If Only It Had Stayed In Vegas Part 2 Before the Party
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If Only It Had Stayed In Vegas, Part 3: The Girls At The Party free porn video
Helen does not speak during the taxi ride. Her nerves are on edge, stomach in free fall. Is this how paranoia begins? A suspicion others are scheming, hatching plans for you?
To distract herself from her thoughts, she looks out of the window, watches the city and its nightlife scrolling by. The people on the streets. Surely their lives simpler than her own.
"It'll be great. You'll see," Martin says.
She remains silent, still fuming from earlier. Her throat is dry, thinks she might yet cry.
"I've never seen you look so beautiful," he tells her. But she refuses to face him.
At Marcus's building, the concierge has rung up to let him know they are here. But it is Erika who they see when the elevator doors slide open.
"Welcome," Erika says, her eyes instantly annexing Helen. "The pair of you are most welcome." But she does not look at Martin, has eyes and words only for Helen, her voice insinuating, intimate: "I am so pleased you are, Helen. Martin has been so cruel to tease Erika, saying his lovely wife might be otherwise engaged, tonight of all nights." It is only now she looks at Martin, a glint of satisfaction beaming from her eyes. "But I was sure neither of you would want to make sadness for poor Erika."
Erika's arms reaching for Helen, pulling her close, her cheek pressed against warm, soft bare cleavage. When they separate, Erika takes hold of both Helen's hands and looks intently into her eyes before depositing sticky kisses on each cheek. "Such beauty!" she tells Helen, her eyes full of light and delight.
Martin smiling, watching them together, saying to Erika, "As soon as I told Helen how much you wanted her to be here tonight, she couldn't wait, could you, darling?"
She turns to him, scowling now. "That's right, darling. I couldn't wait, could I?"
But Erika has not caught the bile in Helen's tone. "Good. This is so pleasing for me. From now on you and I, Helen, will be closest friends. And Uri too. He will be so pleased to see you again. He often speaks of you." At the mention of Uri, Helen is a co-conspirator, the look between the two women as thick as thieves. "Well, don't just stand there, come, come. There are so many people here for you to enjoy — though I am afraid Marcus is hiding away with Uri. They have great dealings to attend to. Later I promise to introduce you. I think you will be liking Marcus immensely, Helen. He is such a fine figure. A bloody good sort," she says, hamming up an English upper-class accent.
A Japanese maid in a micro-skirted uniform appears as if from thin air, eager to take their coats. Helen is reluctant to relinquish hers, dreads forgoing the modesty it assures her. The girl is already behind her, has begun to ease it from her shoulders. The swiftness of the manoeuvre stuns Helen into acquiescence. When she is free of the garment, Erika's eyes sweep over her body and down to her legs, her hands reaching out and lifting the hem of her dress, almost revealing her underwear as she rubs the material between her fingers, saying, "Such a fine garment to have chosen. Only the sylph Helen could make such a unique garment a success."
Helen wants the floor beneath her to open up. Her fingers quickly brush down her dress against her thighs, desperate to flatten the material, fix it like paper to a wall.
Erika leads them through to the main reception, a large open lounge that has one entire wall constructed of plate glass. But Helen hardly notices her surroundings, is still smarting from Erika's comment about her dress.
The room is minimally furnished, post-modern, the walls adorned with enormous abstracts. Conversation and laughter electrify the air. There must be at least a hundred people present, Helen thinks as she scans the room looking for the type of women and men, the escorts she had seen at the party in Vegas.
Perhaps Martin has got it wrong. Maybe tonight is just a social gathering, and Erika won't be seducing her after all. When Erika turns from them for a moment to speak to another guest, Helen feels a weight has lifted from her shoulders.
What a fool to have been so nervous about coming here. She smiles at Martin and says, "I'm sorry darling."
"What for?"
"Being a complete bitch earlier."
"See, I knew you'd be okay once we were here."
"I've decided I'm going to enjoy tonight."
"Good girl," he says, and kisses her lightly on the top of her forehead.
Erika returns and says, "Come," and takes Helen by the hand and leads her away to meet people, Martin trailing behind.
There are introductions, and Helen bluffs an air of sophistication, her courage fortified by the necklace, the jewel against her throat, though deep down she doubts she fools anyone. The guests are an assortment of businesspeople from various parts of Europe. Others are people from the arts: writers, a famous poet, a painter, and a couple of rock musicians. Many people seem to know each other.
The conversation becomes loud and animated, laughter and excitement eddying back and forth through the room as she and Martin are paraded from clique to clique, introduced to practically everyone. Erika paints a picture of Martin Helen hardly recognises. She grows proud to think her husband is so highly regarded. Everyone seems pleased to meet her too. "Such a beautiful wife," she hears time and time over.
She scans the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of maybe some other GlobalKudos employees. Then she remembers that this is Marcus's party. So why has she and Martin have been chosen to attend out of all the other staff? She pushes down the unsettling apprehension again starting to nag at her mind.
Martin is talking to someone about the company's European strategy, and Helen's mind slowly disengages. She looks around idly, watching the groups of people laughing and talking.
Why is that girl watching me?
A stunning young woman has fixed Helen in her sights, her gaze one of unnerving intensity. Helen turns away and tries to kindle an interest in Martin's conversation. But the intense loveliness of the girl's eyes has burned itself into her mind, and she is compelled to seek the girl out again. She looks up, and over to where the girl stands watching. Helen is shocked to find those eyes have never left her. Her mind in turmoil, emotions in free-fall, Helen scans the girl's body. Anything to break free of the erotic traction of those eyes. Oh God! That necklace around her sleek neck.
Now she is walking towards Helen, her gaze never wavering. Tall and lithe, her movements are unhurried, each step declaring the self-satisfied ease of the congenitally beautiful. Her low cut dress displays a full cleavage that draws Helen's eyes to the rise and fall of her self-satisfied breasts. Hair shoulder length and coiffured to perfection, ethereal and argent. Her cute snub-nose is a relic of childhood made cruel in maturity by sensual, over-ripe lips.
Helen summons all her reserves of courage, wills herself not to flee. Closer now, the girl gives her a secret smile and something inside Helen burst open. Everything she had previously surmised about the sexual appeal of women is blown away, her certainties becoming dandelion fluff on a sudden summer breeze.
Uncontrollably blushing, Helen wants to lower her eyes. But they are locked, no longer hers to direct. The girl is closer now, her eyes seeming to grow larger every second, becoming ever more insistent, pinning Helen to the floor like exotic Lepidoptera in a case. The room all around her —the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses — fades away.
Later, Helen was unable to recall what she said when the girl came to her, smiling that smile, her eyes promising things Helen always thought unobtainable. Had there been words at all?
The girl's kiss strikes like lightning. Lips red and sticky. Fragrant and sweet, grease adhering. The girl pulls back to smile at Helen, and then turns and walks away. Although the girl has not said a word, Helen knows she is to follow her. But her legs will not obey, and the girl turns around and looks back, sees Helen transfixed and gaping. She returns and takes Helen's hand in hers, lifts the useless limb that dangles by her side, squeezes encouragement.
They weave among the guests, palms clasped tight. Helen expects heads to turn, but none do. She is holding the hand of this most sublime female creature, and yet no one pays her the slightest attention. Surely everyone should be astonished, look their way as they pass. She studies faces. Don't they see her? Why aren't they whispering? Even Martin fails to acknowledge her; his wife, the lesbian.
The pair trail through the room and out to a balcony, Helen copying the girl when she takes champagne from a passing waitress. Out in the fresh, evening air, the space of the terrace is all aglow with decorative strings of tiny, twinkling lights. They stand side by side, leaning on the railing while sipping their drinks, looking out over a jewelled London night.
Helen looks at the cityscape stretching before her, and a hushed calm settles over her. The balcony lights and that from tall buildings all around add pure magic to the moment. The night-time traffic drone rises from the streets below, rumours from a world Helen once thought she knew. Now her mind is lifted away to float high above the world of her day to day concerns. She becomes dreamy, the sounds of the party seeming distant, hushed.
Then the sweet, musical voice of the girl saying, "You are, Helen. Yes?"
Hearing her name on the lips of this strangely beautiful person, Helen turns to face her. "Your necklace?" Helen asks as she reaches out and lightly touches the enormous Saphire that is the centre of the piece. "A gift?".
The girl does not answer. She is searching for words, choosing carefully, her deep-set green eyes alive with bright astonishment and unfathomable intelligence. Helen tries to put an age her, and now they are so near to each other sees a teenager, no older than nineteen.
Her Russian accent is heavier than Erika's, every word unpacked with care. "Each of us — we who are to be sisters — have such a necklace." As she speaks, the girl watches Helen's face intently.
"Sisters?"
"You and I are to be the Little Two, Anastasia and Maria," she reaches out to touch Helen's necklace, "This once belonged to Anastasia."
They stand facing each other, each with an arm extended, their fingers gently resting on each other's necklace.
"Is this what tonight is all about. Do I look like a dead princess?" Helen asks, the dark fist of tragic history closing around her heart.
"Dressed correct, your likeness will be good."
This talk makes no sense to Helen. She does not want to try and untangle the girl's Meaning.
There is a vortex of sexual attraction eddying back and forth between the two girls, underwriting every word they exchange. Helen struggles to think, is desperate to say sentences that have a semblance of sanity. "There were four Romanov girls, weren't there?" she finally manages.
"There are two others to play the Big Two. I have not met these girls. Perhaps they do their practice right now!"
"Practice. Princesses, necklaces and auditions. Would you mind explaining at least some of it to me." Helen takes her hand from the girls necklace and awaits an answer.
"Have you done the sleeping with the girl before?" the girl asks.
"You mean slept with?"
"Yes, sorry. My English is poorest. You sleep with the girls?"
The bluntness of the question leaves Helen momentarily speechless. All she can think of is to bat the question back. "Do you?"
"It is, how you say, my way. My orientation. But you have avoided my question."
"You want to know if I Have ever slept with a girl? No, never! "
"But you are so lovely. It is a shock to me that the English ladies do not move onto you."
"Make a move on me," Helen corrects, now smiling. The girl's struggle with English is endearing. "I don't think I give out that kind of vibe."
"Your vibe is powerful for me," the girl says, smiling for Helen before continuing. "I desire to be kissing you now, but Erika would not be happy. She must be seeing our first closeness."
"What has Erika got to do with it?"
"We are to be pleasing her, you and me together. Soon it will be time."
"You and me and Erika; is that what she has planned?"
"Yes, biggest plan. Soon is time to be with her. Come!" She reaches out and retakes Helen's hand and begins to lead her away.
"Wait," Helen says, pulling the girl around to face her again. "I don't even know your name."
"Yalena. It is what I am named."
"You are beautiful, Yalena."
"I am thanking you so much, but time is running from us." She turns away, her hand urging Helen to follow. "Come quickly now."
The two girls weave hand in hand between the chattering groups of people, lithe dancers on a crowded stage. As they go, Helen's eyes search for Martin's face among those of so many strangers.
How can this be? It is an apartment; these long corridors make no sense. They pass many doors on either side before coming to a halt. Yalena reaches into a small purse, takes out a compact and checks her makeup in its mirror. When she is satisfied with her reflection, she turns to Helen.
"We are to be with Erika. Your trial." She sees the alarm in Helen's eyes at the word 'trial'. "Not my best speaking word." Yalena thinks and then says, Your test. Like the actor for part."
"You mean like an audition?"
"Yes. Audition. Like the actress."
"Audition for what?"
"Erika will instruct us soon — the way we are to make the loving, how she enjoys so much."
"I would prefer it were only you doing the instructing," Helen says.
Yalena smiles broadly as she says, "There will be another time for my instructing." She reaches out and strokes Helen's cheek. "But now your thoughts must be all of Erika."
It is making no sense, but before Helen can ask anything else, Yalena turns from her and raps on the door with an insistence that is full of the certainty that Helen no longer owns.
From the other side of the door, Erika calls for them to enter. Yalena takes Helen's hand before opening the door. She senses Helen's reluctance to follow, turns and throws her a searching look, sees her wild apprehension, and so leans forward to kiss her gently, reassuringly on the lips. "It will be okay. I am here with you until it is done."
Erika in her low-cut, red bandage dress stands at the foot of an enormous circular bed, flanked by a waitress on either side, each as sylphlike as Helen. How the dress clings to Erika's body, shouts the woman's voluptuousness as it hugs the chicane of her hips, waist and thighs. Helen is seeing Erika as if for the first time, her eyes wandering, taking in every detail, starting to imagine, undressing the older woman, anticipating the surfeit of flesh that she will surely have to taste.
"Welcome, my darling girls," Erika says, her arms outstretched, "Come to me and give your dear ma-ma a kiss."
Yalena lets slip Helen's hand, walks over to Erika and kisses her lips. It is a familial kiss, the kiss Lucretia Bogia would give to her father. Only five seconds, but such long seconds during which tongues are reacquainted, bonds renewed.
"And your sister, my dear, how she is grown. Quite the young lady." She relinquishes Yalena, shoos her back to Helen, slaps her bottom as she goes, "Hurry now, my darling."
Helen and Yalena stand side by side: Yalena, lean, tall and beautiful; Helen, sylphlike, perfectly proportioned, exquisitely pretty. Once again, hand in hand, they wait.
"So generous of Marcus to lend us his girls, don't you think?" Erika says, looking in turn at each waitress by her side. "Their names are Hana and Asami,"
Erika gives the two maids instructions, in what Helen presumes is Japanese. Both girls nod and bow, and then with synchronised timing they walk briskly to Helen and Yalena, each taking up a position behind them.
"As befits two royal princesses, Hana and Asami will help you to undress," Erika says to Helen and Yalena.
Hana's deft fingers at the nape of Helen's neck quickly find the zip of her dress, cool palms easing the fabric from shoulders. The garment falls to the ground, becomes a puddle of cloth about her heels out of which Helen steps. Hana stoops and retrieves it, careful not to crease as she takes it and places it over a chair.
While she does so, Helen turns to her side and sees Yalena standing tall, serene and beautiful in just her cute silk panties. Her perfect breasts are pert, her nipples already hard. Asami is stooping behind her, fingers in the waist elastic of her panties, slipping them down over thighs and calves. Before she collects the garments she has just removed, she kisses Yalena's bottom once on each cheek.
Hana returns to Helen, who stands feeling foolish but quite biddable in her tights and underwear. Immediately the servant girl removes Helen's bra with fussless dexterity, lets it fall to the ground as she goes down on her knees to peel away those expensive tights, two thumbs in the waistband taking the gossamer material, gathering and stretching it as it travels over her thighs and calves, her panties brought down behind.
Hana kissing Helen's butt cheeks, one and then the other, finishing off by parting her arse fissure and momentarily letting her curled tongue poke into Helen's clenched pucker. When she pulls away, stands and returns to Erika and Asamai, Helen is filled with longing for the girl to return and continue what she had begun.
"You may leave us now," Erika tells Hana and Asamai.
The two girls bow, simultaneously say, "Oyasumi nasai," before turning and leaving the room.
Erika looks directly at Helen and says, "Come to me, darling daughter, and kiss your dear ma-ma."
Helen gets it now — the sick fantasy Erika wants to play out.
"What are you waiting for, dear girl?" Erika asks Helen. And then to Yalena, "Be a darling girl, come to me and loosen my dress."
Hesitantly, Helen follows Yalena to Erika, each step an act of will. Yalena takes up position behind Erika, begins to unfasten the zipper of her dress. Even before Helen has reached Erika, the dress is off her shoulders, tugged down over her hips. Erika steps out of the dress, her magnificent breasts now bare. She welcomes Helen with encircling arms, taking her under her wing as if to guard and protect her chick. Helen rests her cheeks against Erika's bosom, and as the older woman pulls her closer, Helen feels her boundaries dissolving. She is safe here, has returned home.
Erika's breasts! A sumptuous pillow for Helen's cheek. Why had she ever feared them? It comforts her, this utterly feminine flesh laced as it is with such a subtle, intoxicating fragrance, barely discernable but utterly compelling. Helen inhales and her mind is astonished by the effect of the almost subliminal olfactory nuances Erika's skin exudes. How can there be such complexity in something only half hinted at. Inhaling the warm delicacy of Erika's skin stirs sensations Helen never suspected owning.
The mingling of this woman's underlying femininity with expensive unguents has given rise in Helen to an exquisite need. It is not that she surrenders to the exhilarating giddiness that now threatens to overcome her; it is more like a misjudge recreational drug dose that delivers its kick with unanticipated severity. She has become inconsequential to herself, now it is only her body that matters, the pleasure it will give and receive.
And then Yalena is by Helen's side, sending her a smiling glance before turning away to take Erika's right breast in both her palms, lifting it as if choosing bulbous fruit, holding it steady before gorging on it as if to slate a thirst.
Helen is quick to learn, has taken hold of Erika's left breast, lifts it in a similar way she has just seen Yalena do, judging its density and size, sharing its weight among both hands, her moist palms firm around it like a netball she is about to throw. Perhaps it is the sheer muchness of what she holds that simultaneously appals and thrills Helen, or maybe it is the realisation that this moment is so right, that for years and years she has unnecessarily worn the hairshirt of denial.
Her tongue tentatively circling, widdershins and then deasil of the areola, and then pressing her cheeks against the fragrant baby-softness of fair skin, savouring the breast's mothering calm, its softness more pleasing than she ever thought possible, alternating between sucking and licking, while fingers and nails each side begin their pussy cat kneading. And then an urge to bite. Play kitten nips to start, her teeth testing the boundaries of what Erika can endure, her lovely white teeth unrestrained sinking into the engorged and pliant nipple until Erik groans from the pleasure of hurt.
The two girls stand before Erika, both lost to their surrounding, each totally absorbed in the task of pleasing this tall and extraordinarily beautiful woman. Though Yalena has to bend her neck for her mouth to find Erika's breast, Helen need only stand upright and look straight ahead. Helen's shoulder brushes Yalena's arm as they please, Yalena deliberately moving her arms against her, both girls taking pleasure from even this minimal mutual contact while sharing the task they have been given.
Erika's cooing appreciation, "Ah! My darling girls. My darling, darling girls." She has a hand resting at the back of each girl's head, her fingers tangled in silken strands as she now begins to step back, bringing the pair to the bed with her without breaking contact. Then gingerly easing herself down onto her back, the two girls determined to not break the connection.
Erika encourages their heads away from her breasts. It is a gentle weening, bringing Helen's lips to hers while Yalena moves away to kiss her neck.
Helen has slid her right leg over Erika's thighs, and now her cunt is pressing hard, becoming incontinent in arousal. There is a maelstrom of desire raging in her abdomen, a swirl of sexual energy that spreads down into every reproductive tissue. Her cunt is fervid with need, becoming over-ripe, soon to be putrid with longing. Her arousal seeps from her, and her undulating hips smear what she leaves so that it lubricates her, eases the frantic rubbing as her aching pussy undulates over Erika's right thigh.
But all of Helen's thoughts are drowned by the sheer delight of her first lesbian kiss. She had expected Erika to kiss her, had imagined being dominated and overwhelmed by the older, more experienced woman. It is so disconcerting to find Erika now supine and passive, accepting Helen's kiss like she had imagined she might have to endure Erika's.
The warm lushness of a woman's mouth compounds the arousal already stoked from rubbing he pussy against Erika's leg. As her tongue goes curling with Erika's, Helen is close to orgasm. She increases the pressure of her pussy on Erka's thigh, her movement becoming faster while her kiss grows ardent, her lips and tongue working together to give, and receive pleasure. She so wants to express with her body, her lips and mouth, the desire that rages in her, give rein to the torrent of need she feels, but also wants to evoke it in Erika.
Yalena sitting up to watch Helen in the depths of her lovemaking, then easing her aside so she can kiss Erika with the same unbridled passion she has just seen. The two girls take turns. Sometimes their three tongues play together, free of the confines of lips and teeth.
The two girls mouths travel down the side Erika's body, Helen to the right, Yalena on the left, their progress synchronised. Helen takes cues from Yalena, intuiting what is expected of her. She is a single swallow in a flock responding to its nearest neighbour's twists and dives. Erika stretches back with both arms, reaching for and gripping the headboard of the bed as the girl's tongues begin licking under her upper arms, finding their way to nuzzle the dark recess of her smooth and fragrant armpits, eliciting moans, her sincerest gratitude.
Their mouths come together over the smooth adipose of her mons, tongues briefly clashing before Yalena is settled between Erika's legs, her facial features lost to view as she sets about licking Erika's cunt, savouring the raw depths of her gash. Helen watches intently, determined to learn while brushing back strands of Yalena's silken strands from time to time, as they fall and threaten to curtain her view. It Amazes Helen to be so close to this most intimate act that two women can share. She watches, looks closely as Yalena's serpent tongue probes the tissue of Erika's gaping cunt.
Yalena surfaces, looks at Helen and nods for her to take her place, continue what she has begun. Erika's cunt becomes Helen's sole focus, its rawness suddenly compelling, Yalena's spital glistening in every fold of skin, and Erika's cum raw oozing from her like latex milked from plantation bark.
Her lips form a seal around Erika's cunt as her tongue familiarises itself with this newness. There is a metallic battery tingle, the taste of old pennies. Such tang and zest down here, so much so that as she imbibes the unctuous piquancy of Erika's sex, Helen's mouth begins to water like the onset of nausea, adding her copious saliva to the mix. She lets her tongue sweep up and down, sends it circling the maw of Erika's cunt, then darting and going as deep as anatomy will allow. Then she is down to business proper. Determined to prove her worth, she lavishes her tongue's attention, its pinpoint certainty, on the bud of Erika's clit.
Helen cannot see but somehow intuits that somewhere above her Yalena has straddled Erika's face, lowered her pussy down on to the older woman's features and is now undulating her hips back and forth while pinching her own nipples with intent to hurt. The sounds the other two are making spur Helen on, her tongue all meat and thrash.
When Erika cums, her hips bucking and twisting, both Helen's hands grip her buttocks from beneath, drawing the mass of them down to enfold her chin, drawn into her arse's swampy fissure, now generously oiled by girl saliva and her own cunt's seepage. Erika's arse becomes all-consuming, its pudge and mass voracious. But Helen will see it through. She continues to lick, is determined her tongue will please Erika until she is wracked with bliss, finally done.
After the convulsion, the world in upheaval, when Erika is calm Helen peeps up shyly from between her legs and sees Yalena still straddling Erika's face, her buttocks subsuming the woman's nose, massed over cheeks and chin. Yalena is close to orgasm, Helen seeing it in how the girl wildly grinds with her hips, her pace increasing until in a shocking instant her orgasm explodes from her, her will relinquished, sending her full weight down onto Erika's features. How can the woman possibly breathe? But breathe she does, her arms even going up to grip Yalena's hips to draw them onto her face, down harder.
"And now it is Helen who must be pleased," Erika tells Yalena with conspiring solemnity, once she has calmed.
Helen works her way up the bed to join the other two. They are either side of her, she now the focus of their attention. They take turns kissing her like she and Yalena had taken turns to kiss Erika. The flavour of each is so different, the energy and skill of their lips so unlike a man's. Four hands roam her body, hungry mouths devour every inch of her face.
Now it is Yalena between her legs, Erika above her, those enormous hips of hers about to descend. But as they settle on Helen's face, she hears the door pushed open, others are entering the room. Everything stops.
Erika eases herself from Helen's face, turns to greet the new arrivals. "Ah, the Big Two," she says, referring to the two women who accompany Uri. There is another man too. Handsome, debonaire. His name is Marcus, she later learns.
"Two more princesses for you," Marcus says.
Erika rises from the bed. Still naked, she goes over to the two new girls, who stand dumbstruck on having seen Erika, Yalena and Helen amid their passion.
"And your name is?" she asks the pretty redhead.
"Maggie," the girl answers.
Now Helen sees the two women —for women in their late twenties they both are she estimates. Each wears a necklace similar to the ones gifted to herself and Yalena.
"And do you understand what is required of you?" Erika continues.
"Marcus has explained," the redhead says.
Turning to the tall brunette by her side. "And you are?"
"Lori," the brunette replies."Marcus has explained everything."
"Good. Now it is time for you to meet your sisters."
TO BE CONTINUED.
Cathalina
- 20.08.2020
- 16
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- Category:
- Lesbian
