giggly whispers and then pausing in some hidden nook for a hasty kiss or caress, getting homier with every passing minute. How we loved those late-night walks!
But with that kind of opportunity, even aside from the romantic setting, we simply couldn't settle for a few kisses and caresses on the way. The first such night set the pattern. All those hidden-nook stops had been fun, but the Moreau estate was dotted with a profusion of better hiding places. Alix led me to-one of them-darker and infinitely more secluded in a clump of trees out beyond the summerhouse. It was supposed to be for just a goodnight kiss, but somehow both of us had similar expectations of something more, something too precious to giggle about.
Nobody felt like giggling as she fell on her knees and ducked under the hem of my skirt, rocking it up with her slowly rising motion. There were vague little noises though, tiny fragments of sound, detached and incoherent. Her head was still moving upward, skirt and all, nuzzling into the quivery flesh of my thighs with moistly parted lips. The soft sounds stretched and strung together to become a continuous moan that hinted of some strange ecstasy and then resolved into recognizable meaning.
'Mmm… you smell so good… '
'Yeah? I'm glad you approve.'
I spoke the truth, sure enough, aware of how much perspiration my overworked body must have shed during the rehearsal. It was even noticeable in the contrast of the cool night air on my exposed skin. And yet Alix seemed to be sniffing and enjoying it, reveling in her own apparent intoxication. I caught a whiff myself, the hot sex wafting from between my legs, the hot cunt smell, all hot and sweaty and strong, picking up extra power from the thoroughly impregnated crotch of my damp panties. Maybe the stench wasn't really that bad, but I just couldn't see how anyone could go into raptures over it. Still, who was I to judge? It was all a matter of taste, even a stinky twat. Whatever turns you on…
Alix was getting kind of frustrated now, though. I could tell. Turned on but frustrated, unhappy about those panties of mine. For which I couldn't exactly blame her. The fit was snug and the fabric stout, a garment more serviceable than sexy, fine for the hard labor of a rehearsal but incongruous in this present situation. Like blue jeans at a formal dance. She was gnawing at the crotch now, trying to get it bunched over to one side. I could hear her panting and snorting down there, having a tough time of it, afraid to go too far without specific permission. A good slave, I had to admit, and deserving of a reward. Simple enough. All she wanted was my bare cunt to suck. But somehow that seemed rather ordinary to me, out of keeping with these extraordinary circumstances. Hmm. Whatever turns you on?
No! Whatever turns me on!
I did it all in one swift maneuver, shoving the panties down and whirling around to stick my ass in her face. She gasped and burrowed right into the crack, struggling to hold my leaning body upright and at the same time please me with her tongue. I wriggled a little and got comfortable like that, my buttocks parting to engulf her nose and cheeks and mouth, the wedge of her upturned face, soft but already quite steady. While that servile tongue of hers plugged my asshole to perfection and strived in its own squirmy way to heighten the pleasure all around. Just the thing to help me unwind after a rough rehearsal; wasn't I lucky to have such a slave? I doubted if the real Helen of Troy ever had it so good.
It was nice to see the party going so well. Alix's parents had practically forced her into it, a big party for the youngsters in honor of her cousin from California. They were only remotely related, actually-second or third cousins, something like that-but the guy bore the Moreau name and that made his visit important to this branch of the family. In their strata of society, sharing the same coat of-arms was reason enough fu make a fuss, no matter how much space separated them on the genealogy chart.
As for myself, the only objection I had to Boyd Moreau was the length of his visit. Alix had to entertain him, of course. a chore that just about precluded our locked-door bedroom romps and woodland glade back-to-nature outings. Even a week of that kind of enforced celibacy was more than my petted and pampered libido could tolerate. I just hoped we'd have a chance to get together in some private little corner while this dumb party was still lively enough to cover out' absence.
The prospect for that looked pretty good. Somebody had dumped booze into the punch bowl-vodka, no doubt, tasteless but potent-an accepted if seldom mentioned custom among members of our dear old Troy High senior class. No one would be walking out while the stuff lasted. So it was up to me to create my own opportunity. I had to convince Alix that her hostess-type duties also included being sweet to her forlorn best friend.
I bided my time awhile and then managed to edge in during a slack moment, whispering into her ear. 'Well, darling? Are you having fun at your own party?'
'Fun… ' She shivered, reacting to the heat of my breathy whisper. 'I-I guess so. It's a pretty good bunch, wouldn't you say? Boyd keeps wishing they would all go home, though. He wants to be alone with me.'
'Does he? Me too.'
'Huh? Oh. Silly… '
'Silly but lonesome. It's been so long. Let's sneak away for a few minutes, hmm? I'd say it's time you took a break.'
'Sue, how can we? There's nowhere to sneak tu.'
'The downstairs powder room is empty, I just checked. Doesn't your nose need powdering? Mine does. Come on, let's go. Just act casual and no one will even notice.'
Without giving her a chance to protest, I got us both moving in the right direction. Once inside the little half-bath, I locked the door and chuckled, all but bursting with triumph. She was mine now, mine alone, at least for the next few minutes. I had stolen the hostess away from her own party; what fun!
'We shouldn't. This is-'
'Hush. Nobody saw us. And if they did, so what? We're just powdering our pretty noses and catching up on all the gossip. Like, for instance, this cousin of yours, how come he's so anxious to get you alone? Is he trying to lay you?'
'Of course not. No, nothing like that. He's nice really, a gentleman, you know? My folks think he's the greatest thing since color television. They keep pushing-'
'Okay, okay. Alix, how much longer is he going to stay?'
'I'm not sure. Maybe another week.'
'A week? Shit! Oh well, I suppose you're stuck with him. But if that's so, every minute we're together is precious. If it's going to be a whole week, we ought to use what little time we have to say good-bye to each other.'
'Oh, it's not such a long-'
'Shhh. I'm going to say good-bye to you. With a kiss. Like this… ' I touched my mouth to her lips, exerting a slow pressure and a gentle thrust of my tongue into the opening. Her response was immediate, an explosion of breath that almost bowled me over with its intensity.
'There now… ' Smiling, I stepped away. 'Now it's your turn to say good-bye to me.'
'You-you mean the same as-'
'Come on, darling, you know how.'
'In here? We shouldn't even be-'
'You know how.' My smile faded. 'A goodbye kiss that will have to last us for a week. You know the kind that pleases me most, I'm sure. And it better be good.'
Alix dropped her gaze. 'But-but my dress. It will get all wrinkled and messy if I-'
'So you'll get it wrinkled. Mine too. Messy. And we'll be no different than the rest. Half the dresses out there are already stained with purple punch.' I shrugged and then turned abruptly fierce. 'What the hell are you waiting for? Get down there and suck my cunt!'
There was no reply. The dark eyes remained downcast. And then-like a sapling in the teeth of a gale-her slim figure bowed and sank. She looked up, her expression a mask of mingled anguish and adoration. A moment later I could no longer see her face. I sure felt it though, aided by her hands and mine as we collaborated on the problem of my panties. It began rubbing up and down then, nuzzling between the lips of my denuded cunt as if she had suddenly decided that the joy of a sexsmeared face far outweighed any possible embarrassment that might come afterward, out there among her guests. We both knew from experience that even a soap-and-water scrubbing sometimes failed to erase all the evidence. Especially the scent the often tenacious scent that could wreak all manner of mischief by setting a few nearby nostrils atwitch with its uniquely identifiable message. Good
