Marlene Is Shaved to Serve Dinner

"What would you have done with those pictures of me?" asked Leslie.

They lay side by side on a blanket spread out on the grass not far from the terrace. The chaise lounge just wasn't comfortable for two side by side--as serviceable as it had been for Guy to mount Marlene and Leslie to stand astride her and lower herself onto Marlene's lips. In the still warm afternoon sun, Marlene lay face down, head on her crossed arms, and Leslie on her side, breasts pressed against Marlene's upper arm, belly against her hip.

Marlene's bare butt, white in the sunlight, was as curvy and fleshy as the rest of her figure, with a deep crack. Leslie now ran her hand over the high, round butt, her curled fingers in the crack so that her fingernails kept brushing Marlene's tight anus. For several minutes Marlene had been stirring her hips in a slow grind against the blanket and occasionally clenching her butt to hug Leslie's fingers.

"What?" she asked with a sigh. I wasn't concentrating.

Oh..!"

"If Guy hadn't caught Victor and Betsy and taken the camera, and found out you had sent them, what would you have done with the nude pictures of me?"

"Look at them and masturbate with my Hitachi vibrator on high until I wore my clit off."

Leslie lifted her hand and gave the ass a sharp slap. "No! Tell me. Was it to get me out of the high school?"

"You know what?" said Marlene lazily, eyes shut. "I honestly am not sure. I had heard rumors, not very specific, but that you had a wild sex life. I TOLD myself I was outraged--a teacher in the high school acting that way."

"But it was outrageous. I had no choice but to quit my job."

"Maybe, but now I know I was...yes, I can use the cliche here...insanely jealous. I thought I was losing my mind with sex fantasies. People in the school. People at the recreation center. And I knew some guys were hot for me, always looking, but adultery is all the other candidate needs in politics and you can forget what you advocate, what you've done. Forget it!"

"I'm discovering that," said Leslie thoughtfully. "I mean about people and fantasies. People you've known for years, worked with every day, then you discover they've been devouring themselves with fantasies about you."

Marlene lifted her butt and made a few jerking movements. "Where did those fingers go?"

"Not till you tell me one person you had fantasies about."

"That's easy since I had fantasies about dozens of people.

"You mean, my obsessions?"

"That's what we were discussing, I think."

"You obviously will know some of the people. But I guess if I can't trust you, now, I may as well start applying for jobs in Singapore. So... Guy was one. He provided some security services to the school, so I met him off and on."

"Oh...so even more reason to get hung up on my supposedly great sex life."

Marlene moved her head, nodding. She said, hesitantly, "Lots of men because Edward and I only frustrated each other. But, you know, I did have these fantasies--scary fantasies, for me--about a woman. And you know her."

"At school."

Marlene nodded. "This might blow you away. It's Delores. In the high school library. And also, for God's sake, the wife of the principal! What do I do with THAT?"

Leslie's curved fingers slid back, tickling deep in the crack; she playfully pushed one fingernail nail into Marlene's anus, just a tiny bit, and wormed it around.

Marlene's buttocks clenched. "Ooh...did you ever get it there?"

"Yes, part of my wild sex life."

"I never did. Never. At first, I thought I would never wanted to. Then, I reached the point where I would lie in bed thinking about being raped with huge pricks in all my openings at once. I wasn't brought up that way at all. I thought for a while that my frustration was...that I was just degenerating." She added, "Maybe I am."

"You never did anything about Delores?"

"What could I possibly DO with a woman, the wife of the principal? If I even hinted to Delores anything LIKE that, she'd flip. I think she must be very happy with Hugh. And, yes, Hugh was one of my fantasies, too. He's quiet, you know, sort of mild, but he's strong, too. I thought Delores must be getting it pretty good."

"You know," said Leslie, "It's too bad there isn't some absolutely safe way to find out if someone would be receptive."

"If it were totally safe, then finding out that someone wants you as much as you want them wouldn't be that incredible triumph, would it?"

"No risk, no sense of conquest?"

"This isn't quite related, but maybe it is--but what has happened to my daughter and your husband and my daughter's boyfriend?"

"Yeah, it's been almost an hour."

"Where do three people spend an hour stark naked-- outside?"

"The woods, I suppose. Guy said he was thinking of the beach after dark."

"You know, just the tip of your fingernail in my ass has my pussy dripping."

"Mine too, a little."

"Is that normal?"

"I don't know, I'm a slut."

"That's what I want to be."

"Oh, speaking of...here they come, now."

Marlene got up on her elbows and turned her head. Leslie took advantage of the moment to slip her hand under one big breast and grab it. "I've got your big tit," she said.

"You think that Betsy looks shagged?"

"I don't know, but I doubt there will be secrets."

Leslie and Marlene watched as the three labored up the grassy slope of the lawn, the two teenagers hand-in-hand, Guy walking beside, all acting as though they had forgotten they were naked.

"Hi," called Guy, "we found a deserted stretch of beach. I fell asleep. No idea what"--he jerked his head toward Betsy and Victor--" they did."

Guy came up and sat on the grass beside the blanket; but Betsy and Victor had stopped a dozen feet away, Betsy looking astonished all over again that her mother was naked. She shook her head, a half-smile on her face, and said: "Victor fell asleep, too. So what's new? The men have their come and fall asleep. The woman lies there listening to them snore."

"Oh, my God," said Marlene. "You're too young for THAT to start!"

"Never too young, apparently," said Betsy.

"Moving right on," said Guy, "it's almost five o'clock. I think we eat at about six-thirty. Not outdoors. We eat at the dining room table, and we're all dressed, okay? Except we need a waitress, so Marlene and Betsy draw straws to see who plays slave at the table of Caligula."

"Which means?" asked Betsy.

"Completely naked, for the whole meal--cocktails through desert. Do all the serving, stand behind my chair at attention."

"And we're having surprise guests!" said Leslie with a grin.

Marlene half rolled over, turning to her, "WHAT?" "Oh, my God," Betsy murmured.

"That's even better," said Guy. "A surprise to me, too."

"Well, it's not for sure, just yet," said Leslie. "I have to call."

Marlene said, slowly, "That's two guests who get served dinner by the bare-ass president of the school board?"

"Or by her bare-ass daughter," Betsy added glumly.

"Oh, you'll like them," said Leslie sweetly. "And I guarantee they'll like you, too.

"Who wants to draw the first straw, ladies?" Guy had stood up with his hand out, fist closed. Marlene sat up on the blanket. As Guy walked toward her, she steadily looked between his legs. Betsy came up behind Guy, and he turned to stand between them. Now they could see two skinny straws sticking from his fist. He said, "Short straw waits on table."

Marlene said, thoughtfully: "Six people dressed and sitting around the table, and I'm walking in and out with my big tits jouncing over the dishes and my fat ass wagging as I head for the kitchen to get more?"

Guy nodded, "And your shaved pussy on display as you bend over the couch with the drinks tray. Do you have big pussy lips or demure ones?"

"Do you want to draw first, mom, or me?" asked Betsy. "My pussy lips are crinkly and stick out just a little--not too bad."

"I'll draw first, I guess," said Marlene, reaching up. "My cunt lips hang down about a half an inch. It should make for fascinating cocktail conversation. I can't wait to see who the guests are and show them my nice newly shaved twat."

Guy bent and held out his fist. Marlene daintily drew a straw with two fingers.

"Well," cried Betsy, "is it the long or the short, for God's sake?"

Marlene held it up. "It looks...well...it depends on the other one."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Betsy grabbed the other straw. "Oh...sorry, Mom. You get shaved tonight."

"I'm your barber, beautiful," said Leslie softly. She was kneeling, now, behind Marlene, her body pressed against her. "And everyone at the table is going to have a stiff dick or a wet cunt the whole time. "

When Leslie was perched on the edge of the bathtub, holding Guy's razor," she said, "Don't worry, it will grow back even thicker. Except for a couple weeks when you'll be scratching yourself down there all the time as it grows in."

"That should make school board meetings livelier," said Marlene. She stood in the tub, still dripping, and gazed down at the white foam that smeared her belly.

"Want to leave a little?"

"I'll do a landing strip," said Leslie. "Nice thin strip pointing from your belly button right at your clit." She lifted the razor and leaned forward. After a few minutes, she said, "Such a plump twat, Marlene; you were born to be fucked."

"So they did NOT say in the Sisters of Modest Demeanor School."

"I'm going to have to lay you down and spread your pooch to finish," said Leslie. "Right this way."

Later, as Marlene dried herself, thoughtfully rubbing the towel over her belly and studying her new look, she asked: "Am I actually throwing together some whole meal for six people? It's already quarter to six."

"Nope," Guy will be back from the Seafood Shoppe with vast trays of food. The wine's cold in the fridge. You just pour and make up the plates. Dessert is ice cream and cookies-- freezer, box beside the microwave."

"Oh, fantastic, so I don't have a thing to worry about then! I was getting a little anxious, there. These guests--they know me?"

"Not as well as they should."

"You don't suppose they will think this landing strip"-- she gently ran her finger up and down the strip of curly blond hair--"is a little 'fast' for a 35-year-old mother who is president of the school board and head of the United Fund Campaign?"

Leslie pressed her lips together and slowly shook her head. "We'll just have to see, Marlene. My concern is that if they think you're a slut they're going to want you to service them."

"Is that part of my brief for the evening, too?"

"Well, 'slave at the table of Caligula...'"

"That says it all."

"I think that's the emperor, now, arriving with the seafood. You'll set the table, then disappear into the kitchen and absolutely stay there, with the door shut tight, until you are summoned to serve the wine."

Marlene drew a deep breath. "Okay, here I go!"

"Well...hold it," said Leslie. "I need to get you equipped."

As Leslie entered the bedroom where Marlene lay back, legs lifted and spread for what Leslie had said was "kind of a gynecological examination, but not really," she said, "I discovered these just a few weeks ago and had to have a couple!"

Marlene lifted up her head, looking between her legs at Leslie, who was bent over Marlene's vagina. "Okay," said Leslie,

"I just insert this. Should go in easy, I put jelly on it."

"Oh! A little cold. What is it?"

"Just a little insert. And now, this tiny attachment comes up here and..." hold still, honey, "I just tighten it right against your incredibly luscious clitoris. There!"

Marlene's right hand came down, tentatively, between her legs. "All I feel is this little plastic thing over my clit--the rest is inside?"

"Yup. Now, you've got to jump right up and put on some high heels."

Marlene slowly rolled to her feet. She stood a moment.

"Just feels like a slight fullness," she said. "Not unpleasant."

"THAT's for sure!" said Leslie. "When you go out to set the table and all that, will you send Betsy in?"

"Oh..."

"She'll want one if you have one."

"What about you?"

"Someone has to be the designated driver, dear."

"Meaning?"

Leslie reached over and picked up a slender rectangular box from the dresser. It looked like a small TV remote control. She looked down, then punched a button.

"Ah! Oh, God! It's alive in there!" Marlene bent over, pressing her thighs together. "Oh, that makes it MORE intense!"

"Jeez, it's on low," said Leslie innocently. "Not like this."

"Marlene's hands flew down to her hairless crotch."

"Don't touch!" warned Leslie. "Straighten up. And during dinner, don't you dare act silly."

"Turn it down," gasped Marlene. "Just down, a bit, okay?" She moved her hand down to her inner thigh. "In a minute there will be rivers running down my thighs."

"Okay, it's off, for now. If you start dripping during dinner let it run. No wiping it off."

Marlene stared at her, then a smile spread over her face. "And when does the naked waitress drop the tray and fling herself onto the table and start rubbing her clit like a crazy woman?"

"We'll have to see, won't we?" said Leslie sweetly. "I loved the way your big boobies swung around when you bent over like that. Look in the mirror, your nipples are pulled into oblongs and all crinkly."

"I'm all set, then?"

"For now, I won't put gag you until just before the guests arrive, okay?"

"Wow, we did everything and five minutes to spare!" yelled Leslie. She was striding down the hall from the bedroom, high heels clacking between islands of rug, wearing a light green cotton dress that left bare her shoulders and her deeply tanned back almost down to her butt. Her slender, brown legs were bare to mid-thigh.

"Table's set, dinner's here, Marlene's got her nice new red ball, and...is everyone dressed?"

"We are," Betsy called from the living room. It was separated from the kitchen by the long formal dining room, and, as Leslie passed the elegantly set table, she placed two remote control boxes on her chair. She bustled into the living room and stopped.

"Oh, lovely, Betsy! I'm so glad you went home to change! And you look very nice, too, Victor."

"I'm totally nervous-freaked-crazed," said Betsy." She looked at Victor reproachfully. "Could it be I'm a little HYPER because I'm the only one who is still..."

"Pure?"

"Insofar as this afternoon goes, yes." She looked across the coffee table at Guy and asked, shyly, "What happens after tonight?"

"Well, we'll have to see," said Guy, leaning back and looking at her. "If you two had gotten away with those pictures, and your mom had made them public, when would it have been over for us?"

It was only the front doorbell, but Betsy jumped as though a truck had backfired. "Oh, God," she gasped, "that gave me a heart attack! Does anyone REALLY pee in their pants just out of fright?"

"Yeah," said Guy. "Marines."

"Look who's here," Leslie was calling excitedly from the front hall. Betsy was staring at the entrance to the living room as though Wolfman might enter holding hands with Dracula.

Following Leslie's instructions, the white summer dress she wore revealed the maximum indecent amount of her bosom, and now her breasts rose and fell more rapidly. Then, she suddenly muttered, very softly, "NO, just fucking NO!"

She stood up just as Victor and Guy did and there was a delightful smile pasted on her face. From long habit, she gave her blond hair a toss, which boys (and now men) always liked. Ignoring the flush of heat across her face, which had reddened like a lobster in boiling water, she stepped forward and said, "How wonderful! Mr. and Mrs. Gaitley! Now I feel really grown up!"

Guy had kissed Delores, and he and Victor were shaking hands with Hugh.

Betsy came up slowly, beaming, and just before she closed with Delores for a chaste cheek kiss, Delores glanced down and breathed: "Hot, Betsy!"

Delores was pretty hot herself. She wore cotton pants tight enough to emphasize her endless slender legs, and a halter that left bare five inches of midriff, punctuated by her belly button, and, at the top, covered only half of her breasts. The top also tended to fall forward when she bent, revealing most of the rest.

Betsy stared at the school librarian she had known for four years until Delores's friendly grin reminded her she was staring and had to move on to Hugh. Her cheeks redder, if possible, Betsy held out her hand to Hugh. He took it and put his other hand on top of hers. "Beautiful Betsy! How is Columbia?"

"Oh, I'm loving it, Mr. Gaitley, and I feel so well-prepared."

"Just saying that last bit to make the old principal proud?"

"Nope. Dean's List every semester, so far--and not just barely, either."

He shook his head. "I had no idea you were going to be here. What a treat for me!" Then, he asked, "How's your mom, this summer, Betsy?"

After a moment, he said, "Anything wrong? Anything I haven't heard? Not in touch as often over the summer." He was watching her face, frowning with concern.

It was like one of those nightmare moments that a speaker imagines, when he will forget every word he meant to say. Betsy looked so distressed that Hugh said, "Oh, God, not serious, is it?"

Betsy was shaking her head. "No," she croaked, at last. No, nothing like..."

"Okay," said Leslie, "let's sit down. Dinner is ready, but we can start with some great Chardonnay!"

Betsy fell back onto the couch beside Victor. He slipped his arm around her. Across the coffee table, Hugh took his seat slowly, still watching Betsy. Delores took the chair next to his, their backs to the dining room door. Guy and Leslie completed the square, one sitting to the right, one to the left.

"We have help tonight," said Leslie.

"Oh, what luxury," said Delores.

Guy nodded. "It's the life of a Roman emperor. Why don't you give a whistle for the drinks, Leslie?"

In a minute, they could hear the high heels coming across the dining room floor. The steps sounded confident, a lady who wasn't new to dressing up. Betsy and Victor stared at the doorway, but Hugh was still watching Betsy's pale face. The sounds of the heels were in the room, now, and Hugh and Delores turned, the beginnings of polite smiles on their faces.

Somehow, in high heels, the shapely but slightly heavy legs were sensational: like beautiful legs blown up to more than life-size on a billboard. Marlene had halted for a moment, the legs close together, slightly turned--a model's trick. Above them, the wide, rounded belly was perfectly bisected by one blond finger that boldly pointed down to a slit shaved as naked as a baby's, but with dark pink inner lips that flowered out and, below, a small, crinkled dewlap that hung just below the body's 'V."

If the eyes could move above the flaunted sex, the wide hips sloped inward to the much narrower waistline, which then tapered smoothly outward until the eyes came to the insolent projection of the big breasts set high on the rib cage as though thrust at the viewer-- the big pink nipples thumbing up and slightly to either side.

As though she had decided to carry on, now, if a cadre of lizard men or robots confronted her, Marlene halted only a moment, looking at Delores and Hugh. No expression of surprise was possible, her lips already opened in a frozen scream around the red ball stuffed into her mouth and strapped behind her head. It was an oddly flattering look, the face longer, the cheeks jacked up immensely high, the wide red lips stretched into an "O."

Her short blond hair and the red ball gave a circus sense to her face, as though a mime gave expression to permanent astonishment at life.

Then, she came toward them, not hurried, swinging her hips slightly, her breasts now gold, now white, behind the six tulip glasses of Chardonnay. She looked steadily at Delores and Hugh, as though refusing to acknowledge anything shocking in the presence of the high-school principal and librarian who watched her approach, naked and gagged like a slave, and carefully balance the tray on one hand to pick up and hold out the first glass to Delores.