Act of Exposure (21 page)

A small gob of
liquid christened the stark whiteness. He stared, longing for her
to come back, dive down onto it, lick that juice from off his very
tip.

Instead he
looked up as he heard a familiar voice. Smiling, Abigail came back
holding the hand of an equally smiling Valeria.

'Darling,'
said Valeria in a husky tone. 'Abby told me you need some cheering
up.'

Stephen could
not prevent his mouth from dropping open. Suddenly, the cares of
recent days didn't seem so important - at least not at this moment
in time.

They stood
there - both of them - at the foot of the bed, and slowly, oh so
slowly, they began to peel their business clothes away from their
bodies.

Valeria had
pale brown skin that shone as though she dabbed it with shiny stuff
or rubbed it with baby oil. She wore a black bra from which her
breasts spilled. Dark nipples stared like eyes from over the
trimming of lace.

Stephen lay
transfixed. This was a dream turned reality; a pre-waking vision he
had sometimes had, one that usually left him with an immense
hard-on that only the frantic caress of his hand could hope to get
rid of. Hesitantly, he squeezed the very tip of his cock until he
cried out, until he was sure that this was no dream; that two very
beautiful women stood at the foot of his bed.

One, Valeria,
was dark haired, lean as an athlete, and highly desirable.

She was naked
now, the brownness of her body tight on her bones, her nipples a
purplish-black, her pubic hair black and curling tightly to her
body.

Valeria was
sight enough to send his blood racing to harden his member. But to
have two women, and for the other to be Abby, was double the
pleasure.

Abby was
running her hands over her body, lifting her breasts, offering them
to him as though they were plump fruit, and only he had the right
price to pay for them. Never could he tire of gazing on her creamy
flesh, the curve of her belly where it swooped between her
thighs.

She opened
them slightly. 'All for you,' she whispered, and pulled her pubic
lips apart so he could see for himself the treasures they
covered.

Valeria did
the same.

'I think I
must be dreaming,' he said. His breath rushed from his mouth as
though there was no longer any room for it in his body - what with
his blood racing like it was. 'Please,' he said, and held out his
arms.

They lay on
the bed and their warmth pressed against him, a soothing pressure
that made him feel secure, that made him forget. He kissed each of
them, then closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations their
closeness was generating.

Their breasts
cushioned his chest, their bellies were warm against his hips. Each
girl kissed his neck, bent one knee, and lay that leg across his.
At the top of his thighs, he could feel the furry crispness of
their pubic hair, the slick warmth of their exposed labia.

'Just lie
there,' said Abigail, her breath hot against his ear. 'Close your
eyes, lie there, and let us do this to you.'

For one moment
he considered he might not wish to do that; his blood was racing,
he wanted to fuck them, fuck them both, but all at one and the same
time. It was only to be expected. After all, it was not often a man
was lying in bed with two beautiful women who wanted nothing but to
comfort him. But their reasoning came to him. If he closed his eyes
the sight of their bodies would be hidden from him. He would have
nothing to rely on except hearing, taste, and touch.

'Please,' said
Abigail softly, and kissed his eyelids.

On closing
them, he suddenly knew he had done the right thing.

Their hands
ran over him, evoking sensations, and taking those sensations all
over his body. He groaned as they pulled the sheet away from him,
felt their hands - one encircling his length, and one fondling his
balls.

'Relax,' he
heard her say, and he did relax.

'Open your
legs,' she said, so he did that too.

Their hands
continued to caress him and elicit the most delicious responses.
But their mouths had moved on.

One luscious
mouth was clamped over the head of his penis. The other was sucking
at his scrotum so his loose sac lurched into her mouth like a
portion of crumpled silk.

As Stephen
groaned softly beneath their expert hands and the power of their
mouths, he thought of how often he had wanted this to happen, but
more often, he thought purely of Abigail, of Carmel, and of the
naked dancer who exposed her body at the Red Devil Club.

As her lips
found and pleasured his most sensitive spots, Abigail was thinking
of him. There was no way she was going to let him be crucified by a
vicious and biased press. No matter what it took, she would
infiltrate where necessary whether as Carmel, Jezebel, or Abigail
Corrigan QC. The end justified the means, and she meant the end to
be a dismissal of the charge levelled against him.

As she suckled
his balls, the soft skin that enclosed them folded over her nose,
so soft that she could almost have sneezed into it. Scents of fresh
sweat, masculine deodorant, and manly pheromones gently wafted over
her face, entered her nose, and entered her mouth.

Adjacent to
her, Valeria's plum-coloured lips moved swiftly up and down
Stephen's stem and left a glistening coating in their wake.

Beneath her,
she felt Stephen's muscles tensing, his pelvis moving gently up and
down on the bed. Abigail left off what she was doing, her lips
kissing his flesh all the way from his scrotum to his lips.

'Are you
enjoying this?' she asked him.

He opened his
eyes, but not widely.

'Oh, yes.' He
sounded like someone who has just been wakened from a very deep
sleep.

Her heart
melted, and her smile reflected just how loving, how protective her
feelings were for him.

Silently,
between kissing his chin, his lips, and the very tip of his nose,
she studied the colour of his eyes, the dark lashes that surrounded
them like tall grasses around highly reflective water.

He closed his
eyes when she kissed them, opened them again when her lips
travelled on to kiss his cheeks and follow the firm line of his
jaw. Delicately, like a hummingbird feeding on a blossoming
hibiscus, she dipped her tongue into the dimple in his chin.

'This is all
for you,' she said between kisses. 'I have done this for you, and I
will do much more yet.'

He could not
help but moan. She had left his face and was nibbling his nipples
and tangling her fingers in the hairs that grew on his chest.

If his throat
had not been so overcome with sounds of pleasure, he would have
told her that he understood, that he knew that there would be this,
and there would be much more. As in sex, they were kindred
spirits.

She had
Valeria get up on her hands and knees for him, and even held her
friend's pubic lips open so he could see the plummy richness of her
inner flesh, the ragged petals of her inner lips. Then, as he came
to her, she held his rod, kissed its tip, then guided it in, one
hand holding him, the fingers of the other hand still holding apart
the lips of her friend.

His fingers
denting Valeria's flesh, he thrust into her, then held her tightly
against him until his member had plunged the deepest it could go.
Valeria whimpered with pleasure, her eyes closed, oblivious and
uncaring that Abigail's mouth was kissing that of the man fucking
her. By virtue of her position, she knew she was just an appendage
to their pleasure, and the knowledge did not disgust her.

Beneath the
touch of her hands, Abigail felt Stephen's back muscles shiver,
then tense as he thrust into Valeria that much harder.

Her hands
swept further, her fingers following the line of his spine.
Eventually, accompanied by a groan of satisfaction, her palms
caressed his tight, hard buttocks, and her fingers poked
precociously into the deep cleft between them. At first, startled
by her intrusion, his anus was hard to penetrate, but once her
other hand was massaging his swinging balls, all resistance ceased,
and her finger plunged in.

Their tongues
entwined as his body jerked forward. His murmurs of ecstasy were
lost in her mouth as she sucked in the rapacious wetness of his
desire.

With each
forward pulse of his pelvis, she squeezed his scrotal sac, released
it on the backward stroke, then squeezed it again.

'Are you
enjoying this?' Her voice was no more than a rush of breath against
his ear; like the sighing of the wind, the soft closing of a
door.

'Oh,
yes...'

His answer was
drawn out, long and seemingly endless until her lips again sucked
on his.

His concern
had lessened, jerked out of him by the motion of his pelvis
thudding against the rounded buttocks of the dark-skinned Valeria.
Worry was dead, drowned in the flock of sensations that centred on
his weapon and browsed through his scrotum and in his anus.

And her body
was against him, soft-skinned, yet firm. Sexual, lustful, but
caring what he wanted, and what became of him.

It was after
she had plunged her finger in up to the knuckle, that he came.

With one
almighty motion, his pelvis rammed against Valeria, his seed
leaving him like fire leaving the hot barrel of a flame
thrower.

His eyes
stayed closed when he came, his lips hungrily seeking those of the
woman who was his other half, his lawyer, his playmate. As they
kissed and as he came, she twisted the finger that was in him,
squeezed his balls, and pressed them tightly against his body.

The evening
did not end there.

She told him
it wouldn't.

'Make the most
of it,' she said, and as she straddled his limbs, his penis rose up
to meet her descending vagina.

Valeria caught
hold of her wrists, took them behind her back, and tied them with a
stocking.

Then, as
Abigail bounced up and down on Stephen's erection, Valeria herself
mounted across his belly, her back towards Abigail.

As Valeria
leaned forward Abigail did not need to know that Stephen was
playing with her friend's dark boobs, his fingers twisting her
tight little nipples that were already as hard as hazelnuts.
Valeria dipped further forward so that one nipple could not help
but go into Stephen's mouth. She took the other in her hand and
rubbed it against his cheek.

With fingers
outstretched, Stephen's hands came over her shoulders.

Abigail, her
own hands tied behind her back, leaned forward so that both his
hands were filled with her ripe breasts.

As Valeria
groaned with the pleasure of him sucking her, Abigail groaned
because he was squeezing and pinching her teats just as he had been
Valeria's.

All the time,
as this went on, Abigail bounced up and down on Stephen's groin,
his penis held tightly by her muscles, her vagina just as firmly
parted by his cock.

Many other
positions were tried.

Both girls
bent over the bed, bottoms high, and both girls got six of the
best. Not slaps, or canings, but six deep thrusts from his stiff
tool; first one girl, then the other. As he went into one, the
other girl masturbated her friend until the six thrusts were up.
They went on like that until the first girl came, then the
second.

After that, it
was his turn. Each girl knelt before him, and alternating, counting
to sixty as they did it, each girl sucked on his cock whilst the
other played with his balls. Once sixty seconds had passed they
would swop places until the time came when Stephen could take no
more and his seed spurted into the mouth of whoever held him.

'Like Russian
Roulette,' Abigail whispered to him later.

'Or the cat
getting the cream,' he countered.

So that night,
Stephen Sigmund forgot his troubles, forgot that someone was out to
ruin his reputation and implicate him in a public scandal and a
murder enquiry. That night, he had fulfilled a lot of men's
fantasies. That night had been his, and like a barrier, a defensive
wall, it held back tomorrow until it could be held back no
more.

Lance Vector
waited ages before he spotted Abigail Corrigan. He followed her car
and parked behind it outside Stephen Sigmund's home.

Another woman
came that night. She had brown skin, black hair, and a very
expensive taste in clothes. Her legs looked endless.

Although he
did not recognize her as being anyone in the public eye, he took
her picture for future reference and made a mental note to ask
around about her. Perhaps that creep Archie who managed the Red
Devil Club might know her. He could ask him the next time he was
there. He wasn't quite sure when that would be. In future, his
presence as a reporter would not be tolerated. That jerk Archie
Ringer had told him so. He'd been very annoyed with Lance for
publishing his article voicing his disapproval of people in public
declaring their sexual preferences. Originally, Lance had told
Archie that he would simply run his eye over it and tell him where
his writing might have gone astray. He hadn't said he would publish
it, but he had. Lance knew that he had to use anyone and anything
available to expose those who needed exposing. All the same, he
didn't really like upsetting his contacts.

Through a
light drizzle that softened the glare of the street lights and the
headlights of passing cars, Lance had followed the Mercedes to
Stephen Sigmund's place. And now he waited, thinking of having his
body unite with Abigail's, and thinking even more about how he
would shame her before he did so.

A light went
on upstairs. He stared at it, knew it was merely a table lamp, and
imagined its soft light shining on their bodies - naked bodies.

Of course,
their visit could have been innocent. They might merely have
dropped in for a chat, a drink. He wanted to think that, wanted to
believe that Abigail Corrigan was mending her ways and that somehow
her virginity would re-establish itself.