Chapter 12
It had only been days since Jane had driven over these roads, but their was a newness about them, an unfamiliarity. It was a world she had seen somewhere a long time ago and now remembered only vaguely. When she steered the car around the last curve in the road and saw the big house set into the side of the hill, the remembered comfort poured back in a flood of warmth.
She braked to a quick stop in front of the steps and almost ran out of it. At the same moment, the front door opened and her father rushed out to meet her. There was a tearful, joyful reunion as the man's arms enfolded his daughter.
Inside the house, he led her into the big study. Even the bottles and decanters on the bar looked friendly and familiar. Jane poured a half glass of Canadian rye and filled the glass with water.
"What can I get you, Dad?"
"You start working on that, Janie, I'll think of something and look after myself."
He thought of Scotch and soda and poured a large one. Together, they walked to the couch and sat. He held his glass in his left hand, his right, looked for her hand and held it.
"I was terribly worried about you, Jane. I guess you may have thought that I wasn't much of a father, but I've always been concerned about you."
"I know that, Dad, I've always known it."
"How much do you want to tell me now, Jane? Just tell me what you want to."
"There's nothing to hide. I can tell you the whole crazy thing, Dad. But I warn you, it's going to sound like something out of the Saturday matinee."
As they sipped at their drinks, she told him the whole story. She told everything, from the kidnapping on the way to the country club, to the bazaar wedding ceremony with Don just before she left.
She had never talked to him with such frankness before and was amazed at how easy it was. There was no need for modesty, no holding back.
As her father listened, he winced, smiled, laughed, and squeezed her hand with sympathy and understanding.
"Keerist, Janie girl, I never suspected you were such a woman. I want you to know I'm real proud of you."
"Fifty thousand dollars worth of proud, Dad?"
"Now don't insult me, girl. What in hell is fifty thousand? Why there are days when I just sit on my ass and do nothing and make more than that. Do you realize just how much money we have? I could drop fifty thousand a day every day for a couple of months and not work up a sweat about it. Don't talk foolish, girl."
"Then you won't try to take it back from them? Thanks, Dad. It's very important to me."
"Now look Janie, I don't mind telling you I planned on getting you back home, then going after the bastards who gave you a hard time. Sure I was going to get my money back, but not because I need it, just because I don't like to let anyone pull one over on me. You'd like me to leave them alone, huh?"
"I know this is a lot to ask, Dad, but yes, I would. I'll find some way to pay you back."
"Pay me back? Who in hell do you think you are, some stranger or something? You're my girl, Jane, you don't pay back anything."
She told him more about the Travers family then. By the time she had finished, he didn't really understand, not the way she understood them, but he was able to accept her line of reasoning.
"You're sure now, Janie, you wouldn't like me to send someone out there and settle accounts for you?"
"Thanks Dad, I'm sure."
"Then damn it all, girl, the least we can do is have another drink."
He got up, but Jane pushed him back onto the couch. "I haven't poured you a drink in a long time, Dad, let me do it this time."
"Well now, that sounds like a real fine idea, but cut out all the talk and start pouring and make it big. I mean real big, Texas big."
"Who are you kidding, you old phony, Texans don't drink Scotch, they drink crude oil or something the coyotes make."
The rest of the evening went on in the same vein. There had always been a casual friendship between father and daughter, but now it had blossomed into something new and strong and warm.
Jane wondered where Bunny was, but she didn't want to hurt her father by asking. He knew his wife should have been there to greet their daughter and was pleased that he didn't have to talk about it. They just ignored her.
Neither was anxious to end their reunion, so they drank and chatted until close to two o'clock. After they said good night, Jane ran a deep, hot bath and soaked for a long time, luxuriating in the wonder of the sparkling room and the clear, warm, scented water.
In her room, she looked through her collection of nighties, but ruled in favor of feeling the crisp, clean sheets against her naked skin. Nude, she climbed into the big, soft bed and fell almost immediately into a deep sleep.
When she woke up, it was almost eleven. The house was quiet, so beautifully so that she was tempted to turn over and go back to sleep. She didn't though. She had been removed from the world for too long, she was anxious to get back to it.
Turning lazily in the comfortable bed, she rang for the maid. When the woman answered the call, Jane asked for toast, marmalade and coffee. For the first time in her life, she was able to appreciate the comforts of her home. Previously, she had taken them for granted.
Within minutes, the maid returned carrying a tray. Jane enjoyed eating and drinking from clean dishes again, enjoyed the flavor of good coffee, well brewed.
After breakfast, she walked to the bathroom and ran another tub. As it filled, she considered calling the maid to help her with the bath. She remembered that Carla had soft, gentle hands, that she knew no limitations when it came to bathing her. She felt her blood grow warm as she remembered previous sessions in the big tub. She remembered Carla's smooth hands spreading the rich lather over sensitive areas, forgetting the lather and continuing to stroke and rub, becoming even more intimate.
But not today, she decided. This time she would bathe alone, dress and try the trip to the country club that had been interrupted last time.
Twenty minutes later, she was in the garage. Already the big Lincoln had been washed and polished, but she didn't want to use it this time. Jane wasn't superstitious, but she still decided to use the low slung XKE instead.
This time she made it to the club without incident. If she had seen a car stalled on the road, she would have stepped on the pedal and flown by.
The same people were at the club and they were doing the same things. She stopped first at the bar for a drink. She didn't have to ask. The bartender offered her a cheery greeting, checked his watch and poured her a Bloody Mary. If it had been later, he would have poured a rye and water.
It was a good day for a round of golf. Through the window she saw a sprinkling of people on the course and another dozen chatting around the first tee as if trying to decide whether or not they had the energy to go out.
She finished her drink, picked up a rye and water and headed for the locker room. Although it seemed as though she had been away for years, nothing had changed there either. Sue Ellen, the full time lesbian was still walking around nude looking for someone to play with; Helen and Jean played what appeared to be the same game of gin rummy at the same table; Ruth was still looking for an audience to listen to how she almost made par yesterday except for the usual bad breaks. It was comforting somehow.
By the time she had changed into golfing togs, she already had a game arranged. She had been careful about whom she chose to play with today. After all she had been through, Jane was interested in a civilized, sophisticated orgy. When she heard Myra looking for a partner for a game, she knew that her answer was at hand.
On her last visit to Myra's lavish apartment, Jane had achieved a new high in her life of pleasure; she had been made love to a total of seven times in one wild evening. She didn't necessarily want to top that, but she wanted to come as close to it as possible with men who bathed and shaved and spoke English.
When Myra wondered where Jane had been lately, she was told that she would hear the story later. It wasn't a story to be wasted on a golf course, Jane decided, it required drinks, soft lights, congenial people and a background of loud jazz.
Before they putted out on the second green, Jane had made it clear that she was in the mood for a special kind of party. For a while after that, hints were dropped and swapped and felt out and fed back. While they waited to tee off on the fifth, the party was set for that evening at Myra's. Just to make sure that there was time enough to get everything planned, they agreed to call off the game after nine holes."
"After all," Myra reasoned, "when there's something so important to be planned, why mess around with silly little golf balls?"
Back in the club house, Myra adjourned to the lounge and began wearing out the phone. She spent almost an hour at it, but when she rejoined Jane in the locker room, she reported that this was going to be the party to end all parties. Knowing Myra, Jane was inclined to accept the promise.
When Myra threw what she called a quiet little party, there was a reasonable chance that it would turn out to be an orgy; when she boasted that a party was really going to swing, that was the tip-off that the ancient Romans at their best would have blushed if they had been included.
But Myra was living proof that these things don't just happen. During her apprenticeship, she had gone through three husbands, accumulated a little more than two hundred thousand dollars, enjoyed a lovely lesbian marriage and discovered that anything is possible and everything is fun. Having gained all this education, she was still just thirty-two years old and had a body that would have looked just right on a woman ten years younger.
Jane had spent a few evenings at Myra's apartment and each time had enjoyed it immensely. The first time, Myra had made a tentative pass within the first hour. Jane happened to be in the mood that evening, so she went along with it. She had not resisted as Myra eagerly stripped her naked and made reverent, passionate love to her lush young body. Jane still remembered it as her most satisfying experience with a woman.
On her other visits, the tone had been less serious. They still stripped before settling down for the evening, but the attitude was one of fun and games rather than the seriousness of lesbian love.
The pattern had changed on her last visit, a little less than a month ago. When she arrived, she found that Myra already had a female visitor. Her hostess was quick to inform her though that Zelda was a real swinger and that the three of them were going to have a ball.
Myra boasted an interesting collection of instruments which, when strapped on, could make any woman more than the equal of any man. As they romped naked that evening, they took turns being Joe the truck driver. Jane remembered that after that little session she had difficulty walking to her car. She was still sore the following day, but she had enjoyed some lovely memories.
But past was past and now Jane looked forward to a wild evening with sophisticated people, she needed that to reassure herself that people could be clean and civilized and still have fun. She had made the best of the Travers incident, but there were still a lot of memories of unclean, primitive people and unclean surroundings to be washed away.
They left the club early, agreed that it would be wise to get some sleep before the party. Much to her surprise, Jane slipped into a deep sleep without difficulty in spite of the exciting anticipation of the evening ahead.
She bathed and dressed, ate a light dinner and was ready to leave just after eight. Since her Dad did not seem to be around, she left him a note telling him that she may not be home that night, but that he was not to worry. She explained that it was just a party that could go on and on into the night. He was a very understanding daddy.
Jane arrived at the apartment a few minutes before eight-thirty. Although nothing Myra did really surprised her, it was still a bit of a jolt to see her hostess answer the door clad in bra, panties, garter belt, nylons and very high heeled black shoes.
"Myra," Jane quipped, "what a lovely hostess gown. Wherever did you get it?"
"Oh, just a simple little thing I picked up in some bargain basement."
This was an obvious untruth. There was nothing simple about the way Myra wore lingerie. The strapless black bra covered about half the area of her ripe breasts. The uncovered half promised ultimate magnificence.
Only relatively small areas of her buttocks peeked out around the edges of the panties, but they were enough to indicate a nice roundness, firm white flesh which contrasted nicely with the black nylon. About five or six inches of firm, white thigh showed between the lower edge of the panties and top of the sheer black nylons. It was just enough.
"Don't you think it would be an idea to get dressed before your guests come storming in?" Jane asked.
"Silly, I am dressed. After all, dear, this is a party. The dressing room for tonight is the spare bedroom. You are the one who had better get ready."
Jane walked into the indicated room. The first thing to meet her eyes was a large, hand painted sign which hung from the ceiling. She read it in growing amazement.
"Dress for this evening will be semi-formal."
"Hey, Myra, what is your conception of semi-formal around here?" Jane called.
"You've just seen it on me, dear," she heard Myra call back.
Jane hurried back to the living room. "Are you kidding?"
"Honey, when I stipulate informal, that means the guests start naked. Semi-formal is what I am wearing right now. I'm going to let this party start slow and easy."
Shaking her head, Jane walked back into the bedroom. When she returned to join Myra a couple of minutes later, her semi-formal ensemble consisted of pale blue bra, panties, garter belt, blue tinted nylons and high heels. She felt only a little nervous when a knock announced the first of the guests.
By nine o'clock, there were nine people on hand. The four women were dressed identically except for color, the men all wore briefs and smiles.
The full complement of guests was on hand within another twenty minutes, but Jane was still trying to get over the shock of the most recent arrivals.
"That must be Sam and his chick," Myra announced to the gathering as she moved to answer the door. "I haven't met her, but Sam guarantees she'll be the wildest item of the party."
As the couple entered, Jane ignored Sam almost completely. She was staring at his wild chick. It was Bunny.
There was only a brief lull in conversation as most of the guests knew mother and daughter.
"Janie dear," Bunny greeted her, "what a nice surprise." She embraced her daughter warmly.
A startled "Hi Bunny," was the best Jane could manage in her state of stunned surprise.
Bunny and her guests adjourned to the dressing room and the conversation level picked up again. It seemed that mother and daughter were going to go along with the party. The guests accepted it as a bonus conversation piece.
A few of the guests were smoking pot, but the majority chose conventional booze to set the mood of the evening. Regardless of method employed, the mood was quickly established.
Myra left her guests long enough to set up a movie screen at one end of the room and a projector at the other.
"Oh no," someone gasped, "not home movies. That's why I left home."
"Yes," Myra replied, "home movies. But don't be too sad dear, they are very educational and we do owe to ourselves and society to expose ourselves to educational things from time to time."
The laughter that greeted her brief speech indicated that her movies were known to the group and were not likely to be too dull.
As the guests settled around the center of the room, Myra killed the lights and flicked the projector. The screen leaped alive to show a routine looking domestic scene where a maid was bending to dust a low table. Her skirt was just a little shorter than normal and what it displayed as it rode up in back was of somewhat better than average quality.
When the woman of the house walked into the scene, she too was a beauty, although slightly older. She stopped to look at the maid, then walked quietly to her and slid her hand up under the skirt. When the maid straightened up with an angry look, the other woman flipped her skirt high over her brief panties and administered a half dozen spanks to her firm bottom.
The employer scolded the maid, then put her hand under the skirt again. There was no protest this time as the older woman led her to a couch. As the film rolled, the maid's clothes fell away until she lay naked, positioned so that nothing was hidden from the prying eye of the camera.
The other woman then undressed slowly until she too was naked. Sitting on the couch, she returned her attention to the maid. Within minutes, the two nude forms were writhing in the throes of completely abandoned lesbian passion. When it seemed that there was nothing left for them to do, a third character walked onto the screen.
This one was the husband. He took one look at the tangle of nude flesh and quickly stripped. The camera moved into close-up long enough to pay tribute to his dimensions which were considerable.
Moving to the couch, he untangled enough of the pile to find a nicely arched bottom. He drew it to him and moved in. The camera held for a long time as the male lead worked very, very hard.
When he finished his task with the first woman, he drew back, dumped her unceremoniously onto the couch and moved to the second female. Thanks to the magic of movies, his condition was undiminished as he demolished her with the same standard of magnificence.
As the projector whirred, the guests fell under the spell of what was unfolding on the screen. When Myra turned on the lights to remove the old reel and slip on a new one, her bra and panties were missing. A quick look around the room made it clear that her costume of nude flesh, garter belt, nylons and shoes was very much the fashion of the evening.
Again the lights were killed and the screen came to life. This time, a rather prim looking woman in her late thirties was the first figure to appear on the screen. She was standing beside a school desk as she spoke, scoldingly, to a half dozen teen-aged male students.
In spite of the primness of her face, her figure was a thing of splendor. Completing the scolding, she walked back to her desk, opened the drawer and removed the classic school strap. Sitting on the edge of her desk so that her dress hiked high over the tops of her nylons to dispaly lovely, firm looking thighs, she beckoned the first of the young men to her.
Nervously, he unfastened his belt and pushed his pants and shorts down until they fell in a heap at his feet. He was a very big boy. The teacher drew him across her lap, the strap rose and fell with obvious stinging effect.
One by one, the other males followed suit. When all six had been strapped, they stood semi-nude in front of the teacher, but not for long. As teacher leaned back on the desk, the first one was called to face her again. This time he knelt before her. He tossed away her discarded panties. This teacher was not so prim after all, she had some most unacademic ideas of punishment.
Before the film finished, the teacher and her students were all nude. The things that had transpired would never have been approved by the Board of Education. The audience surely did approve though. As the lights came back on, it was obvious that they were not only emulating what they had seen on the screen, they were improving far beyond it.
But, after all, there were eight men and only seven women in the group and none of them believed in strict pairings.
"All right everybody," Myra shouted above the buzz of activity, "time for the dice."
Most of the guests had attended her parties before so that they understood what she meant. They ranged into a wide circle and left room for the hostess who approached with six dice, a pencil and paper.
For the benefit of Jane, Bunny and Charlie, the newcomers to the group, Myra gave a quick rundown of the rules. High dice won absolute rights over low dice. If both winner and loser were of the same sex, the winner could choose to eliminate the low one and take next lowest. The loser had no such choice.
Sam threw first and came up with a count of thirty-two. He looked like a sure winner. When Myra threw a twenty-one it looked as though she could be low scorer. Her smile indicated that she was prepared to be a very good loser. Pete crossed her up by throwing a twenty. Sam was known as a man of very broad appetites, it was entirely possible, she realized, that he would claim the low victim regardless of sex. The other throws had no bearing on the final result.
Sam stood and walked into the center of the circle. "Come on Pete," he crowed, "let's go."
Pete blanched at the command, but he knew that at Myra's parties one didn't chicken out. Obeying orders, he knelt in the middle of the rug, circled by laughing, whispering guests who were enjoying his discomfort.
"Let's see now, Myra," Sam continued, "you were second low. You get down here beside Pete while I decide which way to take my prize."
Without a word, Myra moved to the center of the circle and knelt beside the man. Rubbing his hands and savoring the trill of victory, Sam stood beside the two nude figures who bent on hands and knees awaiting his decision.
There was a hush of anticipation as Sam dropped to his knees behind Pete, his hands fumbling at the arched buttocks. With a preparatory arching of his back, he braced for the lunge. At the last possible moment, he shifted his position so that his arms clasped around Myra's waist, his body slammed against her. He had chosen his prize. With a sigh of relief, Pete rolled away and joined the others in watching as Sam collected.
The prize collecting completed amid a chorus of rousing cheers, the group fell into a relaxed discussion based generally on the movie of the school teacher and the male student. In turn, the women described their experiences in seduction of the young, the men provided graphic descriptions of their early experiences with older women. A half hour later, while the conversation was still going strong, Myra called for another round of dice. There was a general scramble for the bar before the group settled back into a circle.
A couple of throws in the mid-twenties meant nothing. When Bunny threw a twenty-nine, there was a good chance that she could be the winner. The next throw was a twenty-seven so that when Jane took the dice, there was still plenty of room for a loser with Bunny still riding high. Jane felt a cold sweat as she prepared to throw. She didn't mind losing, in fact she looked forward to it, but not to Bunny. With an audible sigh of relief, she threw a twenty-five which assured her of being a spectator.
When Ava threw a twenty, it looked as if the game had produced a loser. The high and low scores held up so that Bunny claimed Ava as her prize. Before claiming her prize, Bunny took her time about finishing her drink.
Setting her glass down on the rug, she moved into the center of the circle and lay on her back. Her knees drew up and parted so that her choice of prize seemed more than obvious. As Ava approached, Bunny stopped her.
"Oh Ava, I believe there is a tray of rather interesting instruments on top of the bar. Bring it to me."
Without a word, Ava moved to the bar and returned with the tray. On it, ranged in order of size, was a collection of instruments which could transfer a woman into a man by the simple act of wrapping straps around the body and fastening the buckle. Taking her time, Bunny selected one of medium size. Kneeling, she fastened it around her body and looked down to admire her newly acquired maleness.
Satisfied, she motioned Ava to kneel in position. Moving with the confidence of a man, she positioned herself behind the loser, fumbled with her arched buttocks for a few moments, then pushed toward her, her hands wrapped around the young woman's middle. There was a brief gasp of pain, then the loser surrendered herself to the unnatural attack. Bunny moved with the hungry style of a greedy male. When she finally stopped, Ava was left with the feeling that she had been well used.
Myra won the next round and Jane was delighted to be the loser. On command, Jane lay flat on her back and watched as Myra knelt astride her and backed up until she was directly above. She saw the woman's body lower toward her. She met the fleshy charge and paid the forfeit. The fact that there was a group of mostly strangers watching didn't bother her at all; that her mother was one of the group only served to stimulate her. It was as if she felt impelled to prove to Bunny that she too was a swinger. As Myra bounced delightedly above her, her naked buttocks rocking with the passion of the moment, she proved her point beyond the faintest shadow of doubt.
When she felt Myra's body and thighs press and squeeze against her, Jane knew that the forfeit was about paid. She forgot about the difficulty of breathing. Instead, she worked with greater fervor, her tongue darted more insinuatingly, her fingers dug into the warm softness of curved buttocks. She felt the woman tense then fall limp, exhausted.
Myra dropped forward and supported herself on her hands above Jane. Her belly heaved as she pumped air into her body, her pendulous breasts hung full and ripe. The hush that had fallen over the group was a silent tribute to the efforts of the two women.
Jane got up slowly, flexed her arms and legs and walked to the bar. In a moment, Myra joined her.
"Whooee, baby," Myra enthused, "you are still the absolute best in the world Jane baby."
"Maybe I was just inspired," Jane smiled in reply. "Maybe I felt I had to excel."
"You did baby, and I'll bet my next ten alimony checks that mamma could take lessons from daughter."
As they laughed together, Jane silently glowed under the tribute. Somehow, she needed it. She had to know that she was not just Bunny's little girl, had to be sure that she could meet her mother on her own grounds.
When Bunny joined them at the bar, there was reluctant admiration showing in the smile she flashed at her daughter. When she spoke, the edge of sarcasm in her words was unmistakable.
"Congratulations, Jane, you have the technique of a real artist. You must have really worked at developing it."
"Thanks, mother dear. I felt I owed it to the family tradition to follow in your footsteps. I'm glad you approve."
Others moved toward the bar then and their conversation petered out. Both women dropped their guard and joined in the general conversation. There was no sign of animosity between mother and daughter as they chatted freely with the others.
When some, especially those who had neither won or lost, pressured Myra for another toss of dice, she complied. Hal was the first to leave the bar and hurry to the center of the room.
If he had become the center of attention, he didn't mind at all. He was, in fact, quite proud of it. He had borrowed a pair of black nylon panties, a garter belt and dark nylons. The only one of the group not naked, he employed an exaggerated feminine walk as he minced nervously around the room waiting for the others to take up their positions.
Jane threw first. Her twenty-three was a nothing roll. She was content to be a spectator this time. Like the others, she had enough voyeur in her to enjoy a ringside seat at a good show. Hal took the dice from her with shaking hands. He emitted a shriek of delight when the dice seemed to come to rest in a shower of fives and sixes. His score of thirty-three looked unbeatable.
The remainder of the group couldn't throw fast enough to please him. He showed disappointment when Charlie threw a twenty-four. Jane was still low with twenty-three. He held his breath as Sam took the dice. "Twenty" a couple of voices called in unison. Hal's face shone with pure, unadulterated joy.
When the round had been completed, Hal's score, was still high, Sam's was low. Sam would have preferred to have lost to a woman, but he didn't really care that much.
Hal minced into the center of the group. The exaggerated swing of his buttocks inside their nylon covering indicated his anxiousness to project his femininity to the ultimate.
He knelt on hands and knees in the center of the circle, his bottom twisting in anticipation. Sam was an old hand at Myra's parties, he knew what was expected.
Kneeling behind the man, he lowered the panties slowly over his buttocks, fumbled between them for a moment, then pushed ahead as he clutched at the bent hips.
Hal's scream of feminine outrage came as a jolt even to those who had been expecting it. Transported from the reality of the situation, Hal was a helpless female being ravished by the brutal man. He wasn't just playing a game now, he was living the role.
He begged and pleaded to be spared. As he did, his voice became more and more female until it was impossible to see him as anything but. Tears were rolling from his eyes now and the girlish cry became frighteningly real. The rape persisted for a long, long time, but his cries and pleas never stopped. Even when Sam backed away and pulled the nylon panties back into place, the victim still cried at the lost virginity.
As the group, uncomfortable now at the frightening reality of her performance, adjourned to the bar, Hal knelt up rubbing at the front of the panties. The veterans of Myra's parties knew that soon he would end his performance alone as he always did. They knew that after he did, he would return to normality. When he joined the group around the bar a few minutes later, he was naked again. One of the women would go home without her panties.
It was close to two o'clock before the climax of the evening happened. All had been waiting for it. All, including Jane and Bunny wondered what would happen when mother and daughter met in payment and collection of forfeit.
When it happened, there was a momentary hush, then a general buzz of excitement, of anticipation. They were veterans at these games, all of them, but it was the first time any had witnessed this situation.
Sensing the tension of the moment, Jane stood. Instead of moving into the center of the circle, she heightened the tension by walking slowly to the bar and refilling her glass. It was a tip to the group that this was going to be something to remember. There was a general movement to the bar as glasses were hurriedly refilled. When Jane saw that all had picked up their drinks, she walked casually to the center of the room and waited for Bunny to join her.
But if Jane was enjoying the moment of triumph, so was Bunny. If she was not really enjoying it, she was making a magnificent show of appearing to.
Still holding her glass, Jane was completely composed as she spoke.
"Hands and knees, Bunny."
The older woman placed her glass carefully on an end table and assumed the position as directed.
Taking another big drink from her glass before setting it down, Jane caught Myra's eye and motioned toward the tray which contained the selection of devices which could make her a man for the moment. Myra hurried to her carrying the indicated tray. Jane took her time about selecting one. Setting the tray down, Bunny took it from her and carefully fastened it into position. Ready now, Jane presented a startling challenge to nature.
The lush curves and mounds of her body spoke of the ultimate in femininity and gentle beauty. The artificially contrived device, on the other hand, reared with harsh masculine strength. So well had it been crafted, that it no longer appeared artificial. As Jane approached the kneeling figure, she was truly half man, half woman.
Taking her time, she knelt close to the waiting woman. Moving with surprising slowness and composure, she rubbed her hands lightly over the arched, full buttocks before her. Holding the woman around the hips, she moved closer, probed, felt the moment of penetration. Her hips moved with blinding speed, there was a blur of naked motion, then she was as close to the woman as it was possible to be.
A cry of pain escaped from Bunny's lips before she fell into the rhythm of the act. As Jane drove again and again toward the soft, writhing buttocks, she was all male, all brutality. This was primitive man taking primitive mate with the ultimate in greedy, brutal lust.
Not a sound was to be heard from the circle of watchers as the two played out their startling roles. Pain had long since passed for Bunny and had been replaced by the delicious sensation of being taken completely, roughly, wholly.
Jane too had been captured by the spirit of the situation. No longer was she performing for the group, no longer was she setting out to prove a point. She was a lust ridden animal performing the oldest ritual known to man or beast.
When Bunny's body tensed and rose in anticipation of the moment of release, Jane gripped her hips even more tightly, felt her fingers bury in the soft flesh of upper thighs. Her movements became more frenzied.
"Ah! Ah! Ah; Aaaaaaahhhh...." The sounds burst from Bunny's lips with an explosive force, then trailed away to a quiet sound of fulfillment, contentment, completion. Her body relaxed and began to fall. Jane released the grip on the woman's hips and let her go. She collapsed to the carpet, her body heaving as air forced its way into emptied lungs.
Without removing the instrument, Jane bent and helped Bunny to her feet. Together, they walked to the bar. The others followed. It had been planned as an all-night orgy, but it was obvious now that the party was over. After what had just happened, there was nothing left.
All drank greedily, all knew that it was the end of an exciting party.
"Are you going home now?" Bunny asked her daughter.
"Yes." Jane answered without particular inflection.
"If you brought your car, I'll join you. God knows, Sam's finished for the night and so am I."
Jane laughed. "It's out front, Bunny. I guess we've both had enough for one night.
As Jane stopped to thank Myra for the party, she saw Bunny talking to Sam. He did not seem at all disappointed. Mother and daughter dressed together, said their goodnights and walked out together.