other two, with her henna hair wound into a loose knot at her crown and a large red rose fastened at her ear. With each step, her pert breasts shimmied beneath a revealing, sequined pink gown held up by feathered straps that might slip down at any moment. All girlish charm and knowing coquetry, this one was, her blue eyes a-sparkle in a face as radiant as a debutante's.
'And this is Pink,' I breathed, knowing neither Billy nor I had a chance of pursuing any further strategies concerning Lucy Legg-if he even recalled who she was by now.
'That would be Miss Pink to you,' she twittered, sticking out her hand to be kissed. Thank God she'd already fed: her rosy glow told me she would be merely circling and sniffing at our boy tonight, rather than pouncing outright in that manners-be-damned way she had. 'I'm a woman of…many appetites, my sweet, and I can see you're a man who'd enjoy satisfying my…deepest needs. We Sisters of Samaria have devoted our very lives to providing food for the hungry, and clothes for the naked-'
'Not that you usually wear any!' Perfidia hissed.
'Well!' I interrupted with forced cheerfulness, 'if Mr. Tripplehorn's to have a fresh bed tonight, I'd best let Andrea know. I'll have her show you to your room immediately.'
Not that my implied warning would have any effect: the Three P's-Perfidia, Pandora and Pink, that is-were slowly circling my young guest as though it took all their effort not to lick their lips with obvious intent. I gave Billy a businesslike nod such as Alex Moore would, and then strode out of the parlor with its rising tides and temperatures to gather my thoughts; to make myself as alluring a female as I could before those three sultry vultures could snatch him away from me.
Dammit, all I'd ever wanted was a man of my own. Someone to love-or even a man who'd make me a slave to his desires-without those three bitches horning in on him! I surely deserved that, after all I'd done for these so- called Samaritans!
Yet as I entered my upstairs room and threw open my armoire, I had the sad, sinking suspicion I'd made a major mistake bringing Billy here. He didn't stand a chance against those ladies.
And neither did I.
Chapter 2: A Three-Way Tie
Off came my boots and the brown herringbone suit; off came the wig of male waves that lay tidier than Billy Tripplehorn's outrageous locks. Quickly I removed the theatrical makeup that darkened my jaw line and gave my slender face a more masculine aura-a look that had allowed me to practice law as Alex Moore for nearly ten years now, in the unsuspecting town of Redemption. When I stood naked at last, I took a long, assessing look in the cheval mirror beside my armoire.
A sigh of utter dejection escaped me. When I thought of Pandora's ample breasts and creamy skin, and that provocative way she had of displaying all her assets, I fell miserably short. The breasts I cupped filled my palms-but my hands were smaller than a man's, after all. Would Billy find me lacking? Less attractive than those three 'church ladies' circling him-or less enticing than Lucy Legg?
Best not to ask such questions, I reminded myself. My nipples pebbled beneath my palms as I recalled the sight of those two in the alley, rutting like dogs in heat. God, the nerve of them-the audacity of Lucy, to think she'd entrap Billy Tripplehorn and that he'd let her! But then, stranger things had happened in the heat of passion, and Billy himself admitted to thinking with his dick. Such things went on all the time in that repressive atmosphere of Redemption-which explained the need for the Sisters' orphanage. I was just too sheltered and shy to pursue such illicit passions myself.
Letting my hands flow farther down, I followed the line of my sides-the slightly curved indentation of my waist before my hips flared with the merest hint of femininity. Why hadn't God created me male, to save me years of anguish? Even at thirty-five-especially now, as I watched the three Sisters in action-I was so very aware that I lacked Pandora's lush curves and Perfidia's sleek, sophisticated carriage and Miss Pink's utterly unstudied way of playing the pretty little girl in grownup clothing.
My fingers tangled in the fine down between my thighs, and a trickle ran down my leg. I was still far too excited about bringing Billy off, and could still envision him pumping his cum over the front of the buggy: the repeated streams of shiny jism, shooting from a cock that filled my fist as I pumped it for him. Not to mention the clenching of my cunt muscles, until I climaxed against the seat and nearly gave myself away. He thought Alex Moore was a nancy-boy, and that was fine: he would keep his distance when we were together in public.
But now Andrea-the other half of the Alexandrea I'd been born-had to shine in a way that made Billy Tripplehorn stand up and take notice before her older, more practiced, more…lethal competition beat her to the punch. Our guest had whetted their appetites even before he arrived, for they had their ways of knowing who approached the mansion, just as they knew I intended Billy for myself. All the more reason to rub my little nose in their superior powers and experience, for they could be a cold, calculating trio who thrived on the suffering of others.
But I had to put aside their wiles and dubious intent. I had to concentrate on my own methods of driving Billy to a madness that would make him mine…if only for a night or two. No doubt in my mind he'd sniff out the details that didn't fit reality, in this picture of illicit domestic bliss those three ladies of the evening painted, and that he'd find a way to escape their plans.
At least I hoped he would.
Such thoughts pulsed dangerously through my veins, for I had lived with this set of circumstances all my life- had been spared my mortal, human existence because it served the Sisters' purposes. And just this once, dammit, I would pursue my own purposes! Just this once, the body I watched in the mirror would know the extreme, exquisite exhilaration of being filled to overflowing by a young stud who stirred me in such wondrous ways.
In my mind, it was my backside he was banging against, thrusting that long, thick cock into my hungry cunt as his weight held me naked against the wall. My fingers found the wet crevice between legs that parted of their own accord, and when my foot propped itself on the low stool nearby, I was a study in unrequited lust. Two fingers went up past the knuckles, to wiggle inside my hot, wet passage while my hand prodded my wet puss. With my other hand, I raised the padded mound to better expose my clit-both so I could watch it in the glass, and so it could get its share of attention in this very short time I could allot to my secret pleasure.
A rasp escaped me as the first waves of desire spread like ripples in a pond fed by hot springs. Here I stood, brazen as sin, fondling the pink pearl that peeked between my forked fingers while pumping myself like a woman possessed with my other hand-a hand that glistened with the wetness oozing out of my sex. My hips rocked, and I couldn't take my gaze away from quivering thighs and pearlescent dew trickling over my fingers-like tossing kerosene on a fire, it felt, as the heat inside me threatened to explode. Musk filled my room, along with my little panting noises, until I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming. In my mind, Billy was ramming himself so deep inside me I left the ground! My muscles clenched around his engorged cock, and with the first spasms of the hot cum he shot inside me, I was- 'Jesus-Jesus-Jesus-' I chanted hoarsely, my entire body enveloped by quakes that went on and on. For a few moments I had to stand there, hands still gripping my soft, heated flesh, allowing my legs to recover their strength before I dared step away.
I was a desperate woman, all right. The precious seconds I'd spent releasing my need now had to serve me again-so, on sudden inspiration, I took down my hair and ran my wet fingers through it, combing it into a disheveled disarray that smelled of my sex, hoping Billy's nose would lead him in my direction. Indeed, I dried my hands by wiping them on my neck and arms and any skin I thought he might come in contact with.
Then I grabbed my dressing gown of white cotton-not that I had others to choose from-out of the armoire, and tied it loosely over my nude body. The front gaped open in what I hoped was an enticing softness, inviting eyes to wish for more. I couldn't outdo my competition, so I had to win Billy with simple understatement. A foil to the provocative colors and obvious lust that Perfidia, Pandora, and the coy Miss Pink would ply him with.
Still I lacked allure. A quick flicker of the kohl stick to accentuate my hazel eyes…a smudge of rouge to create cheekbones in a squarish, bland face and to put roses in my narrow lips. The chiming of the grandfather clock downstairs reminded me I had no time to waste: seven stately tolls, and by the time the last one was fading away, I was padding down the back stairway barefoot. I wanted to look into the parlor before my presence was noticed, hoping something I saw would inspire a performance any prostitute could be proud of. I felt like a woman exhibiting
