No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 08

"Why did you do that?" She confronted Antoinelle after he had gone. "You put me in a very compromising position!"

"Oh, pleaze, child. Really. 'e was nozhing. What would 'e 'ave seen. Your beautiful breasts and pussy. Eet would 'ave been a wonderful tip for 'eem. Zomezhing for 'eem to talk about, hmmm?" As she discounted Marcie's concerns, she offered her a champagne.

Antoinelle took a sip from her glass and slurped one of the oysters. "'ave one," she proffered another shell to Marcie, "zhey are fantastique!" When Marcie didn't respond, she continued. "Marcie. Pleaze. Grow up. You are very beautiful. 'e vwould have been excited. Pleaze. Sit. 'ave a sip and an oyster. Look. You zsee? 'e couldn't keep 'iz eyez off me."

She took a seat at the table and looked up to see that Antoinelle had left her robe untied. Her breasts peeked out as did her bush. Marcie blushed involuntarily, her groin responding as well. She giggled. "You didn't!" She whispered.

"But uv courze. It iz only natural. 'e iz a young man, and you are a beautiful woman. You zhould zhow it off, yes?"

They sipped and ate the oysters, Antoinelle refilling Marcie's glass more times than Marcie could remember. Her head was spinning again and she could feel the heat building inside her.

"It iz time," Antoinelle said, standing up. "Let us get you made up, yes?" She offered her hand to Marcie and as she stood, the older woman reached for her robe. "Do not keep zhis on. It 'ides your beauty." She removed the robe off Marcie's shoulders, taking the glass from her momentarily. "Your body, Marcie. Eet eez a beautiful zhing. You zhould neverh 'ide eet."

A rush of emotions sped through her: she blushed at the compliment, she was terrified at where this might be leading and on top of it all, she could feel her moisture growing, her body's reaction belying her mind's protest.

She let Antoinelle lead her back to the vanity where the older woman sat her down.

"You are Monty's girlfriend, yes?" It seemed to Marcie the woman might have been a little drunk.

"Yes..."

"For 'ow long?" She held back Marcie's hair, looking at her face and neck. Marcie stared at herself in the mirror, her breasts rising and falling, the woman's naked body behind her.

"About two months....or so."

"You want to make 'im very 'ard tonight?" Her fingers drifted down her neck to her shoulders sending shivers up her spine and igniting the smoldering in her belly.

"Please. What are you...what does this have to do with our make-up?" She sounded so small and vulnerable, but she didn't know how to stop what was happening. She could feel her labia swelling, the heat and juice beginning to flow. All day she had been teased, first by Monty who left her hanging, and then the colonic, the zip, the touching and caressing. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to close her legs. The pressure on her clit only made matters worse.

"Your breasts. 'e will want to suckle on your nipples, yes?" Antoinelle pulled up a chair and turned Marcie to face her. "We will start wizh your breasts. We will finish wizh your face."

Marcie took a sip of champagne hoping more alcohol would reduce her fear. What was she talking about? She watched as Antoinelle reached for various vials, tubes and powders, sifting through the skyline of cosmetics until she had chosen a few.

"Never, never paint your breasts, child. At least, never wizh somezhing 'e would not want to taste, yes?" She opened a small tub, and dipped a brush into the powder. "Zhis is a completely organic, vegetable bazed rouge. 'e vwill like eet's taste."

Antoinelle took the brush and began to lightly paint around Marcie's nipples, first at their very edge and gradually working out to the outer edge of her aureolae. "Zhis part, the aureola, yes? Yours eez very light...eet eez quite nize, by zhe way, but zhis rouge...eet vwill enhance eet, hmm?"

Her touch was feather light and as she painted, Marcie felt her nipples tighten and harden, the aureloa wrinkling. "I'm sorry..." she whispered, embarrassed at her body's reaction. Her hands fluttered, wanting to cover herself but knowing that would be stupid.

"Eet eez not a problem, child. Eet eez natural. Jhust relax and let me make you up."

The brush tickled, but even more it frustrated. As she brushed lightly over her crinkled skin, the hairs sent little explosions into her chest. The growing ember in her groin licked up and after a few moments they joined.

Antoinelle stopped to admire her work and then began again, painting another layer with frustrating, painstaking care.

"Please," she moaned, holding up her hands. "It...is...tickles...it is too much."

"Shhh....jhust try to relax...zhere, zhere. Put your 'ands on your knees. I still 'ave much more to do."

She sat back and closed her eyes, hoping the room would stay still. Antoinelle brushed lightly across her nipples, forcing them to stiffen further. Slowly, from the tip to the base, and then again, ten strokes on one nipple, and then ten on the other. Marcie's breathing deepened and she opened her legs, pushing herself deeper into the chair. She moaned again as Antoinelle started over again. "Please...stop...it...I'm...I can't....please?"

"Zhat is beautiful. Look at yourself! You are the picture of eroticism!" Antoinelle turned her chair to face the mirror and Marcie saw her face, her eyes burning with passion, her mouth slack, her tongue glistening. She looked down to see her breasts -- and her eyes opened wider. Where before she had slightly pink nipples against a very pale aureola, the nipples were now a deeper brown, the aureola two shades darker. They stood out against her porcelain white breasts, exaggerating the extremes of both.

"You see? Now when 'e strips you tonight, 'e vwill see somezhing 'e doesn't expect."

Antoinelle dipped down and kissed her on the neck just above her collarbone, sending a drop of arousal down her back.

"I...I've never...I don't think I should..."

"Shh...do not zhink...jhust feel." She moved her fingers to Marcie's nipples and pinched them, twisting them lightly, causing them to harden further drawing a moan from her. "Zhat eez eet, Marcie. Let me 'elp you..."

She kissed her neck, her cheek and then her lips, pushing her tongue into the young woman's mouth, forcing her head back slightly. Now with both hands on her breasts she continued to lightly kneed her nipples, sending sparks into her chest and spine.

"Taste vhat Monty vwill be tasting." She brought her fingers up to Marcie's mouth and waited for her to lick them. She pulled her fingers away as Marcie's tongue tried to find them, baiting her, causing her to lean forward. "Come. Eet vwill be more comfortable on zhe bed."

Marcie wanted to just run. To leave the room and wait for Monty, but her body was on fire, the alcohol fanning the flames that had erupted. She let the woman lead her to the bed, her tongue almost touching her fingers but never quite making contact. She could barely taste the rouge -- it had a slight taste of rose, but she couldn't be sure.

Antoinelle laid her down on her back, her knee pushing gently between Marcie's legs until she pressed against her sex. "I am goingk to eat you...to eat your beautiful pussy. I 'ave wanted to all day, and now, you vwill relax and let me taste you." She leaned down and pushed Marcie's hands over her head, her lips on hers again, her tongue inside her.

She worked her way down her chin, her neck, between her breasts, her nipples now ignored pulsed with the memory of the pinching and the teasing from the brush. She continued to kiss her way to her navel, her hands now on her waist, her legs moved down to push Marcie's ankles further apart. And then her mouth was on the strip of pubic hair, her teeth dragging through the thicket forcing Marcie to curl her pelvis up, to push herself at the woman's mouth.

God! What am I doing? What is happening to me? In spite of her inner protest, her body was on fire and she submitted to the experience. You want to be a slut, right? Well, here's your chance. She moaned again as Antoinelle lightly ran her fingers across her open lips, the juices now freely flowing. She felt the woman's fingernails drag down the perineum to her asshole and she feebly protested, a sound that could easily have been a moan of delight.

Antoinelle lightly traced her tongue in Marcie's slit, tasting the salty lubricants. "You are liking zhis. Zhat is nize."

Marcie couldn't deny it felt wonderful. Antoinelle had unsheathed her clit with her tongue, lightly swirling around it, forcing a moan from her. "Yes...oh yessss, yesss, god I needed that...yess..."

Around and around she danced her tongue, stiffening her bud until she could purse her lips around it. Sucking softly on it, she pushed against Marcie's cunny, her chin opening her labia to coat her face with her juices.

"Oh. My. God. Please. Please. Please." She'd never felt anything like it and she writhed under the woman's mouth trying to pull away or push in harder she didn't know which. Antoinelle kept up the pressure, sending waves of pleasure up through her groin, up her spine, to behind her eyes. She could feel an orgasm building and she began to moan in an unending stream of encouragement. And then, Antoinelle pulled away, sitting back on her heels.

"No. No. Nooooo. Please. Don't stop. Please. Please. What can I do? Please..." She had been so close. So close. She brought her hands down and reached for the woman's head to pull her back down. She moved her hands to her cunny to finger herself. She was so close.

"No, no, no, non!" Antoinelle took her hands away. "You mustn't ever ever do zhis. Not before you are vwizh your man. No!"

Marcie looked up at her, tears filling her eyes. Her frustration was more than she'd ever felt. She had been soooo close, god damnit.

"Shhh....shhh, now calm down, child. Calm." Antoinelle petted her cheeks, wiping the tears away, but carefully avoided her breasts or her groin. "Eet eez very important not to come vwith anozher person...you may 'ave zhe sex, but not zhe orgasm. Zhe orgasm eez zhe zhing between you and your lover. Vwe are not loverz, yes?"

Marcie wasn't sure what they were, but it was one of the strangest philosophies she'd ever heard. It didn't help her calm down one bit; her vagina was ablaze, the skin from the brazillian suddenly reminding her of how sensitive she was down there.

"Zhis might 'elp you. Shhh. Zjhust lie zhere." Antoinelle got up, lithe like a cat and rummaged around in her cosmetic collection, returning with a small bottle. "I vwas afraid zhe brazillian might not be calm....zhis will 'elp." She poured some lotion onto her hand and lightly rubbed it into the skin around her vagina, massaging it in until it had disappeared.

Marcie wasn't sure if she was purposely avoiding touching her to prevent her from going over the top or to frustrate her more, but the effect was to drive her crazy. Antoinelle repeated the process on the other side and then slowly pulled her lips out, rubbing lotion on the outside and along their edges. With each stroke, Marcie raised her pelvis up, hoping to have her push her fingers or hands against her.

"Now...shh...relax...eet vwill feel better very soon. Shhh...." She patted her on her pubic mound, pushing her down onto the bed. Leaning over her, she put the bottle on the night stand and then lay down on top of her, her breasts lining up with Marcie's. Antoinelle took her lips in hers and gently kissed her, moving her arms again over her head. "Zhis is nize, no? You like zhis." She continued to kiss her softly and then rose up onto her elbows and then on her knees. "Please, you vwill 'elp me?"

Before Marcie knew what she meant, Antoinelle had wriggled herself up her body until her vagina was just over her mouth. She had never eaten a woman before and she wasn't sure she wanted to right now, given how frustrated she was. But before she could move, Antoinelle held her face and slowly lowered herself onto Marcie's mouth. Gently, very gently, she brushed her lips against Marcie's, her full bush tickled her nose. She couldn't make out the words, but she understood the woman's meaning as she tucked her pelvis slightly, opening her labia.

Marcie darted her tongue out to taste her and was pleasantly surprised. She tasted much different than her own musk, fresher than she expected. She pushed her tongue into the woman's channel as deeply as she could, dragging it back out. In again, pushing her head as tightly against the woman's crotch as she could and then out. In...deep...out. She repeated the rhythm until Antoinelle was pushing with her, riding her like a small pony.

Marcie wanted to tease her clit to force her to moan like Antoinelle had done to her. She lifted her tongue slightly, finding the sheath and was surprised again at the size of the woman's clit. It was like the small joint of her pinky finger, erect and exposed. She reached up and sucked on it lightly and grinned when Antoinelle shrieked out slightly from the intensity. Her legs squeezed her head as Marcie continued to lick her, returning her tongue to dip into her channel and out again.

And then, just as suddenly as she had stopped before, Antoinelle pulled away, her face flushed. "I' vwill need anozher shower if vwe keep zhis up!" She rolled off the bed and wiped her face with a towel. "Eet eez getting late. Come, vwe must finish zhe make-up."

Marcie felt spent. The glow in her lower spine was bright yellow, her breasts were on fire and there was a tingling around her vagina that she'd never felt before. Antoinelle sat her down in the chair again, and spent the next 30 minutes painting her face, touching up her breasts and finishing with more lotion on her crotch. The tingling had increased until she felt the need to push her legs together or rub herself with her hands.

"Zhe tingling, yes? Eet vwill go away soon. Eet feels good, hmmm?"

Eet does not feel good, no! But she couldn't bring herself to say it. She was horny. More horny than she'd been in years and the lotion, she was beginning to suspect, was not helping one bit. But she wasn't angry at Antoinelle. It wasn't her fault, completely at least, she hadn't climaxed today. She was oddly intrigued by how the afternoon had gone -- an experience she never would have predicted, nor her reaction to it -- again, no shame, no humiliation, just a little fear and embarrassment. The fear she kind of understood -- she was concerned about her relationship with Monty, but apparently, because she hadn't cum, their relationship was safe. She smiled and tried to ignore the mounting tingling around her cunny.

She watched as Antoinelle expertly made up her own face. In only minutes she had transformed herself into a woman 20 years younger.

"Our 'air appointments, mon dieu, only five minutes. Quckly!"

They threw on their robes, refilled their glasses and raced to the salon. Marcie agreed she would return to the room to retrieve the packages.

Later, back in her room waiting for Monty, she admired herself in the mirror: her hair looked fantastic, her cheeks and eyes highlighted by Antoinelle's expert work, the dress practically exposed her without showing anything and the pearls accentuated her neck. She hoped Monty would be pleased. The woman staring at her from the mirror looked like her, if that's what a million bucks looked like.

She turned at the sound of the door opening and Monty talking to someone.

"That's the right plan. Excellent. Yes. Let me know next week how that turns out. Thanks, Mike. Okay. You too." He hung up and closed the door.

She stood waiting for him nervously. Would he like what she'd done? Would he be disappointed in the change of dress?

He looked up, saw her and the look of joy on his face settled any of her concerns. He crossed the distance between them, putting his briefcase down on the way and opened his arms for an embrace.

"You look spectacular!" He practically shouted the words before he closed on her mouth with a kiss. "What did you do? You went to the spa, right!" He stood back to look at her and noticed the dress. "That isn't what we picked out, is it? It's soooo much better."

She twirled a little to show him the whole package. "Do you like the ensemble," she said coquettishly looking over her shoulder, biting her lower lip.

"Yes. Yes I do. You certainly are playing the part!" He reached over and flipped up the hem of her dress to see her panties. "Hmmm...I think you might be a little overdressed, though, don't you?"

She blushed and breathed through the rush of arousal his suggestion raised in her. He can't be serious. No underwear tonight? But she realized that was what a prostitute would do, wouldn't she?

He undid his tie and removed his coat. "I've got to take a shower." As he peeled off his clothes she noticed his erection and giggled.

"You haven't had that all day, have you?"

"All fucking day," he said grinning. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. About you on the beach, about you naked in the sun. Look," he pointed to his hard on, "I couldn't get up out of my chair most of the time."

He came back to her and hugged her, pressing his erection against her leg.

"Would you mind, terribly, if we had a quickie? I really don't know if I can go tonight like this."

Without waiting for a response, he turned her around to face the back of the chair and peeled off her panties. Before she could protest he had spread her legs and run his fingers along her slit.

"Hmmm, I see you haven't been idle today, eh?" He showed her the moisture on her fingers and she blushed.

They were standing sideways in front of the vanity mirror, as he pushed she planted her hands on the back of the chair. From this vantage point she could see the two of them -- he naked, his shaft hard and angry, and her dressed, with her hem flipped up behind her. He grabbed her waist and slipped his cock into her, pushing in easily. She moaned at the sensation, the flickerings of her arousal fanned by his motions.

She looked at them in the mirror as he began to fuck her, pummeling his shaft into her and pulling out. With each cycle she gasped, in and out, urging him to make her come. But she knew she couldn't do it in this position -- she'd never been able to orgasm when she was taken from behind, and she couldn't finger herself; she needed her hands to keep from falling over.

She stared at the couple in the mirror: his animal need slamming into her, the bouncing of her small breasts visible beneath the neckline of the dress, her face, expertly made up. She really did look the part and the sensation of his cock moving in her only helped convince her she was his slut. She couldn't stop her body from jiggling, the force of his body blurring her vision.

He groaned and then she could feel the climax building. "Nooooo, nooo," he protested. It was the first time she'd heard him act this way and again thought about hotel rooms and how they changed things. She watched him clench his teeth, the climax passing through him like a shock wave and then he was done.

'I'm sorry..." he said breathlessly. "I almost lost it there....I haven't felt that way in years..." He was muttering, stroking her and kissing her neck.

"What are you sorry about. It felt fantastic." She reached behind to feel him, turning her head to kiss his face.

"I almost came," he confessed. "I could feel the pre-cum starting to ejaculate and had to clamp down.

She stood still, feeling him pull out of her and looked at the woman in the mirror. A cat-eating-canary grin spread across her face and she silently gave herself a high-five. There's hope yet!

"I think it's okay," he mumbled, putting her dress back down. "I really think it would be best if you kept those off," pointing to the underwear on the floor, "but naturally it's up to you. I've got to take a shower." And just like that, his normal self-confidence had returned. "Come in with me; tell me about your day."