FOUR
‘We missed you,’ said Clare when Sophia entered the marquee after rearranging her hair and clothing with the help of the mirror in the drawing room.
‘Call of nature, I’m afraid. And I needed to find a quiet place to phone Peter and check on how the kids were.’
‘Everything okay, I hope?’
‘Oh, yes. He always spoils them rotten when I’m away.’
‘Everyone’s been asking me if I know anything about a mysterious French woman who seems to have invited herself to the wedding. Fiona, who was sitting on the same table, says she’s a big society hostess in Paris.’
‘What on earth would bring her to darkest Norfolk?’ Sophia said. ‘Ed obviously doesn’t know her?’
‘Well, if he does, he’s not admitting it. A couple of his friends tried their luck with her but she wasn’t interested in dancing. They said she must be a lesbian!’
‘The eternal complaint of the rejected male!’
‘Anyway, enough about her. I wasn’t sure what time you’d want to crash tonight, so I made this arrangement with the local cab company that you could call them any time after eleven and they’d have someone on standby.’
‘That would be great. Actually, I feel like letting my hair down but I’d be happy to avoid the leches. Where’s that husband of yours when you want him?’
‘One of his aunts went back to her car to fetch something and discovered that she’d got a flat tyre, so he told her he’d sort it for her. Actually, I think he was just looking for an excuse to change out of his formal gear.’
Just at that moment one of the bridesmaids passed by.
‘You got to keep an eye on that man of yours, you know, Clare,’ she said. ‘Soon as your back’s turned, he’s locked in conversation with that Angelique or whatever her name is. I didn’t know he was into cougars!’
‘Probably just practising his French,’ said Clare, before realising how that might sound and bursting out laughing.
‘That one’s a predator, if ever I’ve seen one. Coming to a wedding dressed in black! You should give her the old heave-ho, Clare.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Nothing like a wedding crasher to spice up the party. As long as she doesn’t run off with the family silver.’
‘I don’t know what she would use it for. She hardly touched her food, according to Fifi.’
As soon as Ed returned, Sophia made a beeline for him and dragged him onto the dancefloor. He was remarkably sober, not least because, as he told Sophia, he had been insufferably nervous about his speech. His sobriety enabled him to judge the state of the guests and he noted with surprise that Sophia was as tipsy as he had ever seen her. He put this down to the fact that she was attending on her own and missing Peter. After a couple of dances, he was ready to find a new partner – plenty of whom were waiting their turn – but Sophia seemed not to want to let him go. After a while, she asked him what he had been talking to the French woman about.
‘Oh, this and that. Everyone thinks I quizzed her about why she was here but it wasn’t like that at all. Actually, she’s not the stuck-up bitch that everyone makes her out to be. You should chat to her if you get the chance. She stays in your neck of the woods when she’s in London. Has some sort of import-export business, it seems. She mentioned something about gastronomic products from Gascony.’
‘Wherever that might happen to be.’
‘Yeah, exactly. The only export I know from Gascony is D’Artagnan. When I told her that she was quite impressed, I must say.’
‘Ah, but that’s because you didn’t tell her you didn’t know where the hell Gascony is.’
‘Well, you have a point there.’
Pepped by the gossip, Sophia left Ed and accepted several other invitations to dance before it was announced that the wedding breakfast would soon be served. People who wished to partake of beefburgers, hot dogs and salads could go out onto the terrace, while those who preferred to keep dancing or talking could do so in the tent. Sophia thought that this was perhaps a good time to contact the taxi firm. She had meant to get the number from Clare but had forgotten to do so among all the chatter about the exotic Frenchwoman. Not seeing her in the tent, she ventured onto the path that led round past the ornamental pond to the terrace. She was level with the fountain – a replica of the Anteros to be found in Piccadilly Circus – when a figure moved out of the shadows.
‘We really should stop meeting like this,’ said Veronique, grabbing Sophia by the wrist and kissing her fiercely on the mouth. ‘It is time for bed, no? Or rather it is time for the bedroom?’
‘Look, I really need to call a taxi. I have a booking at the Holiday Inn and -‘
‘There is plenty of room in my bedroom. It has a very comfortable king size bed. Why would you want to spend the night in a dingy little room of a third-rate hotel chain when you can savour the delights of a home away from home?’
‘But, you know, I’ve been thinking and though it’s been fun and, you know, well, exciting to be a bit wild, you know, and do something a little different – to break the routine and all that sort of thing…’
Sophia broke off, not knowing how to wind up what she was saying – even what exactly she intended to say.
‘You talk too much, pretty English rose,’ said Veronique.
Then she reached under Sophia’s dress, pushed her panties aside and slid her index finger into Sophia’s sex. The way her muscles tightened around her finger told Veronique all she needed to know about Sophia’s hunger.
‘Tonight we make love like you have never made it before. This way,’ she added, taking Sophia’s hand. ‘We can slip out the tradesman’s entrance.’
FIVE
Despite Sophia’s protestations – she needed to say goodbye to Clare and Ed, she should call the taxi company as a courtesy, someone wanted the phone number of a tax lawyer she knew – Veronique soon had Sophia back at the inn. She got her key from reception while Sophia hovered in the shadows and together they took the staircase to the first floor. She unlocked the door, motioning to Sophia to go in first. Leaving the door open, she used the light coming in from the corridor to move across to the far side of the room and turn on the bedside lamp. She then returned to the door, closed it and locked it.
Sophia fiddled with her clutch bag and started to give the speech she had prepared on the short walk to the inn.
‘As you know, I am a married woman and I am kind of old-fashioned in my beliefs. I cannot pretend that I haven’t been flattered by your attentions, but I have thought a lot about this and have decided that things must end here. I am sure you will understand.’
In response, Veronique moved closer to Sophia and kissed her forehead. She reached behind her back, found the zipper and pulled it slowly down to her waist. Sophia stood as if frozen to the spot. She was helpless as Veronique once again exposed her breasts – this time with an unaccustomed gentleness which unnerved her.
‘I understand one thing,’ said Veronique, in little more than a whisper. ‘I can sense your desire. I can feel your desire. I can smell your desire.’
‘Oh my God!’ breathed Sophia, as Veronique moved both hands down over her breasts, over her stomach and towards her centre. ‘I really beg you, please, don’t…Aah!’
Veronique’s right palm had found its way beneath Sophia’s dress, which now lay at half-mast around her waist, and under her lace panties to mould itself over the contours of her mound. Drawing Sophia’s head towards her with her other hand, she kissed her deeply and increasingly urgently, adjusting the rhythm of both hand and tongue according to the surge in desire that communicated itself so patently from her lover’s body – from her whole being.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ she breathed in her ear.
She took the absence of reply as permission to move her probing hand from Sophia’s silky down to her slick labial folds. Unhurried, she massaged the entrance way for what seemed like minutes before breathing once again in Sophia’s ear.
‘Do you want me to stop?’
This time Sophia responded by taking Veronique’s hand and guiding it inside her, first one finger, then another, then, it seemed, all four. Veronique’s mouth closed on her lover’s, her tongue working in time with her fingers in Sophia’s more intimate opening – tenderly, unerringly, ceaselessly. With her free hand, Veronique pulled down Sophia’s dress and then her new apricot panties, leaving her only in her shoes. Without breaking the kiss or withdrawing her fingers from her core, she lay Sophia down on the bed, still wearing her shoes. She increased the urgency of her kissing, even as she worked her fingers deeper into Sophia’s vulva. With her thumb she started massaging her clitoris.
She felt the response welling up inside Sophia but she had no desire that she should spend herself so quickly. She had dared to defy her and she must be taught a lesson. A lesson that would stand her in good stead in her future love-making. The virtue of patience, and the virtue of obedience. So she slowed her speed, broke off the kiss and slowly brought her hand out of Sophia. Now that she had her pupil’s attention, she decided to put on a little show for her, to further heighten her arousal and reinforce the lesson in the value of patience.
She began to unbutton her blouse button by button, waiting till all had been unfastened before slowly taking it off and discarding it on the floor. Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her black bra, letting the cups stay in place for perhaps fifteen seconds before using both hands to slide it down her stomach and then flinging it away across the room. Instinctively, Sophia assumed a sitting position on the bed and reached out to touch the breasts – at last freed from their confinement. She remembered – without any shame now – all the times she had fantasised about touching them, holding them, taking them in her mouth. Sometimes, alone in her bed, sometimes when she was making love with Peter.
Without moving an inch, Veronique showed who was in charge by a shake of her head. Sophia eased herself back onto the bed, assuming the position of a Rubens model without the 17th century voluptuousness. Becoming aware that she was still wearing shoes, she twisted round to take them off but again a signal from Veronique stopped her. She was beginning to understand the submissive role she was required to play. Not only did she understand it, she realised that she was relishing it. But she would not submit without a fight. She had already sized her opponent up, and she knew that her role was to play the naughty pupil who was teacher’s pet.
Satisfied that her student was showing the required deference, Veronique unzipped her skirt and let if fall to the floor. When she stepped out of it, Sophia uttered an involuntary whistle of appreciation as Veronique’s petite figure was shown off to best effect by sheer black stockings held in place by a dark grey suspender belt and garters framing her French knickers. She lifted each foot in turn onto the bed and asked Sophia to take off her shoes.
‘Now kiss my feet,’ she said.
Sophia bent down and kissed the toes of first one stockinged foot and then the other. Veronique reached out her hand and told Sophia to follow her.
‘Time to shower,’ she said.
Once in the bathroom, Sophia entered the shower cubicle and let the water run. Looking out through the glass door, she noticed that Veronique had returned to the bedroom – presumably in order to remove her remaining garments. Sophia stood under the shower nozzle and let the hot water embrace her body. She applied some shampoo to her hair and worked it into her scalp and through her long tresses. Having rinsed the shampoo off, she started to work the shower gel over her arms, legs and feet. She then squeezed some soap onto her hands and started to work it into her back.
‘Let me help you with that,’ said Veronique, who had slipped into the shower behind her.
‘Oh, great, thanks,’ said Sophia, genuinely surprised and a little disconcerted. She was not used to sharing a shower with anyone, not even Peter. Even though he had on occasion offered to ‘help wash her back’, she didn’t get turned on by his cock flapping about on her ass as his hands worked on her breasts from behind.
Veronique reached round for the gel dispenser, brushing Sophia’s breast en route, and pumped some into her hand. She started to rub the soap into Sophia’s shoulders, moving down to the small of her back. Methodically, she then took the shower head and rinsed her off. Replacing the shower head, she took another measure of gel and began working on Sophia’s buttocks, first one, then the other, gradually inching closer to the crevice that separated her well-proportioned, firm and slightly wobbly cheeks. Sophia sensed rather than saw Veronique drop to her knees and responded by turning the jet so it should not be in her mistress’s eyes. Veronique responded to the courtesy by pulling the cheeks apart and running her finger down her crack and onto the browny pink bud, using the remaining soapy lather to lave the outer petals. Sophia planted her legs further apart and bent over so that her head was nestled against the tiles between the taps and the sliding door. So much for the sanctity of the shower, she found time to reflect, as Veronique slowed things down again by returning for some soap.
‘Oh my fucking God!’ Sophia all but roared, as Veronique’s finger entered her forbidden hole.
‘Ah, fuck!’ she repeated as that finger worked its way expertly up and down and round and round.
Not wanting to lose the moment, Veronique swiftly rinsed her down before returning to her position on the floor and making her next move. While her tongue led the attack on Sophia’s defenceless asshole, Veronique’s fingers probed her dripping pussy. Despite the noise of the cascading water and her singularly disadvantageous position in respect of listening to her partner’s utterances, Veronique had no trouble making out the screams emanating from her mouth.
In response, Veronique slowed down momentarily, as if her troops needed to regroup before recommencing their assault. To say this had the desired effect would be an understatement.
‘Make me cum, you fucking bitch! Fuck me harder, you French cunt!’
Turned on more than she had been in many a year, Veronique redoubled her attack on both fronts. And it was not to be long before each army had surrendered. Not before a fight, it must be said. Veronique, who had been effectively holding Sophia up for several minutes, allowed her conquered foe to sink slowly to the floor. Leaving her there to regain her strength for campaigns to come, she turned off the water, left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom to make it ready for the next engagement.
SIX
When Sophia had recovered enough to pick herself off the floor she rinsed herself off and then brushed her teeth and dried her hair. This always took her a long time and she was frankly in no hurry given her rather fragile state. God, if Peter could see me now, she thought. And to think that it had always been him who had entertained fantasies of watching her with another woman. She wasn’t entirely sure that he would have enjoyed watching her shower scene with Veronique, though. He might just have felt surplus to requirements.
One day she would really have to sit down and think about what had happened to her. She had never so much as kissed a woman before. Well, not like that, anyway. And yet from the first moment this woman had breezed over to her table she had known in her heart of hearts that all that had happened – well, maybe not all – had been inevitable. Fated, written in the stars, was probably a more accurate way of putting it. Had a woman ever come onto her before without her realising it? Well, there had been times on business trips and what have you, but in those cases to be honest she hadn’t found the women attractive – they had invariably been older than her – and she hadn’t given them (or it) another thought. And she did like men; and she liked Peter. She loved him. So what was going on?
At 32, she was hardly old enough to be going through a mid-life crisis and she was as happy as she had ever been. Yes, she had felt a degree of frustration at not being a paid member of the workforce doing what she did best, but with the new job due to start in the autumn, her spirits had received a lift. When she had thought about the flirting that would start once she was installed in her new post in a new company, she had always characterised it as male and as flirting. Now, she realised she had a taste for forbidden fruit that it would be difficult to ignore. She could envisage a future in which she could as easily be the predator as the prey. She had always been a quick learner and in Veronique she was in the hands – and quite a bit else – of a good teacher. Possibly one of the very best.
Full of these reflections, Sophia returned to the bedroom wearing only a towel. The scene that greeted her could have come out of a movie. The bedside light had been switched off and in its place a plethora of candles had been lit. No ordinary candles these, they were scented candles. Sophia could make out honey, sandalwood and lemongrass, but there were others besides which she couldn’t immediately identify. Not that she was in any hurry to. She went to the bed, where Veronique was lying beneath a sheet, her raven hair spread out over the pillows. She let the towel fall to the floor and moved onto the bed beside Veronique.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hey.’
‘Long day? Ready for bed?’ said Sophia, mockingly.
‘We could sleep or we could find new ways to entertain ourselves.’
‘I’m not sure I could sleep.’
‘Then it is time to explore the boundaries a little, no?’
‘Do we still have any to cross?’
‘You have much to learn, pretty English rose. You are fortunate that you have a willing teacher.’
‘Am I teacher’s pet?’
‘I will only be able to decide that once you have taken all your tests. Are you ready for your next examination. It will be a close and detailed one, and you will be required to do your part.’
‘Will there be an oral element? I was always rather good at those.’
‘We can start with the oral if you wish.’
Veronique raised herself up and took in Sophia’s body.
‘You smell good,’ she said. ‘Your hair, it is so beautiful.’
‘And here, your hair is so fine and golden. How it entices one to enter the secret and forbidden chamber of your body.’
‘You sure know how to talk dirty. Kiss me.’
Veronique obliged, moving Sophia’s arms up the bed beyond her head as she did so.
‘These, I will have to tie up,’ she said, breaking the kiss, ‘so you are not tempted to disobey me.’
Veronique went across the room to her bag, out of which she took a length of silk cord. She returned and tied it lightly around Sophia’s wrists.
‘You come prepared, don’t you?’
‘Shush, my child. No more jokes. Is it not your wish to return to the place I took you earlier?’
Sophia merely nodded her head in agreement.
Veronique started by making her descent of Sophia’s arms from wrist to shoulder, planting butterfly kisses on her skin. She gave her fingers to Sophia’s mouth, where they received the attention they craved as the younger woman ran her tongue along their ridges until she came to the nails, where she nibbled gently on the cuticles. In the meantime, lying head to toe alongside her lover, Veronique moved her attention to Sophia’s feet, separating each toe in turn – starting with the big one and ending with the smallest – first dusting it with her tongue and then taking it into her mouth and setting off the nerve endings in the soft spaces between the toes. Caressing each slim ankle with one hand, she ran the nails of her other along the Achilles tendon, before shifting her attention to the calves and shins, which she covered with eager but gentle kisses.
Telling Sophia to lie on her side, she brought her mouth to the sensitive area behind her knees, while her left hand roamed in an arc across her stomach, up to the swelling of her breasts and down to the mountain which stood sentinel over the precious underground cavern where she knew treasures to be stored. She also knew there could exist no dragon strong enough to prevent her accessing that trove. But then she was not your typical soldier of fortune; her mission was not just to rifle her victim’s jewels but to give something back in return.
Veronique changed her position so that she was straddling Sophia with her head over her thighs and her own mons raised tantalising close over Sophia’s lips. If it was a test of sorts, it was a test where at least two different responses would receive full marks. Much as she desired to drink from Veronique’s reservoir, Sophia opted to take her time and make not just herself but her partner wait. Even when Veronique shifted her position to bring her sex closer to Sophia’s mouth, she declined to take the bait. ‘The bitch can wait,’ she thought. ‘She’ll have to beg for my ministrations.’
Veronique worked on Sophia’s thighs, switching from one leg to the other until she felt and heard the first tell-tale signs of arousal, Sophia letting out a long sigh as her legs began to spasm. Veronique brought one of her breasts into action by rubbing it along the line of Sophia’s as yet unopened nether lips. Sophia groaned and Veronique repeated the treatment with her other breast, this time rubbing her nipple first with her fingers so that the hard bud might make an attempt to storm the ramparts. Sophia bucked her hips and Veronique knew it was time to up the ante.
With her fingernails she pioneered a trail through Sophia’s wild but well kempt meadow, reminding herself to graze here first before she feasted on her sweetmeats. As she did so she shifted per position once more so that her own trimmed and delicately scented coppice was no more than an inch or two from Sophia’s lips. Still receiving no response, she ran her fingers lightly across Sophia’s engorged folds to her puckered bud. By dint of a mighty application of willpower, Sophia managed to stay quiet and virtually still, understanding that her resistance acted as a powerful aphrodisiac on her lover.
Pleased and frustrated in equal measure, Veronique rubbed Sophia’s forbidden entrance with the broad pad of her middle finger. Sensing that her muscles were going into overdrive, Veronique moved her mouth over the still locked alleyway and aimed a rivulet of saliva at the barrier. Sophia responded instantly with a gasp and a raising of her rump. Wasting no time on further preliminaries, Veronique lashed the opening with her tongue and drilled her forefinger into the recalcitrant opening.
‘No, no, no!’ yelled Sophia – almost loud enough to wake the whole building. ‘Fuck!’
‘My rose likes to play dirty, doesn’t she? Play dirty and talk dirty – that is my little rose. Can’t get enough, can she, my little rose.’
‘Fuck you!’
‘In time, little rose. All in good time.’
Veronique extracted her finger and before Sophia could catch her breath replaced it with her tongue, using her thumb and middle finger to ease its access. No sooner had she invaded her than she withdrew, turning to look her enemy in the eyes and tell her simply, ‘Now you come.’
Lying flat on Sophia almost belly to belly, Veronique cared nothing about any pain she might be causing her opponent. ‘There is no Geneva Convention in love,’ she told herself. Driving her finger back into the now wide open orifice, she commenced a two-pronged attack, commandeering her tongue to join forces with her digit. ‘Take that, you little cunt!’ Veronique attempted to gasp in the throes of ecstasy, even if it sounded as if she was blowing a raspberry. The unexpected rush of hot air had an immediate effect on Sophia.
‘Aaaaagh!’ she ejaculated. ‘Fucking bitch…fucking bitch.’
With those sweet nothings ringing in her ears, Veronique collapsed on the bed beside Sophia – her legs draped either side of her heaving, sweaty torso.
SEVEN
‘I imagine we woke the whole place up,’ said Sophia, who had shaken off her bonds and was sitting up against the headboard drinking from a bottle of mineral water provided by the inn.
‘It’s only one o’clock,’ said Veronique. ‘Many people will still be at the reception.’
‘Either that or passed out in the grounds of the rectory.’
‘Nobody will have missed us. You are quite safe with me until the morning.’
‘I would say that that is the one thing I am not! Your appetite is truly voracious. A session with you is more exhausting than an hour and a half of wet yoga.’
‘I did not think that I would hear you complaining. Such an ungrateful girl!’
‘You know, Veronique, I know almost nothing about you. Everyone you talked to at the reception has a different version of what you do. You love a bit of mystery, don’t you?’
‘What do you want to know about me? Whether I am married? My age? How I make a living? Are these things so important to you.’
Seeing that Sophia didn’t answer her, she went on.
‘I was married once. My husband died. Ours was a typical French marriage. He had mistresses and I needed to find comfort where I could. He left me money, yes, but I paid my own way. I have worked at various things: as a translator for the French government, as a wedding planner (yes – I thought you would laugh). Now, as I told Ed, I operate a business out of Bayonne in south-west France and divide my time between there and a small place in Paris.’
‘You’ve certainly turned my life upside down. How long have you been interested in women?’
‘Interested in women: always. Having sex with them, only since I discovered my husband’s infidelity. I was seduced by an older woman. She was also married.’
‘Do you still have sex with men?’
‘I haven’t had sex with a man for almost all the years since I started dating women. I have very little desire to now, and it makes life so much simpler.’
‘So you are happy to be known as a lesbian?’
‘Why, yes, of course, if that is how people wish to categorise me.’
‘Have you lived long-term with a woman?’
‘I tried once, but it was a disaster. We were both too strong as personalities. Does that make sense?’
‘Sure it does. So you have never fallen in love with a woman?’
‘Not yet,’ she replied with a smile. ‘But there is always the first time, is there not?’
Despite herself, Sophia blushed.
‘I thought I had everything, but since meeting you I realised I didn’t. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t anything to do with sex, because it is, but I have become aware – independent of meeting you but sort of concurrent with it – that there was a void in my life. Something that noise and activity could hide but couldn’t fill. I suppose it is part of growing up.’
‘Part of the human condition. Ennui – boredom – is something we all have to deal with. For you, with your can-do, no-challenge-is-too-great mentality, it comes later. But the seed was sown long ago – perhaps at birth – and it will surely flower when the conditions are right.’
‘And they are right now?’
‘I don’t know, but I think maybe. Sophia, you should realise that I don’t want to steal you from your husband. I am not quite the predator you think I am.’
‘No, I have often thought about our first meeting and I know that I was sending signals, like a magnet drawing you into my orbit. I wanted intimacy with another person. Whether it needed to be intimacy with another woman I don’t know. But I think so. And it is not because I craved difference – at least that was not the main motivation. It was you I craved. There, I’ve said it, and it scared me. Scares me still.’
Veronique remained silent.
‘What about you? Do I mean more to you than the others?’
‘I think I would be lying if I said no. Does that make you more scared?’
‘Love, intimacy – call it what you will – is scary. Yes,’ she said, reaching out for Veronique’s hand, ‘of course it makes me scared.’
Then, after a pause, she added, ‘You have a good heart. I know that. Even as you were fucking the brains out of me, I knew that.’
‘And yet I think you will not leave Peter.’
‘Will that break your heart?’
‘No. No, my heart has never been broken and I do not want it to happen. We all of us want everything and everything we cannot have. But we can try, no?’
‘What else can we do?’ said Sophia, compelled to put her arms around Veronique. ‘Why am I like a teenager in heat?’
‘You have so much to give.’
‘Stop it. Who knows where this will lead to?’
‘I think we both know the answer to that.’
Breaking the embrace, Veronique fixed Sophia with her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. She took a pillow from the head of the bed and placed it beside Sophia.
‘Lie on that and open yourself up to me. I cannot wait any longer, and I think neither can you.’
Sophia raised her buttocks onto the pillow and spread her legs wide. Any pretence at modesty seemed disingenuous and somehow unbecoming. Overwhelmed by a mixture of tenderness and lust, Veronique moved up to Sophia, turned her face towards her and kissed her, first gently and then like a woman possessed. Sophia responded by rolling the French woman over so that she was now on top. Having first pushed Veronique’s arms back behind her head, she ran her right hand down her left flank until she reached her taut, boyish buttocks. She ran her finger along her crack and over her anus, kissing her voraciously all the while. Moving her hand by the most direct route over her hip, she found her sex – already moist – and drove two fingers in.
‘You will take my fist,’ she said, kissing no longer being on her agenda. ‘But first I will silence you.’
She left the bed briefly and returned with her own apricot coloured panties.
‘Open your mouth,’ she commanded the Frenchwoman.
‘You’re a hussy and you need to be taught a lesson,’ she continued, stuffing her panties inside Veronique’s mouth.
‘One word out of you – the merest whimper – and I will punish you severely. Nod if you understand.’
Veronique’s acquiescence being forthcoming, Sophia returned to Veronique’s sex and massaged it – gently at first and then with increasing pressure. Her labia glistened with her juices, seeping up from within. Once again Sophia entered her with two fingers, eliciting a spasm from her nether regions.
‘I thought you would be a dry old prune, you middle-aged slapper. Turns out you’re as wet as a teenager. I can’t let that go unpunished now, can I?’
Sophia withdrew her hand and forming her index, middle and ring fingers into a kind of V, pushed them inside Veronique. A gurgling noise escaped from her throat through the fabric of the panties. Her face was no longer its accustomed olive shade; her cheeks were crimson.
‘One more,’ said Sophia, withdrawing her hand with a plop from Veronique’s pussy and holding it up in front of her face, coated with her liquified desire. ‘Next the pinkie and then, and then, you know what.’
Sophia curled her fingers up to make entry easier and more comfortable, but she needn’t have bothered. Veronique received her greedily, sucking her further in with her muscles.
‘Okay,’ said Sophia, withdrawing her fingers, ‘change of plan. I think that is enough.’
Veronique shook her head violently, looking at Sophia with desperation in her eyes. She tried to speak but Sophia merely stuffed the cotton deeper into her throat.
‘The dried-up old bitch wants more, does she? I don’t know why I am such a considerate person, but just this once I’ll accommodate you. It remains to be seen whether you can accommodate me.’
Inside slid her whole hand as if to the manner born, right up to the wrist. Veronique writhed on the bed, every movement driving Sophia’s fist deeper.
‘This is the closest to cock you are going to get these days, isn’t it?’ said Sophia with a malicious sounding laugh.
Veronique did not respond.
‘Answer me, bitch, or the fist comes out.’
Veronique nodded her head as best she could from her supine position.
As a reward, Sophia twisted her hand around inside Veronique, yanking the panties out of her mouth.
‘Let me hear you now, you wicked French seductress.’
Veronique emitted a primal cry that rent the night air. She had not been satisfied like this for many long months.
‘If I said I didn’t think you had it in you, I think I would be lying, so I won’t,’ said Veronique, as she returned from the bathroom. ‘You were wonderful.’
‘It’s such fun and so empowering to let yourself go once in a while. God knows, it makes a change from spreadsheets, forecasts and due diligence.’
‘Who will look back on their deathbed at a PowerPoint presentation? But what happened between us tonight will never be forgotten.’
‘And the night is still young,’ grinned Sophia.
‘Didn’t they have a big porn film years ago called Insatiable? If you ever want to switch careers, you could star in the remake.’
‘I’ve just been thinking. One reason I like making love to a woman is because of the aesthetics of the thing. A woman’s body is just so much more beautiful than a man’s. Even a fit, handsome man. The curves, the smell, the softness – so many things. Even the holes, if I can put things crudely. You keep treasure in caves, caverns are where you store food and wine, children have fun playing in tunnels. I don’t know where I’m going with this, and, okay, a penis fits a hole pretty well, but then lots of other things fit it too – maybe just as well.’
‘I see you are moving quickly from apprentice to aficionado.’
‘Ha! Just pillow talk.’
‘I like to hear you talk. I like to listen to you.’
‘I told you you were a big softie. All this mystery woman stuff and the je ne sais quoi! You’re like a big slavering golden retriever.’
‘Slavering?’
‘Dribbling.’
‘Merci bien, cherie.’
‘De rien.’
‘You said the night was yet young but the last time I tried to give you pleasure you seemed like you had had enough.’
‘You’re trying to turn me on again. I know you well enough by now. You know exactly what I want. You have been careful to keep me wanting it the whole day.’
‘You will enjoy it more this way. We are not machines. We must know how and when to peak. One spark and the fire will be lit.’
‘Everything you do throws off sparks. You know it. You tease me mercilessly. That’s why I had to “punish” you.’
‘How do you want it?’
‘I trust you. I only know I want it bad.’
‘You are a traditional girl. I will give you tradition then.’
‘I want you to French me.’
Sophia was lying under the sheet. Veronique traced her finger along the outline of Sophia’s body, carefully avoiding her breasts and vulva. Sophia shuddered under that touch and started to chant softly under her breath, almost inaudibly at first, ‘Fuck me! Fuck me!’
Veronique slowly pulled back the shroud from her lover’s body and gloried again at its beauty.
‘You are exquisite and I think I could love you.’
Sophia lay motionless with her eyes closed, waiting to become a sacrifice, desperate to be sacrificed. Sensing her growing arousal, Veronique made her wait. Sophia kept still – almost rigid – with her eyes closed. The movement of the mattress told her that Veronique was taking up a position towards the bottom half of the bed. Sophia resisted the urge to move or even wriggle to signal her desire. Gently, Veronique eased Sophia’s legs apart. It was all Sophia could do not to moan. She felt her lover climb over her right leg and settle between her legs. Involuntarily, she squeezed her with her knees to signal she was ready. And willing. And desperate.
Her eyes still closed, Sophia felt Veronique’s fingers on her folds, exploring them as if she was puzzling over how she might open them. She took a sharp intake of breath as her heartrate quickened. She told herself to relax her muscles, just as if she were in the dentist’s chair. She thought she might have succeeded until one of Veronique’s fingers broke ranks from the others and sought out her clitoris. It didn’t take long to find it. The light but insistent circular motion was driving Sophia crazy and the inevitable was not long in coming.
Veronique smiled up at Sophia and pushed her hair away from her eyes. Then, deftly parting her labia, she took a draught of the English woman’s scent. Using two fingers from each hand to keep access open, she ran her tongue along her lover’s deep furrow. Sophia arched her back and sought relief for the ache she felt inside. Veronique’s tongue lapped at the pink flesh like a hummingbird seeking out nectar. She, however, lacked the skill of a hummingbird and much of the nectar went to waste, oozing onto her chin and her nose, like ice cream round the mouth of a toddler. Sophia felt her juices running down her thighs and pooling on the bedsheet.
Veronique increased the speed of her oral ministrations with the instinctive skill of an oarsman upping the stroke rate. Like a painter mixing circular and perpendicular brushstrokes on a door, she covered every centimetre of Sophia’s sex until she could take no more. She let out a primordial roar and then she started to sob. Tearless sobs at first, heaving through her chest. Then the floodgates opened. She threw herself into the arms of her teacher, her lover, her friend – threw herself into an uncertain future.