Chapter 6
Paula Jardine had finally arrived at the Villa Jolie on the fabled island of St. Lazure. As she gazed about her, she was enchanted by the exotic tropical gardens and grounds which surrounded the impressively luxurious pink main house of this paradise. Gaily feathered birds fluttered and chattered in the bright green foliage blooming with unusually colored flowers. After five minutes, she fell in love with the place and congratulated herself on her luck.
She had bought the place sight unseen, from color prevue photos from a real estate firm in New York. Her spur of the moment decision had turned out to be just the thing she wanted, which was unusual. The long drive south and the boat trip from the mainland had left her exhausted, and Paula went to bed early.
The long rest had worked wonders and she felt refreshed again. A good thing, too, since she never would have been up to entertaining visitors if the headache had hung on. And that was exactly what she was stuck with-visitors. A couple named Brenda Kenyon and Burt Nestler.
It was enough to bring on another headache. Having guests drop in on you so unexpectedly was certainly irksome. But it was obvious that they were here to welcome her to the island. Or at least the woman was. In scarcely fifteen minutes of conversation Paula learned that Brenda considered herself the queen bee of high society on St. Lazure. And that it would make good sense for an outsider like Paula Jardine to accept and be grateful for the generous offer of friendship from such an important insider like Brenda Kenyon. At least that was the impression that Brenda tried so hard to give.
Oh, it had been a bit more subtle than that, of course. The plump woman had brought over some covered dishes of native food-"In case your kitchen isn't operating yet" and she had done her best to be affable in her rather ponderous manner. But Paula wasn't fooled. It was apparent that social-minded Brenda wanted her as a supporter rather than as a rival.
It rubbed her the wrong way. If the woman hadn't been so pushy about it, Paula might have shrugged the whole business off. But she detected a note of challenge in Brenda's attitude, and that was enough to give the affair more significance than it actually deserved. Was the fat slob looking for a fight? If so, there was a good chance she would get one.
But Paula wasn't terribly interested, one way or the other. She had too much on her mind to get involved now with any such foolishness. After all, she hadn't even gotten settled yet. And more important, she had her two companions to think about and she hadn't quite figured out how they would fit in.
At the moment, they were fitting in nicely. With an abundance of girlish laughter, both Nikki and Pat were out on the veranda listening to young Burt Nestler's naughty stories. Both kids looked fresh and pretty and sweet and no one would take them for what they were.
Paula smiled inwardly. What a lark it would be to pass the pair off as society girls. A hired hooker and a--well, she wasn't sure what Pat Mills was, but she sure meant to find out. It wouldn't be difficult to have an investigation made. Yes, she would have a man pick up the threads at Longwood and learn why a teen-aged kid in frayed clothing had been so eager to get picked up that she hadn't even cared about their destination. There was something peculiar about the girl.
Anyway, the afternoon sun was getting hot and Paula wished that Brenda would leave so that she might take a swim. There was another reason to. Sleeping alone last night had left her feeling a bit horny. Each time she heard those giggling voices it gave her a little tingle. Nikki, of course, was no longer a novelty, but Pat was still untested material and Paula was looking forward to doing something about it.
Leaning backward slightly, she could see the youngster through the window. While Brenda talked and talked, Paula enjoyed the pleasant sight. Pat was such a cute little thing, really, even though there was a touch of hardness about her. With her fluffy brown hair and soft brown eyes, the kid was a natural charmer. That still-developing body of hers was beautiful. No doubt about it. Pat Mills-if that was truly her name-was going to make St. Lazure even more enjoyable.
But she'd better not peep any more, Paula realized-Brenda was noticing her distraction. What was the woman saying? Something about a movie star? Diane Gaylord?
"Oh, yes, I just heard from Diane and shell be here soon. So I'll be giving a big party for her, Paula, and I'm sure you and your friends will want to come."
"Of course. She's very famous. Yes, thank you, well be happy to accept your invitation."
Paula's annoyance deepened. Okay, so Diane Gaylord was a fine catch for any hostess. But did Brenda have to be so smug about it? The woman sounded as if she practically owned the island and everything on it.
"Diane is great fun," Brenda went on. "Kind of wild, if you know what I mean. I'm sure shell insist on going to Michele Duval's place."
Paula gasped. "Whose place?"
"Oh, don't you know about it? There's a nightclub-although it's more of a callhouse, actually-run by a woman named Duval. Michele Duval. They say some of the goings-on there are simply scandalous."
"Uh this Michele. What does she look like."
"Small and dark. Puts on a Continental air. Rather pretty, really, if you like that type."
Paula's heart turned over. Michele. Michele was on the island. The one woman in all the world who could inspire fear in her. The woman who had made her crawl.
For years Paula had tried to erase the memory of that one night when they had met and loved. The only time in her life when she had been subjugated. The only time when she had danced to another woman's tune. But the memory of it the shame and degradation-had never gone away.
And now Michele was here!
Paula shuddered. True, she was older and wiser now and far more experienced than she had been in those days. Michele's sophisticated style had practically bowled her over-but they had been unfairly matched. A budding play girl against an old campaigner-and it was no wonder that Michele had been the victor.
If they clashed now it would be on a more even footing.
Just the same, though, the very sound of Michele's name had sent a chill through her. And yet there was fascination in what she was feeling. Fascination-much as she hated to admit it. The kind of fascination that a little bird feels for the beady-eyed snake that hypnotized before it attacks.
Abruptly, almost rudely, Paula stood up in an obvious gesture of dismissal. She was impatient for Brenda to leave. The garrulous old biddy was a bore. Outside, the sun was shining on the blue water and the silver-sanded beach-and Paula needed its warmth and comfort and reality. She needed something to dispel the dark chill of Michele from her heart.
Brenda finally got the message. With effusive farewells she latched onto her young lover and left. Immediately Paula called the girls and led them up to her room.
"Swim time, kiddies," she said. "I've got a whole batch of brand new bikinis. Let's go."
Dutifully, they trailed after her. Paula knew there would be no objections to her offer of swimsuits. Pat's wardrobe was non-existent and she was being outfitted as they went along. Nikki was being paid-well paid-to comply with every wish and whim of her employer.
"Look...." Paula got out the pile of garments. "Try them on right here. This three-angled mirror is great."
They started undressing. Now, for the first time, they were together in privacy. The atmosphere was laden with horny desire. The beach could wait, Paula decided. Here with these two lovely female bodies she would forget Michele.
But she became aware that Pat was being somewhat skittish. Bold and brazen as the kid had been on the road, she was now showing childish reluctance. It was apparent that Pat Mills was still a bashful teen-ager, basically, who would need a bit of prodding to make her shed her shyness.
Paula found the notion delicious. The youngster was almost cringing in an effort to hide her pink-peaked breasts. It was practically a contortion as she dropped her clothes and snatched at the two pices of her chosen bikini.
"Don't be bashful," Paula murmured.
"I-I'm sorry. It's all so new to me. But I'll try to be what you want, Paula. You're the boss. And I'm grateful for all you're doing for me." Pat dropped her arms, baring herself.
Naked and sensuous, Paula faced the girl and moved close. Until their breasts touched. The points turned firm. Paula kept up a swaying motion that made the sensitive spots rub and grate and chafe. It became starkly evident that Pat's timorous attitude wasn't preventing her nipples from becoming aroused.
Paula gestured. "The mirror. See?"
"Oh...."
"Isn't it beautiful?"
"Uh-huh. Oooooh, my titties feel so funny."
"But nice?"
"Uh...."
Their breasts mashed. Pat's body trembled violently. With deliberate intent, Paula avoided any other kind of touch. Her hands hung at her sides. She licked her lips to a glistening sheen, but didn't seek a kiss. Between their naked bodies only their tits made contact. Their faces, almost cheek to cheek, were turned toward the mirror.
Then, in a sudden motion, Paula seized the girl and captured her lips. Mouth jammed upon mouth. Her tongue shot out, probing forcefully, ending at last in the yielding softness that opened to receive it.
Now Paula was certain that Pat was ready. The kid was hot. Behind them, visible in the mirror, Nikki was waiting for invitation. Even in the midst of the deep kiss, Paula could see Nikki's green eyes and felt a surge of yearning to bring the dark-haired hooker into the embrace.
For one painfully intense moment, Paula recalled the black flashing eyes of Michele. Then in a struggle to get the woman out of her mind-Paula went wild. As the kiss ended she reached back and pulled Nikki in close.
Now she had them both. Naked. Standing in front of the mirror that multiplied the exciting images. Utterly devoid of reserve, she bent her head and glided from one to the other. Kissing, kissing and mouthing the naked breasts that seemed to jut out to ask for more. Nikki's breasts. Pat's breasts. Back and forth. Back and forth. As if there was no way that her lips could get enough of the smooth titties and their stiffly erect nipples.
From somewhere she heard laughter, sharp, strident, real. Derisive laughter. And yet she knew that she must be imagining it. Michele had laughed like that. Michele was laughing at her now. Michele was No!
It was unbearable. She couldn't go on thinking like this. She was Paula Jardine, proud, rich, naughty, and she called the tune for others to dance to. As she was doing now. Calling the tune for these two girls. And she wouldn't let the shadow of Michele darken her pleasure.
"Come. Both of you." Paula pulled them to the bed. "Make love to me. Make me happy."
Then they were writhing and squirming and Paula could feel hands upon her .Her belly, her buttocks. Fingers. Then lips and tongues, and she knew that Pat had at last entered into the spirit of the occasion. The full spirit. The little rascal was positively devastating as her lips worked their way towards Paula's cunt.
Nikki, of course, was playing her part as she had been paid to do. Not with the same amount of abandon, actually, but with a patient skill that was adequate compensation for her lack of wantonness.
Paula moaned.
The sound spurred the girls to greater activity. Her body arched as the moan became a keening wail. The tongues that besieged her cunt seemed to be demonstrating an entirely new version of the perpetual-motion principle. Ah yes, how she loved what they were doing to her. How she loved the adoration, the worship, the sense of knowing that all of this was designed for her pleasure and hers alone.
Glancing down, Paula's excited gaze saw that it was Nikki's lissome body before her, kneeling docilely with her dark blonde head busily doing homage to her moist cunt lips. Paula's shapely thighs quivered and squirmed as Nikki's head bobbed in a relentless pleasure rhythm as her tongue went to her clitoris.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Pat's pert dark head in the mirror-so that was what that thrilling sensation at her asshole was! Nikki's wonderful lips zeroed in on her womanhood's extra-sensitive clitoris with nibbling delight, and Paula's voluptuous torso flamed as fiery peak Miss burned through her, and she literally came like a house on fire.