Pamela Ch. 06: Lilac Hunt

"No luck?" suggested Pamela as Lilac resumed her seat.

"It's a long story but no, she can't make it," admitted Lilac, taking a sip of her wine. "Another day."

"Look," began Pamela, leaning forward with a sly glance at me. "If you've no other plans, why don't you come back to our place for dinner? I've a nice beef bourguignon in the oven which is far too much for just Frank and I. Please say you will, and maybe I could give Anna a call at the same time."

Lilac hesitated.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I mean, we've only just met and ..."

"It would be a pleasure, I promise," replied Pamela, slowly breaking down Lilac's defences. "Our place is just beyond the railway bridge and if it was late for you getting back, I'm sure Frank here would walk you home, wouldn't you, baby?"

"Absolutely," I replied, nodding.

"Then I accept," said Lilac with a grin. "Thank you."

We had our drinks and discussed her university life, what she liked about looking after herself and then she asked us about life in Little Pissington. Pamela then ventured onto dangerous ground by asking her about boyfriends.

"Oh, I haven't much time for them," she retorted. "Far too busy. They'll have to wait until I've finished my degree, if at all."

I glanced at Pamela whose face was inscrutable.

"But I imagine you must have lots of girlfriends," suggested Pamela. "You know, to have fun with, shopping and going to parties with."

Lilac smiled.

"Well, there is one girlfriend that I spend quite a lot of time with," she admitted, "but I never mention her to grandad. He'd have a fit!"

"And your parents?" added Pamela. "I imagine they've met her?"

"No way," replied Lilac firmly. "Let's say mum and dad are from the old school. They know I share a flat with a girl but that's all they know."

"Well, I think you are being sensible," observed Pamela. "I was gone thirty when I met my first boyfriend, that's nearly six years ago."

"Thirty six!" cried Lilac, doing the sums. "I didn't think you were anywhere near thirty yet."

"And her boyfriend is even older," I put in with a smile. "Pamela likes older guys."

"So ... you're Pamela's first boyfriend?" deduced Lilac, her face a picture of astonishment.

"Only boyfriend," corrected Pamela. "I always preferred girls, maybe like you do?"

There was a few seconds of silence but somehow I didn't think Pamela had said the wrong thing. Lilac broke into a broad grin.

"I think I should have had you two as parents," she said. "It would have been much simpler."

The conversation took to generalities once more. Lilac was amusing and very convivial, not to mention drop-dead-gorgeous. I seemed to be spending most of my time undressing her in my mind, a fact probably not unnoticed by Pamela who gave me a sharp tap on the ankle with her foot more than once. As usual, I finished my pint before the others their drinks and I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. There had to be time for another. I stood up with my empty glass and looked appealingly at the two girls.

"Oh let me!" cried Lilac, searching in her bag.

"No, no, this is on us," retorted Pamela, shaking a hand in front of Lilac to discourage her. "Tonight is our treat."

"There's no point in arguing with Pamela," I observed ruefully. "Be like me, know your place."

Knowing that where Lilac's place ought to have been was on her knees with her face between Pamela's thighs licking her out while I held on to her amazing hips, thrusting my rock-hard cock into her, hopefully, virgin cunt before pulling out to slide it deep inside her tight arsehole filling her with hot, salty cum. Oh yes, I knew her place alright. But as it was, my place was to get another round of drinks in. Still, I can always dream.

Over the second drink, Pamela tried to understand better what the modelling career that Lilac was hoping for would consist of. The young lady certainly had done her homework and, ultimately, she hoped to move into fashion design and have her own fashion house.

"So, have you done any shows?" asked Pamela. "You know, on the catwalk."

"A few," replied Lilac, warming to her subject. "Amateur ones, of course. Nothing really exciting, except I did do a lingerie show once after being talked into it by Helen."

"Helen?" I picked up. "Is she your ..."

"Frank!" cried Pamela, staring at me with cross eyes. "You can't ask questions like that!"

"Oh it's alright," assured Lilac, seemingly quite unperturbed. "Yes, Helen is my other half."

"And she talked you into doing a lingerie show?" I repeated, feeling vindicated for once.

"Yes," replied Lilac. "She was doing some modelling herself, in fact it was at an amateur show where we met, and she suggested we both did it."

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Pamela quietly. "Was it a success?"

"Well, it was I suppose," replied Lilac looking a little embarrassed, glancing instinctively down at her t-shirt front, "but mainly because it was the first time I had ever been seen in sexy lingerie, showing I was quite a big girl."

"Well, I think you're perfectly proportioned," challenged Pamela, taking Lilac's hand in hers to start to stroke it with her other one, keeping hold. "I wish I had what you have."

Lilac laughed but didn't draw her hand back from Pamela's caress until Pamela released her.

"I've had an idea," she announced, looking for her phone. "Would you give me a minute?"

Lilac and I watched as Pamela rose and made her way out into the garden. I took up my pint and had a slug, suddenly feeling strangely uncomfortable in the presence of a sexy young woman.

"Pamela has such a perfect figure for a fashion model," observed Lilac as Pamela disappeared through the doors. "She's so beautiful."

"I know," I replied, "but if you asked her I think she would prefer not to be so slim. I guess no-one is ever happy with themselves."

"Especially women," retorted with a laugh. "We must be dreadful to you guys!"

I laughed, not quite sure how to respond at which point Lilac excused herself to go to powder her nose and I thoroughly enjoyed watching her as she walked stylishly away from me. After a few minutes, she returned, just before Pamela did from the garden, looking pleased with herself.

"The cat got the cream?" I surmised, as she sat down again next to Lilac, taking her hand once more to resume its caress.

"Maybe," she replied before turning her head to Lilac. "I just spoke to Anna Walsingham and told her about you and she's very interested."

Lilac's eyes were alight with excitement.

"I explained a little bit about you," went on Pamela, "and she said there could well be a position for someone with your shape, as she put it ..."

"You mean big tits and a fat bum!" interjected Lilac, laughing, prompted more my nerves than humour.

"Yes," went on Pamela, smiling. "Anyway, she made a suggestion. It seems she isn't busy this evening so wondered whether you could do an impromptu show for her using Skype, just to see you?"

Lilac's face was a picture.

"Well, yes, but where could I do it?" she replied in dismay. "And what could I wear?"

"Ah well, as far as where is concerned, we have a library at home which is plenty long enough for you to walk up and down," explained Pamela, seemingly holding Lilac's hand as if to make sure she didn't run away, "and we have a camcorder which we can use to film you and send to Anna afterwards as well as an iPad we can use to Skype."

I made a mental note to remember to transfer my recording of Pamela as the naughty schoolgirl being dominated by Miss Bell as the strict headmistress before filming anything new.

"And as for what you could wear," continued Pamela, "Anna asked if you have jeans with you?"

"Yes, I do," confirmed Lilac, nodding. "Well, back at the vicarage."

"That's good," said Pamela. "You don't have a short skirt as well, do you, just to show off your legs?"

"No, I only brought things for the fair and just hanging around the village," replied Lilac, her voice filled with disappointment, "and it's too late to buy anything ..."

"What size shoes do you wear?" asked Pamela, looking down at Lilac's flat shoes. "Five?"

"Yes," confirmed Lilac. "Size five, but what ..."

"Look," interjected Pamela, thinking aloud. "We need three outfits at least for you on our catwalk. Four would have been better but three will have to do. First you can go as you are once we've glammed you up a bit; second you can keep on your t-shirt but with your jeans and I've some heels you can borrow; and last, well, I think we can do the sexy look with some of my gear."

The thought of Lilac parading up and down the library at home in some of Pamela's sexy kit prompted a definite hardening of the occupant of my trousers. This was unreal.

"This is unreal," said Lilac, mimicking my thoughts. "I'm so grateful to both of you."

"It's our pleasure," countered Pamela, taking a sip of her hardly touched second drink. "Right, come on! We've lots to do before you, Miss Hunt, hit the big time!"

I drained my pint and clambered to my feet, following the others who walked out with Pamela leading Lilac by the hand. We set off back down The Street.

"Right, here's what we're going to do," said Pamela to Lilac, directing operations as always. "Lilac, you go back to the vicarage and pick up your jeans and make-up and things and meet me at the railway bridge in twenty minutes. Frank will go back to our place and start to sort out the library for the catwalk. I think we brought with us a roll of red stairs' carpet but I don't know exactly where it is."

"I'll find it," I said dutifully.

"I've had an idea about a skirt for you," went on Pamela. "What size are you? Fourteen, U.K. size?"

"Fourteen is right," advised Lilac, "but I can usually make a twelve if I want it to look tight."

"Right, Lilac and I will be back home around half-six," continued Pamela, ignoring my face as the thought of Lilac's arse in a sexy skirt sprung up in my mind's eye. "I've set up the Skype call with Anna for eight o'clock, so we've enough time to prepare. I suggest we have dinner afterwards, around nine."

"Right," I replied, leaving the others. "I'll be off."

As luck would have it, I found the red stairs carpet easily. The room, forty feet long and twenty feet wide, had the 'corridor' between the two doors along the inner wall, adjacent to a series of floor to ceiling bookcases with glass doors. It didn't take long to clear away one or two chairs that had migrated away from the windows and then I rolled out the carpet and walked up and down it several times to iron out as many kinks as I could. Once I had it settled, noting it was over thirty feet long and ideal for the purpose, I positioned a small table at one end to hold the camcorder for my usage and assumed Pamela would work with the iPad to in managing the Skype call, talking to Anna as well as helping Lilac to change costumes, a task I felt I was eminently suited to but suspected the others may not have agreed. Finally, I set up my camera lights and just as I had convinced myself there wasn't anything else I could do, I heard the front door open and close and the sound of two voices from the hall.

"Success?" I ventured, going past the cloakroom to meet them in the hall. Pamela nodded.

Lilac had a small suitcase on wheels and looked excited beyond words. Pamela, ever the calm, organised one, held a carrier bag which she handed over to Lilac.

"Right," she said. "Let me show you where the guest bedroom is that you can use as your dressing room and you can sleep there tonight in case you decide to stay."

"I hope it's alright," replied Lilac sheepishly, "but I told my grandad I'm staying with my friend, the one who didn't turn up at the pub. I hope that's alright."

"Of course it is," confirmed Pamela with a smile and a glance of triumph at me. "That's what we said. Good, so please make yourself at home. We've plenty of time. Come on, up the stairs so we can sort out your outfits and then you can take a shower or bath while I look at what Frank has set up in the library. When you're ready, hopefully no later than seven thirty, come down in a dressing gown over your first outfit and go through that door over there, turn right, through the music room and the billiard room and you'll find Frank and I in the bar."

With that, Pamela led the way up the main staircase with Lilac following, my eyes fixed once again on her tantalising rear as it slowly made its way upstairs with her long auburn hair falling loosely over her back. I knew she was driving me crazy.

I returned to the library and decided it was as good as I could make it, especially as the long curtains, when closed, with the effective lights from my camera equipment would offer an effective ambience for the show. Moving over to the windows, I looked out. Beyond the flower borders under the windows was a lawned area alongside which a path led to the lawn tennis court just beyond a bank of trees which, subject to the weather, I hoped would accommodate Pamela and Gemma Woodbourne play on the following Friday evening when Miss Woodbourne was our guest. Further to the right I could see the bowling green, a game I encouraged Pamela to play wearing her shortest miniskirt so I could stand behind her as she played, admiring the view. Just then, I heard footsteps coming through the hall and Pamela joined me in the library.

"That looks great," she complimented as she took in the makeshift catwalk, taking a turn along the red carpet and returning to where I was leaning on one of the bookcases. "Maybe I should take up fashion modelling rather than the type you would prefer me to do?"

"No way," I rebuffed with a laugh. "Anyway, is she alright?"

"Yes, she's fine," replied Pamela. "She thinks the Playroom is amazing too. She said she's never been in a room with so many mirrors before. I'm certain she doesn't suspect a thing."

"I hope not," I said, taking a deep breath.

"Relax," assured Pamela, coming over to run her arms around my neck. "She's fine. We've sorted out her four costumes ..."

"Four?" I queried. "I thought she said she didn't have a skirt?"

"She doesn't, but Miss Bell has," she replied. "After you both left me I called her and, fortunately, she was in and was happy to help. She's only a size ten but had quite a few size twelve and fourteen outfits she was acquired over the years, so, while I was making my way round to her place, she picked out two or three for Lilac to try. You have no idea how good she is going to look. Oh baby, she has just amazing breasts, I just ..."

I gathered her to me to kiss, silencing her.

"Let's go to 'The Pub'," I suggested. "That's where we said she should find us in ... let me see, just over half an hour."

"O.K.," she agreed, with a smile. "I'll just go and make sure dinner isn't suffering and meet you there."

We passed back into the hall and Pamela took the stairs down to the lower ground floor where the kitchen was located while I made my way straight to 'The Pub' with my newspaper. I flicked on the lights behind the bar and pushed a pound coin into the slot of the traditional sixties jukebox Pamela had bought me the previous Christmas, choosing a few of my old favourites. Deciding to wait for her to join me before pulling myself a pint, I took a seat on one of the bar stools with my newspaper on the counter and looked at the headlines. Like the internet news earlier, it all seemed so uninteresting when compared with the thought of Lilac's tits and arse. I pictured her behind the bar in front of me, dressed in a tight mini-dress and high heels serving Pamela and I, firstly in the bar, and then afterwards on the Playroom bed. I shuddered at the imagery of it in my mind's eye. She was one sexy young lady.

As the jukebox began to play the Hot Chocolate hit number, 'It Started With A Piss', I heard a movement behind me and turned to see Pamela approaching. I was torn as to where to look. She had changed.

"Baby!" I exclaimed as I first saw her in a tight blue t-shirt with nothing under it so her erect nipples pushed out into the material, with a tight black A-line skirt above fishnet stockings and stilettos that matched her top.

"Like it?" she purred. "I thought I ought to get into the swing of things! What do you think?"

"You look incredible," I gushed as, leaning back, she did a twirl.

She laughed, moving forward to clamber up onto one of the bar stools with some difficulty, given the tightness of her skirt.

"Like the skirt?" she pressed. "I think I'm going to wear it on Friday night when Gemma Woodbourne comes round. I think she'll approve, don't you?"

"I thought the idea was for both of you to wear tennis gear," I observed. "That was the plan."

"She won't turn up in her tennis gear," she objected. "We'll change before we go out to play, as will you as you'll be umpire. Now, I'd like a Pinot noir, please."

"Certainly, madam," I replied, sliding off my stool and going around the back of the bar to fix her drink and pull myself a pint. "Coming right up. Will there be anything else, madam?"

Pamela paused, musing.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "If I can get Lilac into the Playroom bed tonight, would you be happy watching from the voyeur's lair? I don't think she's ready for a guy just yet, let alone a threesome. I'll make it up to you afterwards, baby. I promise."

I nodded my head ruefully, pulling the cork from the Pinot and pouring out a glass for her and placing it in front of her before taking down a pint glass to pull a perfect pint of 'The Dog's Bollocks' into a straight glass. It was a hard world, especially in my trousers. As the strains of Errol Brown faded away on the jukebox to be replaced by Rusty Springboard belting out 'Take Another Piece Of My Arse', I came round from serving to stand alongside Pamela and put my hand around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

We chatted generally for a while as Terry and the Pisstakers reminded us 'You'll Never Wank Alone' and it was just on half-past seven as Helen Shapiro had just finished 'Wanking Back To Happiness' when Lilac walked into 'The Pub' to join us. Dressed in an ankle-length white satin dressing gown that was pulled closely fastened, she clip-clopped over the stone floor in her matching stilettos with her hair left loose. She looked just fabulous.

Pamela slid off her bar stool to meet her, taking hold of both her hands in hers.

"You look just perfect, and I do so love the dark lips: they're just irresistible!" she purred. "Don't worry, I shan't try to kiss you until later."

"If I manage to get through this," retorted Lilac, smiling, "then I'll let you, and that's a promise!"

"What about me?" I put in in mock objection. "I don't see why Pamela should have all the fun!"

Lilac laughed.

"Maybe I'll let you peck me on my cheeks," she replied without thinking.

"Frank!" cried Pamela. "Stop it! Say no more! That's enough!"

I clammed up, playing the hard-done-by schoolboy, my shoulders slumped, my lower lip quivering.

"Lilac," continued Pamela. "Would you like this dreadful man fix you a drink?"

Lilac laughed again.

"Thank you," she replied. "Something to sip. Scotch and ice would be great if you have it."

"Coming right up," I announced, moving around to behind the bar. "Johnnie Wanker be alright?"

"Just ignore his schoolboy humour," pressed Pamela, manoeuvring Lilac towards a bar stool. "I do."

I fixed Lilac's drink and placed it in front of her. She lifted it straight up to her mouth and took a sip as if she needed one, as I think she did.

"Now, are you sure you're happy with what we ended up with for the show?" asked Pamela, turning to her left to take Lilac's free hand into hers once more. "We still have time to change it if you feel uncomfortable about any of it, especially the ending, so please say if you do."