Chapter 10

Denise Crocker was fifteen minutes late when she arrived for her weekend at the Foxhill beach house.

She was attired in short shorts with matching halter, and drum majorette boots—all the color of virgin snow. The short shorts fit so snug that even the gentle swelling of her Venus mound showed, and the halter was a semi-cup affair that barely concealed the tips of her heavy breasts and left the upper slopes exposed in all their glorious nakedness. White boots were calfskin, low-heeled.

Denise gave her shoulder-length honey hair a final pat. She reached out to goose the doorbell button. She silently hoped that Arab Foxhill would devour her juicy cunt.

For the whole weekend.

Arab Foxhill answered the door on the third ring. She appeared to be a bit tipsy. Arab looked ravishing. And slightly pissed. She stepped aside to let Denise enter. "You're late."

Denise's smile was quick. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Foxhill. I didn't mean to be late. Blame it on this costume I'm wearing. I wanted to look stunning for my first meeting with you in ages." The right tone, the right words.

Arab's dark eyes caressed. "And stunning you are, Denise. I can readily understand why Brand enjoyed gorging himself on you."

Denise felt a sudden chill creep over her. Arab Foxhill wasn't wasting any time in bringing the subject of her son and last night to a head. "It won't happen again, Mrs. Foxhill. Not without your approval."

They went into the living room where drinks were waiting. Arab handed one to Denise. "What makes you think I'll give my approval to anything that concerns you and my son?"

"The invitation you sent me."

Arab's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

Denise sat down on the sofa and crossed her shapely legs. "You never sent any to the other girls you bought or frightened away from Brand."

"I see." Arab sampled her screwdriver. "And this tells you what?"

Denise took a deep and deliberate breath that disturbed her breasts. "That maybe there's hope for my having a future with your son."

Arab looked at her shrewdly. "As his wife?"

Denise nodded. "With your permission, of course."

"Of course." Arab smiled suddenly. "Well, we have the entire weekend to discuss my son's future ... and yours ... and to get re-acquainted with each other. I wanted it this way, Denise. That's why I sent your father to Key West."

"I know."

"I'm sure you do." Arab's voice turned sly. "And you also know that Brand flew away from the nest this morning. Why didn't you fly away with him?"

Denise wet her lips. "I told you ... I'm not interested in doing anything without your full approval, Mrs. Foxhill."

Arab finished her drink and put the glass aside. "I'm flattered. I'm also beginning to see that I've underestimated you." She paused, nodded as though to herself. "You and Brand? Hmmm. The possibilities intrigue me. But enough of this idle chit-chat for now. Drink up and then we'll do our thing about getting to know each other all over again."

Denise lifted the glass to her lips. "I'd like that, Mrs. Foxhill. I really and truly would like that."

Arab refilled their glasses. Her back was turned for a minute. A slow heat crept up Denise's throat as she studied Arab. The same heat reached her face. She felt like throwing up her hands and walking away from this entire mess, but the thought of Daddy and his job held her tight. And there was still the remote possibility of getting Arab's permission to go the distance with Brand.

Be nice to Arab, Daddy had told her. Be nice ...

A shiver iced through Denise's body. She had never gone the lesbian route before ...

Arab handed Denise a fresh drink and joined her on the sofa. Their hips touched and Arab's sharp intake of breath warned Denise that the show was about to get on the road. Denise's flesh curled and tingled and leaped.

Arab broke the silence. "About Brand ... " Arab placed a hand on Denise's naked thigh and gave it an affectionate pat. "I don't want just any girl to get near my son, Denise. I want a girl who doesn't mind being nice to me once in a while, too."

Denise began to tremble. "Nice? In what way, Mrs. Foxhill?"

Arab patted her thigh. "Arab. Call me Arab."

"All right ... Arab."

Arab's fingers crept toward the crotch of Denise's short shorts. "Now, about being nice to me ...

Denise's mind flitted back to the rainy afternoon her toothless uncle had conned her into eating his cock for a counterfeit silver dollar. She writhed against the hand on her cloth-covered cunt. "Tell me what to do."

Arab stood up. "I'd rather show you what to do, baby, but not here. My servants might walk in and die of shock. Let's retire to my bedroom."

Once inside the bedroom Arab dropped her shapely ass on the edge of the king-size bed. She was silent.

The silence was unnerving, and now Denise broke it by saying, "What do you want me to do, Arab?"

"I want you to tell me about the sexual happening that came down between you and my son last night."

Denise blinked and cringed inwardly. The bitch was being suddenly vicious. "What's to tell? We did our thing, nothing more."

"What thing? Or rather, what things?"

Denise was afraid. She pulled back. She swallowed hard. She was beginning to understand.

The tables were being turned.

How stupid to think that Arab Foxhill would let her off the hook so easily.

"I'm waiting," Arab snapped. "What happened between you and Brand last night?"

Denise forced herself to speak. "What's to tell? Brand fucked me in the ass, I sucked his cock, and that's it in a nutshell."

Blood drained from Arab's face. "And afterwards you talked and persuaded Brand to walk out on me."

"That's not true, Arab."

"I don't believe you, doll." Arab's open hand cracked against Denise's cheek, snapping her head to one side. "Try again, and this time tell me the truth. You put Brand up to walking out on me, didn't you?"

The slap excited Denise. She felt her nipples come awake behind the white halter.

Arab punched her in the stomach.

Denise doubled over, gasping. Then she backed away, hands upraised in feeble protest. "No, I didn't lie, Arab! I told you the truth!"

"Liar, liar!"

Arab gripped Denise's shoulders and whirled her around, causing their breasts to collide, sending a fresh charge of lust shooting into Denise's already excitement-heated loins.

Denise moved against Arab's breasts and her arms coiled around the woman in a fierce embrace. The heady scent of Arab's perfume made her head swim. She was suddenly confused, frightened anew.

Arab forced her down onto the king-size bed. Then, slowly, the woman stepped back and slowly proceeded to disrobe. She removed the baby pink dress and then reached back to unfasten her bra. Her big breasts danced into nakedness and Denise's eyes devoured her stabbing nipples. She was frightened ... and fascinated.

Arab pushed the panties down past her hips. When she straightened, Denise's glance dropped to the triangular mat of dark hair below her pouting navel. Denise trembled. She had never seen a naked woman this close before.

Arab smiled malevolently. "And now for you, little doll."

Denise licked her lips. "W-what are y-you g-going to d-do to m-me?"

"Nothing," Arab snapped as she tugged the short shorts free of Denise's body, then did the same thing to her matching halter. "You took care of my son, and now you'll take care of me."

"H-how?"

"By feeding on me."

Denise stared at the pubic mop between Arab's shapely legs. "I don't think I can do it, Arab. I've never gone that route before. Please don't make me put the tongue to your cunt."

Menace drenched Arab's voice. "Would you prefer a taste of the whip I have in my closet?"

"N-no."

"Then do as I command and tongue me."

Denise's voice dripped with misery. "I can't. I don't know how to go down on another woman's cunt."

Arab's naked breasts heaved wildly and her eyes turned almost luminous. "You had damn well better start learning ... or you and your father can both kiss the job he has with Foxhill Enterprises good-by."

The words jarred Denise. There! It was out in the open! The one threat she hadn't wanted to hear!

"All right, Arab, you win."

"I usually do," Arab said acidly. "On your back, little doll."

Denise hesitated.

"Now, you little bitch."

Denise flopped to her back. Arab stretched out beside her. Her big breasts hovered over Denise's mouth. She moved the right nipple into place. The breast dipped and a hard nipple found its way between Denise's lips.

"Feeding time," Arab said coldly. "Start sucking on my tit."

Denise closed her eyes and proceeded to teethe on the breast pressing hotly against her face. The room turned into a blur, and so did her mind. Time lost its meaning as desire took over, and in a few moments she felt her head being forced downward toward the domineering woman's bushy cunt ...

The doorbell chimes sounded, breaking the weird spell. Arab stiffened. "What the hell—?"

Arab leaped from the bed, breasts bouncing. She dressed quickly and started to leave the room. She paused at the door and glared at Denise, then snapped, "I'll get back to you, little bitch. Stay put."

Denise sat up, nodded numbly. Arab scooted out of the bedroom.

Denise left the rumpled bed and crept to the door. She heard Arab Foxhill's voice, and then another woman's. The caller was Ginger Green!

Denise's face registered shock. Why wasn't Ginger out at Moon Lake with Brand?

Arab's voice lifted suddenly. "Denise, come here at once!"

Denise didn't take time to reach for her shorts and halter. She trotted out to join Arab and Ginger Green, attired in nothing except her white boots.

"What is it, Arab?" Denise asked.

Arab's stormy eyes locked with hers. "Did you know about Brand and Moon Lake when you came here this evening?"

Denise started to lie, changed her mind, nodded. "I knew. He was supposed to take Ginger with him."

Arab nodded in Ginger Green's direction. "This bitch left the office early to prepare herself for an orgy with my son, and as she drove by she saw Brand leaving the Pour House in the company of another bitch."

"So?"

"Ginger doesn't know who the girl was. Do you?"

Denise shook her head.

Arab's lips tightened. "If you're lying to me—"

Denise broke in angrily. "What in the hell is the matter with you, Arab? Can't you see past that fucking blind spot you have for your son to recognize the truth when you hear it?"

Arab blanched. "I'm beginning to see a lot of things tonight. For one thing, I'm beginning to see that I'm surrounded by enemies. I won't have it. This is my corner of the world and you two greedy sluts don't belong in it." She turned to jerk a velvet ceiling cord that brought Lil Wheat on the run. "Lil, you know where we keep petty cash. Give these two ladies five hundred dollars each and see to it that they find their way to the road leaving town."

Lil Wheat nodded and left the room.