tagLesbian SexHearts Afire Pt. 06

Hearts Afire Pt. 06


"Mmmmm ... oh, yeah." Em's throaty murmur was barely audible above the forties' song and the crackle of flames devouring wood. A trickle of perspiration meandered down the shallow contour tracing one side of her curved spine. She sat atop Mac, hunched forward, her weight supported on arms propped to either side of Mac's hips. Em's head hung low, long black hair hiding her face, sweeping down between Mac's legs and resting on moist golden pubic curls. Em rocked gently back and forth as her lover, underneath, lavished attention on her pussy and anus.

A soft cool breeze briefly kissed her damp shoulders. Em sat up slowly and twisted back to toy with the taut nipple of one of Mac's breasts. Em groaned to herself as she felt the tongue dipping and twisting inside her pussy. Then she turned round again, preparing to bury her own tongue in Mac's cunt.

She froze.

For a split second she thought her eyes were playing tricks with her mind. The drapes wavered in the flickering firelight, and the silhouette of fake palm fronds waved like so many hands in a crowd. Ever-so-slowly a shadow detached itself from the rest and quietly stepped forward into the room. The fire's glow washed over the figure which, she now saw, was garbed head-to-toe in black. Her sudden inaction must have alerted Mac because all sounds from where she was administering to Em's pussy abruptly stopped.

"Em? What is it? Something wrong? Did I do something wrong?" The blonde's voice was slightly muffled as Em was astride her face. Em very carefully moved off the supine woman and took a kneeling position beside her—without ever taking her eyes off the dark specter standing just inside the sliders.

"Em? What in the world is—?" Mac sat up—and spotted the intruder.

"What the fuck!" Her expletive came as a rush of air, as if she'd been punched in the stomach. She sat there beside Em; both women frozen still like two vulnerable deer, their senses suddenly alerted to a danger nearby and their instinctual 'fight-or-flight' early warning system commanding stillness until the threat could be evaluated.

Neither woman was the least bit concerned for their state of undress, modesty merely something attributed to prepubescent schoolgirls.

Their eyes were riveted on the black stranger. Mac's eyes opened wide and she turned to her friend beside her—Em was chuckling softly!

"Russ! What in the world are YOU doing HERE?" Em asked, as she resumed a more relaxed and comfortable position on the rug, leaning back, legs crossed at the ankles.

Mac was speechless—these two KNEW each other? How the fuck could Em know this all-black figure was this ... 'Russ' character? Mac drew her knees up, clamped her arms around them and switched her befuddled look from Em to this guy, and back to Em.

"Em? You KNOW this guy?" Mac asked incredulously.

"Oh, Russ and I go back a few years." Em beckoned the uninvited 'guest'. "Well, don't just stand there scaring my friend to death ... come over here. Sit down."

The man complied, pulling the black mask from his head in the process. Tight golden waves adorned his head and, as he eased himself onto the lounge his hair, highlighted by the fire, assumed a soft coppery gold glow. Mac sat quietly admiring this young Adonis.

Russ stood on the high side of six foot one and possessed the type of figure most men would die for but would never invest the time to develop. Broad shoulders veed to a narrow waist and hips. His face, with its softly-chiseled features, had a certain boyish charm but on closer examination the deep-brown eyes held years of painful experience, and were too old for this young man. The lips were soft, inviting, but edged with determination and command. The corded muscles of his neck testified to the heavy musculature of the body hidden under the black stealth suit he was wearing.

If pressed for a simple description of Russ, Mac would have to say, 'built like a super hero from the pages of some comic.'

"Thanks, Em." His voice was like soft steel. "Hey, I'm sorry if I interrupted you guys." He wasn't. "As for my being here, Em ... let's just say that I'm here to protect my employer's new 10-year contract with your company."

Em's mind instantly switched to business mode. "The Capricorn Account? Jefferies is your boss?" The young man merely nodded slightly. "You've been contracted to protect—me?" While she kept her eyes fixed on Russ, Em continued as an aside to Mac.

"Rusty, here, works for a company called 'Blackwater, USA' which specializes in professional security, peacekeeping, and stability operations around the world. They work very closely with the Federal Government and its various agencies, as well as foreign governments. The day before you flew into town, Mac, my company won a 10-year contract with a crowd calling itself 'Capricorn, Inc.' I'm now guessing it's a federal agency and Blackwater has been contracted by them to safeguard their interest with my company. And if I'm right, it would appear you and I now have our own personal bodyguard." Rusty gave the two women one of his magical smiles and inclined his head slightly.

"Okay. I can understand Blackwater wanting to keep a low profile," Em spoke to Rusty again, "...but why all this sneaking around, coming over the balcony? And just how long have you been following us—me?"

"I was assigned to you..." Rusty indicated Em, "...a week before Jefferies flew in to sign the contract with your company. Let's just say I was to make sure the coast was clear. Since then, I've been your ever-faithful watchdog. As for this business tonight, what with everything that's been going on around here of late, I felt I could do a far better job working on the inside rather than from out there." He jerked a thumb towards the balcony and the night beyond the drapes.

"You've been out there—watching us?" asked Mac. The young man smiled broadly. Her voice was suddenly a trifle husky. "Like what you saw?"

"Let's say I could see you were in good hands." They all chuckled.

Mac appraised him for a few seconds, then stood. "Well, you two can chat and catch up with each other while I go take a shower." Rusty eyed the gorgeous blonde as she left the room, then returned his attention to Em, who was watching him with a raised eyebrow and a salacious smile.


Mac luxuriated under the hot spray, standing there and allowing the jet setting to pummel her body from head to toe. It felt so good, so invigorating. Steam billowed up around her and she breathed deeply of the hot vapor, feeling the moisture at the back of her throat. Her mind wandered. Mac blamed herself for the infrequency of communication between herself and Em over the past few years. While her friend had been working hard to establish an internationally well-respected firm, Mac's sole interest had been taken up with her club—and partying.

'Mac's Place', her club, had the notoriety of being 'the club' where anyone could find or buy just about anything his or her perverted heart desired. And Mac worked hard to maintain that status; doing whatever needed to be done—within or beyond the law.

There had been the inevitable run-ins with local—and not-so-local—gangs, which had taken time to squelch, but eventually a workable truce had been established with a bargain being struck with the strongest gang for it to function as her club's unofficial police force. This, in turn, had brought her undesirable attention from the local law enforcers—the real police—but now that she had various key officers on her payroll, even that quarter no longer irked her operations. For several years now, everything had been running smoothly.

But all this had meant a noticeable drop off of e-mails and phone calls between the two life-long friends; something Mac now regretted. While they had been growing up together, Em had always been there as Mac's stalwart companion, a barrier shielding her from bad elements, lending the younger girl the necessary space and freedom within to grow stronger both in body and character. Em was Mac's tunnel of escape, freedom from her tyrannical father and totally disinterested socialite of a mother. The taller, stronger, older girl fast became the sister for which Mac had always yearned.

Despite the two being inseparable during those long years of schooling, graduation from college had each woman stepping out on a different career path. Mac could still vividly recall that late summer afternoon, on the lush banks of their favorite river, hidden from the outside world by the dense screen of willow branches, when they had made a childishly solemn blood oath—that they would stay friends no matter what.

There had been tears and soft laughter as they had pressed their cut right thumb to each other's, mixing the dripping blood as depicted by many a Hollywood Indian. They had sealed their pledge that afternoon making passionate love under the sighing willow into the early hours of the evening, then gone their separate ways. That felt so long ago, mused Mac—an eternity, a life time. She hung her head and let the water massage her long neck. The rush of water muffled her sobbing, and washed away her tears.


Mac emerged from the steamy shower—like some mystical figure stepping from the cloudy past—wrapped a towel about herself and padded into the living room. Her breath caught in her throat, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

Em was on her knees, her arms propped on the lounge, with Rusty crouched low behind her. He clutched her raised hips tightly with one hand while the other sought for her full breasts, dangling and swaying underneath. Em's head hung low, and her breathing was labored as she panted in rhythm to Rusty's plunging movements. Both were bathed in sweat, and they glowed and glistened like two coupling bronze statues.

Rusty's eyes were closed as he drove his cock into Em's pussy—in, out, in, out, in—like a well-oiled piston rod. Mac edged to her right to see better, then caught her breath again. Rusty's cock was huge! It seemed all of 7 or 8 inches long, and Mac wondered if she could fit her hand around its base, it appeared so thick. Her eyes were transfixed by the massive organ as it slid in and out of her friend's cunt.

As she watched, Rusty increased his pace, hunching forward over Em's hips, driving his cock deeper and deeper into her. Em grunted with every stroke—the soft wet sound of testicles slapping against damp flesh reached Mac's ears. She felt fluid leaking from between her legs and eased a couple of fingers into her own pussy—began massaging her swelling clit.

The couple was panting from their exertions, breathing faster. Russ released his hold on Em's full breast and slipped his hand to her clit and began rubbing hard, his fingers flashing. Em gasped from the electric current that jolted her system and shoved her hips hard into the man's driving penis; all three now were in rapture.

Mac pressed her back to the wall, spread her legs wide for stability and worked her fingers deep into her dripping pussy, keeping pace with Rusty's grinding hips. His cock buried itself fully with each stroke, causing Em's head to jerk up each time. His legs were quivering, muscles taut—his butt muscles bunched tight, pressure building in his balls. He pumped faster, tried to go deeper. Em was groaning, getting louder. Mac was panting fast.

"AAAAHHH! OHHHH!" Rusty began to shoot his seed into Em, then whipped his massive cock out and rested it between her butt cheeks. Gripping it tight and squeezing it, he milked his huge organ—sperm shot over the length of Em's curved back and into her hair. Em screamed as she felt the warm, thick fluid hit her hot flesh and she came, and came again.

Mac almost crumpled at the knees as her own orgasm rippled up through her—juices flowed out of her pussy wetting her pumping fingers, her hand. She watched with glazed eyes as thick ropes of milky white spunk kept leaping from the tip of Rusty's jerking cock. She'd never seen a guy shoot so much. Then the spurts began to dwindle, then stopped, a dribble oozing from the tip.

Rusty dropped to his knees and rolled onto his back, his penis lying limp between his legs. Mac wobbled over to Em and, unwrapping the towel from her waist, dropped it over Em's back drizzled with spunk. Then both women collapsed to the floor to join Rusty; all three were totally spent.

"Damn," Mac groaned. "I need another shower." They all chuckled, exhausted.


Two lodges away, a tall, dark figure stepped silently out into the night, closing the front door quietly. Upstairs the master bedroom was a horrific scene of carnage. Blood spattered walls and ceiling glistened wetly in the flicker of candle light. Splashes of the red life source soaked into the thick carpet, turning a deep, carmine rust color.

Atop the bed lay a woman's spread-eagled figure. Her glassy eyes stared across a veritable sea of her own blood as it pooled around her head and torso. Laying half in, half out of the bathroom doorway was the body of her best friend—the twist of limbs, the ribbons of scarlet trailing back to the shower, all testimony to the ferocity of the killer's passionate work.

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