Rachel's Revenge

"So this is Val...about whom I've heard so much!" she said in a throaty voice, sweeping toward me with an outstretched hand, palm down, her petticoats rustling under her full, black, knee-length silk skirt.

I grasped her hand as softly as one would that of a queen, and pronounced, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Noyes." Thurber raced up to us, his tongue licking away.

"Now isn't that sweet, Rachel!" she gushed, "So old-worldly. Please call me Denise, Val, since I'm sure we'll be friends! And put that dog outside, dear," she said to Rachel. "I don't want him drooling on us!"

"Val brought us corsages, Mother," said Rachel, as she opened a door and ushered Thurber out onto what looked likehisprivate deck.

"Did he? Well, let's put them on! Run get them, will you dear?...while I show Val around." She linked her arm through mine and walked me through French doors to an outdoor patio surrounding a huge swimming pool. "This is where we spend half our life, Rachel and I...when she's not working."

Rachel appeared with the flowers, selected the white one for Denise and – without pausing – began pinning it to her mother's blouse, a high-necked, long-sleeved, muted red and gold stripe fabric on a black background. I watched the two women as they got the corsage just right, and marveled at their contrasts. Rachel was shorter by a few inches, with a more voluptuous figure. Denise was thinner, seemed more muscular, and had dark auburn hair curling under at her collarbone. Her body probably measured 36C-26-36, and moved like that of a thoroughbred filly. She knew very well how to use it, I surmised, and imagined that she'd turned many men's heads in her time.

My daydream was interrupted as Rachel brought her corsage to me. "Will you please put on mine, Val?"

"I'm afraid I'll stick you with the pin," I warned, approaching her with trembling fingers.

"Nonsense," she said as she grabbed my hand, sticking three fingers of my right hand inside the arm hole of her dress just over her bosom. She looked into my eyes and closed hers slowly as my fingers brushed the upper slope of her baby-smooth, braless left breast. "Now, be good," she teased in a whisper. "You'll prick yourself if you're not careful."

None of this was lost on Denise. After I'd successfully attached her daughter's flower, she cleared her throat and offered drinks. "Please make a pitcher of Cosmopolitans for me, would you Rachel?" then we resumed our tour of the house, starting with the library and music room, then the bedrooms.

Rachel caught up with us as Denise led me through the bedroom wing, pointing out their rooms, then another, which she called "my husband's old room." I caught Rachel's eye as I drank my scotch and her mother sipped at her pink cocktail. She shook her head in a negative way, which told me I shouldn't remark about the separate accommodations that her parents had maintained. Then we returned to the drawing room, where Denise poured herself another drink from an icy pitcher.

"Rachel says your family's from one of the Baltic countries...Latvia, is it?" Her question was punctuated by a languorous up and down movement, below her crossed legs, of a beautifully-turned, dark-stockinged calf.

"No, Denise. Lithuania...close by."

"Would you say you're typical of that region? So tall, muscular, and...handsome?" she asked, forthrightly.

"You're very kind," I said. "All of my advantages are gifts from my father, whom I revered."

"Mmm...a modest brute, aren't you. I like that," she purred, finishing her second drink.

At that moment Carlotta appeared in the doorway and nodded to Denise, and Rachel stood immediately, appearing relieved that her mother's questioning had been interrupted. "Let's eat, shall we?" she said. "Val brought some lovely wine, Mother. Will you be having some with dinner?"

"Just a sip, dear. You know how I love my Cosmopolitans."

When seated, I proposed a toast...to Rachel, who sat across from me, with Denise at the end of the table. "I was told you had some exciting news. Here's to it!" I said, awkwardly.

"Thank you!" she bubbled, her eyes sparkling. "I've been elected President of our state music teachers' association! I leave for the Pebble Beach Conference Center tomorrow to be installed!"

"Congratulations!" I beamed.

"Yes! Hasn't she turned out stunningly!" said her mother. "When I married her father at age 20 I knew nothing about parenting. I was working my way through business school as a...as an exotic dancer, and chose not to bear children. So, we adopted Rachel as an infant, and weren't we lucky! As she grew up, however, I became ever-so-worried that the local boys would ruin her."

"Oh, Mother, Val doesn't want to hear about my teenage years," said Rachel, blushing slightly.

"No, I'm serious, Val," said Denise, covering my hand with hers and gulping down another stemmed glass full before setting the glass down for her daughter to refill from the cocktail pitcher. "Even in this supposedly upper class community. I remember when she was a junior in high school. With her gorgeous young body, she was a varsity cheerleader. One afternoon I went to pick her up and there she was in the parking lot, leaning back against some...someLatin-looking boy, with another, taller, black thug with his hands all over her...sandwiching her against his dirty little friend."

"Mother, it wasn't quite as lurid as all that!" objected Rachel, as the salad course arrived.

"Well, Val, I was furious! I screamed at those boys to leave her alone and, the next day, pulled her out of that school after convincing the Principal that he might lose his job. Rachel spent her senior year at the all girls' school down the road. Later, we hired a driver to take her to all of her classes at the university."

"Well, your concerns seem not to have damaged her in any way," I said, winking at Rachel across the table, stimulating a relieved smile.

"Of course, Val, your children are out of the house, and I understand you've lived here only eight years, but underneath its respectable veneer, this little village is a hypocritical mixture of snobbery, greed and duplicitous pandering," Denise ranted. "That's why we left the country club."

"Oh, Mother...," sighed Rachel from across the table, as Carlotta served the main course, which we finished rather quickly as Denise regaled us withherbrand of gossip about community leaders.

"Let's have dessert in the music room," said Denise. "Rachel can play maybe a waltz or two for us. Do you dance, Val? I haven't danced in the longest time!" she slurred, clearly showing the effects of her cocktails.

Dancing is not my greatest strength, though I can negotiate a waltz. It hardly mattered, though, since Denise nearly took the lead. When we came together, I was astounded at the firmness of her body. She seemed to have no fat anywhere. Her back muscles were like bands of iron and her dancing pose was a showy one I'd not experienced firsthand. She draped her left arm straight over my right shoulder and pressed her crotch firmly to my groin, as if we were hinged together at the hips. Our other hands were linked in the conventional manner but, as we twirled to Rachel's first waltz, Denise reached both of our hands down to grasp her full skirt and lift it high as we twirled, accentuating her lovely legs. At the end of the second waltz my member was half-erect, which my partner noticed.

"Perhaps I'll sit out the next one," I murmured, and led her to a sofa to sit.

"You're a good dancer!" she exclaimed, her eyes dropping to my swollen crotch. "With a little practice you could be excellent!"

"Dessert?" Rachel asked, breaking her mother's flirtation.

"Oh, I think I'll pass, dear," she said, as she fanned herself. "I've gotten a bit warm and should probably leave you two alone to say goodnight. Will you bring my medications when you're finished and...maybe...give me a foot massage?"

"Of course, Mother."

"It's been a pleasure meeting and talking with you, Val. We must do it again," said Denise, as she floated from the room. "Thank you for the lovely corsage. Good night."

"Good night, Denise," I answered, as Rachel grabbed my hand and led me outside through the French doors. "Medications? Foot massage?" I asked, not really ready to leave.

"Zestryl for her high blood pressure, Vicodin and other painkillers for neuropathic pain in her feet. Her drinking doesn't help," said Rachel, as she dragged me into the shadows and breathed her honey-like breath in my face.

"I'll miss you for the next two days, Val. I get back late Friday night and I'll have a surprise for you Saturday morning. We have just a few minutes before I tend to Denise, so... ." She grabbed my hands and pressed them to her breasts, then moved them quickly to her hips. "Please touch me...all over, Val. I want you so much!" She then almost leapt into my arms, crushing her lips against mine and probing my mouth deeply with her tongue. One of my hands was at the small of her back and the other had gone to her vulva, soft and hot under her tight dress. "Yes!...Yes! There, please," she gasped as she ground her mound against my hand. We undulated against one another for a couple of minutes, moaning softly as our tongues danced wetly. Then she came softly, shivering as a small orgasm wracked her. She mewled in her throat as the moments passed, then cooed, "Ooohhh, Gawwd, I'll dream about you in bed 'til I see you again!"

"Rachel!" we heard Denise call from her bedroom, and her daughter was soon off to do her duty. As I drove home I found it hard to fathom the depths of their relationship, and how Rachel could allow herself to be so dominated.

Part 2

I languished naked in the pool the next morning, missing Rachel already, but glowing from her attention the night before. For lack of anything better to do, I took some cleaning supplies out to the end of the driveway to polish the brass mailbox mounted in a stone pylon at the entry. As I worked, Denise drove up in her red Mercedes 560 coupe with the top down. She looked ravishing, dressed in a white, pleated, miniskirt and a cropped linen top held up by spaghetti straps that showed her toned, tan midriff, upper breasts, shoulders and arms. Her auburn tresses were kept in place with a white stretchy headband. She looked like a luscious, rich suburban women of about 25, which was only about 20 plus years off the mark.

"Well, good morning, neighbor!" she called, brightly. "You look even better without a shirt!"

Per usual, I was bare to the waist. "Good morning, lovely lady! I want to thank you again for the good company and delicious meal last night!"

"My pleasure, Val. But, now that Rachel is gone for a couple of days, might I talk with you about her? You mustknowI'm very nosey where my daughter is concerned."

I'd placed my hand atop her windshield and was looking down at her seated behind the wheel, her eyes hidden behind red-colored sunglasses. Her shapely, muscular legs were spread six inches apart at the knees and she slowly drew back her right leg, causing her miniskirt to slide nearly to her crotch. I tried not to look, but was mesmerized by the sight of her vulva barely covered by a pair of the briefest, white lace, bikini panties I'd ever seen. Her leg lolled slowly back and forth, nearly hypnotizing me, until I realized she'd said something more.

"Huh? 'Scuse me. My mind was somewhere else."

"I gatheredthat. I asked if you'd like to come by for a swim this afternoon. I have some errands to do in the village now, but should be free after lunch...about 1:30?"

"That's fine, Denise. A swim? I'll bring my trunks," I said.

"You do that, big fella," she said, just before stabbing the accelerator and spraying me with a few bits of gravel. As she drove away she waggled her fingers in a wave.

Out of habit, I never visit a person without bearing a gift. So, before slipping on my swim trunks with a pair of slacks over them and a Hawaiian shirt, I cut a couple of two-foot-long sprays of rare, miniature orchids for Denise. I parked next to her Mercedes, which she'd left out of her garage, and rang the bell, wondering how she was going to intrude into my friendship with her daughter.

The door opened and, instead of Carlotta, Denise welcomed me in, her face wreathed in a stunning smile. "Hope I'm not too early," I said. It was 1:25.

"Of course not, silly. In this house, you can never come too early," she grinned. I hoped her statement was just a figure of speech. "What are these?" she gushed, eyeing the orchids. "Val! You shouldn't have! Let's put them here and we'll tend to them later!" She turned and walked into the dining room, showing her luscious, bare, tanned legs that seemed to go on forever from a pair of backless, orange high-heels. Her top was an orange silk lounging jacket that tied at the waist with a sash, revealing a plunging neckline under which her breasts were suspended by a spaghetti-strap bikini top. "Want a drink?" she asked. "Rachel was so sweet, mixing and chilling a gallon of my cocktails before she left this morning. I was just going to have one."

"It's a bit early for me," I countered, "but...I'll have a beer, if it's cold."

"Of course! I was about to get some sun. Join me?" she asked, licking her orange-glossed lips.

Minutes later we were on the pool deck, with Denise sipping her cocktail. "What's in a Cosmopolitan, anyway?" I asked.

"You take that seat," she said, momentarily ignoring my question and pointing to a redwood chaise on which I laid with my beer. "Oh...vodka, lime juice,Cointreauand cranberry juice. I'll sit in this chair so I can get to my drink. Anyway, cranberry juice...for my Vitamin C!" she beamed. "Rachel makes the best ones. It's like a lot of things in life, Val. Mmmm, especially like masturbation," she grinned devilishly. "It's always good...but it'smuchbetter when someone else does it!" She sat, took another sip, and untied the sash to her jacket, which fell open to reveal her tanned breasts. I felt a glandular stab as they thrust solidly, arrogantly, out to my gaze.

I nearly drooled as she inhaled before a sigh, and my eyes panned downward to her stomach, stretched as tautly as a drumhead between her hips. She reached for her glass once again and I swear that the muscles in her tight tummy skin quivered, once again causing a palpable zap of feeling in my groin.

"You wanted to talk...about Rachel?" I nearly stuttered.

"Oh. Yes. Well, Val, I wondered what your intentions were regarding my daughter." As she said this, she stood and removed her jacket, turned, and draped it over the back of her chair. As she leaned away from me, I was faced from my reclining position with one of the most exquisite asses I'd ever seen. From her narrow waist, Denise's hips and buttocks flared into two muscular tanned globes that were clothed only in an orange thong matching her bikini top. The string down her crack broke into two slim strands of material that gathered at each hip. I'd never experienced a woman so openly flaunting her body as at that moment. Then she turned to face me.

"My...intentions...are to keep her as a good friend," I stuttered, taking an over-large sip of beer, which splashed onto my chest. My eyes were now locked onto Denise's prominent mound, which was barely covered by a diamond-shaped piece of cloth no larger than four postage stamps. At the top point of the diamond was a string that merged at her hips with another string pulling the side points of the diamond sideways, thus covering her slit. The base point of the diamond was attached to the strip of material running between her legs, up her crack, to the waist string above her ass.

"Mmmm-hmmm," she responded, getting up to place one bare foot on the edge of the chaise where I was reclined. She reached behind herself and got a tube of something cream-colored that she squeezed onto her palm and began rubbing it onto her leg, beginning between her toes and working up to her thigh. As she began this with her other leg, she asked, "Don't you think you're a bit old for her? Do you have a woman friend? What do you do for sex?"

I was nonplussed by her questions. "I haven't had sex since my wife was alive," I finally confessed, sounding as naïve and straight as I truly am. "And no, we're just friends...making music, swimming, walking the dog."

"Mmmm-hmmm, sounds unnatural," she muttered again, now coating her upper thighs with whatever lotion she was applying. When she got to her crotch, her index fingers slipped under her thong just before her hands moved behind to coat her buttocks with the liquid. "I love this. It's a sun block, but it's strawberry-flavored. Here. Taste it!" She stuck a moist finger between my lips to savor it. There was a slight hint of musk, at which point I had to rise to a sitting position, since my cock had hardened to the point of being obvious.

"So, you're telling me that your relationship with Rachel is purely Platonic, regardless of her obvious feelings for you...and your more-than-evident virile capacities?" She sat down in her chair, which brought our knees almost together.

"That's what I'm saying." I believed it, kind of. She didn't.

"Well, big guy," she murmured, "You're much too young to live like a monk. I'm willing to help in any way I can," she continued, still caressing her muscular thighs. "Let me be more clear." She placed her feet on the chaise on either side of my knees and squeezed more strawberry goo onto one finger. I could see the recess between her labia absorbing the diamond-shaped material covering her crotch. My eyes then jumped to her hands as she reached under her bikini top and rubbed the balm onto one nipple, which responded stiffly through her top immediately, then she did the same with the other. "I don't want to see my darling daughter tie herself down as a trophy for an older man, like I did. She doesn't have thestuffthat I had to get beyond it. I'm willing to take her place. D'you understand?"

"I hear what you're saying...I'm flattered, but I take some offense."

"Methinks the gentleman protests too much," she chortled. She dropped her feet and stood suddenly, taking a quarter turn away from me. "I know you find me attractive, Val." She squeezed more lotion onto her index finger so that it dripped obscenely down it, pulled her G string from her ass, and slowly coated what I assumed was her rectum. "Don't you!" she said, a bit aggressively.

I did. In a flash I knew that I wanted to fuck this sexually powerful woman. Seated back in her chair with her feet once again propped outside my knees, she squeezed out another dollop of strawberry balm and, looking me in the eyes with her lips parted invitingly, slowly pulled her bikini bottom away from her vulva with her other hand and coated her mound with it. Groping for words, I muttered, "Yes I do find you attractive, uncomfortably so." Casting about for something else to say, I uttered, "You invited me for a swim this afternoon, but I already had one this morning. I don't think I feel like one right now."

"Oh, don't worry, darling. There's lottsa time to swim! I have an idea! Let's go find a vase for your orchids and a place to put them while you consider my...proposition! C'mon!" she giggled, breaking the mood as she grabbed my hand and tripped into the house. "Up there! Carlotta keeps vases on the top shelf of that pantry. Here's one of her little stepladders!" said Denise. On a high shelf in the cabinet was a perfect tall vase for the two sprays of orchids. I climbed up, grabbed it, and turned to give it to Denise, whose hand had already stroked my bare thigh and was now caressing my clothed, excited groin.

"Uhh, Denise. At the risk of being a prude, I don't think we should be doing this."