Jean murmured drowsily in her sleep. Her unaccustomed sexual exercise had evidently tired her, and she lay with her head turned sideways on the pillow breathing deeply. Michael looked across at Monique.
The French girl's breast was still held loosely in Jean's hand, but she showed no sign of wanting to join her lesbian lover in sleep. Monique looked fresh and wide awake — her beautiful blue eyes regarding Michael with an expression of frank interest. She no longer seemed a quiet, shy little girl. The experiences she had gone through today must have brought the girl quickly through her adolescence and wrought an abrupt maturity in her character.
He leaned over Jean's slumbering body and drew his mouth close to hers. They kissed with their eyes open, and Monique's tongue crept between Michael's lips; stealing deliciously into his mouth and licking sensuously across its roof.
He cupped her other breast and gave it a friendly squeeze-then let the orb loll gently in the palm of his hand, supporting it with a soft caress of his fingers. Monique leaned towards him as they continued kissing, letting her hand stray as if by accident to the stiff erectness of his cock.
She stroked tenderly up and down it, using only the very tips of her fingers. Her gentle, coaxing touch filled Michael with an aching longing for the very young, very beautiful girl.
But at the same time it reminded him of his de* sire to play the part of a ruthless, terrible monarch: forcing both Monique and Jean to attend to his needs on pain of fearful punishment. He ended their kiss and started to whisper secretly in the girl's ear, finally bringing himself to voice his urgent need. When he had finished explaining to her in halting phrases what he wanted them to do, Michael steeled himself for Monique's refusal. For her mocking laughter, for her cold contempt…
For anything, in fact, but the girl's surprising agreement and willingness to do anything he asked of her!
“That sounds sexy!” Monique murmured. She rubbed her cheek against his. “We'd have to dress up, though, wouldn't we? I know — there are some old bangles and beads in the attic. I'll go and fetch them while you tell Jean what she must do. And we can wear your silk scarves… Oh, Michael! It's going to be so exciting!”
She kissed him quickly, then bounced off the bed, looking for all the world as if she was about to go and dress up for a fancy dress party!
Michael watched as she swiftly pulled her panties on — then stopped short, smiling ruefully down at herself and exclaiming: “Silly! I won't be needing these, will I? I'm going to wear a much sexier costume!”
Monique peeled them off again and posed proudly in front of him for a moment. Then she hurried out of the bedroom, leaving the door open behind her.
Jean had roused at the girl's voice and she now opened her eyes wide, looking at the empty space on the bed where Monique had been lying. “Where's she gone?” Jean asked Michael sleepily. “Did you tell her we wanted to be alone?”
“Not exactly”. Michael settled himself comfortably on the pillow, putting his hands behind his neck and stretching himself luxuriously. His prick hobbled stiffly and Jean ran her eyes over it, licking her lips in anticipation.
“Will she be back soon?”
“Yes — quite soon, darling. But I want you to get two of my silk scarves out of the drawer and go up to the attic with her: Monique will explain what we're going to do”.
Michael's voice was so matter-of-fact, so casual, that he might have been asking his wife to perform an ordinary household chore. His body seethed with a new-found confidence; he felt almost disconcertingly in full control of the situation.
“But, Michael — there's so much I want to tell you, darling! We've got so many things to discuss”.
“Later, Jean. We can talk as much as you like, but not now! Please — Monique is waiting for you”.
Reluctantly, Jean got up from the bed and adjusted her panties. She smoothed them out so that they once more resumed their function of concealing her sex. Michael smiled.
“You won't be needing those, darling!” he told her. “I think you'll find that Monique has a rather more interesting garment for you to wear!”
Jean stared at him, a frown beginning to crease her forehead. “The scarves?” she whispered. “Is that what we're going to put on?”
Michael nodded. “That's right, Jean. We're going to play a little game, just the three of us.” He ran his eyes leisurely over his wife's scantily-clad body. “You're going to be a slave, darling — a docile, obedient little slave-girl! You'd like that, wouldn't you, Jean?”
She trembled visibly. Her teeth chewed on her lower lip, sucking the corner of it into her mouth anxiously. “Michael — hasn't this gone far enough?” she ventured. “We can't go on; at least I can't! I must have been crazy to start such a thing! Let's put an end of it — please, darling!”
He smiled calmly at her. “As you said — you started it, Jean. And I'm afraid I don't want to stop, not just yet anyway!” He seemed amused by her obvious discomfort.
“I'm enjoying myself, darling. I'm having fun! What's the matter — aren't you?”
“Michael, we're being — I don't know — we're acting like irresponsible children instead of adults! We simply can't let this go any further.” She was getting panicky now, searching frantically for some reason why the menage a trois she had initiated should now be disbanded. “For one thing, it's not fair to Monique!” she blurted out. “That poor girl — she's scarcely older than Cathy — !”
Michael broke in on her irritably. “For God's sake, Jean. What the hell do you take me for? You have deliberately set out to excite me by pretending to have an affair with the girl — oh yes, please don't think I haven't seen through that little scheme! — and now that I've swallowed the bait you're starting to have cold feet!
“Well, if you imagine that I'll say: 'All right, darling, what we're doing is wrong — let's call the whole thing off you're crazy!”
He softened his voice. “Jean', he went on, more reasonably. “Can't you see what's happened? I know what you were trying to do when you let me catch Monique and yourself together…
“Well, it's worked, darling! I haven't felt so excited and close to you for years! Why break it up just when we're having such a wonderful time?
“Go on — go upstairs and make yourself ready. Monique will be wondering what's happened to you. I promise you we'll talk it all out later…” Michael leaned forward and gave Jean's hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked down at him doubtfully, then gave a small, uncertain nod.
“All right, Michael. If you're sure we're doing the right thing…”
“I'm sure”. He watched her as she walked slowly out of the room. Her bottom swung sexily under the tight panties, the cheeks sticking out boldly on either side of the cutaway silk.
He was alone. For a few minutes there was time to bathe in pleasurable anticipation of the joys ahead. Michael decided to have a cigarette while he waited for Jean and Monique to return. It would help to soothe his nerves, perhaps quieten the pounding of his heart.
As he inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs, he felt again that glorious sensation of freedom flowing through his body. No matter what finally developed from this lustful evening, he thought, one thing was certain: he would no longer have to search for a young and adaptive mistress.
She was right here in the house at this very moment — upstairs with his wife, changing herself into a voluptuous slave-girl!
Monique! Michael breathed her name out in a wraith of blue smoke. Monique! He ran his tongue sweetly around the word, savouring its exotic, sexy connotations.
Unwittingly, poor Jean had supplied him with the very girl he had yearned for. She had been right under his nose for the past three weeks and he had not so much as given her a second glance! Michael put his cigarette in the ashtray and let it burn down unheeded. He didn't really want to smoke. He rather enjoyed the quickening of his pulse, the way all his senses felt keen and sharp.
Poor Jean! he smiled again. He had to admit that he would never have thought her capable of such a crazy, desperate plot! Even now Michael could hardly credit the fact that his wife had arranged such an intriguing and daring scheme to reawaken his interest in her.
She must be quite desperate to risk such a blatant, obvious ploy; why, he might have reacted very differently for all she knew! Another man would probably have walked out on her for…
Michael stopped, his thoughts suddenly sticking in a groove. “For all she knew…” The phrase ticked irritatingly in his mind.
