No Controlling Legal Authority Ch. 14

"Come on, honey; I'll help you up," Nancy said gently, and she stooped to lift Imogene by the armpits, back onto her feet.

Imogene blinked blankly and looked a mess. Her face was smeared with Nancy's juices, which had mingled with mascara and lipstick to form a series of strangely colored smears and blotches. Her arm, the one she had used on Nancy, hung limply by her side like an exhausted prick, fittingly, Nancy thought, and it dripped lubricant in a succession of droplets, which splattered darkly onto the carpet. The spiderweb nightie hung off one shoulder, and the panties had a suspicious tear in front near the transparent panel.

"You ready to go out there and be nice to my Archie, now?" Nancy inquired, though she already knew the answer.

"Yes, ma'am," Imogene replied without hesitation, and she meant it. She might have had to fake it before, but she meant it now. The experience with Nancy had left her depleted and energized at the same time; "hot and bothered," they say, and she was ready for him. She was ready for anything, anything at all that would relieve the terrible yearning in her crotch; anything that would put out the fires in her swollen nipples. Yes, she thought wryly, I'm ready for Archie.

"Clean yourself up a little, first; there's towellettes and some makeup in the dressing table there," Nancy said nodding toward the table behind Imogene, where, earlier, she had placed the martini shaker.

Imogene cleaned up quickly, sponging her face and arms with "Wet Ones" and drying with disposable towels. She picked a lipstick from among several in the drawer, and colored her lips with a few flicks of her wrist. She picked up a bottle of perfume from the top of the table and looked at the unfamiliar label. She guessed it was imported and expensive, and she dabbed a drop behind her ears and on each wrist.

"Put some on your breasts, too, honey," Nancy suggested; she had been watching the process with keen interest.

Imogene moistened her forefinger with perfume and drew a wet line from the top of her breast out to the tip of her nipple, then circled the nipple itself, spreading the sweet smelling fluid all over the point. Nancy continued to watch as Imogene repeated the process with her other breast and replaced the stopper in the perfume bottle.

"Put a little on your pussy, too; who knows, you might get lucky," Nancy suggested with a wicked grin.

Imogene looked at her wanly, and, thinking of Rufus' stolid inclinations, she started to protest that she was never that lucky, but she thought better of it, and went along with the suggestion. She wetted her finger again and pulled her panties out with her dry hand. She plunged her fingers through the tangle of her pubic hairs, and rubbed the perfume in liberally. When she was done, she turned to face Nancy and said, "There, how's that?"

"Not bad, baby, but that nightie's got to go; what's left of it, that is."

Imogene shrugged nonchalantly, and the jacket slipped off her shoulders and dropped to the floor behind her. She hooked her thumbs in the waist of her panties and shucked them off her hips and down her legs. She stepped out of the panties, and stooped to scoop them up along with the jacket. She handed the wisps of cloth to Nancy, and, faced her unabashedly, for she had come to realize that she couldn’t suck someone's pussy till they came and still be squeamish about having them see her naked. She raised her arms, palms up, to her sides, as if to say, well, here I am, and said, "This better?"

"Much," Nancy said huskily. She was staring at the girl hungrily, like their brief encounter hadn't satisfied her completely, and Imogene began to think she might not get to feel Archie's hottie meter just yet after all.

Imogene smiled and tried to look enticing. It mattered little to her at that stage what source provided the relief she required; Archie, Nancy, it didn't matter. Hell, she figured, if she didn't get some relief soon, she might have to drive out to the school and jump Rufus' bones right there in his office. That was a thought that cooled the flames of her ardor right quick, and a frown crossed her face.

Nancy grinned, almost reading the girl's mind. "See that jar on the table, the white one?"

Imogene looked around on the table for a minute without success.

"There, the one with the brown label on the side that says `Prolong.' See it?"

"Oh, yeah, here it is," Imogene answered picking up the designated jar.

"Bring it here."

Imogene complied, walking to the woman and handing her the jar.

Nancy unscrewed the cap and removed it. The container was filled to the top with a white, creamy substance that looked like cold cream. Nancy dipped two fingers into the jar, scooping out a hefty portion of cream that covered her fingers in a slippery blob.

"Spread your legs," she said in a throaty voice.

Imogene moved her feet apart and opened her legs.

"Wider, squat down a little."

Imogene squatted and pushed her knees apart. Her thighs spread open.

Nancy stepped closer and reached out to steady the girl with a hand to her shoulder. She leaned forward and brought her hand up between Imogene's legs. Imogene held her breath and waited for the touch of Nancy's fingers. She quivered in anticipation. Her loins burned to be touched, fingered, clawed, whatever Nancy was offering, she was accepting.

The cool cream touched her burning flesh, and she recoiled with a surprised moan.

"Be still," Nancy urged softly, tightening her grip on Imogene's shoulder.

Imogene forced her hips to halt. She licked her lips and felt the slippery tips of Nancy's fingers probing between her legs. She looked at Nancy imploringly for the instant or two it took Nancy to find her opening, then, as she felt Nancy's fingers advancing, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she lifted her chin, moaning, "Oooooooo."

Nancy's practiced fingers adroitly deposited the viscid blob within the girl's vault and swiftly massaged the substance into her hot tissues. She worked quickly, twisting her two fingers deep inside the girl with clinical efficiency. She had done pelvic exams before, plenty of times, back when she was in the business, and, most of the time, it was strictly business. Imogene gripped her fingers with eager intensity and groaned.

"Am I hurting you, honey? Your pussy's so small, either Rufus has been neglecting you, or he's been fucking you with a broom straw."

"No, no," Imogene mouthed breathlessly, "feels good; what is it?" Her snug channel closed tightly around Nancy's fingers as the cream warmed.

"`Prolong,' honey; it’s like medicine. It'll numb you some and slow him down, if you can get him up, that is; be good for both of you, trust me."

"Oh," Imogene replied noncommittally, since she was ignorant about such things, but she looked at Nancy woefully when she felt the woman's fingers retreating.

"It's Archie's turn, baby," the woman sighed with a hint of resignation. She stepped toward the door, drying her hands on a towel as she went. Her hand gripped the doorknob, and she looked at Imogene deliberatively. "Are you ready, then?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied, and she drew a breath deeply, and threw her shoulders back to align her posture with her resolve.

The knob turned, and Imogene stepped forward without hesitation. Nancy held the door closed till Imogene was standing beside her.

"Be nice to him, Imogene; he's just a kid, who looks like a man," she said in a confidential whisper, "Lord only knows why, but He took most of his brains and put them between his legs, like giving a two year old a bulldozer to drive, you might say."

Imogene placed her palm against the door, exerting gentle pressure, as if to signal her readiness to proceed. "He'll be fine, Nancy," she reassured the boy's mother matter of factly, "I told you I wanted to make it up to him, and you, and that's what I'm going to do."

Nancy released her grip on the knob, and the door swung open. Imogene stepped into the den and shut the door noiselessly behind her.