The Panty Lovers
“Look, she’s in the bedroom and her face is as white as a sheet,” Jenifer told the executive urgently. “When I try to talk to her, all I get are mumbles!”
“Naturally,” commented Birindelli with elaborate disinterest. “Perfectly normal.”
“Perfectly normal?” repeated the blonde model in amazement. “You told us that this LaFarge creep has funny tastes and you’re counting on Ann and me to help sell him, which means she has to satisfy some of those funny tastes. With me, it’s okay. I like almost anything as long as it doesn’t hurt, but Ann…”
“... is different,” Birindelli finished the statement for her.
“That’s right. So different that what you told us about LaFarge’s sex life has got her about ready to faint.”
“Precisely. Now Jenifer, when I look into your beautiful blue eyes, do you know what I see?” the advertising man inquired smoothly.
“Mr. Birindelli, you know I’m available, but is this any time to get romantic?” replied the tall slender girl patiently.
“Jenifer, I have never been less romantic in my life. I am thinking about a million dollars and how to get my hands on it. Now, as I was saying, when I look into your eyes I see things which delight me personally: sensuality, worldliness, uninhibited lust and, as you said, availability. That turns me on, but then not all men are built the way I am. A great many, like our friend LaFarge for example, want a woman who resists, a woman who has to be forced into submission, beaten, whipped if necessary. In short, LaFarge wants an innocent young girl to corrupt and I’m betting a million dollars that he’s going to go wild over Ann…”
“You think Ann will be willing to do what LaFarge wants?” questioned the model anxiously.
“Of course not,” snapped the executive. “But he’ll make her do what he wants, by force, probably, and she will resist, probably, and then give in, probably. And if all of these probablies come true, I will be in that little room to photograph the results and we will have our fine French bastard by the balls.”
“Assuming that everything goes according to plan…”
“Let’s not assume, Jenifer,” shot Birindelli coldly. “That’s why you’re there, to make sure everything goes according to plan. You’re my floor manager, and besides LaFarge likes to double his fun with a couple of girls at the same time.”
“Okay, okay, but what’s to prevent Ann from deciding she doesn’t want to play ball with us at all and simply walking out?”
The burly corporation executive uttered a low sinister chuckle. “Her hubby has been cooperating with us beautifully by buying everything in sight on the expectation that her nice fat salary will continue. I checked their credit rating the other day and found that they’ve gotten themselves into debt up to their ears. No, our little Miss Ann Larkin is not going to take a walk on us. She’s trapped and I think she knows it!”
Ann tossed back one last whiskey as she heard the doorbell ring and then went quickly to the bathroom to rinse out the glass as Birindelli called from the livingroom that he would answer the door.
She had been drinking a lot in the past few days, but it was the only way she could face the terrible situation in which she found herself. She had discovered that everything went more smoothly if she was a little bit drunk and no one seemed to notice, not even Frank, so she kept on drinking even though she knew full well that this was the coward’s way out of her problems.
“Ah, Jacques,” she heard Birindelli say warmly. “How good to see you again! So glad you could take an evening off to stop by. Come in and have a drink. The girls’ll be out in a minute.”
Ann Larkin took one last look in the mirror before going out to meet the Frenchman “with strange tastes”. She had done a lot of crying in the course of the afternoon but Jenifer had started feeding her whiskey about two hours ago and had done such an expert job on her make-up that she now looked fresh and bright and there was no trace of tears on her cheeks.
Besides crying, she had done a lot of thinking that day and had examined all the possibilities, coming up against the same blank wall no matter which way she turned. Birindelli had her, financially and every other way and there was no escape. He had used her once with enormous success on poor old Mr. Benson. And he would use her again and again, altering the scene as necessary, but always keeping the last act the same.
And now she was expected to perform for this French monster who was supposed to like all sorts of weird tricks. Well, there were limits, she decided, a little drunkenly, to how far she could be pushed. She would get into bed with LaFarge and he could make love to her if he wanted, but the acrobatics were out.
“Are you ready, honey?” asked Jenifer, shooting her a worried look. “I think our boyfriend has arrived.” Both women were wearing extremely low-cut, tight-fitting dresses which showed off their supple, young bodies to the best advantage. Underneath, naturally, they were both wearing Wonder-Wear underwear.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Ann replied, trying to smile. “We’re going to sell some panties tonight!”
Ann had been expecting someone big and menacing, but in fact, Jacques LaFarge was a slight, slender man in his late thirties. He possessed a typical Frenchman’s face: hawk nose and prominent chin, dominated by deep set melancholy eyes which flashed cynically around the room.
“Enchante,” he declared, shaking hands with Ann and devouring her scantily-attired body with his gaze. Jenifer served drinks from the bar, chatting merrily and keeping the conversation rolling. Ann noticed that she had been given a double whiskey but decided that she might as well drink it. The more booze she had in her, the less she would feel later on.
“Well, business before pleasure, as you Americans say,” suggested LaFarge, with only a trace of a French accent in his spoken English. “I keep hearing about Wonder-Wear’s new Pink Cloud line. Are these delightful young ladies going to model it for me?”
“Of course,” agreed Birindelli immediately, nodding to Ann and Jenifer.
“We’re wearing the bra-and-panty combination right now,” offered Jenifer helpfully. “Would you like to start with that?”
“Very much,” LaFarge drawled with a touch of irritation in his voice. “But I find it difficult to see through your dresses.”
Ann kept one eye on Jenifer, waiting to see what her girlfriend was going to do. Her own mind was already a little fogged with the whiskey and she was not sure whether it would be good manners to return to her bedroom to undress or not.
But Jenifer solved the problem by grinning directly at the French fashion expert and beginning to undo the buttons on her party dress. Suddenly an even better idea popped into Ann’s head. She gathered her long brown hair in her hands and turned her back on LaFarge.
“Would you mind undoing me?” she asked with simulated innocence. The Frenchman laughed lasciviously and drew the zipper all the way down to the base of her spine, making sure that his fingers touched the tops of her buttocks. Birindelli, standing off to one side, winked at her covertly and she knew she had scored a point or two already. The lithe young model stepped out of the dress gracefully and turned to face the fashion designer without any embarrassment or fear. If nothing else, the experiences of the past few days had taught her not to be shy about her body in front of strange men.
“Hmmmmm,” he muttered, looking the two girls over carefully. “Interesting construction of this brassiere. I don’t see exactly how it supports this young woman’s breasts the way it does.”
He ran his fingers over the surface of Ann’s bra, checking the tension on the straps and Ann felt her nipples begin to tighten involuntarily.
“It doesn’t,” explained Birindelli easily. “It just holds her tits in place. The Pink Cloud is as close as you can get to going naked.”
“Oh, come now, Birindelli,” sneered the Frenchman, “if the bra weren’t holding her tits up, they’d be sagging down around her belly-button!”
Jenifer settled the argument in her usual practical efficient manner by stepping quickly behind Ann and undoing the flimsy brassiere. She lifted it casually off her friend’s body with a smile. Ann’s breasts stayed firmly where they were while LaFarge did an exaggerated double-take.
“My apologies,” he said, making a low mocking bow, “I underestimated you.” There was a general round of laughter and Birindelli proposed another set of drinks, asking Ann to get the bottle and give them each a refill. Without putting her bra back on, the brown-haired model did as she was told, pouring herself another double-whiskey and discovering that there was a tingling sexy sensation involved with walking around almost naked in a room with two fully-dressed men.
When she handed him his drink, LaFarge patted the seat next to him and ordered her to sit down while Jenifer modeled a few more Wonder-Wear products.
By ten o’clock, everybody was just a tiny bit smashed, particularly Ann, and Birindelli opened another bottle of his best Scotch and sent Jenifer for more ice. All four had long since given up the pretense that they were there to conduct a modeling session and the two girls had now both shed their Pink Cloud brassieres and were wearing only their nearly transparent panties when Birindelli glanced casually at his watch and “remembered” another appointment.
“Really am sorry, Jacques,” he said jokingly, “to run off and leave you alone and helpless with these two broads, but duty calls.”
“Quite,” remarked the European blandly, who had been wondering if Birindelli would ever get lost and leave him to his own devices.
“Well, I’ll be talking to you in the morning,” said the advertising executive, slipping his jacket on.
“Possibly,” replied LaFarge, not committing himself, and Birindelli left. There was a moment of mild tension when the three of them were finally left alone. Of course, both girls knew that their boss had simply ducked into the concealed room and would be watching — and photographing — everything which happened from that moment on. The thought made Ann nervous, despite the quantity of whiskey she had consumed, and she had to remind herself not to look at the mirror over the fireplace, behind which Birindelli lurked, camera in hand.
“Well, isn’t this cozy? One Frenchman and two naked little girls. Or I should say almost naked girls,” he added, pointing to Ann’s panties. “But they’re nice. I get hotter with a girl when she leaves her panties on.”
“All right,” Ann agreed, attempting to sound casual and glancing quickly at Jenifer for reassurance. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never felt so naked in the presence of another woman before and the idea gave her a moment’s nervousness, but she was in this too deep to back out now. Jenifer had rolled her panties down a little on her hips to make them more sensuous and was pouring them all another drink. Ann inhaled sharply and then also rolled her last remaining garment a little lower too, down her tantalizingly smooth buttocks, while LaFarge looked on appreciatively.
“Well now,” he said, smiling lustfully as the buxom young woman stood almost naked before him. “I gather you’ve been told what I like. Why don’t you get down to business?”
Ann made no move, suddenly paralyzed by uncertainty. How could she explain that there were some things she could not do, not even if she wanted to? He would have to understand, she was new at this business… it was not easy… and he was so abrupt and brutal about it, not even bothering with her feelings.
“Hey,” he called, his voice soft and menacing. “You’re off in your own little world! Come on over here, little American girl, and stand real close so I can touch you. You too, blondie.”
The two women approached him, one on either side of the chair, glancing at each other nervously. Jacques LaFarge looked from one to the other, smiling with deep sinister satisfaction as he noted the apprehension displayed by the dark-haired girl. It too genuine and sincere to be false, he decided, reaching up to touch her. This Venus-shaped creature was really terrified out of her mind!
The other girl would have her uses as well, the depraved Frenchman realized as he studied Jenifer’s long willowy body, because she obviously had plenty of experience and could be counted on to do what she was told. But it was the unwilling and reluctant innocent who really turned him on. He switched his attention back to the shorter of the two women, stretching out one arm languidly and playing with Ann’s swollen and trembling breasts while he casually smoked a cigarette.
“Hey, little Miss Larkin,” he said in the same insulting tone of voice. “Why don’t you get right down here so we can be comfortable. That’s right, honey, between my knees… Blondie, you just stand by, because I’ll be getting to you in a minute.”
Ann’s body had already begun to tremble with fear, but she obeyed without question, her head spinning with the liquor she had consumed. She would do it if she could, she resolved drunkenly. Everything was riding on her now and she had to force herself to go through with it…
“Open up the barn door,” LaFarge grinned broadly, “and we’ll see if the horse has escaped.”
Ann’s hands were shaking badly, so she took a quick sip of her drink before going ahead, managing to unfasten the Frenchman’s fly and draw down the zipper while Jenifer perched on the arm of his chair and allowed him to play with her firmly rounding young breasts.
“Now take my cock out, baby. Let’s have a look at the basic equipment for our evening’s entertainment.”
The Frenchman obligingly raised himself up in the chair to allow Ann to draw his pants down over his hips, exposing a small, flaccid penis nestled in the reddish-brown pubic hair of his loins. To delay a little longer, she fussed over him, pulling off his shoes and socks and removing his pants entirely. But as she looked at his cock, she knew already that she could never do what he wanted her to.
“Okay, baby, you get the picture,” he snarled, suddenly in a hurry. “Get your pretty mouth down there around it and let’s see those lips go to work!”
“I can’t!” she said faintly, so frightened that the words caught in her throat.
“Let me, Jacques,” offered Jenifer immediately, trying to avoid a clash of wills between LaFarge and her friend. “She’s a little new at this and it takes awhile to get warmed up…”
“Shut up, you bitch,” snapped the Frenchman angrily, never shifting his eyes from Ann’s tear-streaked face. “What do you mean by telling me you can’t?” he asked Ann cruelly, leaning forward and running his fingers harshly through her hair. “When Jacques LaFarge tells a woman to do something, she does it! Do you understand? Now put that cock in your mouth and start sucking!”
“I understand… but I just can’t do it, Mr. LaFarge,” Ann wept in despair, knowing that Mr. Birindelli was witnessing her refusal to carry out a client’s order and would certainly fire her the moment he got the opportunity.
Suddenly LaFarge yanked Ann’s soft brown hair forward, dragging her head forcibly into his loin and holding her face directly against his twitching squirming cock. With his free hand, the Frenchman reached down and carefully slipped the belt off of his pants, curling it menacingly around his fist.
“All right, little girl, let’s see if we can’t change your mind,” he spat at her as the belt suddenly whirled through the air and crackled against her panty covered left buttock, exposed and vulnerable because of the abnormal position her body had been forced into. Ann saw the blow coming and tried not to scream when it landed, but the sting was too great.
“Oooooogh!” she moaned, jerking her body forward to escape the pain, despite the fact that this action only drove her face harder against the Frenchman’s stirring penis. Now her lips were resting directly against the soft unerected flesh she wanted so badly to avoid.
“When I feel that tongue go to work,” LaFarge told her, lifting his arm for another stroke, “I’ll stop hitting. And not before!”
Ann gritted her teeth, determined to let him beat her to death rather than yield. If she submitted to this depraved and merciless Frenchman, part of her would be destroyed. She would be soiled, forever dirtied, never again worthy to return to her husband’s bed. But LaFarge’s arm descended powerfully and another piteous cry broke forth involuntarily from the lips of the inexperienced young woman as he left an ugly red mark the length of her back.
“Oh, please, no,” she begged and as she spoke, her lips brushed accidentally against the soft smooth male-tasting tip of his cock. She felt it stir like a snake and grow slightly larger as the French fashion designer became aroused by the sordid scene before him.
Deep inside, Jacques LaFarge had always been a sadist. Since his very first boyish experiences with the weaker sex, he had enjoyed forcing women to do his will, degrading and humiliating them whenever he could get a girl in his power. For him, even sex itself was not as enjoyable as the pleasure of tormenting a pretty and preferably innocent young girl into some unnatural act which she would find offensive and disgusting.
“Open your mouth. I said,” he ordered again, bringing the belt down even harder on the girl’s smooth unresisting back. Ann groaned once more but kept her teeth tightly clenched. LaFarge grinned at Jenifer who was still sitting next to him, wincing whenever thrash fell across her girlfriend’s tender white skin.
“Now, you wouldn’t give me a hard time like this, would you, blondie?” he asked mockingly.
“No… why don’t you give me a chance to prove it?” she replied invitingly, wiggling her breasts lasciviously at him, obviously trying to salvage something from this terrible situation and save Ann from the beating she was receiving.
“You’re too anxious, you little whore,” he taunted her insultingly. “I’ll take care of you as soon as I figure out what you don’t like.” And with that, he brought the belt down again even harder on Ann’s fearfully quivering buttocks.
The scared young brunette knew she could not hold out much longer. LaFarge was pulling viciously on her hair, inexorably forcing her face against his swelling cock, and the pain he was inflicting on her smooth, delicate skin was almost unbearable. The slender Frenchman was wiry and muscular and Ann saw clearly that there was no chance of her breaking away by force. She also guessed that LaFarge was enjoying delivering this cruel and heartless beating and would be quite happy to go on hitting her for the remainder of the evening if she continued to defy him.
The belt descended again, harder than before, and Ann jerked forward violently, stung by the pain and opening her mouth to cry out in agony. But immediately LaFarge’s fingers were busy at her lips, forcing the head of his cock-now hard and firmly erect — into her suddenly open mouth, while his other hand held her head tightly in place. Ann groaned with revulsion and tried to back away from him, but the hand in her hair was too strong and she could not move. She did not dare to bite this important client’s fingers as they roughly invaded her mouth, and when she gasped for breath, the deed was done and his broad thick cock slithered snake-like up into her moist, dark mouth.
His penis was now fully aroused and throbbing massively, reaching all the way into the back of her tender, white throat, tickling her and making her gag. LaFarge’s hands held her head in a vise-like grip and Ann realized immediately that there was no hope of escape. The man was much too strong for her.
“There we are, little lady. Isn’t that better than having your ass beaten off? Now start sucking, baby!”
Ann’s dazed eyes focused on the long, hard cock emerging from the obscene clump of pubic hair at its broad base and disappearing from her field of vision as it stretched all the way past her parted lips and into her mouth. Now her humiliation and degradation were complete. There was nothing lower and more shameful than this. The absolute bottom had been reached and all the scared young brunette could think of was the possibility that he might start whipping her again. She could take anything but that. Thank God for the whiskey, she thought. Sober, I would just die.
“Suck, suck, suck!” LaFarge commanded from high above her and the brightened brown-haired girl began to do as she was told, her lips nibbling tentatively on the Frenchman’s hugely swollen cock-head while she tried to accustom herself to this lewd and unnatural invasion of her mouth. Trying desperately not to think about what she was doing, Ann started applying more pressure on his lustfully jerking cock, taking him into her as if he were bitter medicine of some kind.
LaFarge began to slowly undulate his hips back and forth, thrusting gently in and out of her reluctantly sucking mouth, but never quite withdrawing all the way, so that the tip of his bulging instrument of torture always remained just barely within the barrier of her teeth.
It’s not as bad as all that, Ann told herself as the Frenchman sawed rhythmically in and out of her softly nibbling mouth. I guess it wasn’t worth the beating, especially since I wound up doing it anyway. Or maybe that’s the whiskey talking.
The taste was slightly bitter and strong, but the man was clean and the smell was surprisingly pleasant. The rubbery blood-filled head of his cock glided smoothly across the surface of her tongue without opposition, and Ann gradually found herself liking the lewd sensation it created.
“Come on, baby, put some heart into it!” LaFarge ordered her from above. “This is a famous cock you’re sucking. Show some enthusiasm!”
Oh, God, there’s nothing else I can do! I have to please him or he’ll half kill me! thought Ann, her anger starting to edge out the fear inside her.
She enticingly ran her hands up his hard muscular legs. Her fingers found their way to his heavily swinging testicles and she began to squeeze them lightly in time with his deep thrusts up into her lewdly sucking mouth. At the same time, the young model clamped down even harder on the Frenchman’s desire-stiffened cock, her lips forming a tight elastic circle around it. With her agile tongue, she began to torment the lust-swollen sperm-filled gland of his penis, lashing back and forth across the tip and arousing him to greater and greater heights of excitement.
Christ, she’s really turning on now, thought the depraved European fashion designer as he looked down at the young model’s lewdly bobbing head and watched his massively throbbing cock appearing and disappearing between Ann’s glistening red lips.
To excite himself even further, the Frenchman pulled the supple and willing Jenifer down across his chest and forced her to kiss him while he played with her full, firmly formed breasts, with an occasional feel down beneath her panties to the girl’s moistly curling triangle of blonde pussy hair. Whenever Ann opened her eyes, all she could see was her girlfriend’s taut well-rounded buttocks suspended a few inches from her face. LaFarge continued to rock back and forth with his hips, fucking brutally up into Ann’s cruelly-stretched mouth, and at the same time thrusting his lewdly searching middle finger up inside Jenifer’s steaming vaginal passage, causing the tall willowy blonde to moan low and sensually as he crudely manhandled the soft fleshy folds of her cunt.
Behind the mirror over the fireplace, Birindelli loaded another roll of film into the camera, smiling with the deepest satisfaction. The oldest son of a notorious Mafia leader, the vice president for sales and promotion had learned this and many other criminal tricks at his father’s knee. But it never would have worked without these two girls, he reminded himself, giving credit where credit was due. Both of them were carrying on magnificently and he already had enough compromising photographs to blackmail LaFarge into signing contracts for many a year.
Christ! he cursed happily under his breath, look at that girl suck! She’s eating him like they were going to pass a law against it tomorrow! I got to get me some of that good stuff first thing in the morning, he promised himself, just as soon as I get that French bastard’s signature on the dotted line.
From where Birindelli was concealed, he could see all the action perfectly and the scene could not have been better arranged had a professional director appeared on the set and organized everything for the filming of a men’s smoker. The entire profile of Ann’s statuesque body had already been photographed as she bent over LaFarge’s reclining form, her heavy sensuous breasts jiggling back and forth as she performed the unnatural sex act. Above her, the camera’s eye had clearly traced the Frenchman’s hand as he manipulated the moist hair-covered flesh of Jenifer’s cant, causing the girl to shiver and tremble as he deliberately whipped her into a maddening frenzy of sexual excitement.
Ann’s mouth was gradually filling with saliva, made slightly sticky by the emanations of white fluid which were seeping from the tip of LaFarge’s long, hard cock. As she worked over him slave-like, Ann realized drunkenly that she was more disappointed than anything else. She had spent the entire afternoon working up the courage to sleep with this man and now she was reduced to giving him all the pleasure and getting very little back for herself. Secretly she had been dreaming about going to bed with him and being driven into a screaming passion as she had with Mr. Benson. As it was, the very perversity of their actions was exciting her tremendously, and when she had satisfied him, there was no guarantee that he would take the trouble to satisfy her.
LaFarge seemed to have very little concern for anyone’s pleasure but his own. Freeing his hands from Jenifer, the Frenchman ran his long sensuous fingers into Ann’s hair and began to force her head up and down more violently on his hotly thrusting cock, precisely as if her delicate mouth were just another cant into which he could spew his vile animalistic lusts. Ann could feel his murderous instrument swelling and expanding even more inside her mouth until there was virtually no room left for anything else. Choking and gasping for breath as his lust-maddened penis plunged into the back of her throat, Ann slavered bravely over him, not daring to admit defeat. She knew that she had never in her entire life been so abused and debased and she sucked even harder, sensing that LaFarge was close to an orgasm and wanting to end the humiliation as quickly as possible.
Her cock-filled face contorted with the strain, Ann closed her eyes and concentrated on her job as the Frenchman’s heavy sperm-bloated balls beat a steady rhythm against her chin and saliva overflowed from her mouth and dripped to her heaving but neglected breasts swinging lewdly down below. She wished she could take a two-minute break to get another drink, knowing that she had to stay drunk if she wanted to get through the evening, but naturally this was impossible so she re-doubled her efforts to make the eccentric fashion designer cum.
LaFarge seemed to sense the change in the brown-haired model’s attitude and knew he could not hold out much longer against that kind of intense pressure. Bizarre, obscene images and fantasies danced through his mind as he felt the tension in his loins building to an impossible level and he tightened his grip on the girl’s head, wanting to make sure that she did not twist away and ruin everything for him when he started to cum, wanting to make the humiliation complete by watching her swallow every drop of his hot, sticky sperm.
There was a ringing and pounding in the Frenchman’s head as the flow of sperm-filled liquid began high up in his balls, as the muscles in his abdomen suddenly went tight, contracting and forcing the fluid through its narrow channel, around and down and out the tip of his penis in a fine powerful spray.
Into Ann’s mouth and far back down her throat!
His last violent thrust went deep, all the way to the back of her tonsils and he held it there as he came. She could feel the terrible force of his orgasm on the roof of her mouth, on her tongue, in her cheeks, everywhere, as the sperm came out in a white-hot stream which seemed never to end.
The thick white cum spewed into her from his wildly-ejaculating penis, filling her mouth with what seemed to be pints and pints of the sweet lust-inspiring liquid and she gasped frantically as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his lewd, white cum.
“That’s a-girl,” he groaned, sadistic even as his body trembled with the power of his climax. “Drink it all. Swallow it down!”
Ann choked and sputtered until she had cleared her throat again, but LaFarge made no move to pull his slowly-deflating penis from her sperm-flooded mouth. “Come on, baby,” he jeered. “The night’s not over yet. Get it back up for me so I can do some business with your girlfriend here. Get that tongue working again.”
Ann realized what he wanted and hated him for it but she dared not disobey again. Perhaps Mr. Birindelli would forgive her for having refused LaFarge’s request earlier in the evening if she behaved herself from now on. Besides, she was by now more than a little stimulated herself and was not quite ready to see the evening come to an end.
Taking LaFarge’s limp penis delicately in her hands, she lewdly licked him clean and watched the Frenchman’s durable penis begin to stir again under this renewed attention.
“Get down there and help her!” ordered LaFarge, shoving Jenifer rudely off the arm of the chair. “Got to get that hard-on back again.”
Jenifer looked bewildered by these instructions, but she caught her balance quickly and crouched next to Ann, looking up at the fashion designer for instructions.
“That’s it! One from each side! Go to work!” he commanded with his husky French accent, spreading his legs even further apart to accommodate both women between his knees.
The two models looked at each other and both simultaneously repressed an urge to giggle, knowing instinctively that nothing would infuriate their “boyfriend” more. Then Jenifer deliberately slid back the foreskin of his penis and introduced the soft limp cock-head into her open mouth, while Ann did her best with the stout trunk of the slowly-expanding instrument, running her lips up and down the length of it.
LaFarge looked down at the two beautiful young models so lewdly sucking between his legs and almost went out of his mind. In a lifetime of wild living, he had never seen anything quite as erotic and exciting as having his cock fondled by two women at once. Really, he thought, I must consider giving Wonder-Wear a little business. This time Birindelli really outdid himself!
Nor did Birindelli disagree, watching the lewd scene from the camera room behind the one-way mirror. Adjusting his pants to allow for the uncomfortably large erection which had suddenly arisen, the vice president corrected the focal length on his camera and prepared to shoot a photograph which would be a masterpiece of erotic art. Jenifer and Ann were kneeling face to face so close that their breasts were almost touching, both of them obscenely moving their glistening parted lips over the European’s now fully erect penis, their lips sometimes meeting in the middle.
“Move closer!” commanded LaFarge, excited by the possibilities offered by this unexpected situation.
“To you?” asked Ann, not quite getting the point.
“No, stupid, to each other. I want to see your bodies touching.”
“This’ll be something new, even for me,” admitted Jenifer, a little dubious, but she inched forward on her knees until her belly and loins were fully in contact with Ann’s supplely yielding body.
“Now I want you to kiss,” he said slowly and distinctly, a perverted sadistic smile lighting up his cruel arrogant face. “But with me in the middle.”
Ann did not like this business in the slightest, but since the evening seemed destined to be spent at the bottom of the moral barrel, she decided there was no point in trying to be righteous now. Besides, she was thoroughly aroused by all that had happened, particularly the notion that their boss was photographing every one of LaFarge’s weird orders, and she liked the feeling of another naked body touching hers, even if it was a woman’s.
As usual, Jenifer led the way, first giving Ann a long meaningful glance and then taking LaFarge’s penis between her lips from one side. Ann responded by closing her mouth over the hard turgid gland from the other side and their lips met in the middle. Ann felt Jenifer’s arms go around her and tried to let her body relax, even though her drunken mind was rebelling against the lesbian overtones to this situation.
“Ah, ain’t that sweet,” commented LaFarge mockingly. “A really pretty pair of dykes! All right girls, fun’s over. You can get back to each other as soon as old Jacques has left town. Meanwhile you’re here to entertain me, not each other. On your feet!”
With his erection fully restored, LaFarge stood up himself and stalked around the room, searching his lewd imagination for new perverted games to play.
“Jenifer, bring me your stockings,” he ordered abruptly, obviously having conceived some obscene new entertainment. “I don’t think you’re going to like this, but then we’ve been making little Ann do all the work, haven’t we?”
Jenifer forced a bright smile and handed the warped Frenchman her silk stockings, discarded along with the rest of her clothing when the orgy had begun.
Still smiling sadistically, LaFarge carefully tied a stocking around each wrist and then ordered the willowy slender model to kneel on the rug with her arms out in front of her.
“Sometimes my girl friends claim that I play too rough,” he chattered on cruelly. “So I like to take certain precautions so they don’t get mad in the middle of a game and go away.”
“Who… what are we going to do?” asked Jenifer, showing some nervousness for the first time.
“Ah-ha!” he crowed happily, his lust-swollen cock waving obscenely back and forth as he laughed. “I thought you were the girl who was always ready for everything!!! Got you worried, eh? Put your arms out here and shut-up!”
Ann saw what was coming, even if Jenifer was still apparently bewildered. The Frenchman was taking the trouble to tie her wrists to the couch so that he could do what he liked with her whether she objected or not. And from the position he was forcing her into — buttocks in the air — she had a pretty good idea of what he had in mind and the young model shuddered at the thought, excited as she was. Surely only animals did what LaFarge was planning to do!
Meanwhile, in the hidden room, Birindelli was going quietly out of his mind with unsatisfied lust. He had all the pictures he needed and there was nothing to do now but wait until that French creep fell asleep or decided he had had enough and went home. Then he could escape from his place of concealment, grab whichever girl was closest and do something about this mountainous erection he was carrying around with him.
Through the one-way mirror, the Wonder-Wear executive watched the lewd Frenchman tie Jenifer tightly to the couch, her vulnerable young body perpendicular to Birindelli’s line of vision so that he had a clear view of the model’s entire body, her swaying breasts hanging loosely beneath her body as she crouched on her hands and knees, and the openly tempting crevice of her smooth globular buttocks, visible through the thin flimsy panties, stuck up lewdly in the air.
The Frenchman, his mammoth erection still hard and firm, was strutting around his captive, examining her from all sides and proudly stroking his penis. Ann was standing off to one side, looking half-nervous and half-sexy. But Birindelli noticed that her chest was still heaving as if she were excited and the brown nipples on her proud heavy breasts were hard and swollen, another sign that little Miss Ann was turned on good and proper.
A shame to waste a situation like that, thought the vice president dourly. There’s a girl all ready to be fucked and here I am trapped back here with this beautiful hard-on. Watching her blow LaFarge nearly drove me up the wall and if I have to stand here and watch Jenifer get it in the ass, I’ll go out of my mind!
It was risky, but the corporation executive was fond of taking risks. Moving with cat-like grace and silence, he slipped out of the concealed room into the corridor and through Ann’s bedroom to the living room door. From this position, he could see Ann, but LaFarge could not see him.
Ann caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, but immediately understood Birindelli’s gestured message not to give him away.
“Uh… be back in a minute, folks,” she murmured, but LaFarge was too involved with Jenifer to pay much attention. The blonde model, helplessly trapped on the floor, shot a long worried look at her departing friend and then winked covertly to indicate that everything was going to be all right.
As Ann stepped out of the living room, Birindelli seized her arm impatiently and practically dragged her into the hidden room.
Oh, God! she thought as the door closed behind her. What now?
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