She Goes Both Ways Ch. 03

There was one reason for that, the very real, some said inevitable, prospect of war! The consensus of opinion was that if the country lawyer from Illinois won the Republican nomination next year, then all hell, including war, would break out. Lincoln had very publicly stated and, to a large extent was basing his campaign upon stopping the expansion of slavery particularly with new states joining the Union. This was where the South and he and by association the North were on a collision course and it was that, many believed which would propel the country into a civil war

The thought struck dread into both Amanda and Adam's hearts.

Right now, in Oliver Strand's huge office, Amanda could feel her heart racing. This had been the one engagement that she'd been dreading, and her instincts had not been wrong. It had not taken long to travel to his house, just outside the city on a hill overlooking the Potomac.

She had purposefully dressed demurely in a high fronted, dark blue dress with white piping. The silk bodice had a row of small, white bone buttons running between her breasts from her waist to just under her chin. The tightness of the bodice and the row of buttons accentuated both the fullness of her breasts and the voluptuousness of her figure. As Strand saw her he gulped and his pulse began to race although Amanda didn't witness either for she was struggling with her own nerves.

Being slightly drunk from an earlier lunch, the man was in a very amorous mood. His reassurances that he could help with the sale of the plantation came second to the compliments he showered on Amanda. Keeping him sweet, while avoiding his attempts to paw her, was a delicate operation.

"Obviously, Miss Amanda," he leered. "Your goodwill will be necessary to get the highest price."

She ignored the implication. "And where sir, do you believe we will get the highest price from?"

"Buyers in the north and from overseas" he said without hesitation, waving his hand in the air.

"What?" This was contrary to his explanation at the ball. "I thought you said State law prevented those people from buying plantations."

"And so it does," Strand said with a smirk. He stood up and walked behind Amanda.

She shuffled uncomfortably on the low, wide backed armless chair made specifically for women wearing full hoops in front of his huge desk.

"So how do we sell to those buyers?"

"By using Federal law, which overrides Georgian law" he panted, no more than a step away.

"And that I assume, Mister Strand is difficult to organise?" she asked nervously wondering what to expect from the out of sight man. Should she turn in the chair to face him? No, that would only indicate her nervousness.

Looking down on the woman who he had now decided that without doubt he would bed, whatever it took, he felt himself hardening. He fiddled with himself releasing his manhood from the restrictions of his long johns and allowing its respectable length and impressive girth to rear up his pudgy stomach inside the grey pin-striped trousers.

"Yes Miss Amanda" he murmured quietly, as he rested his hands on her shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh through the high neckline. "It's extremely difficult. It requires extensive and influential contacts and it needs goodwill from, and a close working relationship between all parties."

"I see," Amanda muttered, knowing how much she needed his help, but unwilling to compromise herself, well not too much, just yet.

She had been in similar situations in England and knew full well the meaning of his words. She was effectively being asked to trade sex for a favour. Surprisingly, the concept did not offend her the way she thought it might. After all, if she could use her body to get her own way, that gave her the power? She knew that in both London and Washington that was the way of the world, it was how to get the power you didn't have and how to get something you wanted. Smiling she thought 'It's not the oil that makes the wheels of industry turn its women's sexual excretions that does that!' No, the principle of using sex to get what she wanted did not offend her unduly, it was the thought of with whom she would have to use sex that was the issue.

"And if this 'close working relationship' is forthcoming?" she coyly asked, as his fingers dug more deeply into her shoulders.

"Then I am sure something can be arranged," he told her triumphantly, confident he had won the day. "And........" he went on pausing dramatically as he rubbed her collar bones. "It should enhance the purchase price of Selby by at least thirty per cent."

With those final words, his hands slid down her arms in a blatant precursor to attempting to cup her breasts. 'His way of sealing the deal perhaps?' Amanda thought ruefully. But she wasn't willing to allow him that. Not yet, anyway.

"Perhaps, Oliver," she said turning her head and smiling at him over her shoulder as she grabbed his wrists. "We can confirm the arrangement the next time we meet?"

"Indeed," he answered as he reluctantly withdrew his hands. The feisty woman was playing hard to get. He liked that. "For the moment yes madam, for your carriage awaits. But I hope it will not be too long before our terms are.................." he paused before proceeding. "Er...... cemented, shall we say? Or......" adding with a low chuckle after yet another pause "Maybe consummated might be a more apt description. I am a patient man, Amanda, but even patience has its limits."

Despite the sensitivity of the situation and Strand's really quite outrageous behaviour, Amanda could not suppress a small smile, which fortunately she was able to hide with her fan. The manner in which men's behaviour altered and how their personality changed so much during a seduction, never ceased to amaze and amuse her. They were such strange creatures really.

"I understand," she told him, standing up and putting her hand out for him to kiss.

He took her hand. Bending at the waist, he brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it, for rather longer than was necessary. "Remember, the goodwill of the seller is essential and significantly helps the sale of a plantation these days," he emphasised, his eyes holding hers.

"I will bear that in mind," Amanda said, trying to pull her hand from his grip.

The powerful man, however, held it tight as he straightened up so that their faces were on a level, a foot or so apart her hand in his almost touching his chest in the paisley patterned silk waistcoat. He was making his point so that there could be no misunderstanding. When he stared deep into her eyes, Amanda held his gaze, confidently, defiantly perhaps? He liked that!

Feisty women were there to be tamed, and he knew that he would enjoy taming this beauty. Women always came round to his way of thinking in the end, and this one would be no exception!

He moved a little closer to her and, very pointedly, ran his gaze down from her eyes to her breasts and back again.

"I suggest we discuss the matter further on your way back from the north?" he told her. It was more a command than a question.

Still defiantly holding his gaze, while he continued to tightly grip her hand, Amanda replied. "I'm not sure. I hadn't planned to return through Washington."

He was in no mood to be trifled with. "For the sale of the plantation, I think it would be highly beneficial for you to reconsider," he told her. "There are some people I want you to meet, people who could well be interested in Selby or at least easing its sale. And of course, all the new laws will be in place in Georgia by then............"

His voice trailed off, as if defying her to refuse the invitation. Amanda had more sense. This was her best opportunity to dispose of the estate, and she could not allow it to pass her by. Whatever that meant for her and Oliver Strand, then so be it.

"Then, of course, Misterr Strand. I will meet with you and them on my return journey. It will probably be around June fifteen. Will that suit?"

"That will be perfect Miss Amanda," he answered, curling his lips in a triumphant smile as he finally released her hand. "I look forward to er...................... getting to know you better."

His words ran through Amanda, sending a chill up her spine and, unexpectedly, a tingle in her loins. Then he was closing the gap between them and taking her into his arms. She accepted his kiss on her cheek, but turned her face when he attempted to kiss her lips.

He smiled, his eyes telling her that if she was to get what she wanted, it was only a matter of time. Amanda felt herself blush as she mumbled, "Until July, then, Mr Strand."

"Please, call me Oliver," he murmured, his eyes flicking across her body one final time. "And yes, until mid-July, goodnight Amanda."

As she wafted through the doorway, which was hardly wide enough for her crinoline skirt, she replied, pointedly. "Goodnight again Mister Strand."

***

New York was fabulous. Everything about it was marvellous. The new buildings going up everywhere, the frantic atmosphere, the crowds, the shops, the theatre, the restaurants and even the weather. But what made it extra special for the brother and sister though, was the sex. They both had old flames there, which they rekindled.

The first few days were taken up with meetings with bankers, investment houses, shipping agents, cotton buyers and various merchants. They had endless meetings, both at the other parties' offices and at their hotel with working lunches and dinners.

Amanda had to deal with not only plantation business, but also her own considerable investments. The 'winnings' that Samuel had given her in the early days of their marriage had grown considerably. The estate in Datchet, near to Queen Victoria's favourite home, Windsor Castle, had finally been sold and the Piccadilly town house had been rented out on very good terms. Her railway investments and her Californian land purchases were starting to show some growth and a recent valuation of the jewellery she had bought, most of which was in safe-keeping in London, had shown an almost doubling in value.

Although she was, she now realised, a very wealthy woman she had been forced to use a goodly part of her wealth as collateral for the huge and increasing loan that was necessary to keep the plantation functioning effectively; another reason for the sale. In addition the recession that was spreading through the country and Europe was reducing the value of many of her assets meaning that each month a greater proportion of them had to be pledged to maintain the level of guarantee required by the greedy banks.

Unfortunately, Adam was far from wealthy and could be of no assistance in guaranteeing the bank loans. His art gallery in New York was barely managing to survive, while most of his other investments were also losing money. That meant that, in addition to dealing with her own affairs and those of Selby Bluff, Amanda had to attend to Adam's as well.

Their third day in New York had ended over dinner, where some people in the art world, well aware of the relative failure of Adam's gallery had offered to 'take it off his hands' for a trifling amount. Now, back at their hotel, in Amanda's suite, they were sipping brandies and discussing events.

"I'm just hopeless with money and business," Adam confided, taking a long drink and shaking his head.

Amanda smiled in sympathy. "Well you know what they say, brother? Unlucky with money..................." she said pausing meaningfully.

He gave a rueful smile, turning towards her as they stood looking out the window over the Hudson River. "I'm not lucky in love, though either, am I?"

"Nor am I," Amanda admitted. "Two misfits aren't we really?"

Their eyes met, speaking volumes as their thoughts returned to their late teens; it was unavoidable.

"Yes, I suppose we are," Adam slowly said. "You don't have anyone, do you Amanda?"

"No, and you Adam?"

"I just don't know."

Amanda gave a slight start. It wasn't the answer she had expected. "What do you mean?" she asked, with a frown. "You have someone and you aren't sure?"

For a moment, her brother's gaze turned blank. "In a way, yes."

"Who, if I may be so bold?"

"It's not quite like that," he told her uncertainly.

Amanda's frown deepened. Her brother was talking in riddles. "I don't understand you, Adam."

"That's not surprising," he sighed, turning to look out across the Hudson again. "At times, I don't understand myself."

Amanda's frown turned into a soft smile. "Oh Adam again we are so similar, you and I. There are times I don't understand myself that way."

"It's not that, Amanda," Adam blurted out, turning to look at her again, his eyes full of anguish. "At times, I... I think I am homosexual." "Oh I see," she replied, not that surprised. She'd had her suspicions about Adam and other men.

"And at other times?"

"At other times, dear sister," he responded, feeling that a weight had been lifted with his confession. "At other times, I am comfortable with women."

"Do you have a lover at present?" she asked, adding after a moment's deliberation, "Other than Emilene of course?"

"You know about her?"

Amanda laughed at the shock on his face. She ran a hand through her hair. "Of course I do. Nathan told me what he had planned."

"Hmmm, I see," Adam replied rather pensively. If his sister was aware of Emilene, how much else did she know? "Actually no, Amanda, I don't have another lover."

She nodded, taking a deep sip from her brandy glass. "From what I hear little brother, you probably wouldn't have the time, let alone the energy for any more would you?"

Adam laughed, feeling his cock rise just at the thought of him and the black slave girl together "Well, she does occupy my time quite a bit."

"She's a good lover?"

He nodded. "Actually, Amanda, she is becoming excellent in bed. Clearly she just needed the right man."

Amanda ignored the boastful comment. "But I thought that Nathan had trained her? She wasn't what you expected at first, then?"

"No, Nathan said he had sort of trained her, and he had made her go with some of the other plantation barons, too. But they are all take, no give."

"And you give as well as take, do you?" Amanda smiled, feeling a tinge of excitement to be chatting so intimately with her brother. "You're a considerate lover?"

"Yes," he answered quickly, looking his sister directly in the eye. "I treat her as an equal, not a slave, and it pays."

She nodded, and for a moment neither spoke, each thinking their own thoughts. It was Amanda who broke the brief silence. "Well, I have to say Adam, she has a great figure."

"She certainly has," he responded proudly, but then found his eyes running across his sister's body. "But then, so have you Mands," he added boldly.

"Thanks," she said, feeling herself blush at the compliment. "Not that it's made any difference since coming home."

"No secret lover, then?"

"Nope, none," she told him, turning away from the window and gazing vacantly across the room.

Adam saw the sadness in her eyes. "Not the Lieutenant General then?" he asked.

"No" she answered, her voice rising. For a moment, her hand reached across her chest while she composed herself. Why had she spoken so sharply, she wondered? "No, most certainly not Mister Strand."

"Well, I am sure we could fix something if you want," Adam said, reaching to pull his sister's arm so that he could look right into his her eyes.

For a moment, her eyes widened in shock. Surely, he couldn't mean? "Adam! I thought we agreed to forget all that."

He looked surprised. "We did, Amanda. I... I didn't mean me."

"No?" Did she feel relief or disappointment? She found herself wondering.

"Well no I didn't," he murmured, taking advantage of the moment. "But...?"

Amanda stared thoughtfully into his eyes as her brother edged closer to her. His gaze was steady, then slowly and provocatively ran down to her spectacular cleavage, fashionably half uncovered in her evening gown.

"But what Adam?" Amanda asked breathlessly, her mouth going dry as her brother's dark eyes returned to bore into hers. Her whole body was tingling.

"I don't know," he said, jerking his gaze away and draining the rest of his brandy.

It looked as if it was taking all his self-will not to gather her up in his arms. This was wrong, so wrong, and yet it sent a thrill down between her moist thighs.

"Everything is so complicated," he continued, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear the thoughts inside. "What I meant is that I have many friends in New York."

Amanda curled her lip and flounced past him to the middle of the room. "I see," she said, coldly. "And what you're telling me is that as a favour, one of them would give me a good seeing to as I believe you men call it?"

"Yes, well... no, not like that," he mumbled, unsure of exactly what he was trying to say. "I didn't mean it like that, Mandy."

"Really," she snapped, her eyes blazing as she glanced back at her brother. "Well understand this! Whether you meant that either, you Adam or, one of your friends would look after me, forget it. I can arrange who fucks me, thank you very much."

***

That phrase was in Amanda's mind, as she got ready for bed that night. "I can arrange my own sex life, thanks."

Undressing without help was a trial and she was regretting giving the maid the rest of the night off. Milly had pulled the laces of the corset tight when she had dressed Amanda. Undoing them was a fiddly job, as was removing the hoop cage and the voluminous skirt. Preparing herself for bed was a rather lengthy process, giving her too much time to think about her non-existent sex life

With that on her mind, it was not surprising that as she undressed and bathed, she became aroused; that happened more frequently recently. Drying herself before the bedroom mirror, her arousal increased! Damn! She cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples. She so needed a man, and felt pleased that her long wait since the dalliance with Captain Jarvis on the trip from England would end tomorrow when she was meeting Fairfax Lennon, her long term, occasional lover. As she squeezed her sensitive breasts she smiled ruefully as she thought 'What a treat he is in for tomorrow!'

Reading the letter from Jarvis for what must have been the hundredth time the thoughts of him and Fairfax reverberated around her mind as she lay on the bed. Turning onto her front, her hands locked between her legs, the fingers on one pressing her clit, those on the other searching and probing inside her pussy.

As she pleasured herself, images of Fairfax left her and she thought of her brother and his friends. Her arousal increased. Thoughts of her brother's friends floated away into the thin air, replaced by images of her brother only. She began to cum, and when the sensations of her climax crashed over her, she 'saw' to her horror, not Fairfax or Jarvis, but her brother's naked body lying between her widely spreaded thighs fucking her.

Amanda had been on Adam's mind as he caught a taxi carriage up to Third Avenue. She was there as he selected the young man from the line up in the male bordello and stayed there as they went upstairs to one of the de-luxe rooms.

The memory of her body was with him when, for the second time in just over a week, his fully hardened cock sank between a pair of perfectly rounded cheeks. It was ringing in his ears as he pushed himself past the resistance of a sphincter muscle and into the tight confines of an asshole.

But in his mind it wasn't the young male whore, it wasn't the numerous other male and female whores whose back passages he'd invaded and it wasn't even Emilene's deliciously rounded posterior that he was fucking. No in Adam's mind, it was his sister Amanda's ass in which his cock was deeply buried.