The Swallow

"Hello ducky!" said a smiling face appearing round the bathroom door.

"Whoooo the fuck are you?!" yelled Rachel as she sprung up, sending water cascading over the side of her bath. Not one to swear normally, the sudden invasion of her privacy as she lay in her bath close to an orgasm took Rachel by surprise, to say the least!

The smiling face was joined by its owner and the complete ensemble seated itself on a stool next to the bath.

"Lilian Pinkerton they call me, or Lily the Pink to my friends; pleased to meet ya, I'm sure." said the intruder, poking out a hand for a shake.

Lily was a bubbly twenty eight year old blue-eyed peroxide blonde Cockney. Standing at just four foot eleven inches tall, the shapely pocket-rocket had a 36-26-36 figure with firm, gravity-defying 32D bell shaped breasts. She wore her locks pinned up in the poodle cut hairdo style made popular by Lucille Ball.

Lily lived in the apartment opposite Rachel's and was also on the books at Tout Pour Plaire. She had been sent by Celeste Balin to check that Rachel was ok. Lily's infectiously cheerful personality endeared her to Rachel and the two girls instantly became friends.

Rachel signalled that her bathing was over, but Lily didn't take the hint and remained in the bathroom as her new friend stepped from of the water.

Rachel towelled herself dry, put on her robe and relocated to her bedroom. Lily, not easily shaken off, trotted along behind her and reclined on the bed, watching her neighbour intently. Rachel sat at her dressing table; her hairbrush now being used for its intended purpose.

Lily cleared her throat, "Ahem." and said, "I couldn't help noticing what you were doing when I came into your bathroom earlier. I could help you with that if you like deary."

Lily was wearing a short skirt that had ridden up a little, revealing her stocking tops and suspenders. Her blouse was unbuttoned to the waist, displaying her half-cup bra. Lily's plunging milky white cleavage resembled two abutting Alpine ski slopes. Rachel had been secretly staring at Lily's cleavage reflected in the dressing table mirror as she brushed her hair.

Rachel had had numerous crushes on women over the years and she liked to look at the scantily clad girls in lingerie catalogues when masturbating. She had not, however, ever dared to act out on her sexual attraction toward women.

"What do you mean help me?" asked Rachel.

Lily didn't answer. Instead, she kicked off her shoes, walked over to Rachel and began massaging her new friend's shoulders from behind. "Don't be shy ducky," breathed Lily into Rachel's right ear, "let me relax you."

Lily's fingers gently kneaded Rachel's head, neck and shoulders. Rachel could feel Lily's breasts pressing on her back and she caught wafts of Chanel Number 5 as it vaporised off Lily's skin. Rachel felt her pussy getting wet again.

Lily's hands then slipped forward over Rachel's shoulders and descended into her robe. Rachel drew breath as she felt Lily's warm hands cup her breasts.

Lily planted soft kisses on the nape of Rachel's neck and began nibbling her right ear lobe. Lily's tongue then probed the crevices of Rachel's ear, while she gently twisted Rachel's nipples between her thumbs and index fingers.

"You have lovely nipples Rachel; please may I suck them?" whispered Lily in a sultry voice.

Rachel was by now more than ready to yield to the long suppressed desire to make love with a woman. Lily was so adorable; she would be the perfect lover with whom to undergo the initiation. Besides, Rachel had been cheated out of an orgasm a little earlier by this blonde haired minx and Rachael's body was still on edge, craving release.

Rachel turned to face Lily, allowed her robe to fall off her shoulders and presented her breasts. "Be my guest." she said.

Lily knelt on the floor between Rachel's legs and began fondling, kissing, licking and sucking Rachel's breasts.

"That feels good Lily," gasped Rachel, "what else can you do to 'help me'?"

Lily stood and undressed. No words were spoken by the two women as they readied themselves for sex: they stared intently into each other's eyes; their pupils were dilated and their countenances were deadly serious. That was communication enough.

Lily guided Rachel to the bed and came alongside her. Rachel's head rested on a pillow as Lily, propping herself on her left elbow, smiled down at her. Their mouths met and they kissed passionately, their tongues mingling. Lily glided the finger nails of her right hand over Rachel's warm skin; tracing a path from her face, down her neck, over the curves of her breasts, across her tummy and finally to Rachel's swollen vulva.

Lily noted the urgency signalled by Rachel's rapid panting. This was not an occasion for lingering foreplay: Rachel needed an orgasm and needed it quickly.

Lily's fingers explored inside her lover's wet vagina and then, with her now well lubricated fingers, set about stroking Rachel's pussy. Rachel's pubic hair was trimmed into a neat fringe, leaving her labia and clitoral hood exposed. Lily's fingers traced circuits around Rachel's pussy, while her mouth and tongue concentrated on sucking and licking Rachel's nipples.

Rachel's climax came from deep within her core. As she came, Rachel pressed Lily's hand to her pubic mound and pushed two of Lily's fingers deep into her vagina. The orgasm sent waves of warmth throughout Rachel's body. The warm feeling dissipated very gradually, like the fading of a note that follows the undamped striking of a piano key. Time stood still for Rachel, whilst she immersed herself in the state of carnal bliss that Lily had so selflessly gifted to her.

They kissed and embraced. "Lily," said Rachel "this was my first time with a girl. Thank you, it was lovely."

The lesbian fantasies Rachel had played out in her mind over many years now became a reality. She kissed her way over Lily's body until her mouth met Lily's shaved pussy. She lapped at Lily's petal-like labia. Inserting two fingers into Lily's vagina, she masturbated her lover's inner sex while suckling gently on Lily's clitoris.

Lily's moaning became more ardent and her breathing more urgent until her back arched, her fingers clenched and she cried out in a high-pitched wail, "Yes, fuck yes; yes; yes!" Lily fell silent and her body trembled as an intense orgasm gripped her.

The girls dozed in each other's arms, before Lily sat up and exclaimed, "Sex always makes me hungry and I'm bleedin' starvin'!"

Lily and Rachel enjoyed a meal of baked beans on toast. Just as they were finishing, Rachel's 'phone rang. Picking up the receiver, she heard a familiar voice:

"Celeste Balin calling from Tout Pour Plaire. Stopover sex party; 8 p.m. Saturday 20th September. Lord Colfax's place, Colfax Hall, Tillingden, Kent. Thirty pound fee for each girl. Don't be late mon cheri, au revoir."

Thirty pounds was a sizeable sum in 1952, worth over one thousand pounds today.

Rachel and Lily 'phoned around and discovered that all twenty girls from Tout Pour Plaire had been booked for the event. Another twenty or so girls and a dozen rent boys from other agencies had been booked too. It was going to be some sex party.

Friday 19th September 1952, London's West End

Rachel spent the day shopping in Harrods, Harvey Nichols and in the luxury boutiques in Knightsbridge and Mayfair. She had been given access to MI5's expense accounts and was determined to use them mercilessly. Rachel stocked up on everything she imagined a tart would have in her wardrobe. She bought sexy skirts and dresses, stiletto-heeled shoes, seamed stockings and silk underwear. She purchased see-through blouses and skimpy negligees that left little to the imagination. "I'm going to make the bastards pay for this!" thought Rachel, as she bought expensive perfume at the Penhaligon's outlet in the Burlington Arcade.

That evening Rachel received a 'phone call from her controller, Giles Barrington-Hill. He informed her that invitations to the Colfax Hall party had been sent to Dimitri Topolski and Mae-Ling Zan and that they had both accepted. He reminded Rachel that Operation Hurricane was two weeks away and that she had to work fast. She must make contact with both targets at the party on Saturday.

Saturday 20th September 1952, Colfax Hall, Tillingden, Kent

Rachel and Lily took a taxi to Victoria Station and boarded a late afternoon train to Tillingden. Several other girls from Tout Pour Plaire were using the same train, so the party began before they had even arrived.

Lord Colfax's black and grey Rolls Royce Silver Wraith awaited them at Tillingden station. The uniformed chauffeur ferried the girls in batches to Colfax Hall; just a short hop from the station.

Rachel and Lily entered the grounds in time to explore the building and gardens.

Colfax Hall was a large 17th-century manor house with a range of reception rooms on the ground floor and numerous bedrooms spread over the two upper floors. The servants had dormer bedrooms and the kitchens and other facilities were in the basement. An orangery stood at the south-facing east end of the house and an indoor heated swimming pool had been recently added to the west end. The manor and its extensive grounds were well maintained by the immensely wealthy Lord Colfax, the latest in a long line of banking magnates. A fifty year old extrovert gay man with a penchant for flamboyant waistcoats, Lord Colfax threw several sex parties throughout the year, mainly for embassy officials. He saw it as his contribution toward world peace!

Guests began to arrive at 8 p.m. The gathering of diplomats, ambassadors and embassy officials could have been mistaken for an assembly of the United Nations. Every continent was represented.

The Tout Pour Plaire girls and those from other agencies acted as hostesses. The rent boys, dressed as footmen, made sure that drinks were served aplenty. Colfax Hall started to come alive, as if awakening from a slumber.

Rachel recognised Dimitri Topolski from the photographs she had seen during the Aldermaston briefing. Topolski was a thickset muscular man, standing at five foot nine inches tall. He had a stern-looking face and a very thick thatch of greying hair. His bushy eyebrows sat above piercing sapphire blue eyes. He wore a moustache, which gave him a passing resemblance to his hero, Joseph Stalin.

Topolski was propping himself up at a mantelpiece, chatting to two stunningly attractive blondes from Tout Pour Plaire. The night was young, but he was already well on the way to being drunk. Topolski's MI5 profile marked him as a dipsomaniac and Rachel realised that she had to make contact before the man became incapable.

She approached Topolski as though he were her lover, throwing her arms about him, kissing him passionately on the lips and pressing her body against his. She did this to make her mark, as it was vital that he should remember her when he sobered up the next morning. She cupped his groin with one hand, as she placed her Tout Pour Plaire business card in his jacket pocket with the other. "Phone me darling, and don't leave it too long." said Rachel.

Topolski evidently enjoyed the encounter. He looked at Rachel's business card and placed it safely in his wallet. She put another card in his jacket pocket, just in case. The two blondes then led Topolski by his hands up the stairs. One girl was clutching a numbered disc; that being the system for allocating bedrooms during the sex party.

The party was now well underway. The rooms were filled with music, voices and laughter. Lord Colfax wafted amongst the guests, making sure everyone was happy, and in search of happiness for himself. Although there were plenty of bedrooms, some guests were having fun downstairs in full view of others. Three men were being fellated in the orangery, two by call girls and one by a rent boy; a game of strip poker was underway in the library and a rent boy, with his footman's trousers around his ankles, was being buggered on the billiard table by the Maduporean chargé d'affaires.

Rachel found her way to the indoor swimming pool where she relaxed on a deckchair sipping a Dubonnet and lemonade. She watched as men and women frolicked about in the water. Needless to say, all were naked.

"Lily the Pink," called out Rachel, spying her neighbour splashing about in the pool, "I knew I would find you at the heart of the action!"

"Come in; its lovely." called the ever-smiling Lily.

Rachel undressed, there being no place for shyness here, and stepped down into the pool. The tepid water caressed her skin and her nipples stiffened. Lily swam over to join Rachel. They kissed each other on the lips, their glistening breasts pressing against each other.

Two very tall, well-built African men came along side. Rachel had never seen a naked black man before. The Africans were not less than six feet six inches tall, very muscular and, as legend would have it, extremely well endowed. The men, Abebe and Salana, officials from the Burandian embassy, challenged each other to a piggyback race. Salana picked up Lily and put her over his shoulders. Her thighs gripped his neck, her legs dangling over his chest, and her breasts rested on his head as she leaned forward. Abebe placed Rachel over his head; his powerful arms lifting her out of the water as if she were a doll. The ebony skin of the men intertwined with the white skin of the girls juxtaposed like the countervailing facets of yin and yang.

The two men set off, wading through the water like Poseidon and Neptune striding effortlessly through the oceans. Lily and her mount reached the far side first. Rachel and her steed protested that cheating must have taken place. The piggyback race ended in peals of laughter.

Lily saw an old friend and swam off, leaving Rachel alone with Abebe and Salana.

"Come with us miss, we would like to play another game." said Abebe. Rachel did not protest, despite the blatant sexual innuendo in the man's invitation. Her instructions were to be a whore, and a whore she would be.

They put on thick woollen dressing gowns and slippers and stepped out into the chilled night air. It was the coldest September in Britain since 1807.

They traversed the lawn and entered a summerhouse by a lake. The interior was lit by a single naked light bulb and a log fire was blazing in the grate, spreading warmth through the room. A table covered with a blanket and cushions stood in the centre of the floor. The room had evidently been made ready.

Salana removed Rachel's robe and she kicked off her slippers. He lifted Rachel onto the table and guided her onto all fours. Abebe stood before her face; his penis erect and glistening with pre-cum. Rachel needed no instruction. She took the thick black rod into her mouth and began lapping his glans and flicking her tongue over his frenulum, just as her professor at Oxford had taught her. She steadied herself with one hand, while her free hand stroked Abebe's shaft and balls.

Meanwhile, Salana approached Rachel from behind and grasped her hips. She felt her labia separating as his glans probed her opening. Her vagina stretched as Salana's huge phallus entered her, bringing sensations at the very margins of pain and pleasure.

It was difficult for Rachel to concentrate as she felt the frenzied thrusts of one cock pounding into her cunt whilst the other cock lunged deep into her throat. She felt wave after wave of pleasure. She was being spit roasted by two massive cocks and she loved it.

The men were evidently having another competition. Not an aquatic piggyback race this time, but a sprint to be the first to ejaculate into this pale-skinned beauty.

Mouth man came first, cunt man followed a few seconds later.

Both men stood back to admire their handy work. Rachel remained on all fours, panting hard, head held back, as semen dribbled from her mouth and over her chin; and from her pussy, down the insides of her legs to her knees.

The trio put on their robes and the men gently returned Rachel to her feet. Rachel's knees buckled under her, so the men placed her between them, draping her arms over their shoulders, and carried her back to the manor. Salana and Abebe kissed Rachel's hands and thanked her most politely for, "... a very nice time." before wandering off in search of a new conquest. Rachel returned to the swimming pool to rinse away their semen and to regain her composure. She couldn't resist masturbating herself to another orgasm as she mentally relived what had been the most raw, animalistic sexual experience of her life

Rachel dried herself off, dressed and took a walk through the house.

There was still plenty of activity going on, but standing alone in a side room was the unmistakable five foot one inch tall figure of Mae-Ling Zan. Rachel entered the room and observed that her second target was studying a huge landscape painting.

Approaching Mae-Ling from behind, Rachel said, "It's a Gainsborough isn't it?"

Mae-Ling spun around like a startled rabbit. "Yes it is, and an exceptionally fine one at that." she said.

Rachel had merely stabbed a guess at the artist and had struck lucky. All that mattered, though, was she had made contact with her second target.

The two women stood side-by-side discussing the artwork. Mae-Ling was evidently an expert on Gainsborough and they discussed the oil painting in some detail.

Rachel began to feel sorry for Mae-Ling. It was clear that the Chinese girl was not enjoying the party and she appeared to be lonely. Rachel made a special effort to be kind and they chatted away for some time.

Rachel then made her move. "Why don't we meet at the National Gallery sometime soon and you can give me a tour of their Gainsborough collection?"

Mae-Ling's face lit up into a beaming smile. "Oh, I would love to do that; are you free on Monday?"

They agreed to meet at 1.30 p.m. on Monday 22nd by Nelson's Column, Trafalgar Square. Rachel gave Mae-Ling her Tout Pour Plaire business card, but thought to herself, "This one is on the house."

It was getting late. Rachel ate some food from the generous buffet and headed up the stairs in search of the dormer bedroom she was sharing with Lily.

On reaching the landing, Rachel gained a birds-eye view of the lobby below. Looking over the banister she observed eight naked men standing in a circle, each with a naked girl kneeling at his feet. The men faced into the circle and the kneeling girls were busily masturbating and fellating them. A naked woman was seated on a low chair in the centre of the circle. As each man climaxed, he stepped forward and shot his cum over the older woman's face. Torrent after torrent of milky white semen splattered over her face and hair. Globules of cum dribbled off her chin and onto her breasts. The woman's face glistened and her hair became matted.

"Holy fuck, it's Gladys Frost!" gasped Rachel. And indeed it was.

The stern matriarch of the MI5 translation pool was smiling gleefully and screaming, "Give me your cum, give it to me, I am your dirty fucking cum whore!"

"Good for you," thought Rachel, smiling; "you are human after all."

Sunday 21st September 1952, Colfax Hall, Tillingden, Kent

Rachel woke at daybreak to find Lily cuddled up by her side.

Lilly was naked, as was Rachel.

Rachel kissed Lily into wakefulness.

They chatted about their exploits of the night before. Rachel told Lily about her introduction to Black Rod; a term she jokingly borrowed from the Parliamentary lexicon. Lily had, she explained, played a game of spin the bottle with group of men and women and that she and two other girls ended up bedding Frederico Martinez, the San Serriffian ambassador. "For a sixty year old, he couldn't half keep 'is pecker up." laughed Lily.