No Controlling Legal Authority Ch. 13

She floated toward the door like a smiling vision, straddling the trailing panels as she walked, and her thighs flashed in the light. This is fun, she giggled inwardly; her confidence was soaring, and she was giddy with the sense of her success. Never mind that she stumbled a little on the turns and was a little unsteady on her feet, the boy loved her despite her awkwardness and that's what mattered. His cheers made her feel beautiful and desirable, and they emboldened her to perform for him in ways she couldn't believe.

"More, more," he called out as she slipped from sight. "I want more."

"Honey, I do believe you've got him on the ropes; one more ought to do it, and this is the one." Nancy extended a hanger from which drooped a few flimsy strands of sheer fabric, and declared, "Nightie time."

Imogene smiled uncertainly, but took the offered garment. It had no substance at all, no weight, and it felt like she had been handed a wisp of smoke. She held it to the light for examination, and thin lines of shadow fell across her face. Black lace, sewn together like patches of concentric spiders' webs, had been fashioned into a night jacket and panties. As the circles grew smaller toward the centers of the webs, the fabric became denser, closer, and somewhat less transparent, except that over each breast, in the center where web should have been, there were tiny patches of sheer material, about three inches across, which were matched by a similar patch covering the crotch of the panties. The top fastened by a single satin ribbon high up, just below the neck line, and Imogene put the top on first.

She caught her image in the mirror, and stared in disbelief. She was naked, of course, from the bottom of her ribcage down to the soles of her feet. The black lace top jutted out from her chest barely concealing the shape of her breasts, and fell abruptly from the points of her nipples, which were poking through the tiny, sheer cutouts in the front. She bent and slipped the bottom over her feet and up the firm columns of her thighs, wriggling her butt into them easily. She faced the mirror and was astonished to see the clear outline of her mons pressing against the panel between her legs and the clear impression of ringlets of pubic hair.

"Ooooo, Nancy, I don't know about this; it's so risqué," she cooed, while studying her reflection. She could almost count, through the little panels, the tiny bumps, which had begun to emerge on the pink disks of her areolas as a consequence of her excitement. She rolled her shoulders, and the taut points of her ruddy nipples lifted and threatened to tear through the flimsy fabric of the patches. Soooooo wicked, she thought, trying to suppress her misgivings; he wants to see more of me, this sure lets him.

Nancy stepped behind her and looked over her shoulder at the image in the mirror. She reached around Imogene's waist, passing a brimming goblet to the girl, and whispered, "Look at you, baby; look at that body. Do you look great in that outfit or what? Remember, it's all about how you feel, that's all, now drink up and get out there.

Imogene stared at her reflection. Yes, she thought, bringing the glass to her lips, I do look good. Good figure, good face, great hair, she smiled inwardly, and drained the glass. Cancun beckoned; she could feel the toss of the swells, hear the singing of the Trade Winds blowing through the rigging; bobbing, swaying with the surge of the seas, what was it Nancy had said, oh, yeah, making love in the water without touching. She drifted momentarily, allowing the imagery to sweep her along, and she felt a quickening in her loins in anticipation of accepting that smooth submarine phallus.

"Come here, darling," Nancy said softly so as not to break the spell. The girl nodded vacantly and allowed herself to be led to the door. Nancy turned her around to face her. Imogene's eyes were clouded with that vacant, distant look she had earlier, when she was describing her experience in the library with Billy. Nancy lifted the corners of the top, exposing the girl's pert breasts. Imogene was frozen in space and time; she made no protest, no move to cover herself. Nancy bent, leaning toward the girl's bare chest, and Imogene felt her hot breath on her sensitive skin. She held her breath, waiting, and trembled with anticipation. Nancy's lips, incredibly soft and warm, brushed her nipple, and the girl gasped. Nancy's tongue flicked out and swirled around the taut kernel of her nipple, and the girl moaned in a soft sigh. Suddenly, Nancy's lips parted and her hot, moist mouth engulfed the young woman's nipple and breast. She sucked and stroked the hard, rubbery flesh with her tongue, and Imogene's hands flew to the back of Nancy's head, and she sighed again, "Oooooooo." She arched her back, thrusting her breast deeper into the hot, sucking mouth, and moaned in delight when Nancy responded by increasing the pressure and the speed of her suction. Oh God, if only Rufus did that to her, if only he played with her, teased her, helped her get ready for him, she thought desperately, as the sweet sensations warmed her loins, and she felt the inception of her hot, wet flow. Nancy's mouth abandoned her breast, and she flinched in despair only to relax again as tender lips closed on its twin. She looked down at the woman's head cradled in her hands and at her breast disappearing into her suckling mouth. Ribbons of sensation twisted and spun like streamers on a May Pole, and her breath quickened. Don't stop, she implored the woman from the spinning recesses of her brain; it feels so good, and she abandoned her reserve to the tender stroking of Nancy's deft tongue. That tongue swirled and swept the turgid flesh of Imogene's nipple, licking, sucking, pressing the throbbing node against the rough texture of the roof of her mouth with exquisite pressure, and the girl sagged in glowing ecstasy against the doorway behind her.

"Ooooooo," she gurgled in her throat, and her hands pressed the woman's mouth tightly to her heaving chest. "Aaaaaa," she murmured when the woman's mouth opened upon her and sucked her breast largely into her hot cavern. "Oh God," she whimpered in shocked dismay as she felt a wet warmth flowing in her loins. It can't be, her brain cried out in rejection of her unwanted response to the unnatural stimulation, yet her hands clung to the woman's head encouraging her lips, and her thighs opened involuntarily in expectation of the woman's advancing caress. "Ohhhh, God," she gasped when she felt the sharp edges of Nancy's teeth closing on her swollen nipples, nipping and tugging, pulling the distended points of her breasts, and Imogene's hand dropped reflexively to her panties and snatched the crotch to the side wantonly exposing herself. There, there, she mouthed silently, unable to resist the pressure building in her loins, touch me there, press your fingers into me, if that's what you want; I can't stop you. Her shoulders pressed the door, and she rose on tiptoe as the silken ropes of arousal tightened about her.

"There," Nancy said quietly, breaking the sensuous contact unexpectedly.

"Ugh, ugh," Imogene babbled incoherently when the warm mouth abandoned her wet, gleaming breasts.

"That should do you for now," Nancy said wickedly, and she pulled the jacket across the girl's chest, covering her up once more. She pulled the corners to center the patches over her straining nipples, and, when the first patch was in position, she pressed the fabric against the girl's wet skin with her fingers. Instantly, the sheer fabric was wetted and disappeared for all practical purposes, to reveal the underlying nipple in complete, exquisite detail. She quickly did the same on the opposite side and exposed Imogene's remaining nipple. Imogene leaned against the doorway and felt the muscles in her loins tightening in a rhythmic movement as though seeking an intruder to fasten upon.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned noncommittally from that twilight between relief and frustration. Her hand had fallen limply to her side, but the crotch of her panties remained caught between her leg and her mons, and she was still exposed. Her thighs remained parted and sensations lingered in her nipples and her loins; she made no effort to cover herself or withdraw the offer of her body.

Nancy smirked as the girl's virtue evaporated. For a moment she toyed with the idea of fucking her herself, right there on the dressing room floor, but she shook the notion off as a bad idea. No, not yet, she thought, Archie's waiting, and the cameras are ready to roll; later maybe. She reached between the girl's legs and groped for the elastic band of her crotch. Her fingers brushed her tightly curled hairs, and the girl shivered. Nancy pretended to fumble to attain a grip on the fabric and teased the girl mercilessly. Her fingertips nibbled blindly at the moist fissure, searching for the cloth. The girl bit her lip to keep from crying out her need, as Nancy's fingers inadvertently separated her fleshy lips and slipped through her wetted furrow. Imogene jumped in an ecstatic spasm causing her butt to slap against the door behind her.

"Oops," Nancy apologized insincerely and withdrew her fingers from the girl's gap. Her forefinger fished for the lace covering her belly and finally snagged the material just above the triangle of her pubic hair. She slipped her finger down, pulling the fabric loose, and she tugged it across the girl's throbbing mons. Her movements caused her knuckles to rake the girl's taut clitoris, and with each touch, Imogene moaned and twitched her hips.

Finally tiring of the game, Nancy said, "Go girl," and, surprisingly, she wetted her fingers in her mouth and thrust her hand between the startled girl's legs again, rubbing and moistening that sheer panel until it became wet and disappeared as well.

"Ohhhh," Imogene moaned, opening her thighs wider for the caress, but the Nancy pulled her hand away and opened the door, giving her a push toward the den.

"Take your time, honey; work him and make him sweat a little."

Imogene's nipples led the way, straining against the wet, clinging, fabric, and she was propelled into that dark room on a wave of totally foreign sensual excitement. Her nipples tingled, and her loins throbbed with confused, wanton sensation. Nancy had awakened her senses and quickened her pulse. Her mouth had felt soooo good and her fingers, touching her so intimately had felt wonderful in spite of her reservations. She flowed toward the couch with the seductive grace of a stalking cat, and turned her attention toward the boy with the gleaming eyes.

She moved with silky strides and brushed his knees with her smooth shins. She whirled and shook and offered herself for admiration, and watched his face for signs of adoration. She stepped to the couch and straddled his knees and leaned toward him till her breasts were hanging in his face, and she was appalled by the exhibitionist Nancy had exposed her to be. She captured his knees between her legs and shook her shoulders so her breasts would move, and the boy's eyes opened in wide delight. The sheer fabric clung to her nipples, and he stared at them hungrily. She felt a gnawing desire to stuff them into his gaping mouth, but restrained herself.

She stepped back and spun around, then leaned forward to push her butt at him and shook it with her hands on her knees, while she looked back over her shoulder and tossed him a wicked, inviting grin. She laughed with delight and felt secure in her beauty, and she abandoned her halting, clumsy steps and danced with graceful freedom.

The music, the martinis, the boy's eager chanting, "Go, go, go," put wings on her feet, and her whole body throbbed with tense, sensual energy. She felt hot, on fire, and she flickered with desirability. She burned where Nancy's lips and fingers had touched her, and she thought of throwing herself against the unyielding rock of the fireplace and rubbing herself on the projecting stone for relief. She ached with unaccustomed sexual energy and sought to exhaust her fires by unrestrained gyrations.

Archie watched with rapt attention as the display soared to its conclusion. He was eager now, hungry for what her lewd gestures were promising. She prowled back and forth in front of the couch, turning and posing, dancing away into the shadows, where he could barely discern the fluttering movements of her hands across her breasts and between her legs. The ribbon tie at her throat came undone and her jacket fell open, but she ignored it and marched right to the edge of the light and stood still, while he gawked at her bare, upturned breasts with their hard, pointed, ruby nipples gleaming in the light. She shocked herself by stepping closer toward the boy and examining his face while he drooled at her wet crotch. He shifted on the couch as the music began to trail off. He looked up, toward the ceiling far above the couch, and, when the music died away, he called out, "She's a hottie, mom, ain't she."

"I'd say so, son," Nancy's voice answered from an undisclosed source.

Imogene's movements had slowed with the music, but she wasn't quick to depart the stage. She gaped in astonishment at this exchange between mother and son, and wondered where in hell Nancy's voice was coming from.

"I told you; I told you she was a hottie," Archie called out triumphantly.

"I know, I know," Nancy replied humoring the boy. "I should have listened to you sooner."

"That's right, you should pay more attention to me about stuff."

"All right already, Archie, don't wear it out,” Nancy snapped impatiently.

"Oops," the boy grinned sheepishly at Imogene, who was riveted to the spot, eyes darting from the boy on the couch to an indeterminate spot on the ceiling, where Nancy's voice seemed to be coming from. "Kinda impatient, isn't she?" he said to the girl in a stage whisper.

Archie looked up again and spoke, "How about I show her my hottie meter now, mom. You think she'd like that?"

Nancy's voice boomed back from the ceiling, in a tone reminiscent of God giving Moses the Ten Commandments on the mount, "Go ahead, son; green light's on; we'll find out."

"Come over here, Mrs. Justice. You want me to show you my hottie meter?"

Imogene took a halting step toward the couch. The weird conversation had her dazed and uncertain. What the hell is a hottie meter, she thought drunkenly, squinting at the boy, who was lying back on the couch and fumbling with the knot where the towel was fastened at his side.

"Wha...." she questioned as she thrust her chin toward him trying to see better. She brought her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the overhead light, and looked inquisitively toward him.

"My hottie meter," he repeated, tugging at the knot. "Come here, I'll show it to you. Tells you how hot you are."

Imogene's mental processes were nearly at a stop; she was in a tactile mode and not up to figuring things out, so the things that normally would alert her to be wary went undetected. She stepped closer just as the knot gave way. With a grunt, Archie threw the towel aside exposing himself. He was naked under the towel, and the effects upon the boy of her sensual display were unmistakable. He grinned salaciously at her and reached down to take hold of himself.

"Here it is, Mrs. Justice," he crowed as he urged his penis into an upright position. "Just look at it, would you; my hottie meter says you are one hottie, for sure."

Imogene staggered as though struck by a blow to the head and gasped. The boy's, hell no, not a boy, the man's penis was standing up from his groin like an iron bar, thick, massive, hard as a granite obelisk, and the head was a fierce, angry red. Oh my, she thought, oh my, and she measured him with her eyes in amazement. God, he's huge, and immediately a vision of Rufus' adequate appendage attempted to contest for her attention. Jesus, it's like comparing a finger to a forearm, she thought, banishing Rufus' pale image with a toss of her head, and her eyes and her thoughts remained fixed on Archie's `meter.' She tottered drunkenly and, covertly, stole a glance at her arm measuring the boy against something tangible. Gulping, she flexed her fingers in awe, trying to visualize things and shook her head doubtfully. Cold threads of terror uncoiled in her belly as her self-confidence began to unravel.

"How do you like it, huh?" the boy said ominously, teasing her with it. "Want to feel it and see how hot you are?"

"Oh God," she screamed and fear gripped her. Cold, icy fear that froze her heart and crushed her chest with its numbing grip seized her, and she whirled and bolted for the dressing room. She slammed into the door, wrenching the knob with both hands, as his plaintive voice wailed in the stillness, "Don't go, please, Mrs. Justice, don't go."