Chapter 9
"I'd like to go to Boston," said Maureen as she and her aunt finished their late breakfast.
Sylvia looked up. She was still gray and shaken from the punishment received from Maureen. But she was more in control of herself now.
"Whatever for, Maureen?"
"Clothes," said Maureen briefly, "I need some clothes."
"But I got you some clothes just the other day."
"Those don't suit me. I want you to buy me something fashionable."
Sylvia flushed. "It's quite a long drive to Boston."
"We can take the train. Blake can drive us to the station, then meet us when we return."
Sylvia swallowed. "Very well dear." She glanced at her watch. "There's a train leaving at noon."
Maureen pushed back her chair. "We'll get it." Then she swept out of the room and up to her aunt's suite without another word.
Jennie was in the corridor. "Maureen, are you all right? Did anything happen last night?"
Maureen laughed. "To me?" She laughed again. "Yes, something sure happened to me last night." She opened the door to the suite, then turned to add: "And something happened to my dear aunt this morning."
Jennie stared at her, then followed her into the suite. "You-you mean you did something to your aunt?" Her voice was incredulous.
Maureen picked up the cane and swished it through the air. "With this, Jennie dear." The maid shrank back. There was shock all over her face. "Maureen, how could you? Why, you're nearly as bad as her!"
Maureen laughed again, the pulled the girl close to her and kissed her. "I'm worse," she whispered when she finally drew her mouth away, "much worse!"
Jennie giggled, breathlessly. "Oh no you're not. I didn't mean that." She moved to Maureen again and held up her face to be kissed. Maureen smiled, pressing her lips against the maid's, letting her tongue dart inside Jennie's mouth. Then she drew back.
"Later, Jennie dear, sometime later. I've got to catch a train. We're going to Boston to buy some clothes."
Jennie frowned at Maureen. "Maureen, you're different today. I mean, you don't seem like you did the other night when we were-"
"Don't worry about it, Jennie." Maureen's voice was brisk. "It's just that I'm finding out things that I should have known long ago." Her voice softened. "We'll be together again, and soon."
The maid's face brightened.
"Now help me get ready for the train."
Eagerly Jennie reached forward and started to unfasten the satin and silk robe.
A low sound of surprised pleasure hissed from her lips when she saw Maureen's nude flesh under the robe.
Maureen smiled in return, then glanced at her reflection in the huge wardrobe mirror. Her body looked riper, more developed than it had seemed the day before. "Jennie, is my figure all right?"
Jennie looked surprised. "Why yes, Maureen, it's beautiful!"
Maureen gave a sight of relief.
"But you're different."
"In what way?"
A smile fringed Jennie's lips. "You're beautiful, like a woman is." Her voice quavered down. "You make me want to kiss you."
A smile crossed Maureen's face. "Then kiss me," she said simply, pursing her lips.
Jennie breathed deeply, moving close to Maureen. She lifted herself on tip-toe and pressed her mouth against Maureen's.
"Oh, Maureen," she sighed when she drew back, "kissin' you does somethin' to me!"
Maureen hugged her affectionately, then patted her rounded bottom. "It does somethin' to me, too, Jennie doll. An' I'd like to do somethin' to you," she giggled, sounding more like the old Maureen. "But we haven't got time, so help me get ready.
"Oh, yes." The maid scurried to the large dressing-table in the bedroom and returned with a large bottle in her hand. "I'll spread this all over you, Maureen."
"What is it?"
"It's from Paris." Jennie made her eyes round. "So very, very expensive. It's for the skin, a freshener. Makes you smell nice an' sweet, too."
Maureen looked at the label, making a low sound. "It oughta be good. This stuff costs a small fortune to buy!"
Jennie poured some lotion onto her hand and spread the scented solution on Maureen's warm flesh.
"Uuum," murmured Maureen, "that feels good. All over me, Jennie."
"Oh, yes. Over every little part!"
She spread the rich lotion on Maureen's shoulders and back, then reached under her armpits and gently creamed her sides. Her fingers returned to the glistening skin, sliding forward as she reached for Maureen's full, rounded breasts to put a sheen of fragrant moisturizer on the tender flesh.
"Don't forget my tits," Maureen whispered. "My nipples feel so hot, can't you cool them?"
Jennie choked back her excitement and took a nipple in each hand and squeezed.
"Like that?" she asked.
"Uuum," drooled Maureen, "only more so."
Jennie squeezed again, harder this time, and Maureen half-closed her eyes, swaying back on her heels. "You must do this to me every day," she murmured.
"Yes," breathed Jennie, "an' I'll cream you down here, too." Her hands moved to Maureen's buttocks and she massaged them, gently but deeply, smearing the cream on the soft flesh, then firmly kneading it in.
"That's good, too," whispered Maureen.
Jennie dropped onto her knees behind Maureen. She squeezed and kneaded the rosy cheeks of the young bottom with both hands. Suddenly, she reached forward with her lips and kissed Maureen on the cleft of her bottom. "I'd do anything for you, Maureen," she whispered, "anything!"
Maureen half-turned her head and glanced over her shoulder at the dark head of the maid crouched behind her.
"I really believe you would."
"Oh, I would." Jennie's voice was breathless with devotion.
"Uuum," Maureen groaned again. "Move round in front of me, Jennie. Put some cream on my legs an' thighs an'-"
Almost losing her balance in her eagerness, Jennie scrambled around her mistress on her knees, then poured an ample amount of lotion onto her hand and smeared it on the front of Maureen's thighs.
The sudden coolness of the fresh lotion made Maureen gasp; then she spread her legs apart, moving her feet and making her thighs open wide.
"Stay down there, Jennie," she muttered, "but reach up with your lips and suck my pussy!"
Jennie squirmed underneath the open thighs. She rolled her eyes upward until she was looking into the red, wet and open maw of Maureen's vulva.
"Yes," she whispered, opening her mouth and letting her tongue snake out.
Maureen bent her knees, letting her buttocks, thighs and crotch drop lower. She could feel Jennie's lips flattening against the soft lips of her pussy. She squirmed about, pressing the wet tissue more firmly on the maid's mouth.
"Suck, Jennie, suck!" she hissed, urgently.
Each time the girl drew in breath, Maureen heard the sexy, squelching sound. She could feel moistness trickling down the insides of her thighs, her vaginal fluid flowing warmly over her skin.
She wriggled her buttocks, bending her knees more, pressing down more firmly. Jennie gagged as the pussy spread open on her mouth. She sucked frantically, tonguing and licking with every energy.
"Uuum, Jennie, you're making me-" Maureen drew in a panting breath, "makin' me-" She moved her pelvis about with jerky, urgent motions. "My clit-" she moaned, "grip my clit with your lips an' bite it-"
Her mouth was saturated with the thick, warm fluid flowing from Maureen's vagina. But Jennie searched for the tensile tip, found it and gripped it with her teeth.
Maureen gave a moan of ecstasy.
Jennie titillated the clitoris with her tongue, holding the thin stem between her teeth.
"Oh, like that, like that!" moaned Maureen, twisting her newly aroused flesh. "I'm gonna-gonna come, Jennie!"
She shrieked out the last words then her body dropped downward, forcing Jennie to fall onto her back, her mouth still glued to Maureen's twitching, jerking and orgasming pussy.
The voice from the doorway was low, filled with malice.
"Am I disturbing you?"
Maureen dragged open her yes, saw the blurred outline of her Aunt Sylvia standing by the open door.
There was a choked sound from Jennie's buried mouth.
"It's all right, Jennie," said Maureen soothingly, "just go on suckin'." She coldly met her aunt's eyes. "Get out, Sylvia!"
The older woman seemed to tremble with rage; then her face turned a dirty white and she wheeled around and moved out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
A new muffled sound came from Jennie.
"Just go on suckin'," said Maureen, "there's nothing to worry about." She reached under herself and stroked the maid's face. "I'll tell you when to stop." Her eyes glazed over as the excitement of another come seeped through her flesh.
Sylvia sat opposite Maureen as the train took them to Boston, thinking of the metamorphosis. From a quiet, submissive girl, Maureen had changed into a confident, aggressive woman. And it was her doing. If she hadn't been so hasty, so demanding, this change might never have happened!
She wriggled about on the padded seat. She was still sore on her buttocks and inside her anus.
Maureen noticed the movement. She leaned forward to speak in a whisper. "Sore, Sylvia dear?" her face was laughing.
Sylvia flushed, said nothing.
"Want the same again tonight?" asked Maureen, softly.
"No!"
Maureen leaned back in her seat, a smirk on her face. "Then you'll buy me the clothes I want?"
"Of course. But it's not just because-" She didn't finish the sentence, but instead looked out the window. She could hear Maureen's soft laugh.
Boston was much quieter than New York, Maureen decided, as they took a taxi from the station to the shopping district. But she liked what she saw. It was a big improvement over the small towns near Blythe House. She ought to be able to find something here that she liked.
Sylvia stopped the taxi outside one of the biggest department stores in Boston.
"You should find the kind of clothes you want in here," she said to Maureen, keeping the sarcasm out of her voice with an effort.
Maureen scanned the information board inside the main entrance, then led the way to the elevators.
"We'll go to the tenth floor," she told her aunt, "there's a boutique there."
Sylvia only nodded.
They entered the shop together.
The clothes were the kind she wanted, Maureen decided, and the price tags were higher than she'd ever paid in New York. But that didn't matter here. She had Sylvia to take care of the money part.
"How d'you like it?" Maureen asked.
She was wearing the shortest mini-skirt that Sylvia had ever seen. It was scarcely long enough to reach the tops of the long, sheer, fully fashioned hose that Maureen was wearing. Every time she moved, there was a flash of white thigh at the top.
She was a tempting young morsel, Sylvia thought. "It's very nice, Maureen. It shows off your legs to good advantage."
Maureen smiled at her aunt.
"You're not wearing pantyhose, I see," went on Sylvia.
Maureen laughed. "Yes, I like these. I like to feel a cool breeze on my thighs." She lifted the hem of the tiny skirt, baring the briefest bridge of thigh-flesh between the tops of her stockings and the shear nylon briefs that she was wearing.
Sylvia caught her breath. She could see the dark thatch of pubic hair through the thin material. It brought back memories, such recent memories, and new desire.
They were in a small dressing-room at the back of the boutique. Maureen had called her aunt in to show her the skirt she'd selected.
Sylvia's eyes went up. The blouse was transparent, too. The pink tips of Maureen's breasts were clearly visible.
"That blouse," she said, "you'll have to get a coat to wear over it."
Maureen unbuttoned the blouse very slowly, keeping her eyes on her aunt's face all the time. When it was completely unbuttoned, she reached inside, took one of her breasts between a finger and thumb, squeezed it, and pointed it at her aunt.
"You mean because you can see my breasts-my nipples." She squeezed her breast harder, making the nipple protrude and stiffen.
Sylvia passed her tongue over dry lips, then took a step forward. Her eyes were glued on the tensing, enticing nipple.
"Don't stay mad at me, Maureen," she whispered. Her hand reached up, touched the tensed nipple very gently. "Don't stay mad," she repeated, caressing her niece's breast with a trembling hand.
Maureen stood very still, breasts thrust forward, legs apart. "Why should I be mad at you, Sylvia? You're buying me all these nice clothes."
Sylvia's free hand had dropped down; now it crept under the tiny skirt and stroked soft thigh-flesh. She was squeezing Maureen's nipple now as she said, "I'll buy you the clothes you want, dear," her voice was uneven, tremulous, "just be nice with me, just don't be mad."
"I'll need a new coat," said Maureen, watching her aunt's face.
"All right, I'll buy you one-"
"A shortie coat," said Maureen, "just long enough to reach the hem of this skirt."
"Whatever kind you like," whispered Sylvia, squeezing a soft breast and stroking smooth thigh-flesh, "I'll buy it for you."
Maureen was silent for a long minute, then she said, "I think we're going to get along all right, Sylvia." Her eyes were still on her aunt's face and she saw the naked desire there, "I think we'll get along real well!"
After dropping Maureen and Sylvia off at the station, Ken Blake drove back to Blythe House, slid out of the driver's seat, then loosened his pants at the crotch. His penis had recovered now: in fact he found it had hardened, thinking of Maureen and the tempting view he had glimpsed under her wind-blown skirt.
He'd like to get his cock into that sexy pussy again! Sylvia's cane on his penis seemed to have made it more vulnerable, more easily aroused. He'd never felt more lustful than he did at this minute.
He stamped into the house, keeping his hand in his pocket to hold his erection down. And she was in Boston with her aunt. He climbed the stairs to his room, feeling edgy, worked up, sexed-up and excited.
He was about to open the door to his room when a thought struck him. Maureen was out of his reach, but there was someone else. Jennie. Curvy little Jennie was available. He glanced at his watch: she was probably in her room, taking a nap now that her mistress was away.
Ken went to his bedroom, stripped off his tunic and put on a light shirt. He went to the cupboard in the corner and took out a bottle of gin, Jennie's weakness.
Carefully he poured equal amounts into two glasses, added a small amount of tonic water, then opened a drawer, took out a small phial of capsules and dropped one into a glass. It dissolved instantly; Ken smiled in anticipation.
He groped at his crotch again, tried to ease his swollen penis to one side to curb his erection, then he opened his door and moved quickly toward Jennie's room.
She was relaxing on her bed when she heard the light tap at her door. "Who is it?"
"Ken. I've got a gin for you."
She rolled off the bed, unlocked her bedroom door to let him in with the two glasses.
"They're out, aren't they?" she said, meaning Sylvia and Maureen.
"Yes," he answered, putting one glass on the table beside Jennie's bed and keeping the other glass in his hand. "They've gone to Boston."
"I know," said Jennie, picking up her glass. "Maureen told me."
She sipped at her drink. "How'd you know I wanted a drink?" She smiled at him over the rim of her glass.
He smiled back. "You always want a gin!"
She drained her glass then waved toward the door. "Thanks, Ken, thanks a lot. But you'd better go now."
"Why?"
She giggled. "Gin always makes me drowsy, an' I don't want to pass out in front of you."
"Why not?" He smiled at her.
She flushed. "You might take advantage of me."
"Okay," he said agreeably, "I'll go."
She went with him to the door and smiled at him before closing it. "You're nice, Ken. Thanks a lot." Then she shut the door and locked it.
Ken stood outside staring at the end of the key that protruded from the door after she locked it.
He smiled. It would take more than that to keep him away from her.
He went back to his room and sat on the edge of his bed and smoked a cigarette, trying to ignore the demands of his swelling penis. As soon as his cigarette was finished, he took a pair of pliers from his dresser and left with them in his pocket.
Outside Jennie's room, he paused for a moment, listened. Only a gentle, rhythmic breathing came from within. He smiled, then grasped the protruding end of the key with his pliers and turned. The lock clicked open easily; Ken turned the doorknob and entered. Jennie had passed out on the bed, her skirt awry, revealing silk-shod legs, white thighs and her hand pressed over her pelvis.
Ken turned and locked the door behind him.
Jennie stirred in her sleep; Ken walked over to her, felt the smoothness of her thighs, then gently removed her hand from her pelvis and lifted her body so that he could ease down the brief, black panties she wore.
He stared at her body again, then dragged up her skirt so that he could see the whiteness of her belly and the ripples that crossed it each time she breathed. His eyes went lower, and he gazed at her pubic hair, then reached to the front of his pants and unfastened them, freeing his penis.
He stroked her soft, dark foliage very gently, then moved his hand between her thighs. He squeezed his fingers upward until he felt the moistness of young vaginal lips. He took his hand away for a moment, gently parted her legs, then sat on the edge of the bed, lowered his head and stared up into Jennie's tight vulva. It was red and wet and slightly open and he poked a finger inside. The vaginal walls were soft and warm and seemed to hug his finger as he moved it in sensuous circles.
His penis jerked. He climbed onto the bed, knelt between her outstretched legs, his cock a huge, swollen mass of lust.
He lowered himself very slowly, very carefully between her legs. He could feel the soft smoothness of her thighs touching his swollen shaft. He reached under himself to guide himself into her slot. Jennie didn't awaken.
Ken closed his eyes at the delicious sensation. These were the moments he lived for! He pushed upward and higher until the small girl's body jerked. He knew he'd reached the end of her cavern; he began to glide his shaft in and out with smooth, ecstatic movements. Her vaginal walls, so wetly warm, hugged his swollen organ, increasing the pleasure, making his delight almost unbearable. He opened the top of her blouse, slid a hand inside her small bra and caressed a tiny nipple, squeezed it very gently.
His movements inside her became more frenzied. He screwed his cock in to the limit. No matter what he did, she'd sleep on. The thought brought on a premature orgasm. He'd wanted to prolong his delightful exercise for as long as possible. But his thoughts, as well as the soft, wet pussy that gripped his cock so tightly, made his penis lurch, expand, then contract and he felt the hot juice spurt from its slitted tip. He orgasmed, groaned and orgasmed again.
Finished, his body went limp; he lay like a log on top of Jennie. At last, he roused himself and rolled his body off her in a tired, heavy movement.
His legs felt shaky when he stood beside the bed. He picked up the small black panties from where he'd dropped them on the floor, then raised each small foot in turn, and put the panties on Jennie's legs. He half-lifted her body, groaning with the effort, and dragged the panties up. Jennie's vulva was still open, and a trickle of white fluid dribbled out. Ken sighed and took out his handkerchief. He wiped some of his lust-juice away, then probed inside the open vagina with his handkerchief, trying to soak up more fluid. Done, he dragged the panties over Jennie's small hips. He reached up to push a small breast back into its bra and buttoned up the blouse.
He sighed again, glanced down at his cock's limpness and refastened his pants.
After a last, lingering look at the sleeping girl on the bed, Ken left the room. Outside, he used his pliers to relock the door and moved sluggishly away.
He glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time before Sylvia and Maureen returned, time enough for a short rest. He went to his room and to bed.
They leaned back in their seats as the taxi carried them to the station. Maureen was huddled in a corner, deep in her own thoughts: Sylvia slid across the seat until her hips were touching those of her niece.
"You look nice in these clothes, Maureen," she said in a whisper, "but the way men look at you.
It's horrible!"
Maureen lifted her head and glanced at her aunt's set expression. She spoke very softly, keeping her voice low so that the driver couldn't hear. "They look at me as though they'd like to screw me, don't they, Sylvia?" There was a glitter in the girl's eye.
"Yes," panted Sylvia, "it's horrible-"
"They'd like to push their cocks into my wet pussy, wouldn't they, Sylvia? They'd like to fuck me!"
"Don't talk that way!" hissed Sylvia. "It's awful. That's why I wanted you to wear sensible clothes."
Maureen looked at her aunt. "Maybe I like them to look at me that way. Maybe I like them to think that I'm an attractive girl, a sexy girl, a very fuckable girl."
"Stop it!" Sylvia raised her voice, then all the spirit seemed to seep out of her. "I-I thought you-you liked it with another girl-a woman," she whispered.
Maureen nodded her head slowly. "I do, but," she paused, "I like it with men, too." She looked up. "Haven't you ever wanted a man?"
"No!" Sylvia snapped out the word. "Not in the way you mean." She lowered her eyes. "If I'd ever found a man like my father, then maybe I'd feel differently. But there just isn't anyone like him or my grandfather, either." She abruptly quit, as though she'd said more than intended. "We're there," she said, pointing out the window at the station. "We've plenty of time to get our train."
"How long is it since your father died, Sylvia?"
She voiced the thought out loud.
"A long time. I was very, very young."
"And your grandfather?"
"He outlived my father. He brought me up." Sylvia's eyes seemed vacant. "He was a wonderful man," and her voice sounded dreamy. She suddenly pulled herself together. "We're there, Maureen. Pick up your parcels and let's go." And she learned over the back of the seat and paid off the driver.