mellowed by now to resist a little weirdness. But they did not get carried away with the laughter: a sidelong glance from Hazy to Pavana, both nodding as their eyes met, precipitated the opening move: they moved on hands and knees, low and slinking like prowling cats, toward him, writhing up around his legs with coiling arms and bright eyes, their hands gliding over his hips and up along his waist and down, their fingers catching between his briefs and midriff and turning the fabric inside out as they rolled the briefs down, uncovering a phallus in semi-erect state, rigidly dropping.
Hazy had her mouth around it first, Pavana an instant behind her settling for the balls pouched down below. Hazy licked up along the inclined back of the cock all the way to its end, curling her tongue deftly down under and doubling back, the wet trailing touch burning energy into the flesh Pavana licking his balls with feathery touches of her generous tongue. The sides of their heads bumped softly, pressing against each other as their mouths moved over him, and they stopped momentarily, glancing at each other and up at him.
"Skeet!" he cried, his hands grabbing down around their heads to give them encouragement. He pulled them gently toward his body, his cock lifting now and swaying bulkily between their faces, from Hazy's mouth to Pavana's, and this time it was Pavana who claimed it, tucking her tongue skillfully along its underside and stretching her upper lip far back along its upper length and drawing it deeply into her mouth and into her throat, holding it there. Her mouth impaled on cock, her eyes opened to Hazy smiling back at her, and Pavana returned the smile with her eyes.
"Suck," advised Hazy, and to instigate her she began kissing her, blanketing her face with brief kisses, a flurry of them on her eyes and nose before progressing down to the cock hugely expanding Pavana's mouth. Her tongue traced the outline of Pavana's upper lip furled tightly over the width of cock, bringing soft moans from both her and him. "Suck," Hazy whispered again, her breath on Pavana's narrowly opened eyes, and Pavana nodded with a moan, shifting the cock downward with the motion, then slid her mouth back along it, sucking, her face blank with joy in withdrawal, brightening with a glow as she advanced again. As she suckled it her hands found Hazy's tits and her fingers snared the nipples in rough pinching caresses, Hazy's hands catching and cupping the sway of Pavana's tits and caressing them. With a groan, watching them, the man began to fuck Pavana in the mouth, the hard shaft moving in and out between her compliant lips, her tongue meeting it with each stroke. He could sense at length the tidal rumble of sperm in the tautness of his balls and paused, the cock pulsing against Pavana's tongue, her hands reaching from Hazy's tits to his hips, fingers tightening, urging him.
"No hurry," he told her, and when he was ready again began pumping her again, his cock moving back and forth within the expansion and contraction of her encompassing mouth.
"Seconds," Hazy said after a minute or two, content no longer to watch. Her hands closed around Pavana's cheeks, softly hollowed with the intensity of her suction, and she helped her draw her mouth back to release the rod, lowering her own mouth to take it in.
The man smiled down at them, thrusting his cock more aggressively into Hazy's mouth than he had into Pavana's, enjoying the immediate contrast of Hazy's more predatory technique as her suckling struck moist sparks of sucking sound from his throbbing shaft. His hand turned around her face and he angled himself into her mouth more efficiently, turning her so that the movement of his hips and the motion of her head coincided rhythmically, the velocity of his motion increasing considerably, her mouth speeding faster along and back from his cock. His other hand sought Pavana, the touch of his fingers on her upper arm bidding her to do something, anything, to add to their pleasure, and she nodded with a smile, understanding, considering her options for only a few seconds before acting. She crouched down behind Hazy, her face so low her cheek stirred the rug, the breath from her mouth sifted against the cream and rose-hued sole of one of Hazy's feet tucked under her ass. Her tongue extended, touching the concave line of toes, bloodless with the weight of her body on her foot, and she licked her way along the sole and along the softening curve of the foot over to the ruddy roundness of the heel, sliding the pinkness of her tongue between the dark rose of the heel and the pale white of the ass cheek pillowed on it. Hazy shuddered delectably with the touch of the tongue on her ass, the cock churning her lips in a blurry haze, her mouth filling with a lather of spit, sucking harder and harder. Behind her the flat of Pavana's tongue, like a wet pain brush, moved to the small of her back and straight up along the curve of her spine, arousing interna chills of sensation, the hair prickling on her nape the cock a heated bulk spilling in and out of her salivating mouth. Her shoulders twisted as the tongue rose between the wing-like blades and onto the back of her neck, Pavana's hands reaching around her sides to firm her hot tits, strumming the nipples, and she reached back blindly, fumbling with her hand to search beneath Pavana's skirt and cast her fingers into the warmly irrigated slit of her pussy, delving them all the way inside, all four of them, and paddling them excitedly, sucking the cock with the same rhythm, Pavana's tongue investigating her ear now, tasting the shiny inner surface with its faint amber spice of wax. Then both women weTe at the cock, Pavana pushing the hot hub of her cheek into conjuncture with Hazy's, fondling her tits more tenderly as the fingers stroked more evenly in the liquid silk of her snatch. An orgasm shook her body, twisting her cunt against the delicate fingers. Shivering with subsidiary bursts of pleasure, she began to kiss Hazy's forehead, blazoned with sweat, skimming the full droplets with her tongue, her taste buds overwhelmed by the sourish elegant taste. Hazy's eyes opened, turning and trying to focus, her suckling continuous. Pavana's tongue, desiring more flavor, tripped down along between the dazed eyes and onto the upper lip, feasting on the sheen of sweat there, then moving back to the dangling balls again, having come full circle. With Hazy suckling and Pavana licking, the man felt a rush of weakening sensation overtake him, felt his cock surge and pound with a premonitory energy, the come boiling in his balls.
Hazy, sensing it, expelled his cock without a second thought, grinning like a strumpet. triumphantly. "Love the taste of your cock," she said, "but we can't quit yet, weirdo, not until you've fucked us both, reet?" She smiled up at the man, his eyes glaring back at her, his empurpled cock head trailing a glutinous banner of blended saliva and cock juice. Pleasantly stunned by the sight, Pavana reached for the wavering cock, but Hazy urged her away, pointing at its visible turbulent throbbing. 'Wait till the fury of the storm passes-he'd come if you touched him with your little finger," she smiled, her face patched with scintillas of light where Pavana's tongue had touched her.
Pavana nodded and watched the tremoring of the cock abate, getting a weak nod from him when he was ready; then she moved herself sideways and down in the posture of a limbo dancer, opening her mouth wide while he dipped the liquid streamer from the tip of his cock onto her tongue, swallowing with pleasure.
"Aperitif," she said, and turned to kiss Hazy. "Love you, teacher," she said softly with her tongue in Hazy's mouth, tasting the roof of her mouth, their long lashes fluttering in convergence. Hazy closed her eyes, nursing her imagination with the kiss, her hands filling with the ripe swelling of Pavana's tits. She felt as if she were kneeling in a nimbus of purple light that seemed to well up from the floor, her body bathed completely in its powdery violet illumination, her blonde hair fired with purple, her face ashen and magenta like a surrealistic photo negative. She felt something, remotely, somewhere back in the world, and drew back lightly from the kiss, opening her eyes to see Pavana looking intently past her at something apparently significant. She felt the hot thickness of cock upended against the slim escarpment of her back.
"May I have this dance?" a voice said into her ear, followed by the merest delicate contact of the tip of a tongue, the touch almost indistinguishable at first to her senses but growing quickly in palpability as the tongue crept into the interior labyrinth of her ear, licking the fresh gloss and setting her nerves to humming.
"Oh, yeah," she said warmly, smiling at Pavana as she spoke, nodding with equanimity, "any old kind of dance you want-hornpipe, fandango, waltz, foxtrot, cakewalk, gavotte, bunnyhop ... or pavane...." She turned her head back over one shoulder as she finished speaking, her eyes squinting with torpid complaisance at his face perhaps an inch from hers. His mouth touched her lids, which she closed for him, and he caught the curving lashes between his unparted lips, moving his mouth from side to side against their fluttery movement. "Nice," she said in a sigh, opening her eyes again when he paused, this time seeing Pavana's face beside his, joining them. "Suck my tits," she suggested, smiling at them both, her hands reaching out to grasp one of his hands and one of Pavana's, pulling them to her with interlaced fingers, her grip tightening, pushing her tits up toward their respective mouths. Their mouths moved around the straining hardness of the nipples on the peaks of her tits, sucking heat into her flesh, priming her desire, translating her mind to fog while her body began to simmer with sensation. Her cunt began to warm like the embers of a spent fire fanned by sudden breezes, their mouths stroking her. "Oh, it's ... too much," she moaned, exhaling a gasp, her narrow shoulders pitching back to bring her torso erect and her breasts firm against the wet flatness of their tongues. She held their hands in a palsied embrace, fingers knotted with tension, and veered her body to each side, turning her tits with the shifting of their lips and tongues, feeling her cunt burn with yearning. "Wanttofuckyou," she said to the man, impulse slurring the words, seizing his hand as hard as she could. "C'mon, let's ... please...." Her voice giving in to a heavy sigh, she surrendered Pavana's hand and reached for the phallus jutting up from his body, her fingers winding down around it with their tips touching his balls and his bulbous glans pressing into the heel of her palm. Realigning her grip, she pulled her hand further down along the shaft, closing her fingers around it firmly, the head of his cock rising like a purple crown above the curve of her thumb and forefinger. "Taste?" she offered Pavana, who grinned back at her and over letting Hazy put the projecting head of the cock between her lips. She sucked at it while Hazy held it for her and was compensated by a sudden ooze of elixir that freshened her mouth, and as she pulled away, she parted her lips to let the transparent fluid dribble over Hazy's thumb and the back of her hand, Hazy squeezing the cock to discharge a tiny bit more of the precoital nectar. Hazy lowered her face to kiss the back of her own hand and move her lips to the bright plasm, then glanced up at Pavana and kissed her solidly on the mouth, their tongues warmly mingling.
"Tuck," Hazy said listlessly, turning back to the man, and she released him, spreading her hands down between her thighs and easing herself back, fading slowly back and downward with her hands smoothing up from her thighs to frame the blonde triangle of her fleece, her back and shoulders easing to the floor. She straightened her body, her feet turning outward as her legs stretched and her widening thighs tilted her knees outward, her head resting on the floor.
"Time to sail the salty seas, weird mariner," she said with a short laugh, her fingers pressing into the hedge of flaxen curls camouflaging her cunt and smoothing back the corrugated labial fringes against the soft hair to give him a look into the rose bright and coral pale niche. "Don't wait too long," she said imploringly, and her fingers stroked the lips gently until a glimmering of come appeared, her smile enraptured, as she watched his aroused expression.
He moved into the broad aisle formed by her widespread legs, Pavana directly behind him, his cock seeking the invitation of Hazy's body, his hands moving over her sleekly curvaceous hips, and she held herself open for him, readying her senses for the implosive entry, her teeth gleaming brightly through lips twisted into a wild smile. Their eyes met with the first hot touch of his cock at the portal of her vagina and he smiled back down at her, thrusting himself into her, both of them moaning as his shaft invested her channel with its thick heat, the lubricating cunt walls clutching along its length. The head of his cock nudged her cervix, touching bottom, and she experienced a sudden paroxysm of unmitigated sybaritic pleasure, her vision blurring, lips twisting, head tossing to one side, her breath whistling through clenched teeth. "Oh, please, yes!" she cried, and she raised herself to him, her arms clinging around his back, her calves enclosing him as she pulled her legs around his body and pushed her hips up against his.
"Go, go, go," she chanted, and clung to him with lethargic tenacity like a lazy old sloth hanging onto a tree limb, consciously holding back her own movements, wanting him to get it started. In the meantime she could feel Pavana's hand groping desirously at the damp juncture of cock and cunt below their merged bellies, her other hand caressing a leg curled tip across his back.
"Oh, so, nice" Hazy murmured, exhaling deeply to slacken the pressure between her body and the man's, her belly flexing just enough as the breath ebbed from her to permit Pavana's hand to slip up and touch her navel. She inhaled, then, deeply, pinning the itinerant hand between them, grinning, completely preoccupied with a mounting awareness of incipient pleasures, her mind casting up fleeting images of fanfare and flying colors, blizzards of confetti, calico songbirds flying through translucent rainbows.
Looking down at Hazy past the man half-slumped over her, seeing her features now accentuated with the tight bestial smile of a slumbering lynx in its lair after a quick kill and warm feast, Pavana felt a swiftly jealous urge to be in her place, to be, at least, a more integral part of the action. It was not enough to be a choreographer, an assistant, an attendant, a voyeur. She moved, guided by impulse, around the man, to a position beside Hazy's head, and she straddled her face without a word of warning, feeding on impulse now like a predator on carrion. Her knees turned at angles outward from her body, her cunt opening, the oiled interior embracing the fullness of Hazy's lips, which opened to let her tongue spear neatly upward, fixing her on its point Pavana groaned thickly, taking up the slack on Hazy's face so she could breathe, and use her tongue, and the next thing she knew her own tongue was at the lips of the man facing her, his cock beginning to move in and out, with tantalizing slowness, of the brimming gully of Hazy's sex.
The man's mouth opened with a gasp to receive Pavana's kiss, his tongue teasing hers into his mouth, suckling it, and the exquisite tension of their kiss made him move his cock harder and faster in Hazy's gripping puss, which touched off a maddening viper-ish flickering of Hazy's tongue in Pavana's cunt, the three of them suddenly soaring into states of hyper-physical sensation together, tongue to cunt, cock to cunt, mouth to mouth. Their measured motion kept them moving like a well-oiled, efficient, soft, sensual machine. Hazy's thoughts melted, turning to bursts; of celestial light in her mind, and she seemed to become a mere psychic extension of her lashing tongue and pulsating cunt, almost disembodied with a sense of compulsive enjoyment, bucking her hips to oscillate her pelvis and rolling her face within the wet heat of Pavana's pussy.
Lurching and swaying from the impact of two tongues, the man's in her mouth, and Hazy's in the lush casement of her vulva, Pavana reached down excitedly with one hand to turn her fingers around the shaft dredging in and out of Hazy's puss, wanting to feel as much as she possibly could. Her hand fumbled at the thick rod anointed with Hazy's spunk, touching briefly at the top of Hazy's slit, a sensation like groping for a tadpole in a streamlet.
Moving in unison, with each other's cooperation and inspiration, they seemed to almost leisurely flow together with a kind of hot imperative grace of motion, all giving and taking in equal measure, fucking and kissing, and tonguing each other with regard only for their partners each knowing, or perhaps only sensing, that pleasure would beget pleasure. Time slipped out of focus. Their eyes shut, they ascended simultaneously through their skins and flew together, faster, faster, higher, up, gliding amid sonorous and somnolent spaces of the mind and unmoored body. Fucking. Kissing. Hearing only the threshing of tongue in cunt and tongues softly fencing and palpitating cock flashing in and out of seething cunt.
Then for all three of them it was like a trip through the Milky Way in a runway roller coaster with the winds and mists of space burning their bodies and blinding their eyes. Pavana's orgasm took her with nerve-shattering force, and with a grunt she fairly came, pressing her ass down on Hazy's head and lifting herself lightly on the soles of her feet as her pussy sluiced a warm vaginal broth into Hazy's ardent mouth, the action triggering Hazy's orgasm, causing her to writhe on the floor, stiffening her legs, and causing her puss to convulse, the adhesive walls of her channel pulling and suckling and setting the engulfed cock off, bolts of hot come jetting into the receptacle of her womb. She emitted a sob, her tongue skidding in Pavana's briny splay, the sexual taste of the sea flavoring her mouth, a thin wash of fluid running into her nose, her cunt singing with sensation.
Time passed. Seconds limped past the dazed and sprawled bacchantes, Pavana huddled on Hazy's face with spread thighs, the man sloped sluggishly forward between her full breasts, his lips fastened obstinately on a taut nipple, Hazy submerged beneath the weight of both their bodies. A minute passed before there was movement, and then like the victims of an explosion they each began to stir, to murmur silently, to slowly detach themselves from one another, feeling about themselves and looking slowly, and with transfixed smiles, at each other.
Hazy was the first to find her voice. "I feel," she said, grinning at the man, and turning to wink with whimsical lubricity at Pavana, "like an elephant stubbed his toe on my labia majora...."
"Yeah, and I feel like the gray oaf," the man said, nodding confirmation. He looked with a vaguely startled expression down at his fading penis, temporarily immobilized but still damp with both their spendings, pearly rills swirled around its length.
"Poor boy," said Pavana with an arch smile, and took the flaccid staff in her hand to knead it gently, a last pearl of sperm draining from the tiny lips at the ministration of her touch. "Mmmmmmmmm," she said, and bent down to squeeze it onto her nose. "Aren't we nice?" she asked Hazy.
"Sugar and spice, love," Hazy averred, and touched the sequin of sperm with the flat top of her tongue, blotting it up, and turning back to kiss the man very lightly, with an incontinent little chuckle, "Taste good?" she wanted to know, her features poised somewhere between an iniquitous and an innocuous expression.
"You taste good," the man said. One of his hands moved down into the rich melange of her pudding soft cunt, the fingers stroking in the veils of come there, causing her to grit her teeth pleasurably and expel a hissing breath, sweetly trembled by his touch.
"The headwaters of the Nile have nothing on my cunny," Hazy remarked, her eyes smiling as she looked from the man to Pavana. "Or, for that matter, the Amazon, the Blue Danube, the mighty Mississippi, or just any old river feeding off the waste of a perfume factory and filled with dirty pink crawlies that melt like smelt in a lecher's mouth."
The man gave her a strange look. "That's kind of rococo, no?"
"So?"
Pavana said, in a more serious tone, "I guess ... I won't get fucked now."
"Not for a time," the man ascertained, consulting his phallus, "yes, I should say not for a bit of time yet."
"Not that I didn't get my share," Pavana said, glancing at Hazy with a soft smile. "Your tongue is...." She hesitated, closing her eyes for a moment in contemplation, but when a sufficiently flattering metaphor eluded her, exlcaimed, "It's the cat's pajamas, Hazy!"
"And that cozy warm grotto where I was spelunking is the dog's silk hat," the man added, with an emphatic nod.
"Are these compliments?" Hazy asked, feigning a sullen look but smiling quickly again as she met Pavana's eyes. "I'm glad you liked it, honey," she said. "Told you to give it a try, didn't I?"
Pavana nodded, staring at her with warmth. "Yeah...."
An easy silence intervened, accented by a salacious exchange of smiles all around, then Hazy moved nearer Pavana, drawing herself up against the front of her body, cuddling herself into her arms and resting the side of her face against the upper slope of a breast inside the open shirt, holding her with her arms around her torso and her hands clutched up around her shoulders. "Pretty, pretty girl," Hazy whispered, the movement of her lips sketching each syllable on the supersensitive surface of Pavana's breast.
Pavana held her, beaming, inhaling the fragrance of her sweat-dampened hair, a humid, summery smell. She was about to kiss her on the forehead a gesture of affection when the phone rang suddenly again.
"Could be our agent," the man quipped, after a second ring, then picked up the receiver and said into the mouthpiece, "Yeah, Icarus, Icarus, and Icarus-flights of fancy our speciality. Who's calling?"
"Another call, wow," Hazy mused, shaking her head lightly against Pavana's breast. "This is some room."
"Might be a contest this time," Pavana said, watching the man listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. "Somebody calling to ask which perversion we're practicing."
"Pullin' taffy," Hazy smiled, shaking her head again on the cushion of Pavana's tit. "Wickedest weird pasttime in the candy pantry."
The man listened attentively to the caller for a minute or so, saying nothing himself, then nodded, muttering a brief, "Yeah, okay, thanks," and hung up. He looked at Hazy and Pavana and said, "Like cake?"
"Cake?" they asked simultaneously.
"Yeah, the pastry chef has a cake. Chef d'oeuvre, he called it. Something to share with a lady or two. He says. No guys." He frowned in annoyance at the thought. "Says if anybody here-ladies, that is-would like to please the ghost of Marie Antoinette, make haste to the larder."
"You suppose it's lewder in the larder?" Hazy asked Pavana, looking up at her.
"It's like room service in Teverse," said Pavana, enjoying the novel idea. She smiled. "You like cake, Hazy?"
"Chocolate or white?"
"Didn't say," the man said, shrugging.
"Doesn't, I suppose, really matter. I do like cake."
"Well, then, I say, let 'em eat cake," said the man, to himself, and he gave a sigh. He stood up, then bent down to kiss Pavana on the mouth and Hazy just below the curve of her lower lip. "Let 'em eat cake," he said again, and was gone through the door without even glancing back to see their lackadaisical smiles.