Deep Blue Ch. 05


"That bit of good news comes along with a sad note," Skip continued. "I'm afraid that to cinch the deal, I was forced to grant the publisher her wishes in some other areas. I realize it's not going to come as good news to many of you, but she didn't like the fact that my name has been associated with erotica. That means, unfortunately, that Misty," he brandished a floppy disk that must have come from his jacket pocket, "the just completed Book 4 of Outside Paris, will never be published."

The crowd briefly blinked in confusion and then rose to their feet again, this time with a howl of outrage and anguish. Skip looked completely taken aback at the roar of objection from all sides.

I looked around and started feeling nervous about all the people. These people looked pissed. I felt an impending sense of doom.

Hawk looked at Jo and me, slapping the table. "That's it. Time to go."

Skip was shouting and trying to talk over all the people that were crowding the podium, but all I could hear was something about "having no choice" and "having already pulled the other books from the web."

It was getting even uglier than I'd feared. Some of these people were really angry, shouting things like "sellout," and "traitor." Someone shouted that if Skip followed through, he might just kill his sorry ass. Wine Maker and his wife waved at us as we departed, maintaining their seats amidst the chaos. Wine Maker was busy scribbling notes while his wife just shook her head at the swirling swarm of erotica writers.

We were almost to the door when it burst open and another group of people rushed into the room. The distinguished looking gentleman at their lead looked vaguely familiar to me, but Hawk obviously knew him since she abruptly stopped in her tracks and started backing up.

"Oh, shit!" she said as the man speared her with a righteous glare from less than ten feet away.

"I am sadly disappointed to find you here, Hawk," he said sadly, shaking his head. "You've let sin take over your life if these are the kind of people you choose to associate with. What would your husband say?" The other people spread out behind him and I realized this must be the Right Reverend Swaggwell.

"I don't need to explain anything to you or your kind, Reverend," Hawk said defiantly. "For your information, I don't have a husband. I have a wife. I'm a lesbian."

My stomach tightened at the flash of anger in the depths of Swaggwell's eyes. They were the eyes of a fanatic. I grabbed Hawk by the shoulder and started pulling her back.

Swaggwell shifted his angry gaze to me. "The two of you are abominations against God, and you'll burn in Hell. Still, it's not too late to turn back from the gates of Hell. Pray to God for forgiveness and repent." Then he stalked past us, with the crowd at his heels glaring their hatred at all four of us as they passed.

"Pornographers!" Swaggwell shouted at the crowd, quickly getting their full attention. "Sodomites and sinners! With every filthy word, you condemn yourselves to everlasting damnation! Repent," he commanded in a stern voice. "Repent before God strikes you down wherever he finds you!"

"Oh, shit, is right," I said weakly. "Let's get the hell out of here right now!"

Hawk was all for wading back into the developing brawl but allowed the three of us to drag her out the door to the sounds of a riot growing behind us. A crewman was standing in the hall talking on a cell phone in Italian, gesticulating with both hands. I wasn't sure how that helped the person on the other end of the connection understand him, but I could make a good guess at what he was calling about.

We passed half a dozen crewmen running toward the convention room as we got to the elevators. We'd escaped just in time, it seemed.


Over the next few hours, we changed, tracked the men down and made arrangements to get a larger table for all of us at dinner. It was amazing what pull having the Presidential Suite had. Our serving time started just after dark.

Gretchen even coaxed Trish out of the bathroom to join us. She was still blushing prettily, and I gave her a warm smile to offset her embarrassment.

With our new friends, that made nine people, so one of the big circular tables was perfect. As we were ordering our drinks, the dining room started to fill up with well-dressed guests, and the babble of voices was actually relaxing.

Hawk told the rest of our friends about the details of the riot and had everyone's undivided attention. At least she did until Skip Niccio walked in, huffed his way over to a small, two-person table about twenty feet away and glared at Trish.

I put my hand on Trish's leg under the table and she relaxed at once, smiling her thanks at me. She proceeded to pretend Skip wasn't there while I returned his glare with a big smile. I could see it was infuriating him further, and that made me feel perversely pleased with myself. I looked over at Hawk to share my amusement, but she was glaring at something to my side.

When I turned and looked, I was less than pleased to see the Right Reverend staring at us as though he was going to drive the sin right out of us from his own small table. He was glaring at me in particular. I wondered why until I remembered that I had my hand on Trish's leg, and he thought I was Hawk's wife. I was a lesbian, and perhaps even worse in his eyes, a promiscuous lesbian.

Well, I figured I was pretty much damned in his eyes now anyway, wasn't I? I supposed this also meant I was off his Christmas fund raising drive for sure, so maybe there was an upside. The little devil inside me started whispering that sometimes already being damned could be a big plus.

I looked back over and made sure that Skip was still glaring at Trish and then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then I slid my hand further along Trish's leg, to the hem of her skirt.

Trish gasped slightly and turned her head to gaze at me in surprise.

I smiled at her and raised an eyebrow questioningly, giving her the option to tell me no.

Trish blushed prettily and looked to Gretchen, but she was engaged in an animated discussion with Hawk. Probably about the Reverend. She did catch Sandy's attention, though. An unspoken communication of looks and head gestures took place in seconds. A man would never have understood Trish, but Sandy just looked stern, almost commanding, as she nodded to Trish.

When Trish looked back at me, the blush had faded into a flush around her neck and chest. Her pupils had become a little unfocused with arousal, and she nodded to me.

I leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. "You don't have to," I whispered. "I just thought it would tweak Skip and the Reverend. And because I find the thought of touching you in front of all these people, with none of them knowing what's happening, erotic. It turns me on like a firecracker."

"I want you to," she whispered back. "I'm still not sure what I'm doing, but this excites me. It excited me when Sandy told me what to do. I know I can say no, but when it looks like she's making me do something, I get all hot inside."

"Then we need to talk about what submission is later. For now, try to not scream or moan. I want you to come but not let anyone else even know. Do you understand?"

Trish nodded dreamily. "I'll do what you tell me to do, Lisa."

By now, Gretchen and Hawk were looking at us. A glance told me that everyone at the table was, and a bit of a blush rose in me. Sandy was grinning like nobody's business. She must have narced me out to everyone else. I looked to Gretchen to see if she was going to wave me off.

Gretchen was watching Trish like a hawk, and an unspoken communication seemed to travel between them. There weren't even the facial gestures that she used with Sandy. With a smile and a nod, Gretchen also gave me the green light.

With a last glance at the Reverend, I shifted my gaze to Skip. "Trish, honey," I said in a normal voice, "I want you to look at Skip. Keep your attention on him and tell everyone what I'm doing. Keep it low enough that only we can hear you. If a server or someone else comes up, you stop talking and play it cool. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lisa," Trish said in a dreamy, but understandable voice. "Lisa has her hand on my leg, with her fingers just under the hem of my skirt. Just thinking about it has me all wet inside."

I focused my attention on Skip and smiled at him again. I let my hand begin to wander up Trish's thigh and listened to her as if she was describing someone else doing what I was doing. The split perception of doing something and hearing a description of it from her was making me so hot.

"Now she's sliding her hand up my thigh," Trish said, "Her fingers are just barely touching the hem of my panties." Her eyes moved along from person to person at the table making eye contact. They all seemed riveted, leaning forward to listen to her every word.

Gently, I slid the fabric of her panties aside and began tracing my fingertip up and down the slowly swelling lips of her pussy. She breathlessly described the incredible sensations she was feeling and her words lit a fire inside me. I slowly slid a finger between her labia and rubbed her clit.

Trish's eyes tried to roll back into her head but she kept control with a shuddering breath. "God, Lisa's rubbing my clit. I feel like a volcano is erupting inside me." She focused her eyes on Keven. "It's not as good as when it was your tongue, but it's here in front of hundreds of people. Skip is watching me. I can tell he knows what Lisa's doing, and that alone makes it somehow more intense."

Trish was right about one thing. She felt hot enough for a volcano to be erupting between her legs. I twisted my hand and gently slid two fingers inside my new friend. It was like slipping my fingers into liquid metal. She was hot and dripping wet. I felt a matching heat blazing between my own thighs as the exhibitionist in me realized what a show I was putting on.

Now Trish's eyes did roll back into her head for a moment and she gasped. Not loud enough to garner any fresh attention, but the matching looks of outrage confirmed that both Skip and the Reverend knew exactly what my hand was doing between Trish's legs.

I leaned against Trish again and kissed her neck softly, whispering into her ear. "You're losing concentration, Trish. Pull yourself together and look at Skip."

Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus on Skip. I doubt she was really looking at him, but she was at least looking toward him.

"Lick your lips slowly," I commanded her. "Let him know exactly how much you're enjoying me finger fucking you. Tell me you like it."

"God, I love it," she said. "Your fingers feel so good inside me. I'm so turned on that I could come just thinking about it. I love you telling me what to do."

The tablecloth hid most of the action and I gave into temptation and slid my own skirt up onto my lap, pulling Trish's hand between my legs. If Trish was going to have a good time as a submissive, then I had a duty to see that she explored that side of herself fully.

"Do to me what I'm doing to you," I told her firmly.

Trish never even hesitated. Her fingers were a bit awkward when she slid them into my pussy, but she picked up the rhythm almost at once.

"Trish is sliding two fingers inside me right now," I told everyone. "Watch her make love to me in front of Skip and Swaggwell." I might have started behind Trish, but she had me squirming in my seat as badly as I had her in seconds.

Skip had his eyes locked on mine and he seemed paralyzed. I smirked and let my gaze wander around to see if anyone else had noticed our antics. I did see Price, but his angle was too bad to see anything at all. He was spending his time staring at Ted. The only other person watching our table was a man dressed impeccably in a dark suit. His gaze fell on me and almost knocked me out of the moment. It was his eyes. They were so cold and unemotional. Then he smiled thinly and looked away, seemingly splitting his attention with everyone around him, though he could have been looking longer at Price, Skip or the Reverend. It was hard to say.

I looked away from him and forced my eyes back to Ted's. "Trish is going to make me come, Ted. Right here in the middle of a packed dining room. Does that excite you?"

Ted nodded, his eyes bright with a mixture of lust and love. "Oh, yes," he said. "Tonight, you get rewarded, Sweet Lisa. But you have a problem."

Trish was starting to lose her battle to keep her face from showing her excitement and I knew she was so close to coming that it would only take another minute to push her over the top.

"What problem is that, Sexy?" I asked him huskily.

"Okay, which of you has the lobster and baked potato?" the voice of our waiter asked from right behind me.

I almost flew out of the chair in surprise and flushed deeply as I smiled back at him. "Sorry, that's me." My voice sounded guilty, and it also sounded like I was being fucked. Which I was. Trish never even slowed down pumping her fingers inside me. Oh, God. I could feel my internal heat soaring as she did me right in front of this stranger. I had to break her attention, or I was going to shoot off like a bottle rocket. I buried my fingers inside Trish and started rubbing her G spot.

Trish was barely able to tell him that she was also having lobster before her eyes seemed to lose focus again. Luckily, he was already past her and dealing with everyone else, who were doing their best to distract the server's attention.

Trish stiffened and gasped softly. Keven immediately focused the server's attention on himself, taking him to task for some imaginary defect in his meal while Trish's hot sex began rhythmically clamping down on my fingers as she humped my fingers and came in a rush.

That pushed me over the top and I had to clamp my jaws almost painfully as I came all over sweet Trish's fingers. Together we writhed in our seats for what seemed like minutes but had to have only been seconds. I almost gasped as Trish slid her fingers out of me with a wet sucking feeling that I could almost swear I actually heard.

I swallowed and sat back in my own chair, fumbling to get my underwear back across my throbbing sex and my skirt down. I was weak from the force of the orgasm and Trish didn't looked much better. Frankly, she looked like she'd just been fucked senseless. I wondered if I looked any better. Probably not.

With a wicked grin at Trish, I brought my hand to my face and took a deep breath, breathing in her scent. How could the server miss smelling aroused female at this table? Maybe he was gay?

Trish blushed deeply and brought her own hand to her lips. I watched her take a deep breath of her own, and then her small, pink tongue began licking my juices off her hand while her eyes smoked at me.

Trembling with an aftershock of passion, I joined her is cleaning myself with my tongue. Admittedly, the only pussy I'd ever tasted beside my own had been Hawk's, but hers seemed as different from Hawk's as Hawk's was from my own. Still, it seemed to taste like innocence. She tasted crisp and sweet, like an apple straight from the tree.

"I've never tried this... sauce... before, Lisa," Trish said with hardly a tremor in her voice. "You were right. I think I could become very used to something so good. It's not like the... steak sauce... at all."

Her knowing smile made me laugh. She was teasing me!

"I'm more partial to the steak sauce myself, but Hawk swears by the lobster dip," I quipped back.

"It is finger-licking good, isn't it?" our server asked with an unknowing grin is he finished setting the last of the food on the table. "Though I agree with you about the steak sauce being better."

Everyone at the table burst out laughing and the server let his eyebrows climb with confused amusement and made sure we had everything we needed. Then he pushed the cart away, shaking his head at our antics.

"You're so bad!" Jo said with a wild grin. "That was incredibly risky! What if someone had seen something?"

"Someone did," I smirked, looking over toward Skip's table. It was empty now. That made me laugh even harder. We'd run him off! "Skip was watching. And the Reverend."

"He's gone now," Hawk said with a wry smile. "I didn't see him go, but you must have driven him crazy. God knows you drove me crazy." Her eyes glinted with lust. Then she kissed Gretchen thoroughly.

That set off a wave of hot kisses between the committed partners. Ted's hot mouth devoured mine and my heart was a trip hammer in my chest. I knew I couldn't but I wanted to take him right here.

Finally, he let me up for air and pulled my hand to his lips. He sucked at my fingers, his hot and agile tongue reminding me of the pleasures he would be giving me tonight. He sucked my fingers like he was giving me a mini-blowjob, stripping the last of Trish's juices from my hand.

"Trish wants you," he said with a smile, and then went back to his loving task.

I turned my head and she was right there, clamping her lips to mine in a hot kiss that reignited the furnace from earlier. It was intense, but brief. I think I'd have to get Gretchen to let me help with the kissing lessons.

"Thank you," she said too softly for anyone but me to hear. "Thank you for knowing what I wanted, even if I didn't."

"We'll talk about it some more after dinner," I assured her. "Thank you for making one of my wildest fantasies come true."

The kissing finally ended, and we all looked around guiltily to see if anyone else had noticed. The few smiles that came our way were of the amused kind. So, they'd noticed the kissing but missed the mutual masturbation. That filled me with an incredible feeling of power and control.

"For some reason I'm starved," I told everyone.

They laughed hysterically, and we all dug into our food as though we were starved.


An hour later, we were sitting among the wreckage of dinner. We'd wolfed it all down and done serious damage to the desert cart, too. I'd need to settle my dinner down before I could even think about raping Ted.

I pushed my chair back and stood up. "I don't know about all of you, but I need a walk in the moonlight to clear my head and put dinner to rest."

"Good idea," Ted said. "Let's go out to the railing and maybe watch the moonlight on the ocean? The sun's been down long enough that it should be nice and dark out." There were nods all around the table, and we all got up and made our way out of the dining room.

Not only was it dark out, but the moonlight glinted beautifully off the rolling ocean below us. It was incredibly romantic, and I pulled Ted into a deep kiss. His arms molded me against his body, and it was almost like we were making love in a pool of the silver light. The fact that the overhead lamp was out, and the only strong light we were getting came from the moon, added to the surreal nature of the kiss. I would have let him do anything to me for as long as he wanted, even though I longed to drag him off to the suite and out to our private balcony to make love to me.

However, that moment was so perfect it couldn't last. "Hey, someone left their jacket out here," Trish said.

I pulled my lips away from Ted's as Trish came out of the pool of darkness that filled the forward-most corner of the observation deck. The jacket looked damaged. Someone must have left it out on one of the seats.

"Let me see that," Hawk said abruptly. The strum of suspicion in her voice hit me like fingers stroking a harp sharply. That was her "cop" voice.

Hawk took the jacket from Trish and waddled toward the closest working light. She stopped under the light and looked the jacket over closely. Trish had been right about the jacket being torn. One sleeve had been almost ripped off.

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