Midnight Girls (54 page)

What are the rules?
she wondered. Then rebuked herself.
Don’t be an idiot. There won’t be any
. Already energised by champagne and coke, she was tickled and a little excited at the thought of what lay in store.
As long as it’s Xander, I’m happy
. She looked over to where he was sitting. The blonde next to him was cooing over his cock ring, and saying how much she loved the little buzzing device, while the brunette on his other side was making much of downing her pill with a gulp of Dom Pérignon.

He looked over at her and raised one eyebrow, a smile playing about his lips.
Isn’t this an amusing game?
he seemed to be saying.
But I’d rather be with you
…

It was no surprise that the whole dinner followed the black theme: black-clad waiters brought in a black soup, melba toast and more caviar. The main course had been doctored with food colouring and in the dim candlelight it was very hard to see what anything was, but Imogen thought she detected mashed potato and some kind of roast bird as well as vegetables. Pudding was a magnificent black pavlova, the whipped cream like a dark silk pillow on the crisp base, decorated with blackberries.

After pudding, coffee and dark chocolate were brought round, and finally the port was passed along with black-rinded cheeses and charcoal biscuits. The liberal amounts of wine, cocaine and pills had their effect throughout the meal. The conversation was loud and manic, punctuated with roars of laughter. Imogen talked to Piers on one side of her and to Robin who was on her other, and they kept her amused. She kept one eye on Xander all the time, though, feeling ripples of jealousy whenever he talked to the beauties on either side of him.
I’m not letting anyone else have
him
, she told herself firmly.
He’s mine tonight
.

‘And now!’ Piers roared suddenly. He pushed away his coffee cup and wine glasses, clearing a space in front of him. ‘Let’s get the party started!’

Someone must have been listening for this cue. The room suddenly filled with pounding rock music, thudding and urgent. Piers climbed up on his chair and then on to the table as the other diners whooped, cheered and clapped. Dancing clumsily in time to the music, he took off his dinner jacket and threw it to the floor, then undid his bow tie, whipped it round a few times and tossed it to one of the women.

Imogen stared up at the gyrating Piers, laughing and clapping.
Oh my God, he’s going to strip!

But then he unbuttoned his shirt, opened it, and revealed not his naked skin but a black corset laced tightly up his back so that little folds of fat had gathered at the front that looked like tiny breasts with a mass of curly hair between them. As the room full of people screamed with delight, he dropped his trousers; underneath he was wearing black silk knickers which bulged outwards and his corset was attached by ribbons to a pair of fishnet tights that showed off his surprisingly shapely legs. He’d already taken his shoes off, so now he stepped easily out of his trousers, kicked them away and began to do a kind of pole-dance routine, writhing and rubbing himself all over.

‘Hello, darling,’ said Robin, on Imogen’s other side. He leant over and kissed her on the lips, pushing his tongue between them and rolling it inside her mouth before she’d realised what was going on. She pulled away and said lightly, ‘Hello, yourself.’

All round the table, people had obviously taken Piers’ routine as the signal to get going: some neighbours were kissing passionately; one man leant back and looked on
appreciatively
as the girls to either side of him started snogging fiercely, flicking their tongues in and out of each other’s mouths so that their observer could see precisely what they were doing. One of the girls next to Xander was plucking at his buttons, undoing his shirt, while murmuring appreciatively.

It was as though some extraordinary spirit of indiscriminate lust had possessed everyone instantly and they were powerless to resist it. A girl was already almost naked, two men stripping her off hungrily as she giggled and pushed her breasts together and rubbing them sensuously with her hands.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ breathed Robin, his eyes glassy with lust. He put his hand on Imogen’s breast and dipped a finger into her bodice, tweaking a nipple. ‘I want to suck your tits …’

‘You’ll have to get in line, Robin,’ drawled Xander, suddenly appearing next to him and taking his hand firmly out of the front of Imogen’s dress. ‘But why not go and see Bebe and Josephine? They want to play.’ He gestured over at the girls he had been sitting next to. Robin got up happily and went to join them.

Imogen glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling. She stood up as he took her hand. ‘I thought you’d never get here.’

‘Unavoidably detained.’ He grinned, looking down at his unbuttoned shirt, then pulled her close to him. She savoured his scent, inhaling it and trembling with desire for him.

‘I don’t think I’m all that keen on having sex with Robin,’ she whispered.

‘I’d be very offended if you did,’ said Xander with a laugh. ‘I want you all to myself.’ He put his arms round her and kissed her, pressing her lips open with his until they were kissing properly. Then he pulled away, leaving her breathless and dizzy. ‘Shall we go somewhere a little more
private
?’ he said, his eyes glittering.

She nodded. All around them was movement and activity. Some people had moved over to the cushions laid out on the floor. Robin was already lying there, his face slack with lust as Xander’s brunette pulled out his cock and began to lick and suck it. Another man was already pushing the dildo up under the skirt and between the legs of a woman who held the vibrating toy to her nipples, watching as they stiffened under its touch.

The two men had finished stripping the girl naked and had laid her out on the dining room table, her legs splayed over the edge. One had already buried his face in her mound while the other was kissing her and caressing her breasts.

Everywhere Imogen looked people were kissing and licking and stroking, in all combinations and in various states of undress. Their lack of inhibition was liberating; she felt bubbles of lust climbing inside her. ‘Let’s go somewhere, quickly,’ she said, fired up, desperate to have Xander.

He understood, took her hand and led her through a pair of double doors into a smaller room, also covered in cushions. He shut the doors behind them, closing them off from the dining room and plunging them into darkness.

‘Imogen,’ he said, his voice hoarse and cracked with desire. He pulled her into his arms and they kissed hungrily, as though they couldn’t get enough of each other. Then they were stripping each other’s clothes off as quickly as they could, fired up by the sight of the activity in the dining room. She pushed off her dress and stepped out of it, her breathing short and her pulse racing. Xander took her right nipple into his mouth, pulling and tickling it with his tongue as he pushed her down on to the floor. He was naked now, pressing his body against hers, murmuring softly as his hands ran over her hips and stomach.

She lay back, arching her neck as he moved down her
body
, kissing and licking her stomach, till he reached her knickers. He pushed his face into the soft silk, inhaling her as he caressed her thighs, and then he gently pulled them off, pushing them down her legs and exposing her small dark bush. He breathed lightly on it, tickling it unbearably and making her gasp. Every nerve ending was straining; she longed to feel him touch her but he made her wait, as her pussy throbbed and ached. Then, he dropped his mouth to her and began to lick and nip at its soft folds and the bud that was already stiff and proud. The sensation was almost unbearable: smooth waves of delicious pleasure mixed with the tingle of electricity as his soft tongue touched her most sensitive place.

‘Please … let me …’ she gasped, desperate to touch him, to return some of the exquisite feelings he was giving her. He understood, and shifted so that she could reach for his prick. She seized its shaft, hot and hard in her hand, and flicked her tongue over it. Then she took it in, rolling the tip of his smooth penis round her mouth, moving up and down the shaft and tickling the end with her tongue as she played with his balls, stroking and moving them in their sac.

They spent long minutes sucking and teasing each other, drawing out the pleasure, making their nerves taut and responsive to every touch. She ran a fingernail around the sensitive area behind his balls and then up to the tight hole of his bum, which made him quiver and moan. As he took the whole of her clitoris into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, sweetly and deftly, he pushed a finger up inside her, then two, moving them hard, though all she wanted was for him to go faster and harder, and she lifted her hips to meet his hand.

She gasped, taking her mouth away from his cock, feeling it hot and hard against her cheek. The next moment, he’d turned round, pushed her thighs apart and was plunging
down
, ramming it into her. She spread herself as open as she could, revelling in the feeling of his penis hard in her depths. They fucked fast for several minutes before he pulled out of her. She turned round and raised herself up on all fours so that he could re-enter her, this time from behind. He knelt there, one arm round her belly, his fingers deep in her bush, twiddling with her maddened clit, while he stroked his cock in and out, forcing a gasp from her every time he hit home, ramming the head of his prick against her womb.

When she could bear the excitement no longer, she pulled free, turned round and lay back for him to enter her from the front again. Now he knew what she wanted, grinding his pubic bone against her, pushing her ever closer to her climax as he thrust in and out.

‘Oh, Xander,’ she cried, digging her nails into his back as the waves of pleasure began to radiate out from her hot and swollen pussy. ‘Oh, Xander …’

‘Come on, come for me,’ he murmured, thrusting harder.

She began to cry out as the orgasm possessed her, racked her with shudders of pleasure and then gushed out of her. Just as her cries subsided, his began, and he bucked and arched on top of her as he climaxed deep inside, spurting out his own orgasm to meet hers.

Then they collapsed together, panting and laughing.

‘Better than a stupid old orgy any day,’ Imogen said with a giggle, wrapping her arms around him.

‘Fuck, yes,’ Xander said. He kissed her.

She yawned. ‘I’m so tired now.’ She smiled at him and sighed happily. ‘In a good way.’

‘Come on, then. There’s a lovely cosy bed upstairs just for us. Let’s snuggle up there and go to sleep.’ He kissed her again. ‘Thank you, Imogen.’

‘What for?’ she asked, luxuriating in her post-coital bliss.

‘For everything.’

*

When she woke up, it was just after dawn and the bedroom was cold and grey. She was alone in the bed.

‘Xander?’ she asked, sitting up and looking about. They had sneaked through the dining room with its mass of writhing bodies and found this room the night before. They had fallen asleep wrapped in each other’s arms but now Imogen was on her own. She got out of bed, feeling woozy with her nascent hangover, and pulled on her dress. Outside the sky was a translucent pale blue and the golden morning sunshine burned down. The garden was deserted but some abandoned clothes showed that fun had recently been had there. She blinked against the light, deciding to go barefoot rather than wear her heels.

She padded out of the room, went down the hall and knocked at the bathroom door. ‘Xander? Are you in there?’ There was no answer, so she opened the door. It was empty.

She went on down the hall, calling softly for Xander. No one was stirring. The whole house had an exhausted air, blown out by the frantic scenes of the night before.

Imogen went down the huge staircase. Perhaps Xander had gone to the kitchen to get a drink. She certainly needed some water: her mouth was fluffy and dry and she craved cool liquid. Would she be able to find the kitchen? It must be towards the back of the house.

She set off down a long, picture-lined corridor and began to recognise it from the night before. She passed the door to the ballroom, and then came to the door to the library, paused and opened it.

Inside the room smelt stale and smoky. Someone had enjoyed a cigar in here at some point in the last few hours. The sword lay abandoned on the floor, surrounded by bottles and their severed tops. The silver tureen was full of tepid water and the crystal caviar bowl upturned in a pile of
dirty
slush. Everything seemed drained and empty.

She was about to leave when she noticed that, in the gloom at the far end of the room, someone sat hunched over a desk, asleep, a dark green rug draped over their shoulders. She began to move towards the figure. In front of it, the surface of the desk was covered in paraphernalia: a spoon, a syringe, needles, swabs, tin foil, a pair of scissors, some tubing and a pipe. Bags and wraps with traces of powder lay scattered about.

She approached quietly although she was sure they wouldn’t wake. The whole house felt as though it was under Sleeping Beauty’s spell, with everyone in it slumbering deeply.

As she drew closer, she realised it was a man, and that some soft dark blond hair was emerging from the top of the rug.

‘Xander?’ She plucked off the rug.

He sat slumped forward, his cheek resting on the desk top. She knew at once that something was dreadfully wrong. His face was grey and the muscles beneath his skin didn’t seem right, as though they’d slipped. Dark red blood had streamed from his nose and mouth on to the desk, though the flow had stopped and was now thick and sticky. No warmth came from him.

‘Xander! Xander, wake up!’ she called frantically, shaking him as hard as he could. He was cool to her touch. ‘Xander, can you hear me? Talk to me! Wake up! Please, Xander, please … wake up, wake up, wake up …’

Then she began to cry, horrible, broken, harsh sobs, because she knew that he would never wake up.

Chapter 46

Lake Como
January 2009