Menage

I braced for the first touch of the sable wedge. When it came, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. The tight fit of the corset cups had trapped the blood within the peaks of my breasts,’ sensitising the nerves. The merest brush stimulated as strongly as a pinch. Amy bent closer. Her hot, shallow breath dampened my skin. Bit by bit, she dabbed me with the cold, wet paint. As it dried, the cosmetic warmed and tightened, making me feel she touched me even when she didn't.

 

She saved my nipples for last and those she brushed back and forth until uncontrollable whimpers broke in my throat. I wondered if Sean could hear as well as see through the mirror. Was he touching himself? Was Joe with him? Would they reach out and fondle each other's

 

hard, straining pricks, the way they must have done a thousand times before?

 

I wished I could see them and yet the fact that I couldn't, and could only imagine, had its own erotic power.

 

"There,’ said Amy. She stepped aside so I could admire her work. Two perfect raspberries.'

 

A wisp of deja vu tickled my subconscious, just as it had when Sean's transvestite friend complimented my breasts. But Amy was waiting for a response.

 

'I see what you're aiming for,’ I said, my voice so thick I had to clear my throat. 'Unless you looked carefully you'd think I was fully covered.'

 

She beamed at me. 'Exactly. Now, turn around and bend over. Yes, grab that chair and lean your hands on it. I need to do your back.'

 

My back required considerably more coverage, since nothing but a snug-fitting thong covered my muscular bottom. I melted under the endless strokes. Having my hair washed at the salon made me horny, no matter if some fat hairy guy was doing it. This was a hundred times worse - or better, I suppose.

 

'Mm,’ I sighed, and wriggled my bottom in Amy's direction. Sean must be getting an eyeful. In this position, all that concealed my sex was a thin strip of silk: a thin, sodden strip of silk.

 

'Oh, Kate,’ said Amy, surprising me by using my name. 'Your butt is to die for.'

 

A muffled protest penetrated the barrier of the mirror, followed by a hollow slap, as if a hand had been clapped over someone's mouth. I added it up then. The source of the compliments I'd been receiving today was Joe. Sean must have tricked him into talking about me. I could easily imagine the conversation. 'Kate's got nice tits,’ Sean would say, oh-so-casually. 'Oh, yeah,’ Joe would agree, happy to discuss his current object of obsession. "They're nice and full, but they hang just right and the nipples, mm, they're like sweet, creamy raspberries.' On it would go until Sean had an entire battery of compliments, one of which Joe was bound to have used in what should have been a private moment.

 

How upset Joe must be, thinking I'd think he'd betrayed an intimate secret!

 

And what a nasty girl I was, because the thought of his entirely unnecessary anguish made my sex grow moist and warm.

 

Amy distracted me from the delicious throb of guilt by sliding the thong to the side and beginning to paint my cleft. I flinched at the cold touch on this more sensitive skin. 'Shh,’ she murmured. She ran the brush from stem to stern in long, hypnotising strokes. 'Just relax.'

 

Without warning, she reversed the brush and inserted the first slim inch past my sphincter. Shocked, I went up on my toes, then sank back to take it. She turned the inch of polished wood in a knee-melting circle, soothing an itch I hadn't known I'd had.

 

'Oh,’ I said, feeling my bowels flutter wildly.

 

"That's a beautiful little rosebud,' she said, and I wondered if these, too, were Joe's words. 'It's so tight and puckered. It looks as if it wants a kiss.' She sighed. 'Too bad I've painted it so nicely. I wouldn't want to ruin it.'

 

Go ahead, ruin it, I almost said, but I wasn't ready to go that far. Removing the paint brush, she leant closer to blow me dry. The warm puffs stirred my pubic hair, heated my lips, and made my stiff little button feel as if it had been set on the grill.

 

'Bend over a bit more,' she said. She stepped away from me and pulled open another drawer in the magic cabinet. 'Now don't look up, Kate. We mustn't spoil the surprise.'

 

I heard a cap twist open; heard liquid glugging and then a cap - no, two caps - being replaced. She moved behind me again. I felt something new probe the pucker of my anus, something thick and firm that dripped oil down my quivering furrow. Whatever the something was - a dildo, I suspected - it flexed as she pushed, then slid inside in one lubricious rush.

 

My passage embraced the intrusion, squirming with rapture. I marvelled at how quickly one could develop a taste for these things. Sean, of course, would not neglect such a detail. Every part of me must be tightened round the screw of desire, but especially the part whose virginity he had claimed.

 

"There,’ Amy patted the plugging end. 'Now you're dressed for success.'

 

I laughed, but this time she didn't take offence, just stood me up and turned me around to face the mirror. I seemed a different woman, my eyes starred with lust, my cheeks flushed and my limbs liquid and loose, despite my constraining garments.