whipped a pair of handcuffs out from behind her back and clipped my ex's wrists to the legs of the chair. Harry commandeered the sound system and it wasn't long before the raunchy sounds of 'The Stripper' filled the room. Boner scowled as the twins began to bump and grind, their tiny dresses (or miniscule shreds in Bambi's case) riding up over their broad, firm asses.
'Very funny. You know striptease does nothing for me, Jaylene. Never has done, never will.'
'Just you wait, Will, sweetie.'
Big boobs did nothing for Boner either. I recalled his joy when my hard work at the gym paid off to the extent of dropping a cup size. I was devastated, he almost danced a jig. I watched with satisfaction as Bambi expertly popped her tits out of the straining skintight bodice and squatted down to thrust them into my ex's face. He tried to avert his gaze but the Amazon grasped his grizzled head tightly in both hands and effortlessly thrust it between the big brown pillows of her breasts. Anyone but Boner would have been overjoyed to go that way, crushed beneath a mountain of firm, dusky boob flesh. There was a spluttering sound and he came up for air before being unceremoniously shoved back into the bouncy crevasse. Botti grinned and moved behind the victim's chair, then firmly clasped Boner's cranium as her sister stepped back a little, then began to tug at her skimpy panties. All eyes were fixed upon her as she slid the tiny G-string to her ankles then delicately stepped out of them. The music ground on and Bambi's hands strayed to her naked crotch, clearly visible beneath the hem of her dress. She was very wet, her labia as plump and moist as a dew-soaked tropical flower. Again and again, she squatted down before Boner, giving him a full frontal view of her hungry snatch. Her long painted talons teased her clit and she moaned loudly. Will sat upright and rigid, a look of utter horror and disgust on his face. For one moment, I almost felt sorry for him, then I remembered the voodoo doll business and my compassion dwindled. Time for some action.
'Pussy him, Bambi!'
With one big bump and grind, the groaning girl thrust her pussy against Boner's face and squirmed her hips up and down frantically. I could barely contain myself and cried out again.
'Ride his face!'
Bambi's broad brown buttocks worked furiously as her twin held my ex's head in a grip of steel. I watched him struggling violently, heard him grunt and gurgle, saw copious beads of sweat erupt from his forehead. Bambi continued to fuck his face with consummate glee, her tiny dress riding up to form nothing more than a broad shiny belt about her waist. Her boobs flopped heavily and rhythmically against her chest, she arched her spine and triumphantly yelled out a rousing climax. When she stepped back, Boner's face was wet, his eyes and mouth tightly closed. Pussy juice glistened from every corner of his face, forehead to chin to ear and ear. Revenge was sweet. Soon he would have to stop holding his breath and feminine essence would broach the barriers and conquer Boner Land.
'Thank you, darling. I needed that.'
I tucked a fifty-dollar note into Bambi's cleavage and left the room without a backward glance.
'I wonder what kind of a sentence they'll receive.'
Harry and I sat together on the deck of the Caribbean Conch, as it began its return journey to Fort Lauderdale with a substitute master at the helm. My partner shrugged.
'Gawd knows! I pity the judge. It'd certainly be fun to be a fly on the wall, 'though.'
I laughed as I watched the misty silhouette of the islands fade into the horizon.
'A literary cruise, indeed! We didn't attend a single lecture.'
'Neither we did. Quel dommage. So, do you still want a divorce, Shortie, or are you content to stay half- hitched to Sherlock Neptune?'
'I'm not sure, darling. Tell me – how did you know that Frippery had the fetishes?'
Harry smiled.
'No great powers of deduction involved there, I'm afraid. I simply saw the silly bint surreptitiously stuffing them down her catsuit. She was trying to get Boner to beg for a doggie biscuit.'
'I see. And what made you think they would reveal the truth so accurately?'
My husband looked thoughtful.
'I'm not sure. They were certainly potent. Remember the night we tried to throw them overboard? We were carried away, you and I, as if we were caught up in the eye of a storm. It was incredible but scary too. Somehow, I knew they'd get to the heart of the matter, one way or another.'
'I see.'
Quietly, I reached down and retrieved two familiar objects from my beach bag. Harry frowned.
'What on earth are you up to, Lawrence? Trying to get us killed again?'
I shook my head and passed Biggin and Elvira to my partner, feeling a deep tingling thrill electrify every cell of my body. I was quite getting into the fetish effect. Harry braced himself and I watched his hair begin to stir. If the fetishes were elicitors of truth, I would put them to the test. I chose my question with care.
'Do you love me, Harry Neptune?'
A brisk wind chased around the legs of our deck chairs and my husband's hair began to curl. He looked deep into my searching eyes.
'I love you, Jay Lawrence. Married or not, you're the girl for me.'
I pressed my case.
'The only girl, Harry?'
Harry's hair continued to twirl, Medusa fashion about his grinning face.
'Quit while you're ahead, Lawrence.'
I slapped my husband then kissed him deeply on the mouth.
'No divorce then, Mr. Neptune.'
'Connubial bliss, Miss Lawrence.'
We looked at one another and decided it was time for a good stiff drink…
The End
Trouble In Paradise
'Hey, shortie, there are a couple of topless bathers down there. Naked boobies bouncing around in the surf. Fancy heading down for a lech?'
I thought of giving my husband a disapproving look but libidinous curiosity got the better of me. He sat out on the balcony of our hotel room, a pair of pocket sized binoculars glued to his sunglasses and a conical distension in the front of his white linen shorts.
'Lovely brown boobies. Decent sized too. Much better than the usual fried eggs.'
I briefly toyed with the notion of forcibly wresting the optical equipment from Harry's face, then thought better of it. Shading my eyes with my hands, I squinted into the bright Tobago sunshine. Our hotel sat on a cliff top, overlooking a small beach fringed with giant palm trees. A Pepto Bismol pink palace, once the haunt of Hollywood starlets in the golden age of glamor, it now appeared to be favored by well-heeled senior citizens. I focused on the frothing waves steadily rolling in from the Atlantic, in which two girls and their male companions were gamely attempting to play catch the beach ball. One of Harry's hands strayed to his crotch.
'Damn that big palm tree. It's in just the wrong place, blocking the view. This will wake the Colonel up. Look, there he is, pretending to do the crossword in the Times. The randy old bugger'll have a heart attack!'
'Serve him right.'
My gaze strayed from the arousing but distant spectacle of wet, wobbling tit flesh to an elderly gentleman in a rather loud Hawaiian style shirt. I had taken a prolonged dip the previous afternoon during a refreshing rain shower, wearing a white cotton lace-up top. Somehow, the combined action of copious water and the powerful waves had managed to achieve a rather exciting off the shoulder transparent effect. Thoroughly refreshed, I strode magnificently up the beach a la Ursula Andress in Dr. No, to find a hyperventilating senior citizen lurking behind my sun-bed, libidinous intent oozing from every wrinkle. I do like older men but I draw the line at hearing aids and white knee length socks. Harry sighed.
'This place has gone downhill. It's high season, for God's sake! This hotel should be buzzing. Wait 'til I get my hands on that big Welsh oaf. He must think I've got one foot in the bloody grave.'
