Meet Me in St. Louis Ch. 10

That evening turned out to be an epiphany. Amanda had understood what Cynthia had been trying to tell her, and she and Charlotte worked together to incorporate what they both needed into their love for each other. A few weeks later, to Cynthia's delight, Charlotte caught her just before the evening rush at Emily's.

"We've been so busy I have not had a chance to thank you."

"It worked with Amanda?"

"It is a work in progress, but it is better than before. Now I know she won't abuse my trust in her, I can let go completely. That makes it even more special. I can surrender totally, knowing that she will take me where she wants to go, and that I will enjoy it. We have you to thank."

"It was my pleasure."

"Strictly speaking, it's ours," Charlotte laughed. "You also did wonders with Grace."

"So it seems."

"But who could have foreseen that she'd choose to 'relax' with Deborah?"

"It makes sense, Deborah is usually her slut, so the role reversal from time to time keeps it close to home."

That had, indeed, become the case. Grace, as Cynthia told Charlotte, would never cease to have that aggressive edge, but at least she could take some time to relax with Deborah, which seemed to help.

The business was, if not booming, then prospering. Fred Burke turned out to be not only a good lawyer, but a talented business manager, in which he was helped by Petra. Their marriage, which took place six months after they had first met, was attended by all the girls at Emily's, and, to Cynthia's amusement, by Joe Milano and some of his men, as well as the State Governor, Senator, and District Attorney. It showed that Emily's had arrived in terms of being part of the community.

Cynthia was conscious that they trod a thin line, but the plans to help the girls with apprenticeships and jobs for after they had finished escorts, were working, and, as time went on, would help to establish a wider community of support for the Soulard House. As she surveyed the reception after the wedding, there were only two clouds on her horizon.

The first was the inevitable reaction of her father. The Earl was furious when he received her letter saying that she was staying in America for the foreseeable future. But since she was no longer reliant on him for money, she bore his threat to withdraw her allowance with some ease. She arranged for her London flat to be let out, which more than provided a replacement for the lost income. Her Mama wrote separately, wishing her well, which comforted her. But even as she filed the letters, England seemed a long way away.

The other cloud was more insidious - if clouds may be allowed that quality.

One of the girls, from a Russian background, called Cynthia a "Yenta," a Yiddish word meaning "matchmaker." The name stuck, and before very long she was much in demand to help clients and girls match each other. It turned out, as Charlotte told her not long after Petra's wedding, that "you have a great talent for it, Cynthia."

"How ironic that the one person I can find no match for should be me."

And so it continued into the winter season.

Cynthia noticed her when she came in first time. She was not the usual client, and at first Cynthia had wondered if she might be someone wanting to be an escort. She seemed tense, and she drank her wine slowly, looking around. As Yenta, Cynthia knew a challenge when she saw one, so we went and said hello to her.

"Oh, hi there, are, erm, are you an escort?"

"Me?" Cynthia grinned. "No, but I do arrange matches for my girls with clients."

"Your girls, do you run the place?"

"I own it, and help out. I'm Cynthia, so how can I help?"

"I'm June," the younger woman replied. "I'm not really sure you can help."

"Well, June, as I am here, shall we at least try? What do you like?"

June seemed nervous, even a little tongue-tied.

"One of the women who come to the country club where I work mentioned this place, so I thought I'd check it out. But maybe I made a mistake?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well you are one of those posh English girls, and most of the clients here are rich women, so maybe I don't belong here?"

"You like women, right?" Cynthia asked, ignoring her comment.

"Erm, yes, yes I do."

"In which case you are in the right place. So tell me, sexually, what arouses you?"

"Why? I don't think you'll be my sort."

"Why is that?"

"Well, the first time I was here I went with Miss Grace, because she likes to take control. You don't look the sort of woman who likes that sort of thing."

Cynthia smiled at her memory of Grace being a "good girl" for her and calling her "Miss," but as she was not going to break a confidence, she let it pass.

Not getting and answer, June continued to talk.

"It was okay, and I'm not complaining, but somehow it didn't give me what I thought it would."

Sensing that the deep sigh June gave might be an opportunity to explore, further Cynthia asked if she would like another drink, and when she said she would, she ordered a bottle from the bar.

"My treat!"

"Well, as you own the joint," June teased, smiling.

"So, in what way did Grace fall short?"

"It felt, well, like a routine. She knew the sort of thing a girl like me likes, but, well, it felt like a production line."

"It's hard, isn't it?'

June looked at her.

"What is?"

Cynthia noted the defensiveness, and not wanting June to retreat, decided to offer her something.

"Having submissive leanings."

"So, I was right, you are another submissive?"

"Do you think that binary divide is definitive?"

"You use a lot of big words; I think I might need a dictionary."

"I have times I feel submissive, but times I don't, and even times when I feel the other way, that's what I mean."

"So what changes your mood?"

"The woman I am with."

"Do you have a girlfriend then?"

"Ironically, for someone who is the matchmaker here, no, I don't."

"Too difficult?" June allowed herself a giggle, showing Cynthia that she was beginning to relax.

"Oh far too difficult. But look, here I am taking up all your time, when I should be finding you someone to be with."

"Could I afford you?" June smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"No."

"Why, what do you charge?"

"I don't, because I am not an escort."

"So if I wanted some time with you?"

"You are having time with me, so a continuation would be at the same flat rate!"

"Which is?"

"Nothing. I like your company. But if you need someone for sex, I can find you someone."

"And if I just want to chat?"

"We can have supper together now."

Which was precisely what they did.

At the end of the evening, Amanda came to ask Cynthia a few questions, but seeing her with June, decided to wait.

"I have enjoyed your company, June."

"Me too."

"You've enjoyed your company?" Cynthia joked.

"Always do," June teased back, "but I have enjoyed yours too."

"Well you know where to find me."

"I do," June said, "but would you want me to?"

"I would."

June tensed up. Cynthia could see what we needed, so she leant in and, on tip toes, kissed June on both cheeks.

"Is that all?" June said, leaning back in to kiss Cynthia on the lips.

Watching them, Amanda was touched to see that they lingered on that kiss for some minutes.

Eventually they parted, but not before another kiss.

"You seemed to be enjoying that, Cynthia. She's new, she had a session with Grace, but did not want to repeat it. Don't tell me you are breaking your rule and being an escort."

Recovering herself, Cynthia laughed it off.

"We shall see," was all she said.

Charlotte said to Amanda later that she sensed it was not the moment to tease Cynthia; but they both agreed that it would be wonderful if she could find someone special. Amanda said she would make sure that if June came back, she would be welcomed, and made to feel at home.

"You, Amanda, are almost as much of a matchmaker as Cynthia."

"Well, after all she has done for us, we all want the best for her."

That night, and for the next few days, Cynthia found it unusually difficult to focus, which was not at all like her.

It was not until Saturday night that June came back in. The Club was busy, but as Cynthia was the yenta, she asked Amanda if she could cover for her; Amanda, smiling, said: "Of course, take the evening off."

"June, good to see you here."

"Cynthia, do, do you want to be with me?"

"What," joked Cynthia, "like an escort?"

June coloured:

"Is that the only way I could be with you?"

Cynthia leaned in and kissed her. Pulling away she looked at her:

"No, this is though!"

Cynthia wanted the kiss to last forever, but there was a strict protocol which, whilst it allowed direct displays of affection in the main room, dictated that anything more should take place in private.

"Come with me."

Charlotte, who had been watching, winked at Amanda as they both watched the two women go to Cynthia's room.

"You know, darling," Charlotte said to her, "that's the first woman Cynthia has ever taken back to her room here."

"She has it bad I think."

Once alone, Cynthia reached up to kiss June, who responded eagerly, the tip of her tongue sliding along her lips, before it pressed in.

June pushed Cynthia against the wall.

Cynthia was overwhelmed. Her desire knew no bounds, and yet June's appeared to be even greater.

June reached under Cynthia's dress.

"Arms!"

Cynthia knew what she meant, lifting her arms so that June could take her dress off; the threw it behind her.

"Geeze, you're beautiful Cynthia!"

Cynthia felt June's hands grip her ass, her mouth sliding downwards, kissing her neck, her breasts, her tummy, her mound and then, even before June could push her legs apart, Cynthia had opened them. She wanted this, so much.

June tasted Cynthia for the first time, lapping her thin lips, then press into her folds as her nails gripped her ass.

Cynthia heard herself moaning, and pinched her nipples

June pulled her wetness onto her mouth, forming a vacuum, sucking in all her nectar. Then, just as Cynthia was shaking with passion, she pulled away, looked up, smiled, and then blew on her, before rubbing her face into the hot mess that was Cynthia's swollen pussy.

Then, parting her labia, June's tongue wriggled in, pressing, licking, her nose rubbing Cynthia's clit.

Cynthia felt herself trembling, her knees almost giving way; she was glad June had pressed her into the wall. With June's nose against her clit, and her pussy being taken by June's skilful tongue, Cynthia pulled on her own nipples. She felt her muscles tighten.

Whatever Cynthia had been expecting, it had not been this lightning strike, this erotic invasion. She wanted this though, no, more than that, she needed it.

Her face streaked with Cynthia's nectar, June looked up.

"Cum for me!"

At that, time stood still for Cynthia. She felt her tummy muscles tighten as her world exploded.

As Cynthia's juices squirted onto her face, June came too, soaking her panties; not that she cared. If Cynthia has lost in time and space, June knew just where she was; this was where she needed to be. This was home.

June's tongue swirled, cleaning her lover, lapping at her treasure, pleasing her. She felt the warm wetness between her own legs, and putting hand up her skirt, pulled her sopping wet panties aside and began to finger herself as she licked Cynthia.

Cynthia wanted June. She looked down.

"Please, I want to taste you!"

June pulled her panties off, picked up Cynthia and took her to the bed, laying her down carefully.

"Lick me, Cynthia!"

June positioned herself so that her own pussy was above Cynthia's face, and began to lap at her.

The sight of June's swollen lips, dew droplets forming on them, almost made Cynthia orgasm again, so she leant up, pressing her down so that her mouth could taste her fully

June's juices were tangy, addictive, she wanted more, Her tongue found its way in, June's body pressing her into the mattress. The heat, the passion, these were beyond anything Cynthia had dreamed of. Her tongue pressed in and out, even as June's did the same, coating each other, marking each other, loving each other.

They came again, and then again before collapsing on each other, shaking. June, who being on top, could actually move (with an effort) shifted her position so she could cuddle Cynthia. She knew her clothes were a mess, and stripped off, finally.

They kissed.

They hugged.

Cynthia looked into June's eyes.

"Thank you!"

"For what?" June asked.

"For what just happened."

"And what was that?" June giggled.

"That was love. June, I love you!"

Cynthia had hardly expected to say it, but it was so true, so all devouring that she had to say it.

"Do you mean that?"

"I do," Cynthia said, "is that bad?"

"If it is, I am bad, because I love you too!"

Silently they held each other, sharing the glow of what had just happened. They lay together, listening to each other's heart beating.

"Have you loved before?" June asked, breaking the silence.

"If this is love, then no, because though I have had other lovers, there has been nothing like this, no one like you."

"I am just me," June said.

"Well, that will do me!"

Leaning on her elbow, June looked at Cynthia.

"You are like a little pixie, a sexy little pixie. I think I am calling you Pixie!"

Cynthia giggled, but felt a shiver of pleasure run through her to the core.

"I'm to be your little Pixie?"

"Yes, Miss," June giggled.

"I think I like that!"

When the two of them emerged from the room, it was way past dinner time, but the chef ran up a scratch supper.

Cynthia had expected the place to be deserted, but Charlotte and Amanda were there, ginning like Cheshire cats.

"No need to ask if you two enjoyed yourselves," Amanda joked. "But June, that dress and blouse need laundering, here, have a robe.

June blushed, and, stripping the soiled garments off, put the robe on.

"Wow, Cynthia! Good job she's yours," Amanda laughed.

"You liked?" June said.

"I did."

"Well this is for my sexy little Pixie here!"

"Oh!" Charlotte giggled, "perfect."

"My Pixie is," said June, hugging her.

And thus it was that Lady Cynthia became Pixie. June's name for her caught on because it suited her so perfectly. Only between the two of them was it shortened to "Pix."

Even Grace, always sceptical about "love," agreed that Cynthia and June seemed perfectly matched.

A few days later, while Pixie was busy being Yenta, Grace brought a drink over to June.

"So, you are her domme?"

"Pardon me?" June said, staring at her.

"Come on, we both know she's submissive. I thought, from your time with me, that you were submissive, so what gives?"

June looked puzzled.

"No idea what the fuck you are talking about Grace. I just love her, and she loves me."

Sceptical as she was, across the next few months, Grace came to see why June had been nonplussed. Grace knew about submission and domination, but what she observed between the two lovers, while it had something of that about it, could not be reduced to it.

June told Pixie, who laughed.

"Grace may, one day, understand. I hope she will."

"Do you want me to be your domme?"

"I want you to be my lover and we shall follow where that leads."

That was what they did.

It turned out that June had a talent for managing the restaurant and supply side of Emily's, and even those girls who were jealous of her hold on Pixie, had to respect her ability here. With her management, the business prospered more than ever, and given her background, she took a particular interest in helping those girls who needed to be found useful apprenticeships.

"She's the little mother of all the world," Pixie once commented to Charlotte.

As winter passed into the warmest spring on record and the blossom bloomed, so too did the love between Pixie and June. It spread a warmth throughout the Soulard House.

Pixie, as Cynthia had become used to being called, began to notice some whispering behind the scenes. Whoever said love made you blind hadn't known her. It was the way Amanda suddenly seemed to be engrossed in conversation with June. It crossed her mind that perhaps June might be looking for a more dominant lover, but no sooner had the thought appeared, than she dismissed it; it was not June's way.

"Do you think Pixie has noticed, June?" Amanda asked her one evening.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I have caught her shooting us looks."

"Get on with organising it, and I shall deal with her," June giggled.

"Pix, can I have a word?"

"Sure, yes," Pixie replied.

When they got into their room, June sat down, Pixie went to join her.

"No, I want you standing there."

A shiver went through Pixie. She looked at June, who was not smiling.

"Did you think something was going on between myself and Amanda?"

Pixie gulped. Of course she had, but she was reluctant to say so.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"No, sorry, yes I did, but I know it's nonsense."

"Oh," June smiled, "nonsense, eh? Why, don't you think Amanda would find me attractive?"

Pixie wanted to stop talking. She seemed to be digging herself into a hole.

"Well, girl, answer me!"

The tone of June's voice and the use of the word "girl," like that, made Pixie conscious that her panties were dampening.

"No, Miss," she said, slipping into submissive mode.

"So if she found me attractive and I wanted to be with her as well as you, would that pose a problem?"

Pixie was not sure how she felt, let along what to say. The rational part of her was horrified by the idea, but the submissive part of her was not so sure.

"No Miss!"

"Pixie, you are a terrible liar as well as a little pervert, Tuck your skirt into your waistband and get your panties off. Give them to me."

Pixie was mesmerised. Where had this come from?

Pixie lowered her panties and then bent down and them up and handed them to June. She then pulled the hem of her skirt up to her waist and tucked it into the waistband so that it would not fall down and cover her bottom, which needed to be fully exposed for June.

Had Pixie been less overwhelmed she might have noticed the twinkle in June's eyes.

"Good girl. But what's this? They are all gooey. Don't tell me you are looking forward to being punished. Does Lady Cynthia, the owner of Emily's wish to be treated like a naughty little slut?"

'Oh fuck!' Pixie felt herself leaking at June's words.

"Yes Miss, I do Miss."

"Get across my lap then!"

Pixie lowered herself across June's lap, feeling her nylons against her. As June's hands caressed her bum she wriggled.

*Slap!*

"Bad girl. Count!"

"One, Miss, thank you!"

*Thwack!*

The second one was harder, firmly across the crack, making both cheeks sting.

"Two, thank you Miss."

As the next four hit her sore bottom, Pixie counted and thanked June. Her backside felt as though it was on fire, but between her legs felt wet enough to put out any fire."

"You can stop counting now, slut!"

"Yes Miss."

*Thwack!*

"You will trust in our love, understand!"

"Yes Miss!"

*Thwack!"

"I would never betray you, know that!"

Two more hard spanks followed.

"Your little bum is a wonderful shade of red Pixie," June said, patting it. "Now do you get it?"

"I do, I do darling! And I am sorry."

"My pussy is soaked, and as you won't be sitting or lying on your bum for a while, get on your knees."

Like a woman in a trance, Pixie did as she was told. June lifted her bottom and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down.

"Take them off and please me!"

Pixie did not need telling twice. Her hungry mouth devoured her lover, who lay back and let her do her best.

"You are such a good pussy licker, slut!"