Chapter 3
On the island of St. Lazure, Madame Michele Duval, if not actually the Goddess of Sex, was its high priestess. Her tawny-haired look was that of a sex-kitten who had grown up, and the same might be said of her special Le Club Gala voiced a preference to screw Michele, instead of one of her girls. She always laughingly declined these hot-pants compliments.
She had come to St. Lazure from Paris, many years ago. She was rumored to have gotten her knowledge of every known and unknown variation of fucking first hand in the notorious Place Pigalle, vice-headquarters of Paris. Now she, and Le Club Gala, her combination villa, night-club and girl stable were known throughout the Caribbean. The moneyed jet-set from the States knew that Michele and Le Club Gala could give them the most exquisite refinements in sex, straight, queer, or you name it ... at a price.
But only Michele Duval knew the pessimistic report on her health, and that Gala had lost money last year. One such fact alone would have been enough to make Michele sad. Two-well, that was calamitous. Especially heaped one upon the other. No, it was no picnic for a woman to have so much bad news hit her all at once.
The thing about money, of course, wasn't really so important. Thinking about it, Michele could easily see a way out. She could always put the club up for sale. Although finding a willing buyer might prove a bit difficult unless she played it with her usual amount of caginess.
But the thing about her health was quite a shock. Sure, she had know she was failing for some time now. She had even put off the trip to see the doctor on the mainland just to postpone the irksome knowledge a while longer.
Only she hadn't realized how serious it was. Until today. And all the way back from the mainland, the doctor's voice had pursued her like a ghost foretelling her doom. The tests and X-rays just couldn't be wrong. If Michele Duval didn't slow down she would be a corpse within a year. A beautiful corpse, to be sure, but a corpse nonetheless.
Slow down?
The thought made Michele queasy. She would have to get out of St. Lazure and buy a little chicken farm or something like that. But it would take money. More money than she had. So how could she possibly slow down?
Certainly she couldn't let anyone know of her condition. In order to get a decent price for her combination nightclub and call-house she would have to keep it going at full blast. The winter vacation season was getting under way. No, she couldn't afford to take it easy.
But, by the same token, she couldn't afford to be as active as she had once been. Not with the threat of sudden death hanging over her head.
Oh, well, it made no sense to cry about it. She would manage somehow, just as she always did. And it was good to be back on the island again after that vexing journey to the mainland. In her own house she would find peace. And a little something to sooth her ruffled nerves.
Ah, yes, a little something....
In the cool of her bedroom, Michele wasted no time. She called for Yvette to fix her a tall, frosty drink and then help her undress. Yvette was her second-in-command, a pretty creature who was smart enough to take orders and too smart to question them.
"And what's been happening lately, Yvette? Anything new during my absence?"
"Nothing much. Business is slow. But it will be picking up soon. The vacationers are arriving. It's true about the New York girl."
"Paula Jardine. So she's really coming. I wonder if she'll remember me."
"Of course she will, Michele. How could anybody ever forget you? Of all people I've ever known you're the one who stands out the most."
"Sweet. You're so loyal, Yvette. But I only met Paula Jardine that one time. It was at a party in San Juan."
"She'll remember."
"I hope so. She should, anyway. We left the party together that night. What we did afterward I'm not saying." Michele smiled in recollection. "But it was enough. Enough so that we were more than mere acquaintances."
"Now I'm sure she'll remember you."
"Perhaps. But it was a long time ago. Long before I came here and set up shop on St. Lazure."
"No matter. She'll remember."
"But tell me, Yvette, how is the town taking it? Paula is a pretty well-known person these days."
"Oh, everybody is excited. There's something else too. There's a rumor around that a movie star might be coming. Diane Gay lord imagine. It turns out that she's a friend of Brenda Kenyon, of all people."
"Brenda? That cow? Will wonders never cease? Frankly though, I'm going to treat it as a rumor and nothing more. I'll believe it when I see it come true." Michele stretched and a gently lassitude crept over her naked body. "Yvette? Want to put me to sleep?"
"To sleep?"
"Uh-huh. In that nice way."
"Oh...." Yvette's eyes glistend. "I'd love to. Come, let me make you all nice and-"
"Wait."
"Hmmm?"
"Call Goldie in, will you?"
"Goldie? What for? Why can't you let me-"
"Don't whine, Yvette. Call her."
"Oh, all right."
Yvette went out and returned a moment later. Behind her came the young girl whom Michele had nicknamed Goldie. A native of one of the more distant islands, the girl had copper skin that every so often took on a tinge of rose. Now, in the late afternoon sunlight peeping through the blinds, she actually looked as if some artist had highlighted her coloring with pink.
"Do you want me to stay?" Yvette said glumly.
"Yes dear. And stop sulking. I only want Goldie to stand here and fan me."
"Ohh. You devil." Yvette was suddenly swept up in a new mood. "You just lie there and let me arrange it. I know exactly what to do."
It didn't take long. Michele closed her eyes and then opened them again as she felt the breeze. Goldie was fanning her. On the girl's head was a maid's cap pertly perched. On her feet were patent-leather pumps with high pencil-slim heels. Around her waist was a tiny apron, white and starched and in complete contrast to her dusky skin. Aside from that, Goldie's lovely young body was uncovered.
"Yvette."
"Yes?"
"Now. Love me."
Michele melted in delight as Yvette's lips touched her. A little something, she thought, a little something to relax her and put her to sleep. A little something-just like this. Yvette was so good at it.
The breeze from the fan felt wonderful. Michele reached out and placed her hand on Goldie's thigh in appreciation. It caught her eye and she turned her head slightly to view it more easily, her white hand on the coppery skin. Then her fingers crept upward and disappeared beneath the apron. The girl kept on fanning.
The sensation was sheer ecstasy. The touch of Goldie's hairless flesh was a joy in itself. Michele had insisted that the girl keep herself smooth and clean-shaven even under her armpits and above her pussy; it made her look like a child not yet budded into womanhood.
The other sensation was fine, too. Yvette's fluttering lips were infinitely skilled. Daintily, delicately, they sought and found her cuntlips. Then, as Michele began to writhe, the lips became less delicate. Now there was wild avidity in the way they leeched and clung to her erect clitoris.
Michele's fingers probed, Goldie's moist, hot cunt delicately.
With the fan in her hand, Goldie just stood there. The wave of her arm was her only motion. But her eyelids were partly closed now and her breathing seemed erratic.
Just a bit tired, Michele moved her hand down from under the apron, letting it linger momentarily so that she could see the colorful contrast again. But she could read disappointment in the way the girl's body seemed to go into a kind of drooping posture. Goldie was unhappy, apparently.
"Yvette?"
"MMMM?"
"Let the kid help you."
"Huh? Oh...."
Michele gave the rosy thigh a little spurring pinch. "Go ahead, Goldie. Do you want to?"
"Oh yes, Miss Michele."
There was a flurry of activity at the foot of the bed. With her eyes closed, Michele felt her legs being moved this way and that. Until-as they came to rest-she became a mass of tingling nerve-ends under the two mouths.
Two mouths. Both eager to please one licking her cuntlips, the other nibbling her nipples. It was a good thing she had enough intimate nooks and crannies to go around. Otherwise one would have been left out in the cold and that just wouldn't have been fair. But they seemed to be doing all "Michele?"
"Hmmm? What's the matter, Yvette?"
"I'm getting excited."
"Oh...."
"Don't you want to ... uh...."
"No, dear. Just go on cunt-lapping me as you are."
A small depression settled upon Michele. How she would have loved joining the two of them in a free-for-all frenzied embrace. It would be such fun. But those days were gone forever, now that she had finally accepted the doctor's decree. No, all she could have now was a little something.
But poor Yvette would probably be upset. It wasn't right to leave her hung up like that. There was Goldie, too, to take into consideration.
"Yvette."
"Mmmm?" appreciation. It caught her eye and she turned her head slightly to view it more easily, her white hand on the coppery skin. Then her fingers crept upward and disappeared beneath the apron. The girl kept on fanning.
The sensation was sheer ecstasy. The touch of Goldie's hairless flesh was a joy in itself. Michele had insisted that the girl keep herself smooth and clean-shaven even under her armpits and above her pussy; it made her look like a child not yet budded into womanhood.
The other sensation was fine, too. Yvette's fluttering lips were infinitely skilled. Daintily, delicately, they sought and found her cuntlips. Then, as Michele began to writhe, the lips became less delicate. Now there was wild avidity in the way they leeched and clung to her erect clitoris.
Michele's fingers probed, Goldie's moist, hot cunt delicately.
With the fan in her hand, Goldie just stood there. The wave of her arm was her only motion. But her eyelids were partly closed now and her breathing seemed erratic.
Just a bit tired, Michele moved her hand down from under the apron, letting it linger momentarily so that she could see the colorful contrast again. But she could read disappointment in the way the girl's body seemed to go into a kind of drooping posture. Goldie was unhappy, apparently.
"Yvette?"
"MMMM?"
"Let the kid help you."
"Huh? Oh...."
Michele gave the rosy thigh a little spurring pinch. "Go ahead, Goldie. Do you want to?"
"Oh yes, Miss Michele."
There was a flurry of activity at the foot of the bed. With her eyes closed, Michele felt her legs being moved this way and that. Until-as they came to rest-she became a mass of tingling nerve-ends under the two mouths.
Two mouths. Both eager to please one licking her cuntlips, the other nibbling her nipples. It was a good thing she had enough intimate nooks and crannies to go around. Otherwise one would have been left out in the cold and that just wouldn't have been fair. But they seemed to be doing all "Michele?"
"Hmmm? What's the matter, Yvette?"
"I'm getting excited."
"Oh...."
"Don't you want to ... uh...."
"No, dear. Just go on cunt-lapping me as you are."
A small depression settled upon Michele. How she would have loved joining the two of them in a free-for-all frenzied embrace. It would be such fun. But those days were gone forever, now that she had finally accepted the doctor's decree. No, all she could have now was a little something.
But poor Yvette would probably be upset. It wasn't right to leave her hung up like that. There was Goldie, too, to take into consideration.
"Yvette."
"Mmmm?"
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Afterward-uh-when you're finished with me in here, it's okay if you take Goldie to your room. You want to?"
"Uh-huh. Love to."
"All right with you, Goldie?"
"Yes, Miss Michele."
Michele quivered as the girl's breathy words tickled her cuntlips. If felt so funny. But there were no more words coming from Goldie's open mouth now and the contact of mouth and cunt was sealed again. Michele reached down to pat the burrowing head with a kind of affectionate caress. And she felt the tiny tongue reply silently with a tender lick on her clitoris. Yes, she was glad that she could give these two darlings some happiness. She only wished she could be truly happy herself. Michele undulated her full asscheeks gently to the sheer pleasure mounting within her twat as Yvette's and Goldie's eager, fresh young lips worshiped the glories of her nude hips and thighs. Goldie was a most talented operator, Michele sharply realized as her tongue seemed to vibrate with an intimate gay melody of love while her lips caressed her sensitive clitoris. Yvette's mouth worked delicately in sweet accompaniment on her asshole.
Michele's glamorous buttocks wove in quicker rhythm, then a throaty sign escaped as her thighs clamped tightly around Goldie's head. Her belly did a sexy dance of its own, the muscles of her torso quivering in ecstatic abandonment as she had a most satisfying, delightful orgasm.
As the ripples of Madame's releasing bliss lessened, the two girls stole quietly from the room. Michele Duval slept.