Dirty Susan

"I'll be half-an-hour," Stephanie replied.

"Great. See you soon. Ciao."

Susan walked to the table and lit a cigarette. She sat in one of the six seats – expensive, heavy wrought iron affairs placed around the table, part of her patio furniture.

She smoked and schemed, her mind occupied with Machiavellian intrigue as she tried to envision every twist and turn. She could get to work on Stephanie as soon as she arrived. The wine would help, and Susan would use the same tactics as the previous day. She would ply her friend with wine and then convince Stephanie to partake in some more girly sex. Susan was convinced she would be able to wheedle her way into Stephanie's knickers again. She would employ the same technique that had proved so effective already. She would ease Stephanie along, use their rapport and her friend's desire for affection; and Susan was more than happy to supply the commodity. She genuinely liked Stephanie, had sincere feelings for her. And who knew, maybe they had a future together as lovers?

Susan had really enjoyed that lithe, toned body, and was almost salivating at the thought of all the nasty fun they could share if she could manage to drag Stephanie's mind away from Michael and introduce her to John.

God, the possibilities were limitless.

Susan's thoughts turned to John's friend. If Omar was anything like John had described...

Oh God, a big black cock to play with!

How she'd love to watch Stephanie getting her pink cunt fucked by something like that!

The day was filled with potential. If she kept her cool and coaxed Stephanie all the way it could all happen for them.

John's two friends could be explained away. She could come up with a valid reason for them being with John easily enough. After all, she reasoned, she did have hours to think of something solid.

"Be cool about it, babe," Susan muttered to herself. "Calm, take it easy. Play it by ear."

Susan slouched in the chair, her buttocks sliding forward as she opened her legs. Why not have a little wank before Stephanie arrived? She could fantasise about John and Omar and the other one whose name she couldn't recall. A little rub of her clit while she imagined three men at her simultaneously.

The other issue could wait, what she hoped would be the final piece in the jigsaw. She would deal with that later. It was too early to call just yet.

"Ooh, Steph," Susan groaned when her fingers found the sluice of her sex. "I hope I can make it all happen with you and the boys. You'll have so much fun if you just listen to me and go with it."

The cigarette smouldered in the ashtray while Susan sighed into the summer sky, her fingers working at her vulva, her mind filled with what could be – If only she could get Stephanie to cooperate.

**

At the same time as Susan masturbated on her patio, at the moment Stephanie was leaving the marital home, Michael Anders, in yet another hotel room, was appreciating one of his favourite views. He was seriously considering asking Amy if he could take photos of her. A pictorial reminder of the girl for the future when he'd decided he'd had enough and binned her.

She'd arrived that day wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts and bikini top. The Daisy Dukes were so faded they were the colour of sun-bleached bone, so skimpy that the undercurve of Amy's buttocks were visible as she'd strode into the foyer of the hotel. There had been a few raised eyebrows and several surreptitious, very appreciative second looks before Michael had taken the key-card from the clerk on the reception desk and whisked Amy away.

At that moment, mere minutes after entering the room, the shorts were cast aside and the girl was on her knees, her breasts swinging loose.

"You look gorgeous like that, Amy," Michael growled. He smoothed a palm over the girl's sleek hair, smiling as she looked up at him, her eyes bright, the sclera clean and glistening, the green of her iris iridescent with desire.

What charged Michael the most was the innocence in Amy's eyes contrasted with her lips stretched tight around his girth.

The girl's face was distorted as she accommodated his meat, and her big eyes staring up at him elicited a low groan from Michael.

"Fuck, but you're so beautiful when you look at me that way. God, Amy, I think I'm going to come if you keep on doing that to me."

The knob-end plopped from Amy's lips. She sucked in a deep breath, her fingers splayed across her breasts.

"Do you really like it that much?" she asked, gasping and swallowing.

"Fucking hell, Amy," Michael said. "Seeing you do it ... Your face, your eyes ... Shit, I can't tell you how good it is. All of it."

The girl grinned and shuffled to a more comfortable position on her knees, rising while her hand cranked at Michael's erection.

She swelled with pride. "I like making my Daddy happy. I'll do anything for you."

Michael replaced Amy's hand with his own, growling, "Keep sucking Daddy's cock."

Amy laughed when he tapped her cheeks and forehead with the keel of his hard-on.

"Come on, Amy. Suck it, baby-girl. Make Daddy happy."

God it was good, so fucking sweet to watch the girl slurp and slobber at his meat. He couldn't make up his mind whether to get between her legs and play the baby-making game again or if he should just let her carry on. He knew she wasn't all that keen on having him come all over her face. It was the jizm in her hair that pissed her off the most, not so much the mess he made on her cheeks and tits, nor was she put off by the taste of spunk, but she whinged like fuck if she caught ejaculate in her hair.

At the thought of coming over Amy's face, and her aversion to spunk in her hair, Michael was reminded of his fantasy of Susan, the one where he came and came and covered her face with semen. The one where ropes of jizm clung to her blonde hair while a lot more of the stuff slid down her cheeks.

Fuck it, he decided. Let Amy whine. He was going to fuck her face and let it go all over her. If the stuff landed where she didn't like it, then tough, he was going to let it fly. Gravity and the force of his ejaculation would take care of the rest.

"That's it, baby-girl," Michael grunted, encouraging Amy to really work at him. "Make some noise. Let Daddy know how much you love sucking his dick."

Amy sucked, her cheeks concave before she let Michael's cock-head pop from her lips with a sound like a cork from a bottle. She grinned at the moan from Michael, repeating the action a further three times, lips smacking as the blunt head popped out.

"Yes, baby-girl. Do it. Do that again."

Amy laughed and complied. Then she rose to her feet and pressed her body against Michael's. She kissed him, her hand working along the whole length of his tumescence.

"Lick me, Daddy," Amy murmured. "Kiss my pussy. Make me come and I'll suck your cock some more."

Michael shoved his jeans down his legs, suddenly impatient to get at her. He wanted to hear Amy moan and tell him how good he was at tonguing her sex.

She was already on the bed, her legs open while her fingers stirred languid circles through her fleshy vulva.

That look in her eyes, the heat and desire Michael saw in Amy's expression tugged at some indefinable, visceral instinct. Lust surged through him and he scrambled out of his clothes with indecent haste, eager as he'd ever been to be at her.

"Yes, Daddy," Amy mumbled, her hair falling over her face as her head lolled forwards. She held her labia splayed with the fingers of one hand, squeezing one breast while Michael lapped at the exposed nub of pink flesh. "That's nice ... Right there. Suck my clitty."

Amy's stomach tensed and her legs came up off the bed. She groaned and gasped and reached for the man's head while his tongue slid over and around and then, finally, into her cunt.

"I can feel that!" Amy squealed. She pulled her lover's face against her body, forcing him to herself, desperate for his tongue as it squirmed inside her.

Michael broke away with a gasp, his chin smeared with Amy's desire. He then began to work at her, licking, slurping and lapping at her core. He slid a finger into the molten heat, wetting the digit before he brought it out and slid the moistened tip over Amy's clitoris.

The finger slipped inside again, quickly followed by a second finger. This time Michael turned his hand, palm uppermost while he curled both fingers, finding a place inside Amy that made her gasp.

"Fuck," the young woman blurted. She levered herself up onto her elbows and, wide-eyed and staring, gaped down along the length of her torso. "Do that, Daddy," she grunted. "That feels so fucking good." A long groan curdled from Amy's chest. She snorted before she grabbed at Michael's wrist and forced his expeditionary probing even deeper. Then, with her pretty features twisted into a grimace of frantic longing, her voice thick and guttural, Amy said, "Keep dong that ... I'll come."

Michael held the girl's eyes with his stare. He challenged her silently, defying her to break contact while he rubbed at her.

"Come for me," Michael muttered. "Come for me. I own you, Amy. Come for me when I tell you."

The girl was frantic, sobbing and gasping, her gaze still tied to Michael's. He watched her, could see her stomach tensing, her tits shivering as she rushed headlong towards her climax.

"Come on," Michael snarled, three stiff fingers plunging and squelching, Amy's body tight around them. "Come, you bitch. Come for me. Let it go. Let it all go."

He knew he had her when her hips and thighs began to jerk. Amy's body convulsed and a breathless grunt burst out of her. She fell back onto the bed, limbs thrashing, signalling her pleasure with gasps and mewls and the occasional blurted obscenity.

Michael was up on his knees, his fist yanking urgently. He tugged at himself as he positioned himself alongside Amy's head, aiming the knob-end of his cock at her face. With one hand he reached down and slid his fingers into the young woman's hair, turning her towards him.

Amy's eyes flew open when the first splash spattered onto her cheek. Jizm ricocheted off her tongue when she opened her mouth as a target, gouts of the stuff spattering onto her breasts as Michael continued to pull at himself.

With her own climax cooling, the young woman had the presence of mind to bring Michael towards her, her hand against his buttocks as she took him into her mouth.

"Daddy," Amy mumbled, gloop sliding over her chin as she sat up. "You came all over me." She surveyed her cum-spattered breasts and scooped the dangling thread from her chin with a forefinger, holding the digit aloft to examine the viscosity of Michael's ejaculate. The girl pouted at her lover with mock displeasure. "I need a shower, now. You've come all over my tits." Then she grinned, her face smeared with spunk. "But at least it didn't get in my hair."

It was to Amy's great disappointment that Michael failed to gain another erection. She wanted, as usual, for him to come inside her. She was just coaxing the beginnings of a hard-on from him when his mobile rang, and a few seconds later Michael was up on his feet, his expression changing from surprise at the caller's identity to sudden anger.

Five

It had been a calculated risk. One that Susan couldn't resist. Even though she knew Stephanie's fragile state, Susan decided to risk it. She met Stephanie's eyes and gave a wry chuckle at her friend's shocked face.

"I couldn't help it, Steph. It's such a lovely day. I'll put something on if you'd prefer." Susan offered a lopsided grin in apology, hoping her friend would forgive the minor indiscretion. She stepped back and gestured with the sweep of an arm. "Anyway, please come in."

Stephanie hesitated, caught by surprise at Susan's nudity. "I'm not sure about this, she said."

But a minute later she was on the patio, a glass of wine in hand as she eyed two beach towels spread on the lawn with suspicion.

Stephanie sighed. "You said we could talk, have a laugh. I'm not too sure about sunbathing naked with you."

"Oh, come on," Susan replied. She walked across the grass and got down onto one of the towels. "It's so bloody gorgeous, Steph. The sun, at last, warm on my skin. It feels marvellous." Sitting upright she sipped wine; and then winked. "Don't be shy, Stephanie. You've got a lovely body. If I looked as good as you do naked I'd have my clothes off all the time. I'd make men go wild for me." Her eyelid dropped to her cheek again, a lascivious wink full of suggestion as she added, "And the ladies, too. If I was as fit as you, I'd get my kicks by turning everyone on."

Stephanie blushed, her face hot, cheeks burning. There was an appeal to just stripping off and lying out in the sun. It was something daring to do. Not completely wild, just titillating. She threw a glance at Susan, saw her friend's nudity. It would be a thrill. After all nobody could see. Susan's house was in its own grounds with a walled perimeter, completely private. She felt the sun warming her, and was immediately overwhelmed with a reckless excitement, a sudden desire to expose her skin to its smile.

Stephanie's thoughts went back to the previous day: She had let herself be kissed by that woman, and had also kissed Susan in return. She had held those heavy breasts and sucked those nipples. Susan's tongue had found Stephanie's clit, stiff fingers had pushed into her opening; Stephanie had cried out and climaxed while those same digits had made her squirm and groan.

Stephanie's blush deepened and spread. Then she experienced a sudden rush of molten heat between her legs while the pit of her stomach dragged with that leaden weight she recognised as desire.

"If ... If..." Stephanie began before her voice tapered to nothing.

Susan remained silent, her expression feline.

Stephanie sighed, limbs trembling. She swallowed heavily and summoned the courage to articulate what was on her mind.

"If I take my clothes off ... When we're out here, together, on those towels...?

"Will you...?

"Will you kiss me gain, Susan?"

Susan's throat was suddenly thick with desire.

"If you want me to, Stephanie," she said, her voice a glutinous croak. "Is that what you want me to do?"

Stephanie hesitated before nodding. "Yes," she murmured. "I think so."

"Then take off your clothes, Steph." Susan rose to her feet and held out her arms. "Take them off and come here."

By then Stephanie's pussy was oiling. Her hands were shaking as she peeled the sleeveless tee-shirt over her head. Her fingers fumbled with the draw-cord of her loose, flowing leggings. She kicked off her sandals and stood there, self-conscious in her underwear, the cotton trousers pooled around her ankles.

"The rest," Susan muttered, her eyes going over Stephanie's body. "Take them off. Let me see you naked, Steph."

"Oh God," whined Stephanie. "I don't believe I'm doing this," she muttered.

It was time to be firm. Susan recognised that the moment had come to assert her dominance over her friend.

She was in front of Stephanie in three quick strides. "Kiss me, Steph," she urged. Taking hold of Stephanie's hand, Susan lifted it to her breast. "Feel me, darling. Touch me. I want you to touch me while we kiss."

Stephanie moaned into her friend's mouth, her tongue, seemingly of its own accord, snaking around Susan's. She hefted both of those big tits in her palms, her thumbs moving over the nipples, exciting the flesh, teasing the teats to a lengthy firmness while Susan signalled her approval with a groan.

Moments later and Stephanie was naked, on her back, legs wide, her opening exposed to Susan's stare.

Susan splayed Stephanie's labia and grinned. "Your husband's a fucking arsehole," she muttered. "How can he not want to kiss this pussy all fucking day?"

Stephanie gave a lurch, moaning and gasping when Susan lapped at her.

"Oh!" she cried. "You're licking me. Susan ... Dear God, you're licking me again."

Susan chuckled, her forefinger sliding over Stephanie's clitoris.

Her face appeared and she grinned. "Don't sound so surprised," she said.

The blonde head ducked once more. Stephanie moaned and sighed, allowing the sensations to pulse outward from between her legs, capitulating to the dark urges Susan brought forth, her troubles momentarily cast aside.

Six

The car, a big Range Rover, a symbol of John's success, pulled up outside the heavy gates.

"Fucking hell, John," intoned Omar. "You weren't kidding when you said she had a big drum." He leaned forward, head moving slowly from left to right as he took in the high gates and the wall. "I thought I was doing all right with my place. But this is a fucking mansion."

"Ah, she's not short of a bob," John grinned, tipping Omar a wink at the same time. "Dirty Susan has a few quid tucked away." He tapped the side of his nose – nudge nudge, wink wink – then pointed the same finger at Omar. "She had a banker for a husband..."

John rolled his eyes when a splutter came from the rear of the car. He swivelled in the big bucket seat, looking back at Ray. "A proper banker, Ray. I'm talking pounds, shillings and pence. Not like you, lying on your scratcher at your mum's with a dirty book in one hand and your cock in the other, you cunt."

Ray just grinned at him.

John turned back to face the windscreen and continued: "Anyway, old Suze got herself well set up. She made a few investments, divorced the geezer, and here she is ... Fucking minted and as horny as a dog with two cocks."

The window on John's side lowered with a purr of electronic excellence. He reached out and pressed the button on an intercom unit set on a short post.

A brief wait until a voice crackled: "Come up to the house, John. Park outside the front door."

The gates swung open, a slow glide until they locked into place with a metallic clank. The driveway ahead was clear, and John nosed the big car over the gravel.

"Dirty Susan?" Omar said as they rounded a curve and saw the house in front of them. "Did you call her Dirty Susan?"

John chuckled. "Wait and see, mate. Wait and see."

The car halted next to a sleek Mercedes sports car at the same moment the front door of the house opened.

"There she is," said John. He waved to Susan as she stood in the doorway.

"Not bad at all," Omar replied, his eyes taking in the ripe curves. Susan, in an effort towards a modicum of decorum was freshly showered following the pleasant outdoor interlude with Stephanie. She stood there, smiling broadly, a thin, pink cardigan clinging to her torso, the top three buttons loose to reveal a generous swath of skin, breast-flesh bubbling over the cups of her bra, precipitous cleavage on display.

"Look at them jugs!" blurted Ray from the back seat. "Fuck my old boots, she's sexy as fuck." He let his gaze slide from Susan's bosom to the slightly too short skirt, licking his lips when his appraisal stopped at Susan's shoes. He let out a low whistle and shook his head slowly in appreciation of well-turned calves, the muscles pleasingly tensed because of the high, lethal-looking heels Susan wore.

"Keeps her muff waxed smooth, too, lads," John informed his bug-eyed companions. "That's Dirty Susan." He chuckled. "You're in for a treat."

"How did you meet her, John?" Ray asked, voice cracked with eager anticipation. He couldn't wait to get out of the car. This was better than Southend pier and Christmas in one.

"Swingers' club," he was informed.

John opened the door on his side. "Anyway, let's get on with, shall we, boys? I want to see her mate. The fit bird."

"Hello, lads," Susan said. She beamed a delighted smile, her tone husky as she surveyed the delicious array of manhood as the trio climbed the steps towards her. "You must be Omar," she added, the leer an indication that she'd heard good things about him.