Rajah

stomach, the way her breasts spilled over the uplifting half-bra, the flimsy panties encasing the soft pulsating mound of her womanhood.

Lena slid to the floor, grasping the bottoms of the culottes and drawing them hurriedly down and off, so that Sharon now sat in nothing but the thin, filmy undergarments. With quick expertise, the evil older woman unfastened the bra snaps, pulling the garment away and allowing the rich, firm, milky white splendor of the American girl's breasts to be exposed to the lewd gaze of the Lord of Marlowe Manor, the exquisite nipples and aureoles distended and seeming to pulse as if with a life of their own atop the snowy hills. Then Lena's fingers dipped down to the band of Sharon's briefs, and as Mark gently guided the young girl's hips up off the couch, Lena drew the panties down and tossed them with the discarded culottes. Sharon Court, like Lena, was at last naked, completely defenseless with all her charms exposed before the hungrily devouring eyes of the two older people.

'How does it feel to be naked, Sharon dear?' Lena crooned into the young wife's ear. 'Isn't it lovely to be without those hot clothes? Isn't it nice to be as nude as I am?'

'Oh yes!' agreed Sharon mesmerically. She squirmed her body luxuriously on the cool leather of the couch. Oh it really was nice! her drugged mind thought. So lovely and nice… especially without those constricting bra and panties… her breasts felt so good and tingly, free, with the warmth of the fire trailing over them, bringing the nipples into almost painful hardness… and down between her legs, a throbbing ecstasy, an arousal she had not felt in a long time… her brain was spinning warmly, giddyingly, and she felt as if she were drunk, drunk on desire and passion… Neal, oh Neal, I wish you were here right now…

Lena intoned, 'You're comfortable, aren't you, Sharon? Nice and naked and not too hot and very comfortable, aren't you?'

'Yes, oh yes!'

'Fine,' Lena drawled insidiously, 'that's fine, dear. Now then, tell Lena what you saw when you entered the stone hut in the garden a little while ago.'

A small frown furrowed the young wife's forehead, as if the question didn't quite penetrate the fog of her spinning mind. Then she gave her head a tiny little shake, seeming to comprehend at last the sudden change in conversational direction, and said, 'What… what I saw?'

'Yes. What did you see, dear? Tell me what you saw.'

'The… the ape…' mumbled the young blonde girl.

'Yes — Rajah. But what else did you see, Sharon? Wasn't there something else you saw in the hut?'

'No… no…'

'Of course there was,' went on Lena soporifically, relentlessly. 'You remember, dear Sharon. There were some booklets, weren't there? Some booklets on the table…'

'Booklets,' Sharon repeated, and her marijuana and aphrodisia drugged mind repeated the word over and over again. She couldn't talk about those filthy, lewd things… she couldn't… and yet Lena was her friend and she felt so wonderful without her clothes, safe and warm and nice… and she was so naughtily excited, her pussy flowering her juices of passion forth — and the image of the photographs in the booklets, enticing and boldly obscene, made her vagina tingle even more with forbidden ardor…

'Tell me what you saw in the booklet, Sharon,' Lena whispered in her ear. 'You did see them, didn't you? You did look at them, didn't you?'

'Yes… yes… they were filthy… pornography…'

'What did they depict, Sharon?'

'Men… men and women… five of them… together…'

'What were they doing?'

'Ohhh… awful things, terrible things…'

'What kind of things?'

'No! I… I can't tell you…'

'Of course you can, dear,' Lena said, enjoying herself immensely now. Mark had told her about leaving the copies of Climax Illustrated in Rajah's hut, so that the innocent young woman would hopefully stumble on them — and she had, just as Mark had said she might. She continued, 'Just relax, dear, and tell Lena exactly what the people in the booklets were doing.'

'They… they were… oh God, they were making love and… and…'

'Yes? And what, Sharon? And what?'

'And kissing… kissing one another between the legs!' wailed the beauteous blonde wife piteously. 'There… there was this blonde girl and she… she… she had this huge Negro's… penis between her lips…'

'She was sucking him, wasn't she?' Lena crooned. 'She was sucking the Negro's cock, wasn't she, Sharon?'

'Lena!'

'Oh it's all right, dear, it's all right. It's just woman talk between us, you know. That's what she was doing, wasn't it? She was sucking him off, wasn't she?'

'Y-yes… yesss…'

Lena, her lips curled in a lascivious grin of delight, slid off the couch then and dropped onto her knees on the carpet before the fireplace. Only seconds before, the Lord of Marlowe Manor, now divest of his own clothes, had stretched out supine, his giant rock-hard cock jutting upward like a huge spear from his trembling loins. His legs were spread wide, and Lena crawled between them, kneeling with her head lowering almost to the tip of his great cock. She took the fleshy, palpitating instrument between her hands and began to rub it lightly with the palms, arousing the evil master of the baronial mansion to a fever pitch; it was all he could do to keep from moaning and writhing under her expert ministrations — but it wasn't time yet, not just yet… this had to be done just right in order to keep the young blonde American wife in her mesmerized state…

Lena turned her head and spoke up to Sharon, who was sitting in a dazed stupor with her legs slightly spread on the couch, the curling blonde hairs fringing her warm, wet pussy so provocatively presented to the feasting eyes of the lusting couple on the floor. The young wife's thighs rippled with desire, and her breasts rose and fell with her ragged breathing. Her eyes were still squeezed tightly shut, and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.

'The girl in the booklet was sucking a man's penis, Sharon,' Lena whispered. 'Sucking it hard and enjoying it, wasn't she?'

'Oohhhhh,' moaned the drugged, desire-ridden girl on the couch. 'Yes, yes, yes!'

'Have you ever done that to Neal, Sharon? Have you ever sucked him with your mouth?'

'Lena, don't… don't talk like that!'

'Have you, Sharon? Have you, my sweet?'

'I… I…'

'Tell me, now. Tell Lena, your friend.'

'I–I've only kissed the t-tip… only once or twice. It's… it's wrong…'

'No, it's wonderful. It's the most wonderful thing in the world, my dear girl.'

'No… no…'

'Oh yes, it's wonderful. I've been sucking cock for a long, long time now and it's wonderful, marvelous. I've been sucking Rodney's cock and I've been sucking Mark's too. I like the taste of Mark's cock, Sharon. It tastes so good… so good… so good…'

'No!' came the anguished wail of despair from Sharon Court. What was she hearing? Was this Lena, her friend, speaking to her this way? No… no… she was having another one of those awful, terrible nightmares like last night… yes that was it, a nightmare, a sex nightmare because her vagina ached with desire and her passion flowed hotly along her thighs, causing her to open and close them spasmodically.

'Yes, Sharon, oh yes. I'm going to suck Mark now, right here in this room, and you're going to watch me do it. You're going to watch, and then, after awhile, you're going to take my place, Sharon. You're going to suck Mark's cock, you're going to take it between those soft red lips of yours and suck him and suck him and suck him until he cums hot and sticky into your mouth and you swallow it into your belly…'

'No! Oh dear God above, no, no, NO!'

'Yes, Sharon, yes, you're becoming so excited now that you can't stand it… you're burning up with sexual fever and the sight of my mouth around Mark's cock will almost drive you mad with desire and lust… you're going to watch, Sharon, watch and then take my place… watch and take my place… watch and take my place…' On and on