4 comments/ 15542 views/ 7 favorites Trusting Rebekka Ch. 02 By: julie_julia Chapter 02 The Perfect Ones ©Julia Gentile 2011 I wrote this as follow-on to Trusting Rebekka and I've billed it as Chapter 2. But it stands alone as a self-contained story so you can enjoy it without having read the original Trusting Rebekka. You will however understand the context better if you have. It explores my passion for beautiful women in highly charged sensual situations. I hope you like the story and my writing style. If you do, please vote and leave comments; private or public. I love to hear about what people like, it makes the whole writing experience far more rewarding. If you don't like this story, sorry but please look elsewhere for your pleasure. There's plenty on Literotica to suit all tastes. Love, Julia ------------------------------------------- To my amazement, and a certain relief, Rebekka did not take me back to her home, nor to a gingerbread house deep in the dark, dark woods. No, she took me straight to my apartment, escorting me as far as the main entrance. "I need to see you again soon Julia. Come and stay at the weekend." She gave me no opportunity to decline, continuing, "My weekends start on Thursday evening; my driver will collect you here at 5, OK?" "Well, why yes, I, erm ..." I feigned slight indifference whilst my mind raced, imagining what a whole weekend spent with this exciting and stunningly beautiful woman might be like. "Is there anything special I need to bring, or to wear?" I asked, realising what a leading question that was. Rebekka reassured me that a few casual clothes would be fine, continuing, "Anything else you need I am sure we will be able to provide." Rebekka kissed me on the cheek and I waved as her car glided noiselessly away. xxxxxxxxxx During the next few days I had difficulty concentrating on anything much. Everything I wrote was rubbish and I was having the weirdest dreams in the night. I was dressed and ready to go by 3. I'd made sure my phone was fully charged and had posted messages for close friends, that I might not be around until Monday. Her car pulled up at exactly 5; I was already waiting out on the pavement. The driver took my bags from me and opened the door to the empty back seat. The smell of soft hide was comfortingly familiar. The journey only took about 10 minutes, out into the sophisticated suburbs passing high walls, railings and gates. We swung into a wide entrance and crunched up a long, curving gravel drive before stopping outside a very large, opulent but tasteful mansion. Rebekka was waiting at the top of the steps; she kissed me on both cheeks and led me into a large simply-furnished entrance hall. Two slender young women stepped forward, dipped slightly and shook my hand in polite welcome. "Laisha and Nassri will look after you the whole time you are here." Rebekka explained. "They will call you 'Miss Julia'. But you will rarely find it necessary to ask for anything, as they will always know exactly what you want. Call it body language if you like. They will provide a level of personal service most people would never dare to imagine possible." They could easily have passed for sisters, but not twins. Both women were of similar height to Rebekka and looked lithe and leggy in their matching short white coatdresses. Think: nurses' uniforms designed by Coco Chanel. Their faces were captivating, with well-defined cheekbones and jawlines, straight slender noses, full lips and large brown eyes. They wore their straight black hair in similar 'Cleopatra' styles; full precision-cut fringes and below-shoulder length at the back, and with subtle rich brown streaks. Rebekka referred to them using a word in her native language that I translated as 'the Perfect Ones'. I could see why. "Nassri is the one with the star tattoo on her neck." Rebekka explained conveniently, and continued, "They have other distinguishing features that you will discover later. Oh, and in case you were wondering, they are both 19." They could easily have passed for 23; damn right I didn't dare to imagine... Rebekka led me through two large living areas out onto the terrace and Laisha and Nassri followed discreetly. The house décor was modern and very simple, almost minimalist, with clean lines and neutral shades of white, greys and pale ochres. Our heels clattered on the polished floors and echoed through the corridors. Outside was a large paved patio with breathtaking views across the river to the old city. Wide steps led down to a circular pool and secluded gardens. "Julia darling you are free to go anywhere in my home." Rebekka explained. "You can use both the pools (one of the Perfect Ones politely explained in her unidentifiable but alluring accent that there was another pool in the basement) as well as the gym and sauna. You can go through any door - unless of course it's locked - I trust you, Julia." She went on to apologise that she would be busy for the rest of the evening meeting her senior investment advisor and suggested that The Perfect Ones could serve me a simple meal on my private balcony. Laisha and Nassri smiled at me, and at Rebekka who kissed me warmly. My immaculate companions led me up a wide frosted glass staircase and took me to my 'room'. My jaw dropped as they showed me the sitting room, balcony, dressing room and bedroom. "We'll show you the bathroom later," Nassri added. My bags had already been unpacked and everything neatly hung and stored away. "Please, try to relax," Laisha suggested. "If you need any other clothes for the weekend, Miss Rebekka will buy them for you when you go out shopping tomorrow. She has something special planned." Nassri popped a champagne cork and filled one of the three glasses on her lacquer tray. I only looked at her briefly and she read my message instantly, filling the other two; but neither of them drank until I did. We chatted slightly awkwardly and I discovered they were from one of the small states north of Turkey. It seemed they had been trafficked to Europe when they were 15 but Rebekka had found them at the train station and spirited them away from their minders, giving them work and paying for their education. "We owe a lot to Rebekka and we repay her well in any way we can," Nassri explained. Laisha suggested I take a bath before my meal, which sounded ideal. The Perfect Ones excused themselves for a moment and slipped out through a door I hadn't noticed. Whilst they were gone I finished my fizz, kicked off my shoes and wandered onto the balcony where the early evening air was warm and filled with birdsong masking the distant hum of the city. I hadn't heard them return and was surprised when Laisha began to brush my hair while Nassri refilled our glasses. Not as surprised as when I looked round and saw they were now dressed in simple long white gowns that covered them from head to foot in delicate semi-sheer cotton. These wafted as they moved and allowed me to see only the outlines of the bodies they concealed, but I could just make out tantalising silhouettes of pert nipples. Naughty me. Nassri stood in front of me and asked, "Ready for your bath?" then began to undress me. Her fingers were long and slender and were adept at unfastening buttons, clips and hooks. Soon I stood in only my rather ordinary bra and panties, but Laisha sensitively and skilfully removed these too, unclipping my bra and peeling it off my 34C boobs before sliding my panties over my hips and effortlessly down my legs. I stepped out of them trying unsuccessfully to appear nonchalant and she returned to brushing my hair. Feeling like being naked in front of two fabulously attractive young women was as natural as breathing, I followed them into the bathroom. And oh my, what a bathroom! It was enormous, with a big sunken bathtub in the centre full of bubbles with rosepetals floating on top. Surrounding this was a wide area with dark wooden slats on the floor, a larger tiled area strewn generously with soft rugs, a wide marble counter-top with two hand basins and a long couch under the window. The air was filled with exotic aromas of spices and floral notes and soft jazz music played subtly from unseen speakers. Nassri guided me down two steps into the warm scented water and I sunk down under the soothing bubbles up to my neck. Laisha dipped in a toe, and for a moment I missed the cue then, realising where this was leading, invited them to join me. The Perfect Ones stepped down into the deep warm water, still wearing their thin cotton gowns, and slipped like two mythical nymphets into the sea of foam. Soon they began to wash me, running their soft hands along first my arms and legs then all over my upper body. Laisha spent several minutes lathering my boobs and relieved my embarrassment by commenting quite openly on the effect she was having on my nipples. When I rather cheekily lifted them out of the water with my hands cupped under my boobs she flicked my nipples with her manicured nails until they were hot and hard. Personal service indeed! I liked this. Nassri meanwhile had been soaping up a big natural sponge and plunged it into the water. She washed me all over, and yes I mean everywhere, meticulously reaching into every corner, fold, crease and crevice and making my whole body tingle. As we grew more comfortable with each other's company the three of us giggled like naïve girls, splashing each other, throwing handfuls of bubbles and ducking our heads under water as long as we could hold our breath. Yes it was silly and our hair was a mess, clinging to our faces and backs but we didn't care, we were having too much fun. But Laisha changed the mood entirely when without warning she slowly and gracefully rose, goddess-like, out of the water and stepped out of the tub. She stood facing me, illuminated by the warm evening sunlight and still in her gown, with rivulets of water cascading off her. The thin fabric was of course now almost transparent and it clung to her every curve. She looked amazing and I wanted to see her naked, and to touch her. Nassri reached up a hand and her friend helped her out of the tub. Again floods of water ran off her sheer clothing and it clung to her, faithfully outlining the enticing shape of her body. They watched me intently, as though they were gauging my reaction, and assessing whether I was entitled to be taken the next step. I left them in no doubt. From the way I was gazing at these two intimately-sheathed females they could tell exactly how aroused I had already become. They began to put on a show for me, standing side on and pirouetting, whilst I struggled to make out the sizes and shapes of their concealed breasts. Then, suddenly, Nassri pulled the other woman close to her and grasped the neck of her gown. "Is this what you want to see, Miss Julia?" she purred as she ripped it right down the front as far as her navel, then wrenched the torn edges of material wide apart. I didn't reply; I couldn't speak. The sound of the yielding fabric rung in my ears and I was shocked and awe-struck. Laisha's breasts were beautiful. Small but rounded, they sat firm and high on her ribcage, with cute little nipples perched right in the middle. I guessed at 32B, maybe only an A. "You like them?" their owner enquired almost rhetorically as she cupped her hands under them enticingly. I was still struggling to find the right words when Nassri knelt down and, taking hold again, ripped her friend's gown the rest of the way down to the floor. Laisha peeled the damp fabric off her arms and shoulders and wriggled out of the shredded soaked remnants to stand majestically in front of me. Now totally nude, she looked absolutely stunning. Her evenly-tanned skin was virtually unblemished, and completely hairless. Her underarms, her legs and every curve of her pussy were waxed, zapped or otherwise depilated leaving only perfectly smooth skin clearly on show. I complimented her on her fastidious attention to detail and she thanked me with a blown kiss then enquired "Would you like to do that to Nassri?" I could have died. I began to get up from my kneeling position in the tub but Nassri had a better idea: "Stay there - why not start from the bottom this time?" How could I turn down such an invitation. I grasped the delicate wet material and tugged. It ripped easily and in one movement I'd opened up a wide gash as far as the tops of her thighs. Standing up now, I pulled again and the tear reached within inches of her neckline. Nassri congratulated me and pulled the ruined gown off over her head with a flourish, then led me by the hand up the steps and onto the slatted wood to stand next to her. "You like my body too, Miss Julia?" she teased in her enticingly exotic accent, posing provocatively for me with one hip jauntily raised and her hands on her waist. Nassri's boobs were also small, but almost perfectly conical such that the shape of her much larger, dark and prominent areole and long suckable nipples continued almost uninterrupted from the natural points of her breasts. Luscious. As my eyes followed down her long lean body I concluded that Nassri's waist was even narrower than Laisha's though her hips were a little wider. Her skin was similarly perfect but, delightfully, she had left an exquisite long narrow triangle of rich black curly pubic hair. Both women stood tall on long, firm legs topped by cute, tight, rounded ass-cheeks and their feet were immaculately pedicured. How could you ever choose between them? I didn't need to. Oh yes, the only other distinguishing feature, to which Rebekka was no doubt alluding earlier, was that Nassri wore a large red ruby in her navel whereas Laisha's was filled with a clear blue sapphire. My eyes and brain were still in voyeur-meltdown when Laisha turned away momentarily and picked up a stack of huge soft white towels. We busied ourselves drying each other's bodies and towelling our hair. Nassri pulled my damp locks up on top of my head and secured them with combs and the girls pulled each other's back into rough ponytails that I thought quite suited them. We wrapped up in soft sumptuous bathrobes and Laisha excused herself, to return only moments later with a tray of chilled white wine and a big pot of hot coffee. We sat together on the long low couch and chatted as we drank. I complimented them on their beautiful bodies and thanked them for their sexy show. They both admitted to being exhibitionists at heart, and explained how much they enjoyed turning me on and how good it made them feel when they did. "I had noticed I was not the only one with erect nipples," I remarked, and they smiled. As the two Perfect Ones sipped the last of their wine they whispered to each other, occasionally glancing across at me, obviously plotting something. Then they stood up, each putting a hand on my shoulder to indicate I should stay seated. Laisha put their glasses down on the countertop whilst Nassri walked confidently across to the other side of the bathroom, selecting a large coloured glass bottle from amongst several on a shelf. She slowly and deliberately untied her bathrobe and slipped it off, then beckoned her friend over to her and removed hers too, peeling it back off her shoulders and down her slender arms. I sat motionless as I watched them pour some of the aromatic oil into the palms of their hands and begin to smooth it over each other's immaculate naked bodies. Alternately they massaged their partners' necks, their backs and all the way down the backs of their legs. Turning to face each other they smoothed more oil over their arms and shoulders then, tipping copious amounts direct from the bottle onto each other's skin they massaged their breasts and down to their firm flat abs, following the trickling trails of escaping oil right down their thighs all the way down to their ankles. Making sure I was watching her, Laisha turned her back to me and leaned over, giving me a thrilling view of her firm bum and a glimpse between her thighs of her smooth pussy and her opening slit. She ran her hand up the inside of Nassri's leg, brushing the back of her middle finger along her friend's pussy lips, repeating the process all the way up alternate legs and each time spending longer on her pussy, gradually working her finger deeper into her opening. Nassri moaned quietly, then gasped when Laisha turned her hand over, cupped her mound and slipped her middle finger deep into her vagina. She squirmed and rode the invading finger until Laisha withdrew it and ran it up through her black triangle of tight curls leaving a wet sticky trail. Then Nassri moved round to stand beside Laisha, thoughtfully not blocking my view, and poured some more oil into her palms. She reached under one of her partner's cute rounded boobs with one hand and slid her other between her parted legs. Nassri massaged Laisha's hairless pussy and pinched her small nipple, eliciting squeals of pleasure and deeper moans that confirmed her increasing arousal. From where I was sitting I could not see if Nassri had inserted any fingers in her partner's pussy, but there was no doubt when she moved her hand up between her bum cheeks and after mercilessly running the tip of her oily index finger around and around the pink puckered edge of Laisha's anus, she finally plunged it deep inside her, making her yell and squirm. I continued to watch them play, tease and massage each other sensually and provocatively. Their alluring bodies glistened wetly under the sparkling recessed overhead lights and they made purring sounds which confirmed their enjoyment. In fact, I was unsure whether this was another show for my benefit or whether the Perfect Ones were simply delighting in their own pleasure. Meanwhile I'd slipped a hand inside my bathrobe and was unconsciously pinching one of my nipples until Laisha startled me when spoke: "Miss Julia, we are ready for you know. Undress and come over here." I swallowed hard. Dropping the robe behind me and acutely aware of how horny I was now feeling, I picked my way over to where they were standing in their irresistible nudity. Laisha guided me to a position where I was directly facing her, with Nassri standing behind me. She poured oil onto my left breast, then my right, and I shuddered as I felt it drip off my erect nipples, run down my tense body and creep between my legs. Then Nassri took the bottle and poured what felt like a torrent of oil over my back. Some ran down the backs of my legs whilst the remainder invaded the crack between my bum cheeks. I felt liquid collecting between my thighs but I could not be sure whether this was oil, or my own juices oozing from my increasingly aroused pussy. I closed my eyes and waited in anticipation of the imminent sensual touch of four expert female hands on my skin, but gasped when instead I felt two warm slippery bodies press self-assuredly against mine. Initially Laisha and Nassri stood perfectly still, trapping me and allowing me to appreciate the wonderful yet simple pleasure of skin against skin. They then began to move, almost imperceptibly at first, and the sensations were incredible. Laisha made rotating movements with her upper body, rubbing her tangibly hard nipples over my slippery boobs and brushing them against my own aching nipples over and over again. I loved it; so did she, and our oily bodies made deliciously sex squelching sounds as they slithered and slapped together. She put her hands on my bum and pulled me against her, wedging her well-lubricated thigh between my legs and encouraging me to ride it whilst she pressed her pussy against me. Nassri meanwhile was gyrating her boobs against my back and nibbling my earlobes. I felt her take the combs from the top of my head then to my surprise she poured masses of oil all over my raven-black hair. Normally I'd have gone mad if anyone did that to me but I found the feeling of my mane sticking to my face and back as it cascaded down between our bodies to be incredibly sensual and erotic. Trusting Rebekka Ch. 02 Lost in a sea of sliding bodies and exploring hands, I did not feel it coming. My orgasm arrived gently, nothing like my usual rising crescendo and crashing release. Instead, I felt a beautiful wave of intense pleasure wash through me. It was so unexpected yet they made me feel safe and protected. I savoured the wonderful sensations of gentle release, unlike any orgasm I'd experienced before, followed by a warm satisfying wave of contentment. Fabulous. Nassri pressed her torso hard against my back, pinning me against Laisha who locked my gaze intently with her deep searching eyes. They held me like that until my feelings subsided and, and far from seeing it as a culmination, an ending or a result, to them it was merely a moment to be enjoyed on a continuing journey. Nassri released me when she was sure I was OK and would not fall without her support. She gently turned me to face her and kissed me passionately. Her lips tasted of the sweet nutty massage oil and her tongue searched out every corner of my mouth. Her hands roamed sensually over my body and toyed with my ultra-sensitive nipples making me moan and beg her not to stop. So focussed was I on the attention she was giving me, I did not notice Laisha reaching one hand around my waist and slipping it in between me and Nassri, nor the other hand that she slid down my abdomen and onto my pussy mound. Like hers, mine was smooth and hairless and she eased her fingers deftly over my bare oily skin until she had one finger buried between my swollen labial lips. And I only half noticed when she eased first one finger then two into my gaping vagina. Nassri held my attention with her kisses, soft words of encouragement, compliments on my body, my face, my kissing and my expressive sighs, as her accomplice fingered me to a second orgasm that also crept up on me stealth-like and washed subtly yet deliciously through my aroused body. I moaned quietly and sighed whilst the Perfect Ones' attentive hands continued uninterrupted. Laisha, still standing behind me, slid hers up to my breasts and focussed her attention on my throbbing hard nipples whilst Nassri crouched in front of me and looked up at me with those inviting, seductive brown eyes. Neither had spoken for a while; it had not been necessary, but Nassri now whispered three simple but very exciting words: "Open your legs." Unhesitatingly I shifted my feet apart and she placed one finger directly on my clit. I bucked my hips and she smiled. "You have a very beautiful pussy, Miss Julia, and your clitoris is so smooth and so hard. I think you like me," she giggled. I squirmed as she expertly brushed her finger up and down, around in circles and from side to side over my aching clit. I soaked up the incredible sensations between my legs and felt another climax rising in me. I threw my head back and tilted my pelvis up to meet her teasing touch and within moments a third, more powerful orgasm coursed through me. My legs buckled under me, but Laisha supported my weight until I regained my self-control, only for the attention she was still paying to my engorged, throbbing nipples, alternately brushing them with the palms of her hands then pinching, pulling and twisting them, to tip me over the edge into another even more intense orgasm even before the delicious warm sensations of my previous one had subsided. This time the girls allowed me to gently slide to the floor where I sat cross-legged with my head in my hands, bewildered by the erotic intensity of the evening so far, and a little scared by the powerful yet welcome effect my companions were having on me. Laisha noticed I was shivering. She helped me into a bathrobe and led me slowly over to the long low couch under the window. Nassri poured us coffees from the insulated pot and we sat for a while. Both girls constantly held and squeezed my hands, kissed my cheeks and helped me to describe my feelings and emotions. They shared their own thoughts on the unique beauty of passionate lovemaking between sensual women, even though they struggled to express themselves in what to them was still a foreign language. We had a few laughs when they sometimes used the wrong words, but they thanked me for my patience. Laisha stood up first and took my cup from me, remarking to her friend: "Hey, I'm feeling so horny, and seems like Miss Julia's been having all the fun so far!" and pulled her to her feet. They began to kiss and cuddle right in front of me, running their eager hands all over their tanned bodies. Soon they were in the floor wrapped in a torrid 69, their mouths exploring each other's pussies. Shocked by their intensity and easy intimacy I watched as their movements became more urgent, expecting them to build to simultaneous climaxes. This time they seemed genuinely to be lost in their own passion for a while, but Nassri pulled her face away from between Laisha's legs and looked across at me. "Miss Julia, Laisha's pussy tastes so good. You want to try?" I could see how engorged and very wet and inviting it was, but I protested I wasn't sure if I had the energy. Not willing to take 'No' for an answer, the girls stood up and Nassri helpfully lifted my legs up onto the couch so I could lay back along its generous length. Laisha positioned herself astride the top end and I looked up to see her immaculate, irresistible pussy directly above my face. Her labial lips were full and very pink and her slit was open and glistened wetly with her juices. My nostrils were filled with the unmistakable aroma of a woman in an advanced state of arousal; how she had managed not to cum even once so far that evening baffled me. She parted her legs wider and her tiny pink clit emerged from under its concealing hood. This I knew was going to be amazing. Laisha crouched down and planted her cunt directly on my mouth. Instinctively I darted out my tongue and lapped her juices, licking along first one lip then the other and savouring the delicious flavours of nature's gourmet lubricant. She tasted divine and I wanted to please her so badly. She steadied herself with her hands on her knees and rocked in perfect rhythm to my licking. Her movements grew more intense and controlled; I knew she was already desperate and must have been so, so close to cumming as it didn't take long. Almost immediately that I moved my tongue onto her clit she let go with a long low growl of pleasure and release. She dropped forward to grip the bench either side of my waist and her body shook as her climax took her over. She cried out repeatedly and I struggled to breathe as she ground her still-pulsing cunt into my face. I sucked her clit hard into my mouth to intensify every last moment of orgasm until she slid off me and sat back on the bench above my head, shaking. "Oh wow Miss Julia," she sighed, "You are so good!" She was being too kind. I think she'd have climaxed then even if I only so much as blew on her pussy. While Laisha collected herself I pushed up on my elbows to see what Nassri had been doing whilst I was busy. To my great delight I saw her standing watching us, one foot up on the bench, one hand holding a nipple and the other between her legs gently fingering her clit. Somehow I find it incredibly sexy when a woman watches me and masturbates when I'm making love. I don't quite know why, buy I love it. "Come here, Nassri, you don't need to do that, " I purred, filled with fresh energy and desire. "Let me taste you now; it's only fair." I wanted to tease her and please her. My mind was in overdrive again and my body was ready for more. Nassri smiled and reached down, slipping the knot of my bathrobe and letting it fall open. Her ruby sparkled as she straddled my waist and began to ride me. She grasped my boobs with an uncharacteristic urgency and her small breasts looked amazing when she leaned forward, their lovely firm conical shape becoming even more exaggerated. Her nipples were hard, and grew even longer when I pulled and fingerflicked them; I was in ecstacy again. "Don't make me wait, Miss Julia," she pleaded, "Make me cum like Laisha did. I need to, you have to release me." I was beginning to see a picture emerging. It was like they were testing me. My stamina, my style, my self-control and my love-skills. And I'd concluded it was against the rules for them to cum unless I made them or at least allowed them to. "Let me taste you, sweet Nassri," I purred again, "and give you what you want." I put my hands on her firm cheeks and drew her up so her pussy was over my chin. Hers was quite different to Laisha's. Larger and longer, with dark exotic inner labia which, whilst not particularly swollen, protruded invitingly well beyond her outer lips. I reached up one hand and dragged my nails through her long triangle of tight dark curls and she bucked when I used my finger and thumb to lift her clit hood. Uunderneath I found the secret of her oyster; an exceptionally large, smooth, round and deep pink pearl that just begged to be licked. Nassri grasped a convenient towel rail on the wall to steady herself. "Please Miss Julia, don't make me wait!" She lowered herself onto my mouth and I flicked her clit with my tongue. She gasped. I flicked her hard bud again and she reacted more strongly. Again and again I lapped at her pearl and we settled into a rhythm, each time the pitch and urgency of her response a little higher. I was becoming aware of my own growing feelings of excitement and through the mental fog of having an exotic, highly-aroused pussy right above me I realised that Laisha had buried her face between my legs and was now expertly licking my outer labia and teasing the insides of my thighs. The combination was incredible and I felt the start of another orgasm building in me. I stabbed more urgently at Nassri's clit and lapped along her fascinating dark lips. Reaching under her I plunged a finger into her vagina and it slid in easily. I added a second, then a third and she fucked down on my hand like she wanted to swallow it whole. Reaching around with my other hand I thumbed her clit in circles and she begged me not to stop. I felt my climax getting closer and ground my own aroused pussy onto Laisha's searching mouth. She expertly licked all along my engorged inner lips then began to probe between them, rhythmically stabbing deep into my hole with her long searching tongue. I felt her lapping my juices all along the length of my open, swollen, craving slit, then sucking my sensitive clit and making me buck and writhe. She was taking me higher and drawing me out longer than I thought I could stand. I found it hard to believe I could feel like this after what the Perfect Ones had already subjected me to, and wondered at how we women manage to find hidden inner energies when yet another orgasm beckons. The intense feeling in my cunt grew stronger and deeper; I felt so open, so debauched, so filthy, so slutty and so totally consumed by my desire for these two women, and I was loving every second. I was becoming frantic, even scared at my sheer wanton depravity. I knew I was going to cum very, very hard and I needed it to be soon. I concentrated, not wanting to lose focus on Nassri's needy pussy, but Laisha was driving me wild. I was truly desperate and she knew it, working every hidden crevice of my pussy and tormenting my twitching, aching, throbbing clit. I felt my climax build to that almost unattainable level of excitement, that ultimate excruciating peak where you think you will pass out if you don't cum that second, and Laisha knew exactly what she was doing to me. From the sounds Nasree was making I seemed to have her under the same control and she begged me plaintively to let her go. Then Laisha slipped a finger between my bum cheeks and dragged it down to touch my puckered anus. That was more than I could stand and I came instantly, which tipped Nassri over the edge too and the room was filled with the shouts and yells of two women cumming hard whilst a third added shockingly explicit words of encouragement. An incredibly powerful orgasm consumed me; my cunt pulsated and my legs shook uncontrollably. I wanted to scream and shout obscenities, but Nassri was grinding her pussy against my face and soaking me with floods of her delectable creamy cum juice. I gasped for breath and bucked my hips but Laisha pressed her hand down on my abdomen, which intensified the sensations and drove my long satisfying orgasm deeper into my body and filled my mind with wave after wave of incredible pleasure-rush. Nasree collapsed onto me and we held each other until the feelings subsided whilst Laisha gently soothed and calmed us. We held each other and kissed. We had no energy left for anything more. xxxxxxxxxx Sitting together, talking quietly about our amazing time we'd spent together and looking at our shattered selves in the mirrors, we agreed what we needed most was a long hot shower followed by something to eat and drink. We soaped and shampooed our wrecked hair and aching bodies in the huge glass walk-in monsoon shower and towelled each other dry. "I see why Rebekka calls you the 'Perfect Ones'," I mused as I dried Laisha's glossy legs. But she explained: "There is another reason too. Rebekka says we are very special, because both of us, we are- how to say it - we never had a man inside." I quizzed them about the time when they were trafficked and they seemed comfortable to talk about it. "No, even then no. Rebekka tells us we were lucky, because the evil men who brought us to this country planned to sell us, and we were worth much more if we were - how she says - 'undamaged'." "Yes, you are very lucky, and very special." Laisha threw on a robe and went to fetch my meal while Nassri apologised for pouring so much oil in my hair. It had not all washed out but she combed it through and told her not to worry as actually it had given it a nice rich sheen, and kissed her. She showed me where she had unpacked my purple silk cami set in the dressing room, helped me into it commenting on how soft it felt and adjusting the spaghetti shoulder straps. I put on my long silk kimono and she wrapped a fresh white uniform coatdress around her amazing body, quickly fastening the buttons down the front. I wondered if they were always naked under those coats, and I began to fantasise... Shortly Laisha returned with a huge tray of immaculately presented cold meats, fish and cheeses together with fresh fruit and tiny sweets. "We can leave you to eat alone if you like, beautiful Miss Julia," she suggested, which was exactly what I'd hoped, "or, we can stay, and feed you..." "No no, that's not necessary," I insisted, needing some time to myself to recover, and imagining exactly where being fed delicate morsels by these two goddesses would inevitably lead. Nassri pointed out the large fridge in the sitting area which was stocked with wines, champagne, beers, juices and soft drinks. "Help yourself, " she invited, going on the explain in her endearingly sexy accent; "We are here all the time, to look after you in every way, even during the night you can call us if you want us or anything at all. We do not mind if you wakes us up. We take care of you Miss Julia." They smiled at each other then me before kissing me on both cheeks and leaving through the unmarked door, adding: "there is a lock on your side of the door if you prefer private, but not on the our side." I sat out on the balcony watching the lights of the city and picking over the food, and the events of my first evening in Rebekka's house. I typed up some brief notes on my thoughts and feelings, recognising the possibility of a magazine article in the making. I did not need to record the events themselves; I was certain they would stay in my memory in intimate detail for some considerable time. I climbed into the huge bed, my soft silk sliding luxuriously between sumptuous Egyptian cotton sheets. Shopping tomorrow, apparently. I knew I had not locked that door and I drifted into a deep sleep with Rebekka's words in my ears: "Trust me." -------------------------------------- Well, how was that? Did you enjoy the story? Please leave your vote, and a comment if you would like to. I always respond to all contacts and feedbacks. Trusting Rebekka Ch. 03 Chapter 03 Hot Veronique ©Julia Gentile 2011 This story continues to explore my passion for beautiful women in highly charged sensual situations. It is part of a longer story and you will enjoy it more and understand the context better if you have read the previous chapters of Trusting Rebekka. There's more to come too; hope you like the drip-feed. I also hope you like my writing style. If you do, please vote and leave comments; private or public. I love to hear about what people like, it makes the whole writing experience far more rewarding. If you don't like this story, sorry but please look elsewhere for your pleasure. There's plenty on Literotica to suit all tastes. Love, Julia xxxxxxxxxx I always feel worse in the morning if I've slept solidly for hours and hours than if I've slept only a short time and know I need to get up early. So, when the sound of knocking on an unfamiliar door penetrated deep into my semi-consciousness I struggled to respond and to react appropriately. "Go away, I'm asleep!!" I complained, and buried my head under the soft goose-down pillows. Again, insistent knocking. A female voice invaded my personal silence. I looked around the room, puzzled, then my brain whirred into life. The room, the smells, the bed, my oily hair. It all clicked into place. I sat up and called out "Who wants me?" Rebekka breezed in uninvited and set a large tray on the side table, threw back the curtains and promptly climbed into bed next to me, uninvited. "I do," she purred, then in an annoyingly bright and cheerful voice she chirped: "but c'mon sweetie, it's 10:30 and you need some breakfast to restore your energy first." That confirmed what I suspected; she knew all about last night with the Perfect Ones. She reached across and poured two long coffees. I sipped mine and gradually rejoined the human race, looking at Rebekka next to me and reminding myself what a beautiful specimen of it she was. Propped up by several plump pillows and wearing a silk robe, an inviting smile and probably nothing else, she encouraged me to consume the delicious pastries, fruit, berries, yogurt and chocolate cake. "We have a busy day today," she explained, "Well, what's left of it. Some friends are joining us for a meal by the pool. They will arrive at 7. Then we are going out to a very select club in the city. Allowing time to get ready, and assuming you'll want to use the gym and sauna first, we need to be back from shopping around 3:30. So, sweet Julia, you have 30 more minutes more in bed then swoosh!" Wow, 'swoosh' indeed. Busy day. "So what exactly are we shopping for?" I enquired. "Since you had no idea what I had planned for you I doubt you brought the right clothes, so I'll treat you. In the pool, and on the terrace too, you'll just need a bikini, and perhaps a sarong?" It was already hot and sunny outside; I nodded approvingly. "We can buy them in the city. For later, how about a long clingy bias-cut dress, figure-hugging style? That will turn heads. I know the perfect shop, trust me." Sounded good. "Tomorrow we'll rest during the day, but in the evening we're having a small private party here. It'll be 1960s themed. There's a retro shop in the city centre where we can pick up an outfit for you." Then Rebekka dropped her voice, adding; "And of course, you'll need some nice lingerie." It seemed weird having my life and my wardrobe planned out for me. It all sounded good though. As I sucked on a strawberry I wondered who these friends might be, and if the Perfect Ones fitted in anywhere ... Rebekka stayed whilst I ate then kicked off the covers, commenting on my nightwear as she leaned across and kissed me, brushing her silk-covered breasts against mine and confirming: "It's going to be a very exciting couple of days ... see you in the hall at 11:30" and she wafted out of the room leaving a trail of exotic perfume, and me wondering what she actually looks like under her robe. xxxxxxxxx Rebekka introduced me to her driver Veronique in the hall and we chatted during the short drive. She could lend me some gym-wear, which meant one outfit less to buy, and she also offered to join me working out, which was kind. She dropped us in the main square and Rebekka 'swooshed' me around her favourite shops. Almost everywhere we went they knew her by name and we received masterclass levels of service. I soon had a complete 60s outfit consisting of a pink PVC miniskirt with a wide red leather belt, a pale grey sleeveless turtle-neck rib-knit clingy top, knee-high vintage boots with 4" heels and a wide-brim hat. 'Just add pink lipstick and ridiculously-long false eyelashes for the total look!' I also now possessed (as all this was mine to keep, apparently, courtesy of my wealthy and very generous hostess for the weekend - 'payback time?' did I hear myself asking?) a slender purple floor-length slinky dress that clung to me all the way from its strings-of-pearls almost-not-there shoulder straps, moulding to my boobs then clinging tightly down my body, staying ooooo-so-close to my hips and all the way down my legs. Except that it had a long slit all the way up the left side, from my new stilettos right up to top of my thigh. When I pointed out to Rebekka that everyone could see what style of panties I was wearing, what colour they were, and could probably read the label too, her solution was simple: "Well don't wear any then." So, that's no bra ... and no panties. Naturally. And when I walk - what then? Rebekka led me amongst small select boutiques down narrow streets and through bustling squares. We dived through a dark doorway that passing browsers would scarcely notice but which opened out into a veritable emporium of stunning lingerie, sleepwear and swimming costumes. Miranda, the owner, was probably in her fifties but still very glamorous. Rebekka explained what we were looking for and soon all 3 of us were locked in a large changing room with armfuls of bikinis, bras and panties. They had me naked in 60 seconds and I must have tried on a dozen or more sets, with both women admiring them and me with equal enthusiasm. I felt fairly relaxed about it all; Rebekka had seen me almost naked the previous week and after all, Miranda was a professional who saw nude female bodies for a living. Nice job, I mused. We left with two bikinis; one was quite sober and demure in plain black and left everything to the imagination. The other was made in a rich cream-coloured lycra, was the opposite of demure, and left almost nothing to the imagination. It also came with a matching coverall robe to temper its revealing yet classy design. Rebekka also bought me one of those retro burlesque corsets that squeezes your boobs into cones, two delectable ultra-sophisticated bra and pantie sets by one of the top Italian designer houses which that made me feel and look amazing, and one set just like Rebekka's 'Riot of Straps' but in silver. Not quite as slutty as it sounds, but not far off. Miranda was very attentive, and I got the impression she and my hostess were 'close friends'. Rebekka called Veronique and asked her wait another 30 minutes then bring the car to the coffee shop where she had first picked me up. It was only a short walk from Miranda's shop. We ordered double espressi and Rebekka introduced me to some friends there; a couple of them were going to be at the club that evening so she introduced us. "Martelle darling, come and say hello to Julia, she's my new discovery and she's coming out with us tonight." Martelle was model-thin and very, very tall even in flat sandals. She double-air-kissed me, whispering, "You'll enjoy tonight, promise." Her straight blonde hair was cut sharply into the back of her neck but left long at the front in a steep, well-defined wedge and the tendons of her neck and shoulders stood out prominently. In fact, everything about her was slender and highly-stressed, like a tightly-strung musical instrument. Rebekka also introduced me to a woman of black African origin whose family had obviously become partly Europeanised but she had maintained her smooth dark brown skin, prominent features and very full pouting lips. She had her tight curly black hair fixed up in a wheatsheaf bundle. "This is Gloria," Rebekka announced. "And you will always know when she walks into a room - everyone stops and looks," I could see why. Her figure was stunning, with firm large breasts very high on her ribcage and with the tightest curviest ass that you could ever hope to bump into. She knew how to show it off too, in a tight jumper, even tighter knee-length skirt and a wide belt around her narrow waist. She was wearing 4" heels with platforms but still could not compete with Martelle. The two women had an intense chemistry between them though and they communicated between themselves mostly by touch not words. We nibbled at snacks from the counter and babbled as a foursome about politics in art and fashion until Rebekka grabbed my arm, made our excuses and led me running with armfuls of expensive carrier bags to where Veronique had pulled up. xxxxxxxxx I was lying naked on my big soft sofa surrounded by my purchases, all of which I'd tried on again in private whilst looking in the mirror, which I love to do. It arouses me. My mind was filled with images of Miranda, Martelle and Gloria as I idly ran a fingertip over the smoothness of my bare pussy mound. The knock on the main door to my suite startled me. "Hold on, who is it?" I enquired. The muffled voice was Veronique's. I'd forgotten that I'd agreed to meet her at Rebekka's gym in the basement. I wrapped myself in the 'coverall' that matched the cream bikini, realising that name is a very misleading description of its limited abilities, and opened the door. She looked me up and down admiringly and remarked; "Wow, this is a lovely surprise. You look gorgeous; did you have a change of plan?" Having only seen her in her sensible driver's uniform, I too was stunned. Veronique's small but cute body was sheathed in tight blue lycra that finished at her knees and elbows and it appeared that she had nothing else on underneath. She had her hair up in a rough pile and even without makeup she was quite attractive. "Erm, no." I replied. "Sorry, I'd forgotten about the gym. "Did I shock you?" "Julia, nothing in this house shocks me any more," Veronique replied, smiling wryly. Then without warning she threw me a drawstring kitbag, giggled sweetly and promised not to peep if I changed in the bedroom. We chatted all the while we worked out; Veronique had an easy, likable personality and we got on well, talking about everything and nothing as we exercised in the small but well-equipped gym. Inevitably the subject drifted onto Rebekka. Veronique had worked for her for 2 years; "As well as driving I look after the management of the house itself. She has other staff including an excellent chef called Doritz who is not particularly attractive to look at but has a lot of other qualities." Veronique winked. We switched machines and she continued: "I know you've already met Rebekka's two Personal Assistants, Laisha and Nassri. Paula is the only other employee who lives here. I guess you'd call her the housemaid but that undersells her status and her skills. She's fun to be with. Then of course Rebekka has her business employees based in the company offices in the Embassy district. They sometimes come here for meetings and events. Only women, never any men." Veronique explained that Rebekka makes her money in export trade, commodities and investments. "She is very well connected, well known in the city and very popular. She has some unbelievably gorgeous friends who often come to stay here. You are extremely fortunate to be invited. Rebekka has seen something very special in you Julia. She likes you; she told me so. If you trust her and give her what she needs she will repay you in unimaginable ways." Feeling brave, I enquired exactly what Rebekka 'needs' were. Veronique put her finger to her moist lips. "I'm sure you will find out. She has very special sexual ... interests. She, well, likes to watch attractive women. I'll say no more." She changed the subject and asked me about my work as a journalist. Veronique made me feel relaxed and felt no qualms when she suggested we shower and dive in the sauna. Soon we'd peeled out of our damp lycra and were nude under the monsoon showers. Veronique's body was not exceptional in any particular way, just lovely to look at. Her hips were narrow, her waist was quite straight and her legs were neither especially short nor long. Her boobs were her best feature, being perfectly natural, average size and whilst not exactly droopy, they had a nice sway when she moved. I was getting turned on watching her soaping and rinsing herself and my nipples showed it; Veronique must have noticed. Calm and controlled as ever, she complimented me politely on my body as we towelled off. But then, standing naked in front of me, she ran her finger all the way down my arm and the back of my hand. A shudder rippled through me and she smiled. She adopted a coy, sexy pose, squeezed my hand, looked straight at me and simply said: "I like you, Julia," then led me to the small sauna. The atmosphere between us was becoming increasingly erotic and when I picked up a towel on the way and began to wrap it around me she stopped me, confirming: "You won't need that." After about 10 minutes in the heat Veronique realised I was staring at her, mesmerised. Her olive skin was smooth and very tanned all over and now thousands of tiny beads of perspiration had broken out and clung to her, sparkling under the single spotlight. I was captivated, and becoming very aroused. "Oh, yes," she commented, "You like that? I have very oily skin. The sweat doesn't run off me." I paused for a second, unsure if she was ready for my suggestion, and unsure whether Veronique was Rebekka's private property - out of bounds - unattainable - forbidden fruit. I looked into her big brown eyes. She didn't look away; we locked our gaze. The atmosphere was hotter than the pine bench I was sitting on. I was naked, horny and about to take a big risk. "I could lick it off." I watched for a reaction. Something. Anything! Or would she just slap me. How could she stay so cool in the heat of the sauna? "Be my guest," she replied. Neither of us blinked. My heart raced. She smiled, and invitingly held up one arm. I took her hand and, still looking up at her alluring eyes, began to lick her smooth forearm. I tasted her saltiness and it was like drinking at an oasis in the desert. She made encouraging noises and the tension eased a little, but I was hot for her now in every sense and licked all the way up her arm, over her shoulder and up the side of her neck. I did the same on her other arm. Then I knelt between her feet, put my hands on her waist and moved so my face was directly in front of hers. Sweat was running down me, exaggerating every sensation on my hypersensitive skin. My breathing was deep and irregular. I wanted her. Badly. I was certain she would be able to smell the scent of my excited pussy in such a confined space. I didn't care. She kissed me. A long intense passionate kiss. She tasted delicious and we made wet sucking noises as our lips pressed and pouted and our tongues fought and probed. We came up for air. "Lick me again, Julia," Veronique whispered in my ear. "Lick me everywhere." Suddenly her hands were all over my body and we pressed together urgently in the heat. We slid over each other in a torrent of perspiration and her skin felt incredibly soft against mine. "Lie down," she suggested, and soon one of her delectable cute boobs was swaying directly above my mouth. "Lick me, Julia," she repeated and lowered her small but perfectly-formed pink nipple onto my impatient tongue. At the same time she clamped her eager mouth over my erect nipple and I was in ecstasy. We licked and lapped, sucked and nibbled. Her hands were everywhere, constantly rubbing my ass, my hips and thighs and her mouth was exploring all over my lower body. I moved down until my lips were kissing her firm abs. I was so horny for her and wanted to taste her smooth pussy, but Veronique sat up and pushed me away. "Fuck this Julia I'm burning up in here!" she exclaimed, dragged me out of the sauna by the arm and under the shower. We pressed our excited bodies together under the sudden deluge of cold water and Veronique dug her fingers into my drenched hair, pulling my face to her and kissing me wildly. We wedged our thighs between each other's legs and rode, humped and gyrated urgently. Out of control I pulled her by both wrists back into the exercise room and, still dripping wet, we fell onto a big floor mat. Our hands explored our bodies and Veronique grabbed at my boobs. "Your tits are fucking gorgeous Julia," she growled, casting off any tattered remains of her cool, controlled exterior. She sucked a nipple hard into her mouth, biting it and making me shout in delicious pleasure-pain. Still pumped up from the workout we were like animals, rolling on the padded floor. Soon I was flat on my back, knees bent and as wide apart as I could force them whilst Veronique plunged her fingers into my welcoming vagina. First one, then two then three; my pussy was so wet and open so they slid in easily. She then clit-frigged me with the tip of her thumb and reached up to pinch my erect nipple between the finger and thumb of her free hand. Gradually she pinched harder, digging her nail into my throbbing nipple but the feelings were so intensely sexual that I didn't feel pain, only a growing need to cum. I lay back with my arms stretched wide, flat on the mat, looking at Veronique kneeling beside me with beads of perspiration standing proud on her amazing skin, her cute boobs swaying as she moved in time to her finger-fucking my swollen pussy. "Let me lick you again, please!" I pleaded, expecting a smooth salty arm or leg to lap and taste. But Veronique had another idea. She swivelled around and knelt astride my ears so her shins pinned my arms down on the mat. Still fingering me, she squatted back and planted her aromatic pussy right on my face, growling, "Lick that, you sexy bitch" and pinching my other nipple until I screamed. "Don't worry Julia, it's all sound-proofed down here," she assured me with a wicked laugh, then dug her thumbnail in even harder. I licked her bitter juices from her lovely small pussy lips and tongue-fucked her as she repeatedly rocked her hips above my face. My orgasm was getting closer and Veronique increased the pace of her thumb-frigging on my clit. She shifted position slightly so I could suck and lick her sweet bud and she let me know exactly what effect I was having on her in an unbroken tirade of expressives and expletives: "Of fuck yes Julia yes yes do it more oh god yes lick me lick my clit yes fuck me Julia fuck my cunt suck me ohhh fucking shit you are so good ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod yes yes suck my clit yes lick me lick it yes just there more more more ohhhhhh yesssssssssssssssss" and she slammed her hot pulsing pussy down on my face as she climaxed. She broke the rhythm on my clit only briefly whilst her orgasm consumed her then, kindly remembering to move so I could breathe again, she resumed her fingering and frigging whilst grinding her trim tummy against my flattened boobs. Pinned down from the waist up and at her mercy, I lifted my legs high in the air and spread them wide apart giving her easy access to my swollen gaping slit. "Oh my god Julia you look amazing, I want to climb inside your cunt and get swallowed up in your deliciously sexy body." My pussy was so open it seemed that might be possible. Finally my orgasm took hold and I bucked and writhed under her, closing my legs and clamping her hand against my throbbing climaxing pussy. Trusting Rebekka Ch. 03 We collapsed in a sweaty panting heap, laughing from the emotional release and kissing softly for a while. We towelled each other down and wiped the worst of our wetness from the mat. Suddenly Veronique jumped up, exclaiming, "Oh fuck fuck fuck look at the clock!" It was already 6 pm. "I'm supposed to be helping to serve, and you're supposed to be their special guest pool-side. You need to get ready." I too had lost track of time. We both grabbed robes and headed off in different directions, but not before Veronique had kissed me passionately and told me: "You were amazing, Julia. Thanks for a great fuck. Hope we can do that again." -------------------------------------- Well, how was that? Did you enjoy the story? If so, please leave your vote, and a comment if you would like to. I always respond to all contacts and feedbacks. Trusting Rebekka Ch. 04 ©Julia Gentile 2012 This story continues to explore my passion for beautiful women in highly charged sensual situations. It is part of a longer story and you will enjoy it more and understand the context better if you have read the previous chapters of Trusting Rebekka. There's more to come too; hope you like the drip-feed. I also hope you like my writing style. If you do, please vote and leave comments; private or public. I love to hear about what people like, it makes the whole writing experience far more rewarding. If you don't like this story, sorry but please look elsewhere for your pleasure. There's plenty on Literotica to suit all tastes. Love, Julia xxxxxxxxxx Back in my suite I quickly showered and tidied my hair, but any woman with half of Rebekka's powers of perception would know what I'd just been doing. I thought about clothes. 'Bikini' I'd been told. I looked outside and the gardens were flooded in warm late afternoon sunlight. I was still feeling sexed up so I slipped into the cream lycra one and looked at myself in the mirror. The top was basically a bandeau, with a halter strap that clipped to a scrunch in the front. My still-hard nipples were obvious as they poked peaks in the fabric and though I pulled the material down to try to cover my boobs as best I could, as soon as I moved it rode up and left large expanses of soft curvy breast exposed. The bottoms similarly did little to cover my ass, creeping into my bum crack as I walked, and working into my pussy slit showing a visible crease. My reflection shouted 'sophisticated-slutty' - which was just as it looked in the shop. No doubt just what the designer intended, and exactly the effect Rebekka was looking for when she chose it. I could live with that, but in the interests of decency I wrapped the matching coverall around me, slipped on a pair of mules, clattered down the glass stairs and out onto the terrace. As I rounded the corner, three female faces turned to watch as I walked the short distance to where they were sitting at a poolside table. Rebekka's was the only one I recognised. Instinctively I broke into my best hip-sway runway walk, placing one high-heeled shoe meticulously in front of the other and sashaying towards them. The two strangers watched intently and whispered to each other behind their hands as I approached. I felt good about myself and noticed my nipples react to all the attention. "See what I mean?" Rebekka remarked and, realising I was getting off on being watched, I strutted to the edge of the pool and back, untying my coverall, slipping it off and trailing it across the marble slabs behind me. The three women stood and applauded politely and Rebekka introduced me to them. "Julia darling, great to see so much of you! Come and meet my friends Carinne and Petrella." We made some small talk and spoke some body language. Carinne had masses of curly blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She had a small round face with unexceptional bone structure but her skilfully-applied makeup accentuated her best features including her small but bright blue eyes. She was wearing a clingy lilac halterneck bikini and it was obvious her body was anything but unexceptional, with small round breasts, a tiny waist and narrow hips topping off her lean legs. She carried no excess weight at all but certainly wasn't skinny. She looked delicate, but not fragile. She remarked; "I see you like to show off, Julia, (had I overdone the slut-walk?) ... I can see why Rebekka likes you so much." "She does?" I responded, feigning nonchalance. "Julia, listen," Petrella added, "She hasn't stopped talking about you since she first seduced you! She does like to look at attractive women, don't you Bek!" For the first time I saw Rebekka looking awkward. She seemed embarrassed, at a disadvantage and without her usual air of self-assuredness. Interesting. Petrella was quite different from Carinne. Taller, more strongly built, with accentuated arm and leg muscles and an almost masculine face. But not butch at all; in fact she was a very attractive woman. The word 'imposing' came to mind. She was wearing a tight-fitting one-piece swimsuit in deep metallic bronze with alluring cut-outs in strategic places. 'Predatory', I mused, as we admired each other and exchanged smiles and more smalltalk. Glancing across at Rebekka she appeared to have been sidelined, but she acted the gracious hostess with dignity even when she was further upstaged by the distracting arrival of the Perfect Ones. Laisha and Nassri appeared with more drinks, looking as perfect as ever, crouching gracefully to put their trays on the table then standing either side of Rebekka. They were both wearing their short white uniform coatdresses and again I pondered whether they were wearing anything under them, and if we would find out later. I needn't have worried. The four of us sat and chatted about everything, and nothing in particular, but as soon as the two girls had poured us exotic iced drinks containing far more fruit than liquid, they tottered on their impossibly high heels to the edge of the pool. Facing each other, but regularly looking across to where we were sitting around the polished granite table, they began to slowly and very deliberately unfasten each other's dresses. Unbuckling the wide belts around their narrow waists then, in perfect synchronisation, slipping each button with adept manicured fingers, starting from bottom and moving rhythmically up to the top. Then Laisha turned to face us, the narrow opening down the front of her dress giving us only a tantalising glimpse of what delights lay hidden. She posed and teased us for a moment as we protested, feigning disapproval whilst thoroughly enjoying being tortured by the suspended expectation. Soon Nassri moved behind her reached over her shoulders and grasped the lapels of Laisha's dress. She gradually eased it open at the front and slid it down her arms to reveal a tiny white bikini of the sort for which you 'pay more and get less'. Laisha's miniscule costume consisted only of a few narrow straps that just about held together three tiny scraps of semi-sheer fabric. Two (almost) hid her nipples and one, if it covered anything at all, it would be only her clit and labia and very little else. Her appreciative audience applauded as she paraded around our table before returning to her place with her back to the pool. But this time her partner in this erotic performance was facing her. Nassri stood with her back to us and her feet slightly apart as Laisha returned the compliment, taking hold of the lapels of her coatdress and parting it down its front opening. The difference was that this time we could not see what she was, or was not, wearing under it. Well, not until her accomplice pushed it back off her lean shoulders and all the way down her slender arms. We all gasped when we saw her back; smooth, taut and almost naked but for a few white twisted cords knotted together between her shoulder blades and on her hip-bones. Her tight rounded bum cheeks looked amazing from where I sat but Petrella whooped in protest, insisting that the beauty turn around to show off what she was hiding. After a few coy glances over her shoulder and some whispered words of encouragement from Laisha, Nassri pirouetted on her white platforms to face her assembled group of admirers. We could now see Nassri's bikini in all its seductive minisculity. It's two narrow triangles of semi-transparent white fabric, which moulded tightly around her conical boobs and did not even attempt to conceal her nipples, were held together with cords that wrapped around her ribcage and over her shoulders. Her bikini bottoms consisted of two more similarly sheer and clingy triangles, held precariously in place by more soft cords knotted on her hip-bones. One which similarly failed to cover her ass and one at the front that did its best to hide her trimmed pubes, but little else. She saw me admiring her and briefly struck her provocative hands-on-hips pose and pouted me a wet blown kiss. That's when I realised I had my hand over my left breast and I was absent-mindedly squeezing it through the thin fabric of my bikini top. I took my hand away but Laisha just smiled and encouraged me to carry on: "Don't be shy, it's why we're all here, right?" and she made a sweep of her hand around her audience. I glanced at Petrella sitting next to me and she also had one hand on her boob. She was unashamedly pinching and rolling her nipples making them poke hard and proudly through her swimsuit. She saw me watching and licked her lips and winked. She also nodded in the direction of Petrella who had one hand on the table but her other was buried between her legs. She had her eyes half closed and didn't notice me watching as she made rhythmic circles on the prominent mound beneath her scanty lilac bikini bottoms. I wasn't able to see what Rebekka had been doing but it must have been bad! Nassri strode up to her and took hold of both her forearms, holding them tightly. Laisha picked up the belts from their coatdresses from where they lay discarded by the pool and to my amazement, she and Nassri used them to tightly bind Rebekka's wrists to the arms of the heavy wrought-iron chair on which she was sitting. Rebekka did not struggle nor object. In fact, she seemed to enjoy being restrained and she made only token noises of protest and indignation. Nassri wagged a slender finger left-and-right at her employer. Then realising I was watching with incredulity, Laisha explained in her seductive accent: "Rebekka, she say us: Not letting her touching, only watching. Rebekka, she likes watch sexygirls, yes?" whereupon the two Perfect Ones started to perform what I can only describe as a highly-charged and supremely erotic lap-dance. Carinne and Petrella both smiled when they saw the curious look on my face, but they both appeared quite relaxed about the whole thing, as though this was quite normal. This all began to make sense. Masturbating me in the art gallery in front of all those people. Buying me sexy clothes to wear. Her stunningly beautiful house. Surrounding herself with the even more stunningly beautiful women. Yes, Rebekka is an aesthete and a voyeur. She likes to watch, and she can afford to indulge her pleasures and passions by buying whatever and whomever she chooses. In a way she'd bought me, but I was having such an amazing time, why not repay her with a little fun and entertainment? Rebekka is a voyeur of the highest order, and I'm an exhibitionist at heart. A perfect match, I mused. Rebekka tugged at the belts around her wrists, but from the way she watched the girls' performance, she was loving every moment. They posed and pouted and pirouetted and gyrated in front of us. Their bodies, their expressions, their movements and their gestures all shouted 'fuck me', which no doubt was exactly what Rebekka wanted to do. But she couldn't. All she could do was to sit. And watch. Carinne winked knowingly at me and Laisha turned up the volume of the concealed music system. Petrella stood up and took my hand and, feeling increasingly aroused by Rebekka's self-imposed captivity, I stood too and joined in with the sensual rhythms. Petrella, Carinne and I began swaying together and matching the other girls' expert and intensely sexual performance. Soon we were touching and caressing each other's faces and bodies; my nipples were rock hard and obvious under my bikini top and I could feel my pussy engorging and flooding with my sex juices. The more aroused I became, the more erotically I danced. I could see that Petrella's nipples were at least as erect as mine. She saw me watching hers and began to play with them through her swimsuit, then reached forward to pinch mine, rolling and teasing them until they throbbed and ached. I put my hands on Petrella's boobs, squeezing and rubbing them through her suit, feeling her hard nipples against my palms. Carinne was now standing behind me and reached around my hips, caressing my abdomen and grinding her pelvis against my bum. Then she moved her hand down to my bikini bottoms, cupping it over my pussy mound and making delicious circular movements over my clit. I was so turned on, and I knew it was mostly because I was being watched. I moved my hands down to Petrella's bum and began kneading her firm cheeks. She kissed me passionately on the lips whilst Carinne nibbled the side of my neck and gyrated her slim body against my back. Then we swapped positions, with Carinne facing me and Petrella behind her, sandwiching her slender body between us. Carinne's tongue invaded every corner of my mouth and her hands were all over me, sometimes sensually brushing over my bare skin, then urgently grabbing at my breasts and my bum, sliding her hands inside my bikini bottoms and pulling me hard against her, driving her pelvis into my pussy mound and humping against me. Petrella had her hands over my boobs now and was massaging them until I thought my nipples would cut through the material of my top, they were so hard. I would have quite happily let them pleasure me right there in front of the other women. In fact, I would have adored having them watch me being stripped naked and fingered, fucked, licked and sucked to a massive climax that I knew was bubbling up only just below the surface. I looked across at Rebekka. Her face and body streamed with perspiration and her hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks. Her mouth was open and her eyes were glazed and dreamy. She had her legs spread wide apart and a huge dark, damp patch on her bikini bottoms told its own story. The certain knowledge that she was getting off on watching me and was probably as close to orgasm as I was thrilled and excited me. But knowing I could cum whenever I wanted to but she couldn't aroused me so much more, especially as I knew that was what she wanted too. I felt horny, selfish, slutty, wild and wicked, and I was loving every moment. I had just reached around Carinne's narrow back to find the clasp of her bikini top when the intensely erotic atmosphere was shattered by the clatter of heels on marble and Veronique's voice announcing that the meal was ready. Veronique and another woman arrived wearing figure-hugging ultra-short strapless dresses and carrying large trays of exotic food and drinks. The peace was further shattered as Nassri and Laisha screamed and dived into the pool together. "Come and join in us, get some cooling-off!" Laisha called out in her version of English. "You all ladies are too hot!" (she was right about that, for sure) as they emerged from the water like legendary watergoddesses. Their white bikinis were now virtually transparent and clung closely to every intimate feature of their incredible bodies. Not that they had hidden much even when they were dry. Their nipples and pussy slits were clearly visible and no doubt this was entirely intentional; they paraded past Rebekka and bent down to pick up their towels giving her (but sadly not me) a full view of their asses and no doubt their barely-concealed mounds. I thought about diving into the inviting water but knew that would extinguish my pent-up passion so I decided to sit and simmer as the delectable Veronique placed some equally-delectable morsels on the table where Petrella and I were now sitting. Veronique leaned forward and whispered in my ear: "I'd rather be eating you." and laid plates of delicate fish dishes and exquisitely prepared seafood on the large marble table. I pouted a kiss at her; Rebekka noticed, and tugged at her restraints. Veronique got the message and casually released the belts around her arms. Rebekka rubbed the life back into her limbs but otherwise made no reference to her ordeal. She didn't even put a hand between her legs, presumably also wanting the feelings to simmer gently rather than be brought to a head. And everyone else carried on as though this was normal. I assumed it was, and tried to ignore my state of horniness for a while. The fourth woman was introduced to me as one of the city's best female private chefs. Ah yes, Natalie. Plain. Not ugly. Not pretty. But in most ways just ordinary. Average height, brown hair, pale skin, unremarkable legs. Unremarkable everything really. Except ... her very remarkable breasts. Oh wow. I looked across at Veronique who earlier had mentioned her 'other qualities', which I had taken to mean her culinary skills. She smiled back at me, knowingly. Natalie was wearing a white close-fitting dress similar to Veronique's, and she had left several buttons undone at the front. She was obviously wearing a bra underneath, but her breasts were ... well: incredible, magnificent, impossible to ignore and, erm, huge. I could only guess at 36G. And firm too, judging by the stupendous curvy cleavage she was displaying. She saw me ogling. I apologised, but she said: "Don't worry about it. I like the attention. Anyway, they've been a part of my life since I was 14 so I'm used to it. At least I never have to pay for my own drinks," she joked, adding, "and before you ask, yes they are real. 100% home made. Like this meal." This last remark cleverly defused the situation and all 8 of us sat around the big table to eat a delicious and imaginative array of hot and cold dishes with premier cru wines followed by desserts to die for. We talked together for a while like good friends, about religion and politics, about food and clothes and shoes, but no-one mentioned sex or hedonism or exhibitionism. But the body language followed a different agenda, and roving admiring eyes gave away our inner intentions and desires. Desires that I hoped would be fulfilled as the evening unfolded. We were going to a club, if I recalled correctly, and I had slinky new dress to wear. With nothing underneath. -------------------------------------- Well, how was that? Did you enjoy the story? If so, please leave your vote, and a comment if you would like to. I always respond to all contacts and feedbacks.