Chapter 5
Half asleep on the luxurious kind-size bed, the gorgeous blonde with the fabulous figure stirred restlessy. Diane Gaylord, reigning sex queen of Hollywood was beginning to come to after a rough night. Her nude, glamorous body a dream, her hair was the blondest and those tits were the sexiest. Hundreds upon hundreds of horny young men went to bed craving her and jerking off every night after seeing one of her movies.
But the soldiers who cheered her wildly in U.S.O. appearances never knew that the many handsome officers on the make for Diane left her cold. She was far more interested in the troupe's dancing girls. They'd never believe that her "love" affairs with handsome leading men were just so much publicity. No matter how virile looking her male escorts looked, they were invariably gay. Diane found them less troublesome that way. Attractive extra girls or starlets on the studio lot gave her the frigging kicks she was looking for-like now....
Golden hair, long and silky, spread in fanwise dishevelment and a few locks tumbled across the beautiful breasts that were known to every moviegoer in the land. Suddenly there was no longer relaxation in her magnificent body. Each breath made her bosom rise and fall in a kind of ever-mounting strange kind of sensual expectancy.
But perhaps it wasn't so strange.
She was being touched, delightfully touched, and for a moment she just gave herself up the the pleasant sensation. She didn't even care who was doing it to her.
But she had to care. The touch was getting much too close to her pussy to ignore its donor. Not that she was offended in any way; as long as the touch was soft and dainty it was all right with her. It came from a woman-or a young girl, perhaps, and that was all that mattered. As much of a sex-idol as Diane Gaylord might be on the silver screen, here in the privacy of her own room she dealt only in a less popular brand of sex. The great American public didn't know-or only vaguely suspected-that her preference was for lesbian caresses.
The kind she was getting now, hot lips working on her cunny....
But from whom? Sure, she could have opened her eyes right away and found out. But it was more fun this way. Guessing made the whole thing more spicy.
One thing was certain and she was glad of it. This was her own room. Her own bed. The softness of the mattress and the smoothness of the sheets told her that much. So at least she wasn't in some unknown house, thank heaven.
True, it might be her maid. Lilly often took the privilage of waking her mistress up like this. But somehow it just didn't feel like Lilly. The warm mouth seemed like liquid velvet as it tongued her clitoris.
Lilly"! Of course not. It couldn't be. Diane gave her memory a small spur and recalled that she had fired her maid only yesterday. Lilly had been too demanding for a servant. That was the way it so often happened-a girl got good in her work and then went beyond her regular duties. And Lilly-stupid shit!-had even been insisting about getting some relative or other a break in the film business.
What was the matter with servants these days? Didn't they know their place? Couldn't they accept and keep a job without looking upon it as a stepping-stone to fame and fortune and stardom in the motion-picture world?
Okay, so Lilly was gone. Good riddance. Then who was doing all that crazy kissing down on her cuntlips?
In a slowly deliberate movement, Diane rolled away almost to the edge of the bed. The cunt-lapping pursued her, warm and liquid and persistent. Again she moved, but it stayed with her and she realized that no amount of evasive action was going to shake it loose from her cunt.
That tongue. Mmmm....
Vaguely she remembered getting drunk the night before, good and stinking drunk in celebration of the finish of her picture. Obviously she had picked up someone at the studio party. But who it was she couldn't think of.
It was a girl, of course-it always was. But aside from that bit of information there were no clues. And it was fun to keep her eyes closed like this and lie here and enjoy having her vagina sucked and make a little guessing game out of it.
In a way, really, she was almost scared to look. In the past, some of her alcoholic binges had resulted in the sharing of her bed with some rather horrible creatures. Better to preserve the illusion, she figured someone was with her, and that someone was giving a performance on her cunt that was highly skilled in all its technical aspects. So why question it?
Relax and enjoy it, that was the thing to do. It would be disastrous if she were to open her eyes and find out that her boudoir companion was a monster with two heads or something like that. The thought was revolting.
Two heads? Well, no, that wouldn't be so bad. Being frigged by someone with two heads wouldn't have been such a major disaster. As a matter-of-fact, such a weird thing would probably be twice as interesting.
But it wasn't important. Not now. Nothing was important right at this instant. Nothing but this.
The feeling-ah, yes, the wonderful feeling. The hot flutter of that untiring tongue on her erect clitoris was getting to her. Getting to her good. It was stabbing, kind of, and was quite different from any that she had previously experienced. This was a new one, all right. Flutter ... stab towards her cunt-hole ... flutter-how nice!
Diane quivered and had to struggle to hold herself in check. Usually, in these intense moments at the peak of passion, she liked to tighten her thighs and crush. Even roll over. There was a special thrill in jamming her aroused and craving twat hard against the beseeching, open-mouthed face that became only an instrument of pleasure for her. She enjoyed the heady intoxication of subjugating her cunt-lapping lovers.
But this was different. Not better, perhaps, but different. There was patient skill in the stab and flutter routine. If she closed her legs this time she might lose the full benefit of that dexterous caressing of her twat.
That tongue. That remarkable tongue. Amazing. But now there was nothing but passion-no thinking, no guessing, no wonder about who and how and what there was room in her only for the hot blaze of unthinking, uncaring sensation.
"Now," she muttered. "Now!"
The tongue went on. Stab-flutter-stab-flutter-and at last it came, the big orgasm and she gasped for breath and shrieked her joy and then, obeying that impulse she always got, rolled over and crushed her weight down upon the cunt-juice covered face that had only one purpose as far as she was concerned. The purpose of giving pleasure to Diane Gaylord.
A moment later it was over. And the creature, as it turned out, wasn't a two-headed monster. Her name was Kathy and she was rather nice in an exuberandy youthful manner.
"Some alarm clock," Diane murmured.
"I guess I was." The girl's admiring eyes ran up and down Diane's body. "Although I wasn't thinking of it that way. I woke up and saw all those lovely goodies and couldn't pass them up. You didn't mind, did you?"
"It was fine, honey. Being awakened by an expert cunt-lapping like this will make my whole day easier."
"Oh, do you have something you must do today? I thought you were going to relax, now that the picture is finished. I'd love to spend hours with you."
Diane shrugged. It was the same old story. She remembered now that Kathy was a bit-player looking for a boost upward. Just like all the rest. And if they got any more involved than this, the girl would soon be asking her for favors. No, a one-night stand was far more simple.
"I'm afraid we can't, Kathy. It was fun, but the new day always brings new-"
"Please?" The girl's supply of energy was apparently inexhaustible; she seemed eager to resume her frigging activity. "Can't we just be together for a while longer?"
"Afraid not, sweetie." Diane removed the hand that was gliding across her skin.
"But why? The picture is finished and you don't have to go to the studio. You told me that last night. When you decided not to go to that island, well, I thought we would-"
"Island? Did I tell you that too?"
"Sure, you did. About some island in the Caribbean that you were invited to. You were supposed to go, but you really didn't want to. Remember?"
Diane nodded. "Uh-huh. I must have been drunk to talk so much. Know something, honey? I've just changed my mind about taking that trip. It will do me good to get away for a couple of weeks. All this Hollywood atmosphere is too boozy. Maybe a little primitive living will straighten me out"
"You-you're really going?"
"Uh-huh."
"But do you have to get up right now?" Again the girl's hand reached out in anxious caress.
"Right now. In fact, I'd better dress and-"
"Not yet. Please?"
Diane was getting bored by the situation. They had met and frigged and now it was ended. Couldn't these movie-struck kids understand? Did an affair have to be prolonged?
"Kathy, I'm getting up to get dressed. I do wish that you would do the same."
"Oh...." The girl pouted sulkily. "All right. If that's the way you feel. ... "
"Don't be angry."
"How can I help it?" Kathy rose from the bed. "I wouldn't stay now even if you asked me to."
"You wouldn't?" Diane chuckled and wriggled her twat provocatively, tossing her legs apart in abandon. "Are you sure of that, sweetie?"
The girl caught her breath. "Okay, you win. I'd do anything for you. But you're only teasing, I suppose."
"Uh-huh."
"But-but when you come back from that island, will you let me see you again. Please?" The girl's attitude had lapsed into complete subservience.
"Why not? Yes, it might be a nice idea to have you waiting for me when I get back. But no more of that now.
I've got too much to do."
Kathy took the hint. In a matter of minutes she had her clothing on. As she approached the bed, Diane turned her face slightly and let the farewell kiss land on her cheek. Then she watched the girl leave.
With a small sigh, Diane stretched and lit a cigarette. All in all, she was rather pleased with her conquest It might be fun to have Kathy around when she returned from St. Lazure. Although it didn't make much difference one way or the other, actually. There was always someone around to take care of her needs-and if not, it was never very difficult to locate someone.
For that matter, finding somebody new and untried was always more intriguing. She seldom resorted to calling in her old flames. Sex was fun-and necessary, of course-but there was a far greater joy in the conquest that led to it. Forcing her girls into submission that was the big thrill.
But Diane Gaylord had been going at her strange pastimes too hot and heavy. She really wanted a rest, to get away from her studios' high-pressure demands, and the whole movie business. The artificial living, the phonies who tried to cash in on her fame and body had her down. She was smart enough to know that a lot of the lovely young girls who gave their bodies to her so eagerly were false. Somehow the shining star of Diane Gaylord would give their careers the boost they couldn't get on acting ability. She was quite cynical and cold about them, as with Kathy.
But somewhere within her there was always the hope that she'd meet a lover who wanted her for herself alone.
Someone who had never even seen Diane Gaylord on a screen.
She'd heard rumors about a Madame Michele and her Club Gala on the island of St. Lazure. It was part of the reason she wanted to vacation there. Michele Duval was supposed to be able to satisfy any taste in hump-maybe even hers....