Entertaining at Large Ch. 06

'Why doesn't that surprise me? What did you do?'

'Took everything off and then went and cried in the toilets. Took about three minutes.'

She started laughing which allowed me to join in. We were soon gurning at each other, trying to imitate the faces of customers as seen from the stage. I admitted to her that I was only doing it because of the thrill I got from turning men on. She looked at me quizzically.

'So why the photos? Is Mr J going to let you watch while he looks at them?'

I was a little taken aback, but had to admit that the idea appealed.

'No. He will masturbate, I'm sure, in the privacy of his own bedroom.'

I pictured his thin dick and what it had felt like in my own hand. I subconsciously wiped my palm against my leg.

'I suppose with Mandy there were thousands of men she'd never meet wanking over her pictures. I think for me it's probably something similar but on a smaller scale. That and the fact that he is nice and I am very fond of him. It would be a turn on to think there were hundreds more like him tugging at their todgers whilst looking at me. Don't you think?'

I pulled a cross-eyed face and panted loudly whilst waving my wrist theatrically. I told her about Wot's use of the term "hand job" and we spent a few minutes practising the phrase using different European accents. We decided Polish was best.

'You have a lot of men friends, don't you? Wish I did, all the boys I know just want to get in your pants.'

I thought about it and told her that until a year ago I was probably in the same position. I considered how that had changed with the lads, Mr J and George.

'I think you have to know what you want from a relationship and then make it clear what's on offer.'

She looked confused. I wasn't making myself clear.

'Since Dave left. Well, since I kicked Dave out, I've stopped playing games. I found I liked hanging out with the football team and told them sex was not an option. We became friends.'

She looked sceptical and was obviously thinking about Barry. I brought Miss Powderpuff out of the closet.

'I discovered that telling men what to do actually worked. They like it, well some of them do. You should try it. You might get knocked back sometimes but you'll end up with mates who will look after you if things get tough.'

She didn't seem convinced and had suddenly started looking really tired.

'Time for bed, I think. I'll make myself up the sofa. You can sleep upstairs.'

'Don't be silly. It's your house. I'll sleep on the sofa.'

We metaphorically batted the sofa back and forwards for a while. The obvious solution was for us both to share the big bed upstairs. It was king-sized and it would not be the first time a female friend and I had shared it. But I was thinking, now, about the clinch in the pub and how much it had turned me on. That and Scarlett's vulnerable state after her recent beating. Could I trust myself not to make a move on her?

'We should share the bed. That way we'll both be comfortable.'

'OK.'

I would sort the rest out later. I found her a toothbrush and a guest towel and let her use the bathroom first. We smiled at each other as we passed in the hall. I finished getting ready for bed - I was wearing my warmest fleece nightie -- and gave myself a long stare in the mirror.

'Nothing is going to happen.'

Scarlett was already in bed when I got back to the room. She was back in my pyjamas and snuggled up on the side of the bed I usually slept in. She had left the side light on, presumably for comfort, and her hair looked like tongues fire where it stretched over the pillow. I walked round the foot and slipped in on what had been Dave's side trying not to disturb her. I slowly stretched myself out almost hugging the edge of the mattress and tried to relax. I put an arm over my eyes; it was the position I normally slept in.

'Does the light disturb you?'

She had obviously been watching me.

'No, no. Not at all.'

'I can turn it off if you prefer.'

'Its fine. I always sleep like this.'

'Like you're about to roll off onto the carpet?'

She laughed softly to herself. I had tried to sound irritable when answering her questions in the expectation that she would stop asking them. That clearly wasn't working for me, so I turned on my side to face her. Scarlett had already propped herself up on an elbow and was studying me carefully. She casually reached out and brushed away a lock of hair which had fallen across my eye.

'I wanted to make sure you had enough room.'

'What for? The hundred yards sprint?'

She continued to stroke my hair and the side of my face as she smiled down at me. I felt confused. I did not know what to do with my own hands so I clasped them in front of me. Scarlett moved imperceptibly towards me.

'What are you doing?'

'Remember when you kissed me... When we kissed?'

'Yes?'

She was staring intently at me; examining every inch of my face.

'I liked it.'

I looked away. I had no idea what was happening. Of course I remembered the kiss: the shock, the desire. If she had been a guy I would have her cock in my mouth by now. But this was Scarlett; she was hurting.

'You don't know what you're saying.'

'I want to do it again. Don't you?'

That would be a really stupid thing to do. I liked men not girls. Yes, I had messed around with Tracy. But this was different. I couldn't do it. We shouldn't do it.

'Yes.'

My bloody mouth again, I thought. She moved her hand behind my neck and pulled her to me as she fell on me. Like before, we both stopped for a moment when our lips met. Then it was madness. She pushed her tongue into my mouth and I let her. Enjoying her hot breath as it pumped into me; fighting to get my own tongue passed hers to taste the sweetness of her mouth. We grappled and pushed against each other. She gripped my hair so every movement I made hurt. That did it stop me. I ground my mouth against hers; we seemed to be competing to see who could open theirs widest. I threw an arm around her neck to pull her even closer and heard her cry out. The noise seemed to vibrate in my own throat. I pulled back.

'Did I hurt you?'

'A bit.'

She rolled onto her back and lay still for a moment staring at the ceiling. I watcher her chest rise and fall, the shape of her small breasts appearing against the thick material of the jacket and then retreating into its folds.

'Sorry.'

'Don't be.'

She started to laugh, then groaned and rubbed her ribs to ease her discomfort.

'We should stop.'

'Have you ever met Miss Powderpuff?'

'Who?'

She laughed for as long as the pain in her ribs would let her.

'You told me. Tell people what you want and make them do it.'

'I did?'

'You did.'

'But that was different.'

She rolled over to me again and started kissing me gently on the lips. They arrived as brief soft flutters of her lips against mine. I tried not to respond, but I couldn't resist. I started to kiss back trying to match her pace and pressure. We both moved our hands up to hold the other's face. It felt gentle and soft and safe; the kisses became longer, this time without the initial violence. After a kiss so long and languorous that we only stopped when our mixed saliva started to trickle down our faces and onto the pillow, I pulled away again.

'We should stop. You're in pain.'

'Not as much as you'll be in if you do.'

I grinned at her smiling face.

'But what can we do? You're injured all over.'

'You ever heard the phrase "be gentle with me"? Perhaps in one of your books? I read it in a historical romance I picked up at the hairdresser's. Well stole actually.'

'PG Wodehouse never let his characters get to the stage where the question of gentleness needed to be brought up.'

'More fool him.'

She struggled across the gap between us and we gently embraced. I could feel her breasts rising and falling against mine and the weight of her head on my shoulder. She ran her fingers through my hair again and I reciprocated, enjoying the soft silkiness of her main which stretched down her back almost to her arse. She eased me back with gentle pressure on my shoulder; we adjusted out bodies so that we could focus on each other's eyes.

'I want to kiss you all over.'

'You do?'

'I want to kiss your eyes; and your nose; and your ears; and your neck.'

With each phrase she touched the parts she was naming with her lips. She had a hand on my neck, but I moved slowly to let her enjoy me. I felt I was getting the faintest of massages. Her hand move down to my shoulder and I held my breath.

'I want to take your breasts in my mouth and suck them like ripe peaches.'

She moved her hand quickly down over the thick nightgown and gripped my right breast firmly.

'I read that in the same book. I'll lend it to you if you like.'

I gasped as she found my nipple and squeezed it, not hard. My breathing continued in deeper breaths now I felt her fingers move down across my belly.

'I want to stick my tongue in your belly button and make you giggle.'

She pushed a firm finger into my stomach. Close, but no cigar, I thought. Her hand continued to move.

'I will lick your bum all over with long strokes of my tongue.'

Her hand demonstrated. I could feel my pussy, already moist, twitch in anticipation on what was coming next. The material of my nightgown was bunched and folded from her stroking and from the moves I made when I slightly parted my thighs, but I still felt a jolt as she pushed against my pussy and left her hand there.

'I want to taste your juices; I want to probe you with my fingers; I want to suck your little clit until you squirt into my mouth.'

She stopped for breath and I pushed my crutch against her hand moaning gently.

'I want to hear you shout and scream when you come and I want you to do the same things to me.'

'That Tracy is a right grass.'

She threw herself back panting hard. I worried I had said the wrong thing until I heard her fractured laughter. I raised myself on my forearm and tried to look serious.

'We can do this another time if you're in too much pain.'

She pushed a hand up against my face. I presume she was trying to cover my mouth to stop me talking rubbish, but one of her fingers accidentally went up my nose. I rolled onto my own back and almost fell out of the bed, partly with the shock, but mostly so she wouldn't see me laughing.

'I want to pick your nose and eat your bogeys.'

I breathed the words in a take-off of her earlier quiet endearments. I felt cheap immediately, but it was funny. You had to be there. Scarlett was, and soon both of us were almost hysterical.

It was a very controlled hysteria. She kept jolting to a halt and crying out through her laughs when she put pressure on one of her bruises. Or when I inadvertently touched her in a sensitive spot. I must have looked like a semaphore expert stuck in a phone box as I tried to keep my flailing arms away from her wounds whilst at the same time not tumbling from under the duvet and hitting the carpet.

It was a good five minutes before both of us were in any state to continue with anything. I waited for my chest to stop heaving.

'Sorry about that. It was inappropriate.'

I struggled to a sitting position so we could talk more comfortably.

'Help me out of these.'

Scarlett was pulling at the buttons on the pyjama jacket. Discussion over. I pulled the nightdress over my head and tossed it aside enjoying the coolness of the room. I lifted Scarlett's hands from where she was still scrabbling at the buttons and gently laid them beside her on the bed. She sighed, I hoped contentedly.

The buttons gave easily in my fingers and I eased the thick flannel back over her shoulders exposing her breasts. Her nipples were tiny, they felt hard as I nuzzled them with my lips and glowed red in the lamp light when I drew back. Getting the jacket off was an altogether harder job. Scarlett winced as I lifted her to pull her arms out of the sleeves. I murmured apologies; she shook her head in dismissal and bit her lip. I kissed her mouth to make her stop.

'Just say "velvet" if it hurts too much.'

And I kissed her again.

I lifted the duvet off us both and roughly folded it at the base of the bed. The pyjama trousers slid down easily, I gently stroked the bruises which shined lividly in the light. At her feet I eased the loose clothing free and threw it away. I was enthralled by the view in front of me when I roved my eyes upwards. She looked perfect; slim as a boy her hips only slightly defined over fine legs. The red strip of her pubic hair left after careful shaving was almost garish, it was topped with the slightest dusting of gold fluff which led towards her perfect navel.

Her pussy was a thin slit solely defined by the shadows cast across her body. There was a small dew drop shining at its top. I bent down licked it away running its tangy taste around my mouth with my tongue. I murmured my appreciation. I helped Scarlett ease her legs apart, if it was uncomfortable for her she disguised it well. Her slightly parted lips were moist, I studied them appreciatively. It struck me that this was my first time contemplating another woman's vagina with lust in my heart. I had to think about what to do.

Of course, I had been on the receiving end of cunnilingus for the best part of a decade. They ranged from mediocre to mind-blowing. I wanted this one to be spectacular. I ran my tongue along the inside of Scarlett's thigh, something I always enjoyed. I could smell her strong musk as I kissed her groin and the outside edge of her pussy and flickered my tongue along the ridges.

I heard her groan as I raised my head to brush hair from my face and set to repeating the process on the other leg. This time, when I had thoroughly explored the stretched tendons and soft skin and run my tongue up to her hip, I placed my mouth firmly over her slit. The taste was exquisite; I heard her moan in appreciation.

I made myself work slowly. I could feel my own pussy liquefying with excitement, but wanted to savour every moment. I began to stroke my tongue slowly along her giving little flicks with the tip when I reached her summit. Both her hands had found their way into my hair and I could feel her pressing and stroking as she rolled and jerked beneath me. I soon picked up on the signs she was giving me with her hands. I used more pressure and worked faster when she pressed and eased when she stroked. I began to push my tongue inside her at intervals hearing her gasps turn to deeper groans when I did.

Her skin was perfectly smooth, but I found myself enjoying the different textures she offered. The lips felt like smooth, well-seasoned suede; tasting the inner labia was like thrusting your tongue into warm blancmange; the slight curls of her trimmed pubic hair tickled my nose when it touched them. Once I almost sneezed.

My hair kept getting in the way and every few minutes I had to lift my head to brush it away. After four or five times, I leaned further back to catch my breath and looked down to see what physical effect I was having. I shushed Scarlett's protesting moan. Her pussy was swollen and had coloured, as she tried to stretch her legs further the little button of her clitoris popped into view. It was perfect, I gave it a stroke with my thumb. Scarlett yelped and jerked her pelvis down. I repeated the move with the same effect. It was clearly time for some finger action.

There was a quiet squelching noise as I slipped my middle finger between her folds. I slid easily in to the last knuckle. The ball of my thumb was resting against her clit. I pushed against her resistance. She started making high-pitched squeaks and pants almost immediately. I started to push in and out slowly but soon, under the pressure of her increasing demands, I was frigging her like a piston. Somehow my ring finger slid into her too and I rolled on my side to use the thumb of my other hand to manipulate her button.

She was loud. Much louder than I had ever been. At least that's what I thought, you never really listen to yourself. I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and she had frown marks on her forehead from concentration. She kept opening and then pursing her lips as she screamed and shouted incoherently. I leaned over to kiss her mouth and was engulfed. It was as if she was trying to swallow my head. Her tongue attacked my mouth, I was lucky to get away with all my teeth.

I tried to move my head down her body again to get my mouth over her before she came. I couldn't. I didn't want to move my hands away, she was obviously close to orgasm. At the same time I couldn't use them for leverage, some of her grimaces were clearly from pain. I didn't want to aggravate her bruising by leaning on her in the wrong way. I stopped with my mouth over one of her breasts, it stood proud against the arching of her back. I stuck out my tongue and caressed the taut nipple with my tongue. She came with another scream.

She threw her arms around as she orgasmed and as her cries subsided to sobs she dropped a hand on my head and pulled at my hair. She was clearly not yet in full control of herself. My own hand was soaked. It was as if I had dipped it in a warm sink of water. I began to lick my fingers, Scarlett laughed at me, then rolled over and threw an arm across me. She winced, cried out and rolled back laughing harder.

I very gently placed my own arm over her chest and stroked her shoulder. She squeezed it and turned her head towards me.

'That was lovely.'

It was my turn to laugh.

'"Lovely".'

'OK, it was fucking brilliant. I just didn't want to be rude.'

I laughed harder.

'It's important not to be rude when you're a guest and your host has just finished fingering you, is it?'

'Oh shut up and kiss me.'

I did as I was told. It was a long lingering kiss, one that starts with the mouth but slowly wakes other parts of you the longer it goes on. I pressed myself again her side and felt her pain through the way her lips tensed. I slowly edged from her and ended the embrace.

'You should sleep. It will help you get better.'

I leaned over and kissed her forehead and eyes.

'That was lovely for me too.'

'Now you're taking the piss. Don't you want me to?'

'No. I couldn't get off with you wincing when you touched me.'

I leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips and then lay back, settling for sleep.

'Bloody Barry.'

She reached out a hand and clasped mine. I could feel her frustration.

'Don't worry. If I get too horny, there's a vibrator under the pillow.'

She snorted, then let out a small sob and clutched her ribs.

'Susan?'

'Thank you for having me.'

'Anytime.'

I lay there speculating on whether she was joking or not. I listened to her breathing steady and came to the conclusion she was not. I started thinking about sleep myself when I got a sharp elbow in the ribs.

'Good, eh?'

'Go to sleep.'

We kissed again and edged slightly to our own sides of the bed. I lay listening to her until she started to snore quietly.

I don't usually remember my dreams. For a long time I thought I didn't dream at all. It was only after I married and Dave used to wake me up during a particularly intense nightmare or erotic fantasy that I realised I did. I thought I was waking up when I felt George Clooney's firm dick pressing on the inside of my thigh. I was enjoying those few moments when all is warm and your body is completely relaxed before your brain kicks in and makes you open your eyes. I knew I must still be sleeping. If the Clooneys' marriage had crashed and burned someone would have told me.

I rolled onto my back and slowly parted my legs; George's probing was insistent. He began to rub himself against the folds of my pussy. I was a little surprised at his eagerness, we usually enjoyed foreplay before full penetration. Poor boy must be desperate. I eased my legs further apart and raised my hips to accommodate him. I was getting aroused but my vagina was not yet fully with the programme I was not slick enough for him to slide into me. I moved my hand down to help him. His lips closed around my nipple.