Chapter 10

Alice Burton dragged on her cigarette and sensually blew the smoke out through her nostrils. "Aren't you drinking rather heavily?" she asked Clara, watching the girl down two straight shots of Hennessy Seven Star in as many gulps.

"I haven't had anything else to drink but the wine for dinner," said Clara, reaching for a glass of ice water. For a moment she held it in her hand-a hand which trembled so much that Alice could hear the ice cubes tinkling against the glass. Then she lifted it to her lips, gulped down the contents thirstily, and poured herself another jigger of cognac.

Alice waited until the girl had put down the shot glass. Then she said softly: "You've really been through the mill, haven't you? Would you like to tell me about it?"

Clara gulped. "No! Oh-No! I couldn't. I don't even want to think about it again."

"All right, dear. I won't force the issue. Shall we just go out on the terrace to clear our heads? The cigarette smoke is really dreadful in here, isn't it?"

"Yes. All right," agreed Clara. She followed Alice out onto the terrace and sat opposite her in the same deck chair in which she had been sitting less than two hours before, amusing Alice's friends with her naive banter.

"It seems like two years," she said suddenly.

"What seems like two years, Clara?"

"The time that's passed since the last time we sat here. I was so happy then. Silly little baby. Being cute for all the grownups. Making them laugh. Oh, I'm funny all right. A real laugh riot." Her voice broke with a sob, and she buried her face in her hands.

Alice, who had been standing at the railing of the terrace, moved next to the girl, placing her arms around the shaking shoulders and lightly stroking the tousled hair. At last the sobs ceased and the shaking body grew still. Clara drew away from the warm shelter of Alice's arms and sat erect, drawing her knees up and hugging them to her chest. "Thank you," she said, in a barely audible voice, "for being so good to me. I don't deserve it."

"Don't be silly," replied Alice sharply. "I'm only being nice to you because I want you to like me. If I weren't interested in you, Clara. I wouldn't have ever suggested that you help me change clothes. I probably wouldn't even have been so nice about your spilling water on my dress."

"Oh!" Clara opened her eyes very wide. "I didn't realize ... that is ... I mean. I didn't think ... I mean ... Oh, dear, I'm so confused."

Alice laughed softly and patted Clara's hand. "I know, lovey, and that's what interests me about you: your innocent confusion. You know, Clara, you're not the type of girl one expects to find here. I've been wondering just what it is that makes you stay...." She waited for Clara to say something, but the girl remained silent. "If you don't enjoy yourself here," Alice continued, "you should go home. Where life is safe and sane. Where you won't see too much; where you won't scorch your pretty tinsel wings."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"And you won't understand until it's too late, I suppose. You know, you really have seen nothing terribly shocking yet. Don't you realize that? You think it's been like a nightmare, don't you? You think the things you've seen and done are utterly depraved. Well, my dear, you're wrong. Although I don't know exactly what you did tonight, I can take a pretty fair guess. I know John Webster and I know what his tastes are. That's why I let you go with him. Because I knew you'd be safe in his hands."

"Safe?" Clara gasped. "Safe?"

"Yes," Alice smiled. "Safe. You see. I told you, you hadn't seen anything yet. Just listen, Clara, listen to the conversations around us. Listen carefully...

The two women sat silently for a moment, and strange voices wafted through the night air.

"...sent his wife into their son's bedroom, naked, with two bottles of champagne. A kid of fifteen; never drank a drop before...."

"...a wonderful place. ... Completely integrated ... In a coffin, on top of a white woman-with black candles lit at both ends. Terribly dramatic. And perfectly discreet."

"...an incestuous family, all five of them, including the grandfather. Charming people."

"...but after she'd been to bed with him and then went to New Orleans and Switzerland, she couldn't think of anything better to do with her sixty thousand a year and her million dollar education and six languages but get the Doberman to make love to her while the Pekinese curled up underneath and lapped her-that's why they call them lap dogs, you know-at the same time.. . "

"I feel rather tired," said Clara. "I think I'll go to bed now."

"Do you want me to take you back to your room."

"Yes, please."

The older woman helped the girl to her feet, put her arm around the slender waist and walked her into the house and up the staircase.

"Here it is," said Clara, stopping in front of the door and fumbling in her purse for the key. At last she found it and placed it in the key hole.

The two women entered the room. Clara took the key from the lock, closed the door and replaced the key in the keyhole on the inside of the door. She paused for a moment, then locked herself and Alice in.

The woman stood quietly, watching, waiting for Clara to make the next move. But die girl seemed rooted to the spot, as though locking the door had sapped her of her last ounce of strength.

Alice went to her side and prodded her gently. "Come to bed, dear. It's way past two a.m. and you're exhausted."

Clara obeyed, moving toward the bed as though in a trance.

Alice switched on the small bedside lamp. "Take off your dress," she said, crossing the room to turn out the overhead light. "And I'll take off mine in just a minute. Then I'll come back to you and we can make love. That is, if you really want to. If you don't, tell me now and I'll understand. But tell me now."

She took the girl's continued silence for assent, and slipped her dress off and hung it neatly over the back of a chair.

Glancing at Clara, she saw that the girl was still fully clothed.

'Tour dress, dear," she said in the tone one uses with a recalcitrant six-year-old. "Take it off."

Clara obeyed, sitting up to do so. Then she fell back heavily on the bed as the dress slipped to the floor.

Now Alice returned to the bed and gently began stripping off Clara's underclothes, pausing occasionally to stroke and audibly admire the slender young body under her hands. As she stripped off Clara's stockings, she exclaimed: "Why, your knee is badly scraped. But your stocking isn't even snagged. Now I'm beginning to understand. So John had you act out one of his little dramas, did he? He wasn't content with you as an audience, eh?" She paused. "But why did you go along with it, Clara? Why? If you don't like these libertine excesses, why don't you leave here? You're free to go at any time, you know. Are you a masochist? Is that it? Is that why you stay here? Because you like to be hurt and humiliated? Tell me." She bent over the girl, cupped the wan, heart-shaped face in her hand and gazed at the soft blue eyes. But she could read nothing in them.

"Please," begged Clara, twisting her head away, "I don't want to talk about it. Really I don't. Not now, anyway." She sat up and put her arms around Alice, awkwardly unfastening the hooks of the black brassiere which, earlier in the evening, she herself had fastened. Then she slid her hands down to the slender waist and tugged gently at the waistband of the flimsy black step-ins. Alice arched her buttocks while Clara pushed the thin garment over her ample hips. She began to draw it down over the shapely legs when suddenly she stopped, and, with an exclamation, bent over the woman's mid-section. She put out one finger and tentatively touched the scorpion brand, as though she expected it to sting her. "What's that?" she asked.

"So that's what startled you when you saw me nude earlier tonight," she chuckled. "It's a kind of tattoo-tag.

"But it's burned in. Didn't it hurt terribly? And why a scorpion? And in such a place?"

"One of my lovers put it there. He wanted a scorpion and he wanted it there, so that's why. And it didn't hurt when it was put on. He used an anesthetic salve."

"I didn't know there was such a thing. But then it seems like everything here is new to me, doesn't it?" Clara gave Alice a shamefaced smile. Then her face went serious again. "But didn't your husband object?"

"Never mind about my husband and the scorpion," said Alice. "I don't like to talk about other lovers when I'm with you. Look! Your lipstick is still on my thighs. I told you I wouldn't remove it." She took Clara's hand and guided it to the spots where the now faded and smeared hp rouge obscured the smooth whiteness of her thighs.

"Have your thighs ever had lipstick on them?" she asked.

"No. I've never ... been with a woman before," said Clara.

"So. I'm the first, am I?" Clara nodded.

"Well, then, it's up to me to teach you the joys of lesbian love. Ji you don't enjoy this evening, it'll be all my fault."

During the conversation, Alice had been rubbing Clara's nipples with the flat of her hand. Now the two bullet-like protuberances stood out sharply, and the older woman leaned over and delicately took one between her teeth and gnawed it lightly. Then she began tonguing it, moving in ever-increasing concentric circles which soon covered a good sized area of Clara's

"Oh!" said Clara. "That feels nice!" She sounded surprised.

Alice lifted her head and smiled at the girl. "I'll show you something else that's nice," she said, and taking her own breasts in her hands, she rubbed the nipples against Clara's until they, too, grew hard, and began to tingle. Then she drew Clara to her and held her tightly. Their two bellies rubbed together, the strands of hair between their legs intertwined.

Alice gently forced Clara's thighs apart with one of her own, and began moving that thigh up and down against the mouth of Clara's treasure trove. "Relax," she whispered. "Just let yourself go. Stop thinking. Let your mind merge with your senses. Feel, Clara, feel! Feel how nice it is, how warm. Very, very warm. She spoke in a low monotone, almost as though she were trying to hypnotize the girl. And indeed, the words did seem to produce a hypnotic effect, for Clara's body relaxed, and the lines of tension on her normally smooth young face had vanished.

Alice continued to move her thigh up and down, up and down, feeling with satisfaction the warm moisture spreading out of the little girl's oven and onto her own flesh. "Take my breasts in your hands," she whispered. "Excite me as I excite you."

Clara complied, awkwardly crushing the woman's swelling globes in her moist palms. As she did so, Alice began to rub her own slit against one of Clara's legs. She was already quite excited, and she could feel Clara stiffen as the hot moisture spread over her thigh. But then the girl relaxed again and continued to toy with Alice's breasts.

"Put your hands on my buttocks now," said Alice. "But slowly. Work your way down. Explore me. Learn my body. Learn the things which excite me."

Clara looked puzzled, and Alice smiled. "Never mind, I'll explain all that later. Right now, I just want you to feel pleasure."

Clara obediently but awkwardly ran her hands down Alice's body. Her awkwardness kindled a flame in the older woman, who began squirming and more insistently rubbing herself against the girl's leg. Clara then reached for the woman's buttocks and began patting them with one hand as, with one finger of the other, at Alice's instruction, she explored the valley between the two ripely swelling mounds. Suddenly Alice gasped as Clara's finger slipped between the lips of her love nest

"Oh, that's good!" she moaned. "Keep it there! Don't take it away!" She pushed the girl onto her back and pressed her own delta firmly between Clara's legs She began to push her hips back and forth so that the two plants which flowered between their legs rubbed petals. Alice began to bite and suck at Clara's nipples as she rocked back and forth, and was rewarded with another gasp from the young girl. "Oh Don't stop, Alice! Please don't stop!

"I won't darling, I won't"

And she didn't stop until she felt the spasm welling and breaking through the girl's body, until the girl herself went limp and whispered: "I don't feel a thing anymore."

Alice would have smiled had she not been so excited. Instead, she rolled off Clara and onto her back, spreading her legs wide. "Do it to me, now, Clara. Do to me what I just did to you. I'll show you how." She pulled Clara between her legs. "Make love to me, child. Love me with your sex, the way I loved you with mine. The way Johnny loved you tonight."

"Oh!" Clara gasped. "But he didn't ... that is ... I ... oh please, he didn't make love to me and I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Tell me about it," Alice commanded. "Tell me about it while you make love to me, while you excite me and set me on fire. Tell me, Clara, what happened tonight?"

"I told you, I won't talk about it. You didn't want to talk about your lovers while you're with me. And I don't want to talk about mine." Then, all traces of reluctance suddenly leaving her voice, she said quickly: "But if you really want to know, tell me about the man who put the scorpion on your stomach and I'll tell you all about what I did with Johnny."

"Touche," laughed Alice, pressing herself ever closer against Clara and gently guiding the motions of the girl's body with motions of her own. "But I pass for now. Let's make love, and we'll talk later."

After a great deal of awkward experimentation on Clara's part, Alice reached a climax. Then she lay quietly at Clara's side, smoking a cigarette and idly stroking the girl's thighs and lower stomach. Suddenly she said: "Clara. You told me Johnny didn't make love to you. That means he made you suck him, didn't he?"

"Oh, no. I'd never do that! Mary Lou sucked him while I licked."

Alice suppressed a laugh. "I see," she said, as she stubbed out her cigarette. "Would you like to lick me, Clara? While I lick you? Shall we lie here and lick each other?" She kissed Clara's hip and then the fleshy part of her inner thigh, brushing against the swelling Mount of Venus with her cheek.

"No!" cried Clara. "Oh no! I just couldn't. You won't make me do it, will you?"

"Why, of course not, darling. I won't make you do anything you don't want to." Inaudibly she added: "Not tonight, anyway." She continued in a normal voice: "But you won't mind if I do it to you, will you?" Without waiting for an answer, she kissed Clara squarely between the legs. Then she extended her tongue and began exploring Clara's delightful rose bush.

"You've done this to a lot of girls, haven't you."

"We're not going to talk about our sexual experiences any more this evening," came the reply, the sound of Alice's voice muffled between Clara's thighs. She went back to her task with renewed ardor.

"It's you who should be ashamed now," said Clara suddenly.

The woman again stopped tonguing. "Perhaps I am," she said. "But if I am, it's part of the thrill I get. I told you before, shame is like wine; it goes with a good meal, heightens the taste of it and makes you high."

"And that's why the mark on your belly is there. It's a mark of shame, isn't it? Did you want it there so that every man who made love to you would know about all the terrible things you'd done?"

Alice laughed. "Really, Clara. You have the most vivid imagination I've ever encountered. And I hate to disappoint you, but I haven't done all that many 'terrible' things." While she was speaking, Alice's fingers had replaced her tongue, busdy exciting and inflaming the swelling petals of Clara's sweet bush. Now Alice bent once more again to tongue the flowerlets, as Clara's body tensed and began to move in response to the probing fingers.

"Rub inside," Clara said, and the woman slipped her tongue deep into the warm, moist cavern. To Alice's surprise, Clara now slipped her finger inside Alice's well and began to move it vigorously up and down. Alice began to suck again, harder than ever.

"Oh, stop!" Clara cried. "Stop!"

But Alice did not stop. She continued rubbing back and forth against Clara's finger, and sucking and licking the girl's love parts.

"Oh, I'm going to explode!" cried Clara as, suddenly, the woman's finger intruded between her buttocks and plunged violently in and out. She twisted and writhed around.

Now Alice moved so that her Mount of Venus was about an inch from Clara's face. The girl, thrashing wildly, turned toward the dripping wet grotto. She reached out her tongue, licked the tiny petals and began to suck them violently, as her hips gyrated ever faster.

Alice threw her head back and smacked her lips, then bent forward again and nipped die soft flesh of Clara's little pink lips.

Clara screamed. A violent spasm shook her. She opened her mouth, and Alice pressed against it harder than before. Clara stuck her tongue into the gaping cavern of Alice's sex and reached a second climax.