Chapter 8
Margo sipped a cup of coffee while critically evaluating her sketch. A new line of lingerie, almost fine-tuned, was on the drawing board. She needed to perfect, then send it to Collette for production. Each time she struggled for originality. She constantly sought something fresh and more daring. Her customers demanded bedroom attire worthy of the hefty prices she exacted. Margo never disappointed them, but the creative processes were often depleting.
Silk stockings, French-cut panties, lacy bodices-they had been done to death. She needed to put an exotic spin on those items if she wanted to stay on top.
"Hmmmm, that's nice," Amanda critiqued, glancing over her shoulder. "Is that part of your Spring collection?"
Margo wrinkled her nose. "I haven't decided." She pushed the pad away. "I'm saturated. Devoting hours to these things has wiped me out. I hope that when picking up the thread tomorrow, I find something salvageable."
"You're too hard on yourself, Margo. Your designs are lovely." She picked up the pad and skimmed its heavy pages. "This is some of your best work. Collette will be excited bringing it to life."
Margo smiled. "You're simply humoring me."
"No. I like this one in particular. It's very becoming." She displayed the g-string and silk stockings combination. The bra featured a sumptuous filigree. "I'll bet my boyfriend's tongue would wag if I wore it."
"Perhaps you will."
Amanda's heartbeat began to quicken. She recalled her promise to Nick. He wanted information regarding Margo's lucrative climb up the ladder. "Have you ever donned such things for someone special?"
Margo drank more coffee. "Naturally."
"You never speak of the men in your life."
"You've never asked."
"I didn't think it my place."
Margo's eyes flashed. She looked as though her next several answers would undergo intense editing. "I won't admit being a saint. I see men from time to time, my schedule permitting. My primary concern is maintaining the quality of my work. I could not afford to keep the doors of the Golden Chemise open if I failed on that level."
The subject of boyfriends appeared temporarily closed. Amanda switched topics. "You've been enormously successful. The Golden Chemise has a solid reputation among the connoisseurs of lingerie. How did it all come about?"
Margo laughed. "You're terribly inquisitive this evening."
"I can't help but wonder. You decided to open the shop years ago, despite the crushing competition, and managed to survive. Did someone bear a positive influence, or were you responsible for making it happen?"
"A little of both," Margo said, allowing her mind to hurtle backward in time. "I was a restless individual, anxious to brand my name upon the fashion industry. Lingerie wasn't my first love. I was enamored by the Haute Couture. I ventured to Paris when I was twenty, physically drawn to the couturiers. That city truly inspired me."
"Were you a model?"
Margo nodded. "In those days, one had to learn from the basement up. It was the most effective way of getting close to the masters. One especially comes to mind-" Her smile faded, her features darkened. She turned to Amanda. "It's getting rather late, and it's quite an involved tale. Perhaps another night, when I have more time-and energy."
Amanda swallowed her disappointment. It wasn't often Margo showed generosity in furnishing personal details. Pushing her, however, would have been a mistake. "Of course. I've already locked up and was on my way out. Will you be leaving, too?"
"Not yet." Margo regarded the sketch pad. "I ought to work with it a while longer. Collette has become impatient over getting started, and I'm nowhere near completion."
"Very well. Don't wear yourself out."
Margo beamed at her. "I won't." She definitely heard the lock bolted five minutes later. The shop's security assured, she returned to her drawings.
Her scrutiny over the proposed designs lengthened. The coffee in her cup had turned cold when she last sipped it. Margo considered brewing a fresh pot in order to make serious progress when a harsh pounding startled her. Someone repeatedly smacked his fist on her door.
Who in the world could that be? Amanda had surely displayed the "Closed" sign in the window, alerting her customers that the shop had adjourned for the day.
The pounding continued. Its pitch was almost alarming.
Margo wouldn't normally answer it, given the late hour. She didn't want to encourage customers who refused to observe her hours open to the public.
The chance the pummeling belonged to either Mike Brennan or Rick Hoffmann popped into her head. She would have appreciated being phoned before their unsolicited knock at her door. Men were the greatest offenders of structured courtesies.
She left her desk and went in front. The person outside her door blended with the night. She wondered if her impromptu visitor was someone of her acquaintance.
Peering through the glass, she was startled to find Nancy Hoffmann on the other side. Oh, God. That dreaded confrontation was on the verge of taking place. Nancy had learned of her rendezvous with Rick.
Swallowing her dread, she unlocked the door.
"Nancy," she said, summoning cheer, "what brings you here this time of night?"
"We've got to talk," she said, her tone anxiety-ridden.
"Certainly." Margo took a deep breath and stepped aside. Nancy hurried into the shop, looking thoroughly disturbed. Her uncommon demeanor underscored the-likelihood of a clash. Nancy's effervescence had vanished. Exhausted from the hours invested in polishing her sketches, Margo wasn't emotionally equipped to handle a tirade.
"I apologize for the intrusion," Nancy blurted. "I'm sure it's an imposition."
Margo waved off her concern. "It's quite all right. Let's go in back and make ourselves comfortable. I was about to make coffee, but caffeine seems the last thing you need. How about some brandy? I happen to have a bottle."
Nancy shook her head. "It was wrong of me to barge in on you. Why don't we get together for lunch tomorrow?"
"Since you're here, we might as well talk."
"I suppose you're right."
Margo poured her a generous brandy, taking only a splash for herself. Sitting at her desk, she regarded Nancy. In the glow of her overhead lamp, she seemed incredibly attractive. Margo recalled Rick's harsh references to her as a "dead fuck." She defied that description. Nancy seemed a highly desirable woman.
"What's the matter, Nancy? What brings you here?"
A medley of expressions registered. "It's Rick. I believe he's having an affair."
Margo gulped. "Are you sure of it?"
She nodded emphatically. "A woman can tell about these things. He's been coming home late and showering before climbing into bed. He hasn't tried to touch me. Oh, Margo, I despise myself for troubling you with my problems, but you seemed the one person with whom I could confide."
"You haven't discussed your suspicions with any of your girlfriends?"
"No. I'm afraid he's seeing one of them. If I investigate, I might stumble onto something I'll surely regret."
Margo almost let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Nancy."
Her tone softened. "I've always had a great deal of respect for you, Margo. I feel as though you're my surrogate mother. I suppose I was looking for maternal understanding when I hopped into the cab and gave the driver your address. I felt I could unburden myself on you without complaint. It appears my perceptions were valid."
"I'm flattered you feel that way, dear." She placed her hand over hers and thought, God, if she only knew.
Nancy warmed to her touch. "You know, I feel better already. I guess holding it inside almost put me over the edge. Discussing it with you has changed it."
"Rick is a very busy man. Running a law firm has to be a tremendous responsibility. It's obviously consumed him. Your order for the things I had modeled is almost finished. Wear some of them for him and note the change.
He'll come around. Trust me."
Nancy didn't appear to be listening. Her eyes glimmered in their capture of Margo. Her lips quivered. "When I wear your outfits, I feel extremely sexy."
"That's the purpose behind slipping into them."
Her fingers were whisper-soft. Nancy moved closer to Margo. She gazed at her with new meaning. Her tits brushed her. Margo didn't see the sparks of passion until they crackled over her skin.
Nancy's voice dropped to a seductive tone. "You always bring models with you to exhibit your wares, Margo. Why is it you never get into those undergarments yourself?"
"My role is designer, not model."
"It's been a disappointment to me. I've often wanted to see you garbed in those exquisite creations."
Margo could feel her pussy tense and moisten. Her eyes glittered with yearning. She began to wonder what Nancy would taste like.
Rick's description of her from the previous day resonated in the back of her mind. His references to her glacial personality didn't seem to apply. Margo perceived a woman with a smoldering libido.
Nancy appeared to crave something only a woman could supply. Margo was totally comfortable rendering that service. Her orientation wasn't specifically heterosexual. She had, upon occasion, indulged in flings with those of her gender. A woman constantly learned such things about herself as she aged.
Nancy employed a honeyed tone. "You aren't afraid of letting people see the woman behind those delicious ideas?"
"Not in the least," Margo purred, unafraid to show her arousal.
Nancy vented her a hot stare. She made no attempt to disguise her hunger. Her tongue entered Margo's mouth with unexpected force, then swirled about until hers retaliated. Their tits pressed together, nipples touching. Margo squirmed against her quivering form, enjoying those lush female curves. It felt good, being embraced by an enthusiastic woman. Margo wondered how deeply her needs reached.
Nancy's anxieties underwent transition. The distressed young woman who entered her shop discarded her woes. Margo worried about her instability. That concern was displaced as their kiss lengthened. Margo sensed mounting desire. Neglecting the urgency that prevailed over her proved unthinkable. Learning more about what made Nancy Hoffmann tick spurred her.
Nancy unbuttoned her blouse. Her fingers were quick, expert. The tiny pinch to her nipples made Margo gasp. She converted the pink nub into a stiff peak. Margo shivered as it expanded, then moaned as she covered it with her mouth. She sucked delicately on her tit. The persistence and urgency of her lips brought Margo to sopping wetness.
"Ohhhhhh," Margo whimpered, trembling from the intensity she exerted. Her head tilted back while struggling to absorb the sensations that hummed through her body. Margo seized Nancy's head and held it in position. She didn't want her to stop slobbering her rock-hard nipple-not even for a moment. The slurps she took were exquisite, satisfying.
Nancy's fingers roamed freely over Margo. She dug them into her ass and pulled her as closely as possible. She took enjoyment in her curves and what they had to offer.
Margo sighed with contentment as her sucks became furiously demanding. When Nancy cupped her mound and rubbed, her eyeballs rolled up in their sockets. Margo shuddered with joy. Just having those rotating tips near her clit offered relief. Her ardor spiraled.
Nancy did not seek her consent. What occurred was almost dream-like. Neither stopped to question her actions.
Nancy sensed Margo's increasing dizziness and steered her on top of the desk. Margo couldn't resist her. The pleasure of her mouth was inescapable. She vibrated against those fiercely sucking lips. She knew what she wanted her to do with them.
Grasping the edge of the desk, Margo spread her legs. Nancy knelt, then lifted her skirt. She massaged the damp spot on her French-cut panties with her nose. Nancy inhaled her womanly fragrance. Her sob of approval had Margo shaking. Margo caught her breath as she dragged her panties down her smooth thighs. Nancy didn't allow her another second getting them off-her face plunged to her pussy. Margo felt her sharp exhalations against her flesh, following the tickle of her long blonde hair as it whipped her stomach and inner thighs. The last thing Margo experienced was the firm, moist tip of her tongue on her juicy cunt flesh.
Then, euphoria!
"Oh Nancy. Yes, it's okay. Suck me," Margo moaned, thrusting her snatch at Nancy's eager mouth. Margo curved her legs about her bobbing head, clinging to Nancy with all her might. Margo hugged the sides of her face. "Taste me. Yes. Ohhhh. Lick my pussy. Use your tongue. Lash my hot clit. Do me. Yes. Ohhhh."
Nancy proved quite knowledgeable in dispensing oral delight. Her strokes were soft, indulgent and gratifying. Margo couldn't get enough. She wanted her to suck nonstop, cleaning her of juice. More streamed from Margo's horny snatch, only to be removed by that enthusiastic tip.
Margo writhed, accepting her fluttering lust. Her head tilted back as the waves of joy assaulted her. She lost command of her vision. Her speech garbled at the application of hot saliva.
Margo understood why Rick often wanted her. Nancy gave the illusion of being the accommodating wife, but, in truth, she craved something Rick couldn't possibly give. She even ventured a guess that some of Nancy's relationships with her girlfriends were more than platonic.
Ohhhh. Nancy certainly had Margo hooked. She could easily form an addiction to that wildly curling tongue and its delightful insanity.
"I can't believe I'm having you," Nancy murmured. "You're fulfilling my secret fantasy. You can't know how deeply I've wanted you."
"Ohhhh," Margo panted, wanting more of that sinuous treatment. Nancy devoured unrestricted quantities of her soaked cunt. Her eyes sparkled while bobbing between Margo's legs. Each descent brought further bliss and a heightened loss of control. Margo clasped Nancy's head and pushed down on it, then swerved her pussy to her mouth. Nancy brandished her tip and engaged her clit with frantic strokes. "Ohhhh." Margo encouraged her until the last of her slurps robbed her of strength.
Margo came quickly, her brain unable to process another explosive image. She clenched her teeth and slammed her ass to the desk with shuddering force. Nancy didn't hesitate for a second, raging with thirst. She scooped up her tits and squeezed them as the spasms intensified. Margo arched her back and swayed, swinging her blonde mane. She ground her hips as the fire she kindled licked at her flesh.
"Ohhhh," Margo murmured, sweat pouring from her brow. "Oh, God."
"Mmmmm," Nancy sighed.
Margo had to have a taste of the woman's pussy. She wanted to discover its flavor while feeling her cum against her swirling tip.
Eagerly, they switched places. Margo's face swooped between Nancy's legs. Margo smelled the excitement in her cunt. She, too, wanted to be licked. Her features stressed that notion. Margo, ecstatic, wanting nothing more than to have that pussy in her mouth.
"Love me with your tongue, Margo," she panted. "Make me happy down there."
"I will," she purred.
Nancy shoved her silk bush at Margo's face.
"Yes. Please give me some tongue."
Margo sucked her pussy that instant. Her pink cunt lips beckoned. She opened them with her tongue, snaking the tip between that slippery division. The honey oozed right to her lips. Margo dipped into that sugary fount, letting it dissolve on her undulating tip.
"Ohhhhhhh," Margo heard her gasp of satisfaction. Nancy jerked in her grasp, responding to the heat.
Margo held her fast and dove even further into her sopping crevice. She licked and sucked, causing those slim hips to jerk.
"Don't stop. More. Give me more of it."
Her pleas were expendable. Margo was only too happy to comply. Her taste buds screamed for her savory dew. Seizing those volatile hips, she went down on Nancy. She gleaned the flavor from those thick flaps.
Nancy's spine arched. "Oh, Margo!"
Margo dipped her tongue into that yummy snatch. Nancy's cunt melted her mouth. Her breathing grew ragged as Margo ate her pussy. Margo couldn't control herself. Tenderness was noticeably excised from her technique. Un-like her calm nibbling, Margo proved wanton. She made her thrash and sweat with her furious lashing. Margo fucked her relentlessly with her tongue. Nancy's cunt became all the more juicy from her probe. She sucked
Nancy until her nerves were visibly shot.
"Ohhhh, oh, yes!" Nancy cried.
Her sleek thighs surrounded Margo's face. Margo saw them tremble as she used her tip to great effect. Nancy was hoarse and burning with fever as she worked that clit, vibrating it to perfection. Because giving head was an enjoyable experience, Margo took pleasure in seeing her reach a satisfying conclusion.
"You're so tasty," Margo remarked between slurps. Her lips were coated with Nancy's juices. She attached them and sucked hard on her pink flesh. After several uninterrupted seconds, Margo lifted her mouth. Nancy couldn't remain steady. She rocked against the desk, sweating, begging her to continue.
"Don't stop," Nancy begged through closed teeth. "Please, more."
To explain the ferocity of her need, she cupped the back of Margo's head and crammed that succulent pink flesh in her mouth. Margo's tongue stabbed Nancy's warm crevice and wriggled madly.
"That's it," Nancy panted. "Oh, God. I love it."
Margo strongly sucked her pussy, permitting zero recovery. She drank the tangy ooze that seeped from her sodden core. She even showed her a few tricks that stole Nancy's breath.
"Where did you learn that? Oh, Margo.
Ohhhhhh," she whimpered. The hand that gripped Margo's head trembled roughly. Her chin went high while she struggled to replenish her air supply. "Yes. Ohhhh."
"Mmmmm," Margo moaned, curling around the drenched lips and veering toward her clit. Nancy tried pushing her mouth over it, but Margo resisted her. Margo teased her for several seconds. She licked her pink flesh and dabbed into the juice-filled hole. Margo drank her lip-smacking treat as if it were in short supply.
"More, please," Nancy sobbed, leaning into Margo's face. It was more an order than a request. That wet pussy crowded Margo's thirsty expression.
Margo swallowed what she could. Nancy had a delightful flavor. She massaged her ass, pulling Nancy tightly to her face. Nancy yielded to her urgent strength.
"Suck it, please. Oh, please, Margo. Suck my juicy clit. Yeah. Ohhhh."
Her nails raked through Margo's hair and reached her scalp. Margo was much too turned on to care. She decided to grant her relief. Her tongue slithered over her clit in one continuous stream.
"Oh, God." Her head tilted back, her chin high and her voice trailing off like a sigh. The pressure of her nails lessened. Her ass wiggled in her clutches. "Yes, eat it. Put your whole tongue in there. Yeah. Oh, God. Fuck me with it. Yeah. Deeper."
God, Margo inwardly remarked. If Rick could only see his wife now. Her transformation would shock him.
Nancy's ass thrashed against the desk at every flick of Margo's snake-like tip. Margo enjoyed tongue-fucking her. She speared into her sopping tissue, digging to capacity. Those slurps enabled her joy. Margo's contentment stemmed from her full-throated cries.
After a few more sucks, Nancy came against Margo's face. "Ohhhhhhhhhh, I'm cumming, cumming." Margo went about lapping that quivering flesh long after the contractions deserted her. She traced the slippery boundaries and plunged into her hot succulence. Her gratified yelp was final.
While she still shuddered with orgasm, Margo rose to her feet and embraced her. Nancy appreciated having someone to cling to during that weak moment. Her hands smoothed over her back. Her breath, scented with cunt, drifted. Margo nibbled on those moist lips, gratified to see her old demeanor return. The young woman beaming before her was the one she knew.
"I don't know what came over me," Nancy confessed. "I couldn't explain that outburst, even if I tried."
"Let's not dwell on it," Margo whispered. "I enjoyed myself, too. It'll remain our secret."
"Yes. A secret I won't ever tell. Not even Rick."
Margo smiled. Secrets were the things she kept best.