“Father died of heart attack yesterday afternoon, (it read tersely). Solicitors say entire inheritance left to you. I'm disowned. Help! Deepest love, Richard.”
There was an address in the preamble to the telegram; a mews in South Kensington…
Lisa caught the evening jet to London. She carried no luggage. She even travelled in the clothes she had been wearing when the cable arrived!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
By any standards the party had been an outstanding success. Resplendent in dinner jacket and evening gown, Richard and Lisa stood by the open door of their lounge, bidding a polite farewell to the majority of their guests; accepting the accolades with graceful, well-mannered smiles-playing the perfect young host and hostess. The house in Surrey belonged to them now, since-although the property was in Lisa's name under the terms of their father's will-she had legally transferred half of her inheritance to her step-brother.
That dark depression, the black cloud which had been hanging over their heads since childhood-like a proverbial Sword of Damocles-was lifted with their father's death. Lisa and Richard were finally free. They could now live the lives which they desired, instead of the straight and narrow paths chosen for them by John Cunningham.
It had been a mere fortnight since their father's funeral, and they were still tasting the first reckless joys of liberty; gradually appreciating the fact that there was no longer a threat to their happiness, yet at times being unable to believe that they didn't have to conceal their physical passion for each other. Lisa had abandoned her Arab I friends-Ahmed, Mustafa, Darena and the others. Callously, she had decided that they were unsuitable for her new life; that their crazy philosophy and ludicrous schemes for a “peaceful revolution” didn't fit in at all with her future plans.
But Lisa had remained loyal to her more sophisticated Beirut lovers. Louis Chabrol, Candice Badel and Kathleen Wynter were brought over to England at her expense-merely to stay with them for a long weekend's “celebration”. And Richard's 'society' friends had also been invited to the party: Lisa refusing to entertain his hippie or drug-addicted acquaintances, chiefly because she was bored with the dreamy, passive nature of this group. She wanted to be surrounded by gay, extrovert lovers! The only members of her step-brother's clan who belonged to this category were Elizabeth Hayes, a girl named Gillian Sandell-who was supposedly related to one of England's leading pop stars and who had intrigued Lisa at their first brief meeting-and, by a slight margin of doubt: Spencer Prendergast!
These assorted and much-envied people formed the nucleus of the couple's private party. They were chatting together when Lisa and Richard re-entered the room, closing the door behind them and moving among their special guests; rather like prospective buyers at a cattle auction, selecting their favourites and running their eyes carefully over any new breed which they might have previously overlooked…
Lisa eventually settled herself beside Gillian, a rather plump, blue-eyed girl with fair hair that was cut too close for Lisa's tastes-though she responded warmly to the compliment which Gillian paid her: touching her own, almost waist-length tresses as the girl sighed that she would love to have such gorgeously long hair.
“I'm sure you make up for it in other ways,” Lisa reassured her. “For instance, your breasts are much fuller than mine! They stand out so firmly, don't they? Would you mind if I…?”
She put both hands on Gillian's bosom, pressing them into the ripe mounds and squeezing gently.
“I thought so!” Lisa exclaimed. “You don't even have to wear a bra! They're absolutely superb, Gillian!” The girl showed no embarrassment when Lisa kept her fingers on her titties, nor did she seem to resent this intimacy. Continuing to murmur flattering phrases, Lisa pursued her quarry. She slipped her fingers into the low hemline of Gillian's dress, delving them right over the fat flesh of the orbs and making the shoulder straps part with an ominous ripping sound.
“Oh, I'm terribly sorry!” Lisa apologized. But she made no attempt to remove her hands, instead lifting the girl's breasts and squeezing them softly. “Perhaps you'd better take it right off,” she suggested. “Naturally, I'll buy you a new gown…”
But there was a strange light in Gillian's eyes as Lisa pulled her forward-gripping her tits more tightly and using them to force the girl into a raised position so that she could slide out of her dress. She trembled as the gown fell to her waist, staring yearningly into Lisa's face while she wriggled her bottom and tugged the loosened material past her thighs and onto the floor at her feet.
“You-you won't make me do sexy things, will you?” Gillian whispered urgently. “I'll struggle if you try to seduce me! You'd have to tie me up before I submitted to your horrible caresses!”
She gasped out the last word as if it excited her merely to voice what was transparently her deep-felt desire. Lisa smiled, understanding perfectly well the kind of game Gillian wanted to play. Swiftly removing her own dress, she unhooked her brassiere and used the straps to tie the girl's wrists together: making an ineffective and purely symbolic bondage which Gillian could have easily broken had she so desired. But although the kinky young woman protested indignantly, she made no attempt to free herself; pretending to strain at the loosely-tied knots in the bra which kept her arms behind her back, yet clearly deriving a violent thrill from her mock-helplessness.
Lisa pushed her down on the settee and knelt menacingly across her scantily-clothed body. The two girls wore only panties now, their figures highlighted by a standard lamp which burned close to the settee; enabling Lisa to see that Gillian's black briefs were adorned by three pearl buttons-positioned sexily from the centre of the crotch, with the lowest button fastened across the girl's bulgy cunt-slit.
Slowly, Lisa rubbed her fingers up and down the unnecessary fastenings: pushing one of them gently into the space between the second and third button, feeling Gillian's wet quim trembling with liquid passion as she inserted her digit firmly into the hot, already spending vulva. The girl moaned and writhed, careful not to struggle too much in case she unwittingly freed her hands! And when Lisa stretched her other arm forward and started to tweak her nipples, a violent jerking took possession of Gillian's belly and loins. She thrust up and down with uncontained lust, driving her alleged tormentor's finger directly into the fleshiest part of her cunt-where Lisa tickled around and around… frigging the girl with the merciless passion which Gillian so obviously desired!
But the girls weren't left alone in their pleasure for more than a minute or two. Louis Chabrol had been watching them closely, and he appreciated the bondage fantasy which Gillian was enjoying. It appealed very-much to his own perverse nature, but a stimulating variation had occurred to him while he observed Lisa's fondling of the girl…
Unseen by Gillian, the Frenchman whispered his little plan into Lisa's ear; and when she smilingly assented, Chabrol stripped off his clothes, waited while his hostess swung herself off their intended victim's body-then deftly took Lisa's place on top of Gillian!
Before the girl could resist, Lisa had raised her shoulders up-sliding onto the settee at Gillian's side-and was cradling the plump blonde's head in her lap. The next moment, Gillian felt her arms being pinned in earnest: Lisa seizing her wrists and holding them in a half-nelson, rendering her truly helpless to Chabrol's advances! It was too late for Gillian to think of pressing her knees together. They were stretched widely apart by the man's thighs, and his hands-gripping like a vice into her fleshy calves-forced her legs to bend sharply; making a vulnerable target of her sex.
But although he could have penetrated the girl's cunt without difficulty (Gillian's panties were already sliding over her buttocks, and the moist, crimson slit peeped nakedly out from the disarrayed briefs), Chabrol had another orifice in view. He gazed down between her wide-open thighs and licked his lips at the sight of Gillian's partially exposed arse-cheeks-their chubby flesh curving in two ripe hemispheres which became more prominently visible as Chabrol urged the girl's legs into an even higher angle.
Her struggles were deadly serious now. Gillian fought urgently against the humiliation which lay ahead. It was all very well to be pinned and bound in fantasy-when you could easily escape if you wanted. But it was an entirely different matter to be forcibly raped…
Between them, however, Lisa and Chabrol easily restrained the girl. And to the accompaniment of a bloodcurdling scream from their hapless, betrayed young victim, Chabrol's arse-loving prick began to fuck stiffly and accurately into Gillian's anus!
While this drama was being enacted, Kathleen had shyly attempted to strike up a conversation with Spencer;
