My Only Talent Ch. 25

A late lunch was served in the main hall of the huge house, buffet style. Lots of salads, cold cuts, and dark bread, along with a selection of strong English cheeses, backed up with several kinds of fruit pies, and lots of wine, which I passed on, but there was also a big bowl of iced bottles of mineral water. Everything hit the spot. I sat with Peggy and some of the younger Museum employee crowd, failing to retain most of the names but enjoying the conversation and feeling convivial and victorious. After everyone had eaten their fill, Peggy looked up at me, eyes wide and twisting one of her pigtails with a big grin on her face. In her Betty Boop voice, she whispered conspiratorially "I think I am going to go upstairs, and I think you should wait about five minutes and then come up to see me. I do. I really do think you should. Oh yes I do! Don't you?"

I did. I spent a few minutes talking to some of Peggy's co-workers and getting evil looks from Chasemoore and Evan from across the room. Then I ascended the stairs to the third floor and pushed the heavy door with the salmon colored cloth on it open, and latched it behind me. It was a very grey and overcast winter day, and the only light came in through the window. But it was enough to see an amazing sight, one that literally took my breath away. Peggy's schoolgirl outfit was on the floor just under the window, and she was displayed completely naked across the big ottoman, or whatever it was, face down with her legs in the two of the spaces between the 'lobes' of the top of it, and her arms together in another one, her waist just settled in the little depression at the top. It was the most vulnerable, open and available pose I had even imagined a woman could be placed in. Her lovely ass was up in the air at just about the level of my knees, with her head and feet about 18 inches lower. Her pussy and ass and mouth were all on perfect display, and easily accessible. There was now a linen cover over the thing, like a fitted bottom sheet for a bed, that snapped into the fasteners around the edge of it, and there were linen ties, like the belts of the robes I had used to restrain her in the hotel room, that were attached to the hook and ring strips around the base.

"That mean man will tie my arms and legs down, I just know he will! Then he can do anything to me, anything at all, and I will just have to let him. There will be nothing this poor little girl can do to stop him!"

I reached forward and grabbed the linen straps, which were perfectly placed, and soon had her trussed up like a calf at a rodeo. I walked around and looked at her. As I envisioned fucking Peggy, and in every orifice and position that I could picture, I saw that those little areas that had seemed earlier to be to be grapefruit size leather lined pockets would be the perfect places to put my knees or feet or hands while shoving myself into her. This thing was a very well-engineered piece of sexual furniture. There was just no other way to describe it. The 'poor little girl' was also wet, warm, fragrant, and quivering.

I stood just looking for a minute. She was arranged artfully across the thing, and it was affecting me like a really fine painting or sculpture sometimes grabbed me at the Kimbell museum in Fort Worth, which my mom had taken me to diligently beginning when was I was about four years old. Peggy reminded me of the Madonna and child painting by Titian that I had seen there when I was just going through puberty, and it had resonated within me tremendously. Peggy had no dress on, and her color was even more vivid than Titian's paint and the added information of smell and actually feeling the infrared radiating from her in the cool room almost overwhelmed me. Then I heard her buzzing Suzie signal and realized I could appreciate this art from another perspective, and like no painting had ever been enjoyed.

I tuned into her Suzie, trying to hear in it her every quiver. Art like this should be appreciated fully, and I was determined to do Peggy just as fully and completely as possible. I began by touching her gently, tenderly; conducting a tactile survey of what inflamed her, and what did not. I was surprised to learn that my assumptions on the subject had been pretty much wrong. The traditional 'erogenous zones' produced much less of a response. It was the top of her shoulders, the crook of her elbows, and the back of her ankles that produced the greatest responses. One did not need a Suzie receiver to know that she was excited, as her lovely smell filled the room. I have to admit, spanking her was just plain my idea, but she responded to it beautifully. Her ass got redder, and I could slow roll her no more, as my little monkey brain had gone round the bend.

I put my knees in two of the little 'grapefruit holders' and my left arm in another and bent to my task: kissing the back of her thighs, using my tongue to leave little wet marks when I switched from one to the other. I was now the painter and she was my canvas. The heat of her astounded me; she was like a convection element in a cool room. I worked up to the top of her thighs and then put my elbows behind her knees and used my thumbs to open up her buttocks, exposing her lovely little puckered pink buttonhole. I rotated my hands forward and away from me, like turning two knobs, bringing the top of her sizzling pussy into view, my gaze settling on that magical little area where inner and outer lips curve and fold together. She shivered, I smirked. I began licking very gently about halfway between her anus and the backside of her pussy, gradually pushing more strongly against her and extending my circles down closer to her outer lips. I moved my thumbs down and spread her pussy open, mesmerized by its glistening wetness in the low winter sunlight coming in through the window.

I decided to become goal oriented: I wanted her to crave and beg for orgasm, and then give it to her. Her Suzie was my guide, and the path was clear. I started on the outer aspect of her outer lips, working my way all around about 300 degrees of her snatch and then back to twelve o'clock. Then the wonderful valley between inner and outer lips the same way, and her Suzie screamed encouragement. I then opened that pungent pink taco and began to devour it. Her Suzie provided a perfect feedback loop, begging, and I began giving, and was soon rewarded with a wonderful grunt from her mouth and a pulse of her clear female taco sauce between her nether lips, as if someone had squeezed a taco from both sides and some sexual salsa escaped. Her Suzie suggested a slight pause, and then I went for the meat of the matter, so to speak. The second orgasm was much stronger than the first, and I think I actually felt her do a little flip flop inside, perhaps clamping down on a cock that wasn't there, but I could assure her that mine was close by and very ready.

I gave her two more quick spanks and then I put my knees just outside of her thighs and lined up for phase two. We both sighed contentedly as I slipped into her pussy: she was wet and I was very ready. I lowered myself down onto her and discovered that the design of the ottoman or fuck chair or whatever it was called somehow focused my weight and motion right onto her center. The front side of my legs naturally fell into long and close contact with the back of hers, and my hands slipped under her shoulders and up around her neck , like the full Nelson hold our wrestling obsessed substitute coached tried to teach us so often. He should have set it up as a coeducational exercise like this, as no one would have objected. I could feel her spread her legs and arms out even further, allowing me more penetration, which I craved. I tuned for Suzie again and found her natural rhythm, matched my motions to it, and enjoyed rocking her boat immensely. This time when she came she did clamp down on me, and hard.

I was ready to come, and I jumped off the chair, grabbed her pigtails, and finished off in her mouth. It might be more correct to say her mouth finished me off, she was sucking it out of me for all she was worth, and her Suzie was signaling her frantic desire to do so. She improvised her own little technique to keep me hard, and my thoughts turned to her little puckered ass. I crawled up above her again and put my knees of either side of her thighs. She knew what was next: she groaned and spread her legs even wider, and stuck her butt up a little more. What a woman.

The human mind is forever a puzzle, and as I slowly eased my cock into Peggy's puckered pink posterior play hole a quarter of an inch at a time, I suddenly found myself mentally back in 7th grade Natural Science class, with Miss Karatko, second period. She was a 60 year old spinster with way too much makeup and an almost demonic tobacco habit. This made her the school's number one user of 'educational films' in the classroom. She would appoint a student 'audio visual helper' to run the projector for the old films or the video player for the new ones, and then she would head for the teacher's outside lounge. From the way she smelled when she returned, she must have smoked three unfiltered Camels, lighting one off the other, until just before the film ended. She did have some dedication to her craft though, for she absolutely refused to show the same film twice, keeping meticulous records to ensure a 'unique educational experience' in every class period, and she always appeared back in the classroom about 30 seconds before the film ended, having noted its run time in her records. All this had the interesting side effect of making her search for a wide variety of science related films, and resulted in her ordering and showing films that most other teachers left untouched in the school supply rental warehouse.

We never had to listen to Miss Karatko lecture us in class, but we watched predators big and small running down and killing all manner of prey, lemmings jumping off cliffs, dozens of animal mating rituals and complete life cycles by the score. My current penetration of Peggy recalled two such films, merged together somehow in my mind's eye. The first showed a big black wasp laying her eggs in a live insect of some kind, having previously stung it into paralysis so that its rotting carcass would serve as food source and incubator for her brood. She positioned herself above the hapless victim, and then extended a very phallic looking 'ovipositor' (my vocabulary word for the week back then) deep into the insect's abdomen. The second film was a sequence of a starfish attaching itself to some sort of clam, flowing over it and sticking itself to the surface of the shell and then using its suction cup festooned arms to pull it the claim open and devour the flesh inside. I hovered over Peggy planning to leave my own deposit, and my arms flowed over her, owing to the natural shape of the ottoman sex chair, and pressed seamlessly to her all over, and then somehow my mind focused on only the ancient ritual of penetration and deposition.

I devolved from monkey brain back towards lizard brain, just rocking it on that rock in sun. I did notice that Peggy had come again from my relentless anal stimulation of her, one of her most endearing talents, and that her Suzie had taken on a new and unusual overtone. It almost seemed to move left and right and back again like one of those fakey four channel stereo demonstration recordings, an effect I did not recall ever having noticed before. My interest in this new phenomenon was temporarily stalled as my second orgasm built up and a loud buzzing noise moved from my loins to my ears and took over my consciousness. I did my best wasp and starfish imitation and plastered myself to Peggy, maximizing penetration and making a very hot and deep deposit. I think I lost consciousness for a moment, and then awoke to hear an even more exaggerated spatial modulation on her Suzie signal. She was tied to the ottoman and was definitely not jumping around, so why was her Suzie moving?

Then it hit me. There were three signals: Peggy's and two others sounding almost the same as hers, but emanating from slightly different locations. Holy Toledo! It was the twins, watching us like Lizzie Faye Reagan had in the laundry room back at the dorm. They were mentally putting themselves in Peggy's place and radiating what they thought the experience would be like. And they were so empathic that their Suzie signals almost perfectly mimicked Peggy's! Where the hell were they? I had previously only experienced Suzie signals as being weak or strong, and thus inferred intensity or distance, but now I found I could do a little three dimensional echolocation and be more precise. They seemed to be just on the other side of the wall behind the headboard of the bed. I thought fast and moved slow. These old castles must have lots of secret passages and peep holes, and having one placed near the bed in a guest bedroom would not be completely unexpected for the purposes of medieval intrigue. The twins must have explored this place and found them all, and given their 'natural proclivities' I suppose it was not surprising that they would engage in a little voyeurism. But what should I do about it?

I finally decided that I should just concentrate on Peggy, and ignore the twins, at least outwardly. I released all the tie downs and restraints, and gathered her up in my arms, and carried her toward the bed, coincidently right under the twin's gaze. I got into the bed, with her next to me on my right, and pulled up the covers over us both. The room was getting very cool as the winter afternoon sun was beginning to set. She quickly snuggled into the crook of my neck, with her face right next to my right nipple, and her fingers toying with my left one. Natural talent!

I then heard two loud signals from the twins which I took as the Suzie signal equivalent of women saying "Awww" when they see a cute kitten, and then both signals rapidly dopplered down away and disappeared as they departed through what must have the secret passage and went somewhere else.

Peggy wanted to talk, and so she did. As long her warm breath blew across one of my nipples, while her ring finger toyed gently with my other one, I was going to stay still and listen. "We are going to miss afternoon tea, you know, thanks to you. I plan to thank you more, later tonight!"

"What is the deal with that ottoman, or chair, or whatever it is?"

She giggled. "Belinda found that on an antiquing trip to Sofia, from an infamous dealer named Plam, who specializes in erotica and antique furniture. I found some vague references to it in the literature. The translation is something like 'Thunder Chair' and that seems apt to me."

"Me too. Belinda called herself 'an old libertine'. Just how libertine is she?"

"Very much so. She and Abelard have what they call an 'open relationship' which basically means that Abelard fucks her when he wants to, and she fucks anybody else she wants to."

"She said you and I might go birding later. Is that traditional birding, or......?"

"There is some traditional birding here, but it's mostly used as an excused absence for some dalliance conducted away from the group. I haven't yet introduced them to 'strip birding' but next spring it may come up, so to speak. That's not the only non-traditional thing Belinda has tried to introduce me too, either." Her normally dulcet toned and clear Suzie got funky for a moment.

I played dumb, even though Belinda's Suzie had told me that she liked girls too, and given that, how could she fail to notice sweet Peggy? "Like what?"

"Like........ Belinda is bi-sexual and she made a pass at me! Very upfront and honest, and she didn't freak out when I told her no and that I was a very traditional girl. She was surprised, but so open and nice about it that it sort of cemented our friendship. Now we check out guys together, and she whispers to me which girls she thinks are hot."

"Why did you call her twins evil?"

"Well, I guess they aren't truly evil, but they are very exasperating. They are like little kids that ask 20 questions per minute, and at least since I have known them, all of their questions have been about sex. And they don't ask just generic questions either, but rather some very specific ones."

I'll bet they did. "What's the story on the twin's father?"

"It is very much mysterious and unclear. He was from some family that Belinda's had supposedly feuded with for a long time, and the two of them were never supposed to even meet, much less get pregnant. Montague and Capulet meet Hatfield and McCoy: a very long standing blood feud. Apparently twins run in the father's family.

My stomach began to growl, so loudly that neither of us could even pretend to ignore it. She laughed. "Just like Old Faithful, Robbie. Good thing I took some precautions." She went over to the big dresser and grabbed a large wooden tray that was covered with a big white napkin, set it down on the bed, and whipped the napkin off rapidly like a stage magician. And magical it was: Russian style black bread, sharp cheddar cheese, great big strawberries, green grapes, some unusual chocolate and orange cookies, and a bucket of iced Perrier bottled waters. She laughed again. "Your eyes just got as big as saucers!" I was hungry.

"I prevailed upon Jeeves to help you out, since I figured you would make us miss afternoon tea, and they don't serve supper her until after nine: a long drawn out affair that takes hours. He was so pleased with your victory over that shithead Chasemoore that he would have gotten you anything!"

"Jeeves seemed like a pretty forgiving fellow to me." I said with my mouth full.

"He is, but our Chasemoore is one of those stuffed shirts that 'tends to mistreat staff' as Belinda puts it. If he didn't respect the lad's grandfather so much, Jeeves would probably just tie the ugly miscreant in a knot and throw him down the well."

"So Jeeves is not just a butler?"

"No. He is Abelard's chief of staff. Belinda said he was selected for the 22nd, which didn't mean anything to me, but from the way she said it, it must be like Rangers or SEALS or something. One of the maids told me that a year or so ago three of the local lads decided to rob this house, after scouting it and figuring Jeeves alone was easy prey with all the other staff off for the weekend. They all three spent several weeks in hospital, and he thanked them kindly for the brief little workout."

I fed Peggy grapes, not feeling the need to peel them for her. She closed her eyes and sucked my fingers very promisingly, though. We (mostly me) polished off all the food very quickly. I tuned to her Suzie and discovered that she really wanted a particular kind of attention, one that I was more than willing to give her. But, I felt a duty to give her a similar chance to do something good for me, too. I kissed her tenderly for a while, and held her on her back with her head over the edge of the bed, and then stood up and put my cock to her lips. Ever giving, she took me into her mouth and smiled up at me. Her smile turned to surprise when I grabbed her waist and lifted her upside down and vertical, throwing her strong legs over my shoulders and applying my mouth strongly to her pussy. Her Suzie soared, and I tuned in earnest, listening for every subtle note that pleased her best. The standing 69 soon became my favorite Olympic event, and I was going for a top score from the female American judge. Her weight was mostly borne by her thighs resting on my shoulders, and it took very little effort to move her up and down on my cock. It also made it easy to move her pelvis into just the right position to chow down on her pussy. No Suzie receiver was needed to confirm her pleasure, as she began to drip enough to wet the sides of my neck and the tops of my shoulders. You go, girl.