Chapter 6
Paula Le Grande was bearing up well for a woman whose son had been kidnapped so recently, her statements to the press nonwithstanding. She was locked in an embrace with one her friends, Mrs. Hamilton Farnsworth, better known as Bob- bi. Paula had gone to school with Bobbi, and it was this very woman who introduced her to lesbian sex as a sorority sister at the Tri Ep house. She had married a wealthy industrialist, not nearly so wealthy as her own husband, and had settled in New York. While in Europe, Paula had missed Bobbi, longing for the kisses the blonde woman could tantalize her with as she lay faking it in the arms of her husband.
One of the big reasons she'd opted to return to New York was for Bobbi, although she didn't let this information out to anyone else. She'd only been able to get it on with Bobbie a couple of times during the past ten years, on quick trips to the city and that wasn't nearly enough.
But now, she was renewing her friendship, locked in a loving embrace called sixty-nine atop her furry bedspread of her king-sized bed. She had given her maid and cook the day off, leaving her to an afternoon of fun with Bobbi. The whole thing was made easier by the fact that her son had been kidnapped and couldn't come barging in unexpectedly. She could hardly preach to him about morality if he caught her eating another woman's pussy.
The whole kidnapping escapade had her worried. Her fucking father-in-law hadn't bitten. Although she had to feign a liking for him to get to her ends, she hated doing it, even by long distance. But the old asshole just hadn't bought it, and he hadn't forwarded the money to her account as the note from the kidnappers demanded. And besides that, he'd gotten the police involved somehow. Oh, that was to be expected. It had been Paula herself who'd first went to the police, but she urged them to back off in the interest of her son's safety. But she had the sneaking hunch that old Le Grande had pulled the cops in on the whole thing, though he wouldn't admit it to her over the phone. He just told her to keep in touch for the latest developments, leaving her strung out as to just when, if ever, he'd pop for the million. And the F.B.I, had come snooping around, and more newsmen. It was all too much.
On top of that, her new friend, the one who ran the art gallery was away. Her lovemaking was even better than Bobbi's, but she never let on to Bobbie that it was.
For now, Bobbi's cunt sucking was the greatest. It took her cares away from the frustrations of dealing with the press and the police, and worrying about her son. It's too bad Peter hadn't been a girl, but knowing that chauvinist of a father-in-law, he probably wouldn't have set up a trust fund so generous had his only heir been a girl. But when it came to sex, she wished more men were women.
Never once in her life had Paula had an orgasm with a man. Of course, her husband was the only man she'd ever been to bed with, but he'd been enough to convince her that the only reason they'd been there in the first place was to make Peter. And now he was giving her trouble-just like a fucking man. After Peter was born, she turned her husband away more often than not, enduring his crude lovemaking only often enough to keep him. She wanted to hold onto the money, so they kept up a front. He probably had affairs with women during his travels, she figured, and she was able to arrange a few lesbian trysts around London, but they were barely enough to compensate for her lifestyle. Aside from the smaller income, which was still generous, she was glad that Harold had crashed and burned in the airplane.
Her father, a staid New Yorker banker had been the first man to turn her against men in general. He was a stern man who frequently impressed his straightlaced ideas on her with the back of a hairbrush, even when she was sixteen. She viewed her father as a closet sadist, taking out his lust on his own daughter by baring her bottom and tossing her over his knee, then whacking her with the hairbrush until she couldn't sit down. She'd gotten onto his game by the time she was about fourteen. He was wailing away at her crimson butt with the brush, when she'd bumped against something stiff and hard that stuck up from his trousers.
She was glad for Bobbi at this moment, glad that her tongue could lick away all the problems for the time being. She spread out with her dark bobbed hair towards the headboard as her blonde friend lunched on her pussy, her own twitching pussy hanging over Paula's mouth as Bobbie straddled her face and bent over to lap away. Their large breasts mashed against each other's skin, Bobbie's huge orbs smashing down against Paula's sweating tummy; while Bobbie's thighs rubbed against the sides of her own tits.
Her mouth sought out the charms of the V- shaped pussy that hovered over her, jiggling and oozing as the other woman moved to suck out her beehive. The cunt spewed out droplets of sweet vagina juice as she ate away, the large twin spheres of ass jutting out over her.
Now she sought out the hot button of love and lolled it around in its fleshy pillow that set Bobbi to moaning, the hum of her lips sending hot currents reverberating through her own clit. She giggled devilishly and spread the bum cheeks further apart, then ran her tongue up the furrow and prodded at her friend's asshole, bringing a nice response from her for her efforts.
And then she felt a sharp stab at her own asshole, as her friend ran her sharp-nailed finger up the sputtering passageway, browning her as she continued to lap the clit. Paula tried to match the effort, gripping the woman more tightly, curling up her tongue and rimming her asshole good, a deep scent of funk permeating her nostrils. Meanwhile, Bobbi continued to ream her asshole with her finger, making her guts clench and unclench as she marched on towards her goal.
She could feel the sweat trickling down her sides and legs, only to drop on the fur of the bedspread. She worked her hips to facefuck Bobbi's unceasing mouth, wriggling up so that her friend's finger had her skewered.
She moved her own tongue back down the damply-matted hairs of Bobbi's pussy, thrusting her tongue, swordlike, in and out of the gaping hole. Then she moved her head up and through a liplock around the elusive yoni, biting it firmly between her teeth as her tongue flopped it violently about, threatening to dislodge again.
She felt her body begin to melt as the heat from her asshole and pussy began to spread, sending thrilling tingles racing through her nerveways. It was about time... but no, Bobbie had beaten her to it this time, prodded over the edge by her own mighty lips and tongue. Bobbi squealed in delight, sounding like an impaled pig, but the moans only hummed her pussy all the better. Finally wave after wave of pleasure swept over her, lifting her gently off the bed, then smashing her down on the shore.
"Mmmmm, that was good, lover," Bobbi smiled at her after a bit. "Say, I've got to be going. Ham will be home in less than an hour."
Her eyes widened as she viewed the bedside clock, and she sprang into action, her butt and tits jiggling as she retrieved her scattered clothing- they'd been at it for four hours, not to mention the hour preamble in which Bobbi felt it necessary to talk about the kidnapping. Paula had held up through it all, though she was really sick of it all... but then, Bobbie didn't know what was really going on.
Just then the phone rang, and Paula reached over to the bedside table to answer it, her eyes lazily looking at Bobbie as she pulled on her dress. Then her eyes sparked as she recognized the voice on the other end.
"I told you not to call me here," she hissed, trying to keep her voice in control so that Bobbi wouldn't hear. "Just a sec," and she covered the receiver with her other palm, screwing on her best face to try and hide her sudden anger. "Listen, Bobbi, it's been swell. Got a call, see you later."
She waved goodbye to her friend and waited until she heard the front door slam, then uncupped the phone.
"You're not supposed to call me here."
"I couldn't help it. From the news everything seemed so screwed up," came the voice from the other end.
"This could be bugged."
"Shit, you really think so?"
"I doubt it. They're not onto me, but that fucking Maddy's fucking everything up. Got the cops coming around and all that shit. He just didn't buy the kidnapping. As long as you've called me we won't wait around for the rest of the week. We'll just have to go ahead with plan B."
"Whew... you sure?"
"You've got the doctor's number... go ahead and call him, he'll know what to do. That old fart over in France isn't going to buy it unless we do it that way. He needs something really convincing. What's the matter, you losing your nerve at this stage of the game?"
"No... no," came the voice, "I just didn't think we'd have to go through with this part."
"Well, it seems to be necessary. How's Peter taking everything so far?"
"You'd be amazed. Your son's a regular masochist."
"What?" Paula was startled.
"I know, it surprised me too. But I guess he was a closet case. It just came out when I started lambasting his ass the first time."
"Well," Paula hesitated, "at least he'll be better prepared for what's in store for him next."
"Listen, I didn't really think it would have to go this far. What about the police and all?"
"We can't turn back. Besides, this is the only way the old fucker's going to come across, I'm convinced of it. Once he gets the next surprise package, he'll get the money to me in a hurry. And the beautiful part is, even if the cops are watching me, they'll never see me make a delivery. You just let Peter go a week after I give the signal. Then you get the money later-very safe. They'd never suspect me. But the best part will be when Maddy sees how well-behaved Peter will be when he gets back. Then there won't be any more talk about stopping his trust fund, you can bet on it. Okay, Julia, you've got work to do."