Can Do Ep. 06

Oh, yeah, I can give her a pussy full of experience, Trinity mused. The look on Zenova's face said she was thinking the same thing.

"Uh oh." Trinity pushed the other three women further into the alcove as two men punched each other just outside the opening before tripping over two women rolling on the floor. Roderick weaved through the brawl, champagne held high, out of the way. He ducked wild punches, dodged angry kicks, a contented smile on his face. He saw Trinity and waved. A woman hit him in the stomach. He stumbled into a man who punched him in the face. Roderick fell into the pool, not far from where Yelena was now ravaging Ronja's pussy from behind. Both women were dripping wet, completely involved in their fight, oblivious to the tumult around them.

Trinity rushed into the main room, deftly avoiding knots of people who ought to know better, punching and kicking with no sense of purpose other than to hit someone. Several men and women lay on the floor. Some tried to get up. Others lay curled around themselves, whether from pain or from self-protection wasn't clear. The blonde waded into the pool, ignoring Yelena and Ronja. She held out her hand to Roderick. He took it, nodding gratefully.

"What are you doing out here, Bunny?" Trinity had to shout to be heard. "It's not safe."

"Found that out, m'dear," the man said with a lopsided grin. "I saw you wisely stayin' out of the way and was trying to join you. I lost my glass. Don't happen to have another with you?"

"Sorry, fresh out. Can you stand? Good. Now move your ass, Your Grace, or you'll get it kicked again." The blonde shoved Roderick toward the alcove. A man in a torn tuxedo with one eye swollen shut staggered toward them. She ducked roundhouse swing and countered with a left jab to the man's puffy eye. He folded onto the floor, cupping his face. A woman began kicking him.

Back in the alcove Trinity turned to see Eric standing halfway down the stairs across the room, waving his hands futilely. Several servers stood behind him. Most looked like they'd been hit at least once.

"Quite the free-for-all, eh?" Roderick said to Shiobhán. "Call me Bunny. Who are you? Do you have any champagne? What's that?" He swiveled his head.

"Siren," Zenova sighed.

"Fuck," Trinity exclaimed. "The cops. Who called them? We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Doesn't matter, love," Zenova said. "If we stay hidden, we may not be arrested. What about them?" She pointed her chin at Yelena and Ronja.

"What did you call me?" Trinity asked. Before Zenova answered, the brunette was out into the room again, dress hiked up, splashing through the pool to the fighters.

Yelena seemed to be winning. At least she was the one with her cock in a pussy. It was hard to tell from her face. She seemed to be struggling with not coming, which meant Ronja was using her Kegel muscles in a way the Russian hadn't expected.

"Hey," Zenova yelled over the noise. "Get out of the pool and over here. Unless you want to go to jail."

That roused both women. Yelena stood, her erect cock waving in the air. A stream of cum erupted from the slit. Zenova helped Ronja to her feet. Cum-- a lot of it--oozed from her pussy. Her cock was clean, but it had been the water for several minutes, so it wasn't clear if she'd come as well. The three women waded along the pool dodging koi and fighting guests until they were back in the alcove.

"I was rooting for both of you," Roderick said grandly to Ronja and Yelena. "Call me Bunny."

The sirens were louder now. Some of the guests heard and tried to escape the tangled knot in the center of the main room. It was too late. Blue uniforms appeared from the entrance hall, night sticks raised and ready.

"You can't be seen," Zenova told the naked fighters. "The police will assume you started this."

"Here." Trinity pulled back the curtain, revealing a space big enough for both women. "Get in here. Try not to kill each other."

The other four, Trinity, Zenova, Shiobhán, and her manager--whose name was Maureen and turned out to be Shiobhán's mother--pressed into the recesses of the dark alcove. Zenova stood behind the young Irishwoman, fondling the redhead's cock under her short dress. Maureen had a hand laid gently on Trinity's growing erection. The blonde wriggled her hips. She didn't feel a cock push against her, but that didn't mean the older woman wasn't enjoying the pressure. Roderick sat on the floor, watching with great interest.

It took almost fifteen minutes for the police to clear the main room. Torn clothing, shattered glass, blood, and some hair littered the floor. Eric spoke earnestly into a cell phone as a sergeant waited next to him. Another cop wandered the room, kicking idly at the trash, staring at the koi in the pool who were swimming as if nothing had happened. He peered into the alcove, jerking away in surprise when found four women and a man hiding there.

"Qui êtes-vous?" the cop asked. Trinity recognized the tone if not the words. Who are you? Papers, please.

Zenova spoke to him in rapid French, pointing first to the main room and then to herself and the other four. She motioned at Roderick and Trinity, waving her hand at the pool. The cop nodded uncertainly, taking in the blonde's soaking trousers and the bruise on Roderick's face. He didn't appear convinced by what Zenova was telling him.

Eric appeared at the cop's shoulder, trailed by the sergeant. He spoke to the cop in soft, calm French, then gestured to the sergeant, who motioned the cop away with a weary hand. They left together, the sergeant saying something to Eric over his shoulder.

"What a mess," Trinity said, stating the obvious.

"A disaster," Eric said. He shook his head. "To have a fight break out among guests is bad--not unheard of but bad. To have the police arrive is catastrophe."

"Who called them? Not us," Shiobhán told him.

"No one called. A passing police car was nearly hit by a car leaving the grounds without its lights on. They heard the noise and radioed for help. I think I have made sure that our guests will be released within an hour. Except for the two who started it. They will remain with the police for some time. Where are Ronja and Yelena? They were not taken away."

Trinity pulled back the curtain. The Swede and the Russian stood nose to nose, eyes locked. Each held the other's balls in a tight grip. A growing puddle of cum spread across the floor.

"Don't you ever stop?" Trinity said, surprised at how much like her mother she sounded. Before she started drinking.

"We are not finished," Yelena said. "I am winning. There is time left."

"Unfortunately, no," Eric said, his voice plain there would be no arguments. "The match was interrupted by the riot. It is over. You have the choice of accepting a draw or a no contest. Choose now. My patience for this evening is at an end."

"Draw," the women said at the same time.

"When can we fight again?" Yelena pressed.

"I have no idea. Your managers are banned. You must find others before we will consider another match. Do you have a way to your hotel?"

The Russian shook her head.

"There are car keys in my bag. Upstairs." Ronja frowned, realizing what was coming. "I will drive you to your hotel," she told Yelena. "You were not winning. I was wearing you down before I fucked you to my victory."

"Liar. You were close to fainting from pleasure. I would win."

The women shoved noses, nipples, and cocks together. Trinity separated the naked women with a weary sigh. Why do I have to be the adult?

"Save it for later, ladies," she said. "You'll get you chance. Take you three days to recover?"

"Sooner. We did not finish fight," Yelena said. "Which I was winning." Trinity stepped between them before Ronja did something rash. She whispered to each, pointing at Eric. The women looked shocked, then whispered back. Trinity nodded, motioning at Eric again. The fighters came to a mutual decision, shaking hands warily. Trinity whispered to Zenova who dug in her opera bag, handing the Swede a small card. They left the alcove and went up the stairs. Ronja went last, getting good view of Yelena's cock framed by a cum-slicked pussy. They'd been doing something other than squeezing balls behind the curtain. Trinity wondered how they managed to fuck in such a small space.

"What did you tell them?" Eric asked.

"That you'd kick their asses if they didn't agree." Trinity's eyes twinkled.

Eric shook his head. He bent to speak to Roderick. "You are unharmed, Your Grace?"

"Mostly. Lost my drink." Roderick got to his feet, brushing at his sodden tuxedo. "This one, the lovely Trinity, saved me from a potentially uncomfortable discussion with the local gendarmes. For which I am extremely grateful." He fixed a remarkably clear eye on Eric.

"Yes, I understand. It is exactly the reason why they were not taken with the rest." Eric spoke to Zenova in French. The brunette flushed, bowing her head briefly.

The man turned to Trinity. "The Consortium value loyalty and quick thinking. You and Zenova showed both by rescuing a valued member and keeping Ronja and Yelena--and us--from unwanted attention. This did not go unnoticed."

"Is my car still here?" Roderick asked. "Or has it been impounded? Again."

"Your Bentley is in the yard."

"You can't drive," Trinity protested. "Not with all the champagne you drank. We'll take you home or somewhere."

"Not necessary," Roderick stood, all traces of drunkenness gone. "It was sparkling water. I like to keep m' wits about me at soirees like this, y'know. Never can tell what one might learn when people think you're legless." He winked, a wickedly amused cast to his face. "Thanks for the offer. One more reason to be impressed with you."

He drew a card from his coat pocket, offering it to Zenova with a flourish. "Mademoiselle de Crie. If you and your alluring companion might do me the honor of dinner and some post prandial entertainment, I am at your service. Remember, call me Bunny." He bowed, shook Eric's hand and strolled out of the house.

Eric watched him leave. He turned around slowly, taking in the devastation with increasingly sagging shoulders. "It was such a nice house. Too bad the police are aware of it." He faced the four women. "You should go now. The road will be clear. Our friends in the Police Fédérale will have contained things as best they can. Again, my thanks for your help. You, young woman," he spoke to Shiobhán, "can learn much from these two. Not all of it physical." He bowed and actually clicked his heels. Then he, too, was gone.

In the silence, Trinity took Zenova's hand. "I didn't get to see you fight."

The brunette kissed her. "Perhaps we can fix that. What time is it?"

"Should be about nine, uh, twenty-one hours," Trinity said. They'd arrived at seven-thirty, spent half an hour chatting, then watched the fight which was over half an hour with the introductions. The riot was ten minutes or less, with another fifteen to haul everyone away.

"Yes," Maureen confirmed, consulting a wrist watch. "Amost twenty-one."

"Shiobhán," Zenvoa said. "Would you care to have a friendly contest at our home this evening? See what you have learned since our last match? You can follow us in your car."

The young redhead shook like puppy being offered treat. "Mother? I can use that hold you taught me."

"It's not official?" Maureen asked. Zenova shook her head.

"No, sadly. But, it can be more fun. As we don't have to follow all the rules. Meaning, for one, that the manager can participate. As well as Trinity."

The older redhead said nothing for long seconds as her daughter nearly hopped from foot to foot.

"Well, in that case, as long as Shiobhán can learn something. Yes. Stop fidgeting, girl. We need to find our car. We will meet you at the road?"

Zenova nodded. Shiobhán pulled her mother through the entrance hall. Trinity and Zenova followed slowly, hand in hand.

"You said 'our home' three times, and 'lover' a bunch--in public," Trinity said in a remarkably calm voice.

"Yes," Zenova answered with barely a quaver. "Yes, I did."