Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 03

Part Three of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Chapter Nine is up and running. Be warned, the whole thing is almost 30,000? words long this far.

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

Three French Hens

I overslept. It was almost 9am before I was really awake, and the apartment was dark and quiet. Yawning, I showered, had breakfast, made a few calls, answered a few emails... well, truth is, I pretty much wasted the morning away before I even found Jessica's note.

'Shit...' I read it again, and I knew I hadn't got it wrong the first time. We had multiple visitors to organise for the weekend, starting with a close friend arriving from Ireland. In an hour. Oh, and some people to interview about jobs. Jessica's note spelled it all out to me.

Part of the Jessica plan to take over the universe was that she had invested in this specialised personal services company, which handled everything from cleaning to personal shopping. Everyone in the building had access to this stuff at a really low rate, and I quickly grabbed the phone and called one of the numbers now, which put me through to a limousine/car hire service.

Brad, the guy who looked after the business, talked to me in that slightly superior way of someone who knew I had forgotten to call much earlier. Brad and I didn't get on, but he let Jessica bully him, so he was the perfect guy to handle her account.

Jessica had wanted him to take on a female driver she could have first call on, who would effectively be available to Jessica at all times. Brad smugly told me that three prospects had been available at 11am, but two had left. I didn't bother pointing out to him that he could have called me to remind me. A minute spent in Brad's company is a minute wasted.

'So who's the one left?'

'A blonde girl with big tits,' he remarked. Well, thank you for the resumé, Brad.

'Send her over. I need to collect someone at the airport. I'll interview her on the way, assuming she doesn't get lost.'

He started to whine at me about which cars were available, and insurance, and I told him this was all supposed to be agreed, and hung up, knowing Jessica would rip him a new one once she got home. Where was she anyway'

I threw on some clothes, scared the hell of the cat by slamming the window closed just as she was thinking of coming in (Minx is the only pussy in the building who outranks Jess; there would be complaints from her later), grabbed my keys and went out the door. Down in the vestibule, I kept an eye through the main doors for the silver Saab I had dragged out of Brad. That was when I saw a cute redhead at the door, reading an address from an envelope, with what looked like a dry-cleaning bag over her arm. I didn't recognise her at first, but when I opened the door and asked her if she was OK, it turned out to be Jessica's friend Cat.

Cat and Jessica work together on various projects, most of which I don't ask about. She's a smart one, is Cat, and great at managing people. She is also adorably cute, and today she looked better than ever. Slinky ankle length boots, jeans that fit so snugly I could be 90% sure she had no panties on, and a tight red sweater under a leather jacket.

'Hey, Paul. Where are you going' Aren't I supposed to be helping you?'

'You are' With what?'

'The job interview. For the maid.' Oh, shit... just how many interviews had I forgotten to do. And a maid' Since when had we talked about hiring a maid' Then I laughed to myself; Jessica was having way too much fun with this Twelve Days plan... she knew I had a thing for the whole French Maid look. My girl is just too perfect.

The Saab arrived at that moment. A rather tall blonde woman was at the wheel (I couldn't see her tits, but she parked the car just fine, which was a good sign), and I waved.

'Cat, you'll have to handle it,' I told her.'I have to pick Orla up from the airport and interview this driver.'

'A little late if she has her hands on your car, don't you think?'

'Don't ask. Look, here's the key. Let yourself in, and I'll go with whatever you decide for the maid.'

'OK,' said Cat, taking charge of the situation as I knew she would. She took a look at the blonde woman behind the wheel of the car. I checked my watch, and I knew I had to go. Kissing Cat gratefully and modestly on the cheek, I crossed the pavement. The driver stepped from the Saab and moved to open the rear door. I was delighted to see that Brad had not lied at all about the nice tits, but he had completely forgotten to mention that the woman was tall and had great legs, toned and tanned, which showed very pleasantly under the hem of a mid thigh skirt, part of a uniform which only Jessica could have selected - almost traditional, but sexy as hell. The skirt had slid up her strong, shapely stockinged legs as she slid gracefully from the driver's seat. I hadn't realised we had a dress code for staff, but this was good.

She opened the Saab's rear door as we exchanged hellos. She introduced herself as Tizianna, showing had an accent which I immediately placed as being Italian. Having confirmed with Tizianna that she was free to handle this impromptu job, and that she knew where the airport was (the kind of thing that had foxed one of Brad's drivers before), I jumped into the back seat.

The interview went fine. That is, I think I passed. Tizianna turned out to be a recent arrival from Italy, who was an excellent driver with superb references. She had been recommended to us by Cat, who had met Tizianna at a party. She understood that she would be working for Brad, but that her prime client would be Jessica, who would require her to be available at short notice and for all kinds of tasks. She was happy with the pay and the arrangements, and when I told her it included a room in the ground floor of the building, she was even happier - apparently her current living arrangements were both expensive and unhappy. I didn't ask. She blushed just a little when I asked if she liked the uniform too.

I liked her, and I knew Jessica would be happy having her around. She was a safe driver and a pleasant personality; she had the job before we passed the third set of lights. She was easy on the eye too; though her eyes were hidden behind aviator glasses as she drove, when she removed them as we shook hands, I was struck by her startling blue-green eyes. I was even more impressed by the way that short black skirt rode up each time she swung in and out of the car. Strong, tanned legs in silk stockings. I may have mentioned them already. Trust me, they were great legs.

We chatted comfortably as Tiz ('call me Tiz, it's much easier') brought us into the airport and found the short-stay car park. The two of us went off in search of Orla, a close friend of Jessica and I, who was flying in for a shopping trip from her native Ireland. Well, that is what I had believed before, but now I knew about the Twelve Days, it was hard to believe Orla hadn't volunteered for at least six of them. We found her at Arrivals, and Tiz collected her bags while Orla and I hugged enthusiastically, and I gave her ass a grope that woke up airport security and the sleepy businessmen from her flight.

We walked back to the car, Orla and I arm in arm behind the new driver. Tiz had a graceful glide in her walk that was pure sex; great legs and a firm ass. She had to work out between driving gigs. Orla was virtually licking her lips as we walked to the car.

'Who is she?' hissed Orla, giggling wildly.

'A new driver at that agency Jess uses,' I replied.'I am assuming that she is supposed to be a French Hen or something, you know...' I hummed a few bars of the Christmas song.

'Is that today?' asked Orla, flirting outrageously. She knew; she and Jessica had clearly talked in great detail on the phone about the theme of the next ten days.

'What did you draw?' I asked. Orla almost shrieked with laughter.'Foursome!' she said, so loud that security almost called her back for an intimate body search.'That's why I asked who she was. You think Jess hired her knowing she would be perfect for your present?'

I had had my suspicions, and Orla only made them stronger in my mind.

'I assumed foursome meant you, me, Jessica and Lisa,' Orla said.'After all, if it is a present for you, it could hardly include another guy!'

'Not unless I can take him back to the store and exchange him for a nice sweater,' I grinned.

Orla purred, her eyes on Tiz's ass every step of the way. It made perfect sense for Orla to have chosen Foursome as her card (or for Jessica to have chosen it for her... perhaps this was not an entirely random choice). When we had met her the year before, she had been mildly bi-curious. She, Jessica and I had romped together a few times, and Orla had developed a powerful appetite for sapphic sex, but one that she had never really indulged away from Jessica. A tryst such as that suggested by her card - which Jessica had'randomly drawn' for her, would make quite the Xmas gift for Orla too. That woman of mine thought of everything.

Orla spoke to Tiz as I loaded her luggage into the car. It was a brief, but seemingly intimate conversation, as Orla brushed back a strand of Tiz's blonde hair, and complimented her on her uniform. Tiz blushed. I wondered again if she was in on the project. I couldn't think of any kink of mine that involved a chauffeur... I'm not really a car person. Uniforms do it for me, though.

'Where to now?' she asked.

'Back to the building,' I informed her.'Are you in any hurry, this afternoon, by the way?'

'I'm yours any way you want me,' she replied, in her low, husky, accented voice.

'I think Orla needs a bed, after her long flight,' I suggested.

Tiz licked her lips.'Then that is where we should take her, she replied.

*****

The traffic was a little heavier as we came back into the city. Tiz concentrated on the road. I concentrated on her for a while, having climbed into the front seat to watch her work. The Saab had a stick shift, and it was really quite erotic to watch her work the pedals. Her skirt inched a little higher. Though she rarely even so much as glanced my way, Tiz didn't seem at all uncomfortable with me running my eyes up and down her legs.

In the back seat, things were also getting quite promising. Orla pulled off her coat to reveal a short little mini-dress, worn over black socks to mid-thigh. She lay back in the comfortable seat, sighing contentedly, chattering brightly. This trip had been a long time in the planning; she was clearly happy to be here. Very happy. She stretched out and the skirt rode up to show Orla was wearing tiny black panties. She met my frank glance with a look of pure wickedness, and ran her hands up her body to cup her breasts.

'Sex and shopping,' she murmured.'My kind of holiday.'

There was a blast of a car horn from beside us, where a young guy in bright red overalls was pretty much keeping pace with us in a van. His eyes were not on the road. From his elevated position, he must have been able to see almost as far up Orla's skirt as I could.

Orla had spent too long cooped in an aircraft to be distracted by the proximity of the van, or to be too distracted by the loud hooting - not all of it from the van's equipment. Wrinkling her nose slightly at the crude chorus of the van driver's opinions and encouragement, she pushed up her sweater with one hand, revealing that she wore just a thin, black, singlet vest underneath. Her nipples were standing out through the vest; Orla cupped her breasts in one hand, while the other worked down under the material of her panties.

The Saab slowed; traffic was building up near the bridge across the river. We were close to the building now, just a mile or so, but I knew from experience that this was often the slowest part of the journey home from this side of town. I put my hand on Tiz's thigh and stroked her firm muscled leg. She smiled, let her skirt ride back, and watched Orla squirming on the back seat through the driver's mirror.

'Your friend is very aroused,' she commented, stating the obvious (but so charmingly, who cared'). Orla was wiggling her behind on the Saab's leather seat, pushing her left hand under the hem of the vest while she continued to stroke at her pussy under her panties. The van driver hooted the horn a few times - but there was no way he was urging the traffic to move. Orla seemed able to both ignore him and entertain him. You could have asked a thousand witnesses if she was actually turned on by him watching, and I'm pretty sure less than a hundred would have though it likely.

Orla squeezed her breasts and worked her fingers further into her body. Her eyes were fluttering all the time, barely open, then tight closed. A small moan escaped her lips. Leaning across the front seat, I touched Tiz through her panties... silky, white briefs, edged with lace. She was extremely wet.

'What are you thinking?' I asked, in a quiet calm voice that really was just a mask of my own enjoyment. Tizianna's face had remained impassive, calm, professionally focussed on her job, all along.

'I was wondering... if I should say... that I have never been with a woman before, much less in a threesome... I mean foursome.' She laughed, a little nervously, though whether because she was struggling just a little to get the language perfect, or because of her arousal, I wasn't sure.'I knew, somehow, that this Christmas, with this new job, that this would change.'

I stroked her mound lightly through her panties, and she shivered.'Don't make me cum now. I want to relax and enjoy it all.'

In the back seat, Orla was not big on patience. She was pinching her nipples, and riding her clit on her own fingers, pushing her legs open wide and humping her hips up and down. There was another plaintive toot on the van horn. The traffic was slipping forward again, and our lane faster than his.

'You better tell your friend to calm down,' whispered Tizianna.

I looked back the front seat. Orla seemed happy enough in her own world, but Tiz wasn't just thinking about that.

'There's a cop car ahead of us.'

*****

We were still laughing about that after Tiz parked the Saab in the underground garage and we manhandled Orla's luggage up to the spare bedroom in the apartment I shared with Jessica. Orla bounced on the bed, laughing, her eyes alight with mischief.'I made it!' she sang.

This visit had been talked about for a long time. The three of us - Orla, Jessica and I - had met in London the year before, and that had been an amazing week of fun. It had taken this long to bring her over to us. Orla was one of the people who thought most like Jessica about how to live life... Jessica was particularly looking forward to Orla and Lisa meeting.

That would have to wait. For now, I went to make coffee while Tiz offered to help Orla unpack. The crazy Irish wench had brought three enormous cases, and from what I saw the first one contained nothing but lingerie. It was women like Orla who had convinced me I needed to buy a lot of stock in Victoria's Secret.

I took a caffetiere back to the guest bedroom, foolishly thinking that Orla would need refreshment after her long flight and the noisy orgasm she had enjoyed in the back of the Saab. Instead, Orla was wide awake, and parading round in just the silky black singlet and the long socks, managing to combine unpacking with a lingerie show as she held underwear against her body and showed off to Tiz.

'You should try these on,' she sang.'Or these! Oh! This La Perla set would look so good on you.'

If it involved a lot of taking off and putting on, I was all in favour of the chauffeur's time being spent that way. Needless to say, someone had to spoil things. Brad called, asking if we were happy with Tiz, and should he add her to the roster, and going over all the details of how Jessica would have first call on her services, day and night, as if this hadn't been ironed out a thousand times.

'If you're done with her now, could you send her back?' he said at last.'There are a lot of theatre bookings tonight.'

'Sorry, Brad,' I said.'I think she's busy.'

That was a little bit of a lie, but it was fair to say that Tiz wasn't going anywhere at the moment. Orla had persuaded her out of her uniform, and into a dynamic scarlet basque and stockings set, that made her legs appear even longer and pushed her ample tits up into quite a show. I cursed Brad for having dragged me away.

'Are we going to play now?' Orla asked, impatiently.

'Your card says foursome, Orla,' I reminded her. She pouted.

'I'll have to draw more cards,' she said.

I was tempted to find the ice bucket for her, only I knew it was well hidden. So, instead, Orla went to shower, while I explained the whole Xmas present thing to Tiz, whose eyebrows arched higher and higher at the tale, as she learned to appreciate her new employer much more.

We were sitting on the end of the bed, me still in my street clothes (minus the coat) and Tiz in the borrowed red underwear. We were in an unconscious parody of how we had been sitting in the car - she on the left, me close at her side. Once more my hand strayed to her thigh. I felt her muscles tense, and her body tremble.

'I have not drawn a card.'

'Would you like to?'

'Very much. But Orla will let me share hers, I think.'

'And you'd like to experience a woman for the first time.'

'Yes,' she sighed.'Oh, and this will be two women... and you...'

In the adjoining bathroom, Orla was singing in the shower. At least it started off as singing, but soon that Irish lilt was performing a different song, as Orla's voice betrayed her rush towards another orgasm. The pleading, anxious, edgy sound to her voice filled the room. I lifted my hand to Tiz's pussy and stroked her. She was bare under the basque.

'I am so wet,' she sighed, leaning back a little. And indeed she was. I ran my fingers inside her labia, feeling soft skin. She drew her feet back up to the bed, and I touched her lightly across her clit, watching her eyes flicker and her tongue run around her lips. She twitched her pussy against my fingers, throwing her thighs wide and panting with pleasure. I heard the shower stop, and moments later Orla stepped back into the room.

There was no point even mentioning that this still wasn't a foursome. Orla leaned Tiz back on the bed, and kissed her mouth, wet hair draping over her face, bare breasts stroking over the basque. Tiz gasped into her mouth, flexed her hips against my fingers. She kissed Orla feverishly, pulling the Irish girl down against her body, stroking at the backs of her shoulders and her hair. I felt her pussy gush around my fingers.

I released her body, and she and Orla rolled against each other, kissing and tonguing each other's mouths deeply. They stroked and petted, peeling back the straps of the lingerie, baring their breasts, rubbing impatiently against each other. I stood back and watched; the two women were lost in each other.

I must have been a little lost too. The first I knew that Jessica was there was when I felt her hand on my shoulder and her light kiss on my cheek.

'Hey, baby, what is going on here?'

*****

There were squeals, and laughter and more squeals. Orla kissed Jessica, Jessica kissed Orla; Jessica shook Tiz's hand and kissed her cheek, saying she was happy that she had taken the job. Orla kissed Lisa. Lisa stood in the doorway and smirked.

'Is this what you get up to when you're alone here every day?' she mocked.

'Not every day,' I replied.'We don't always have house guests.'

'I'll have to stop by more often,' she grinned. Like that was possible.

Jessica came over to me and kissed me again, grinning widely, eyes sparkling. I knew that look. She knew something I didn't. I see that look almost every day.