Stephanie's Revenge (25 page)

'Spunk,' she
said. The authority in her voice, her dominance, made him come. He
was being used, used for her pleasure.

He bucked
faster, and deeper, then stopped, knowing he was ready, feeling his
spunk spasming out of his cock, past the tight confines of the zip
that held him like a vice, up and out into her liquid cunt.
Stephanie felt it too, his cock swelling even more as he came,
stretching her cunt the short distance between being in control of
her body and being totally out of control, as her orgasm plunged
her down into a blackness where the only sensation was waves of
pure pleasure. She heard herself scream.

She opened her
eyes as she felt Devlin's cock slip from the lips of her cunt.
Jasmina was still on her knees, her hand hugging at her labia,
holding on to the remnants of her orgasm, the riding crop discarded
on the bed.

'Mon dieu,'
she said. 'C'est un zob extraordinaire.'

Devlin lay on
the bed. 'You never cease to amaze me,' he said. The game was
over.

Jasmina pulled
the shoulder strap of the leotard down over Stephanie's arm. 'I
take this off.' She pulled the other strap down too and continued
to pull, the garment reversing itself as it came off Stephanie's
body. Stephanie arched her buttocks off the bed as Jasmina pulled
the wet-look material over her arse and down her thighs.

'Better?' she
said.

'Yes.'

'Good. I want
to feel your body.'

'Jasmina...'

'Yes.'

Jasmina
stroked Stephanie's long hair. She stroked both her cheeks with the
back of her hand. She kissed her on the mouth. She lay, her body
alongside Stephanie's black on white. She kissed her neck and her
breast, expecting perhaps for Stephanie to object, to say she'd had
enough. But she didn't.

She kissed her
between her breasts, and then up over the hillock of each breast to
lick at her nipples. Despite herself, Stephanie felt aroused.
Jasmina's mouth dipped on to her navel, her tongue exploring the
dimple of Stephanie's belly button, then the fringes of her lush
pubic hair.

Devlin was
watching. Jasmina parted Stephanie's thighs. She kissed along her
thigh, down to her knee, down to her foot, trailing her tiny
breasts against Stephanie's waist. Down the length of one leg, up
the length of the other until she was at the triangle of her pubis
again.

'I want his
spunk,' she said, in perfect English.

Stephanie
opened her leg wider, raising one leg, its knee bent. The trail of
Jasmina's tongue curved down between her thighs, down to where her
hair was plastered to her flesh with wetness. She teased out
Stephanie's clitoris and heard her gasp. It was hotter than it had
ever been. Then she tongued lower, running her hands under
Stephanie's arse and lifting it up off the bed so she could get her
tongue right into her cunt, right into the dark walls, to lap at
the gobs of spunk she knew she would find there.

She lapped
with her tongue, not caring what Stephanie felt, what she made
Stephanie feel, wanting only to taste spunk. She found it there and
lapped it up. All she could find, all she could taste. She felt her
body beginning to come again. The taste was making her come -
though somewhere deep inside her she knew perfectly well it was
everything else: the situation, the whipping, Devlin's cock,
Stephanie's fingers, everything was making her come. As she rubbed
her thighs together, grinding on her clitoris, she felt Stephanie's
cunt contracting. She was coming too.

Her orgasm
sang through her body, building into a crescendo. As every
instrument joined in, every nerve singing, as the music got so loud
she screamed for her release, it came. Suddenly her legs were
pushed apart and Devlin's huge banana finger was pushing up inside
her. She had never felt a sensation like it, a finger the size of a
cock. It released her. She came over it, flooded over it, melted
over it as her tongue tasted spunk and her mind gave up on trying
to make sense of all the things that were happening to her.

When she
opened her eyes, nothing had moved. Stephanie's cunt was in front
of her as she lay between her white thighs. And Devlin's finger was
still buried deep in the folds of her molten and exhausted sex.

Naturally
enough, Stephanie was starving again.

Venetia joined
them for dinner. Sitting round the glass-topped table the three
women were all dressed to the nines. Venetia wore a deep green
satin dress, strapless but with a full length, tight skirt, though
a kick pleat meant she could walk with slightly less' diminutive
steps than the tightness would suggest. The dress, worn over a
strapless basque, presented a cleavage which any man would have
found difficult to avoid with his eyes.

Jasmina wore a
cat-suit in a clinging, leopard-skin print. The material followed
every curve, every muscle of her hard, fit body, the print
disguising the smallness of her breasts and the pout of her
nipples.

Stephanie wore
black leather: a short pencil skirt, and a little bolero jacket in
the softest glove leather, over a plain white blouse that was
almost transparent. She wore no bra tonight. Devlin's eyes could
feast themselves - from Venetia's cleavage to her near-naked
breasts.

Stephanie ate
heartily again but by the end of the meal felt, for the first time
since her return, that her appetite was slaked. The last vestige of
her experience was, she hoped, behind her.

But not behind
Gianni. Over coffee they hatched their plot. Devlin was sure that
Gianni's wife would leave him if she got even the faintest whiff of
scandal.

'She's at the
end of her tether,' he said. 'The man I went to see has known her
since she was a child.'

'And this
time, he's not going to squirm out of it.'

'I'll make him
a permanent reminder,' Jasmina said, smiling. She had never
imagined the skill she had learnt in Madrid would be put to such a
use. But then, there were so many things she had never imagined
before she had met Stephanie...

'But we have
to act quickly. His wife gets back to Rome tonight and goes away
again the day after tomorrow.'

'It has to be
tomorrow then,' Stephanie said.

'Unless we
wait until she gets back.'

'I don't want
to wait,' Stephanie said emphatically. They talked it all through.
They made their plan.

They
considered every detail, tried to think of everything that could go
wrong. This time, there were going to be no mistakes.

It was ten
o'clock by the time Stephanie was ready, her lines rehearsed. She
picked up the phone and dialled Gianni's number while the others
listened. She heard the phone ringing and saw the huge mansion in
her mind's eye.

Someone
answered. It was Angelina's voice.

'Signor Gianni
per piacere,' Stephanie said, in her best Italian.

'Memento.'
Stephanie heard a click. There was a pause. Another click.

'Si?'

'Gianni. It's
Stephanie.'

'What do you
want, bitch?' he said. He did not sound happy to hear her
voice.

'I've been
thinking about what you said.'

'What do you
want with me?'

'Listen and
I'll tell you.'

'I don't think
I want to listen, bitch.'

'I've been
thinking about what you said,' Stephanie persisted. 'About setting
up an alternative to the castle.'

'This is some
trick, no?'

'Somewhere
that would be useful to you—'

'You back with
Devlin now?'

'Devlin bores
me,' Stephanie said, looking straight into Devlin's eyes across the
table. 'I need more excitement. You excite me, Gianni.'

'This is a
trick. What you try?'

'If that's
what you want to think.'

'It is.'

'You excite
me. Simple as that.' She let his egoism do its work. 'What you did
to me. What you made me do.'

'I heard this
before. You gave me this bullshit before. You think I'm
stupid.'

'You excite
me. Wasn't I wet when you fucked me, soaking wet? Wasn't I running
with excitement when you fucked me? You think my body can lie?'
When he'd fucked her last he hadn't even got inside her. She
gambled he wouldn't remember much.

'Yes.'

'I didn't
realise, Gianni. It was hard for me to understand. You treat me
badly. I must like it. I didn't know I did till I met you. But
you're a real man. You know how to give a woman what she
wants.'

'So?' he said.
It sounded as though Stephanie had hooked her fish. Now she had to
reel the line in gently.

'So, I told
you I'm bored here, with Devlin. This is his operation. He set it
up. I want my own place, to use my own ideas. You said yourself it
would be worthwhile. We could find a house somewhere near Rome. I'd
run it for you.'

'And what do
you get for this?'

'Oh, I'd be
handsomely paid, Gianni. And...'

'And?'

'And I get
you, don't I? Whenever I want you.'

'Is a trick,'
he said decisively, the fish pulling against the line and swimming
away. But the hook was still in its mouth.

'OK, if that's
what you think...' She let him think she was about to hang up.

'No. Wait.'
The reel took up the slack again.

'I'm coming to
Rome tomorrow. Come to my hotel. I can hardly chain you to the wall
there, can I? And you can't pull any stunts either. Neutral
ground.'

'No...' Gianni
was clearly trying to think if there was anything nasty she could
do. He decided there wasn't. 'I come.'

'We can talk,
and maybe...'

'Maybe
what?'

'I'm sure you
could think of something, Gianni. You know what turns me on.'

'Do I?'

'Don't you
remember? I'm offended.'

'I remember,'
he said.

'Good.
Tomorrow night at eight.'

'No, not
tomorrow.'

'Gianni, it
has to be tomorrow. Otherwise forget it.'

'Why does it
have to be?' She thought she heard suspicion in his voice
again.

'I have to
come to Rome for Devlin tomorrow. I can't just go to Rome on a
whim. He'd suspect something. He knows I'm bored.' She held her
breath, waiting for his response.

'Eight o'clock
tomorrow, then.'

'The
Excelsior,' she said.

'But of
course.'

'Can't wait,'
she said. That, at least, was true.

She dropped
the receiver back on to its cradle. 'Got him!' she said with
delight. 'Got him.'

'Now we go
over everything again. Everything. He's a nasty character. We don't
want anything to go wrong again,' Devlin said.

And they did.
This time there would be no mistakes.

They would be
flown to Rome in the morning and check in to the hotel. Jasmina
would go to her flat and pick up the equipment she needed, and they
would have the rest of the day to prepare for Gianni's arrival.
This time the plan was going to work, Stephanie knew it. This time
Gianni's marriage would be ended, his fortune lost and, with it,
his power. This time it would be a lesson he would never be able to
forget.

They moved
from the table to the fireside. Instead of brandy, Devlin suggested
they open a bottle of champagne, so they sat drinking a vintage
Taittinger. Jasmina sat at Stephanie's feet on the thick cream rug,
Devlin and Venetia on a small sofa opposite. Stephanie had planned
to take Jasmina down to the cellars tonight, to show her the rest
of the castle and its secrets now she had been introduced to the
eccentricities of its creator. But with the exertions that lay
ahead tomorrow she thought better of it. Tonight they should relax.
Which didn't mean they had to be celibate.

She looked
over at the beauty of Venetia, stark, model-like beauty, her full
cleavage revealing the marvellous curves of her breasts, the rest
of the body, bar her slim, pinched ankles, hidden in deep green
satin. She looked at the lithe beauty of Jasmina, her body like an
athlete, radiating strength and health. And then there was Devlin,
a thorn between three roses if there ever was one, but a man who
had given her more sexual pleasure than she would have believed
possible, a man that in so many ways had made her come alive. Three
beautiful women and a man. A world of possibilities.

Stephanie
lowered the lights so the flames from the fire flickered in the
room, lighting everything in flaring orange. She pulled off the
little leather jacket and the white blouse, her firm, up-tilted
breasts lit by firelight. Then she bent in front of Venetia, bent
to kiss her red lips. She slipped on to her lap, not breaking the
kiss, and pulled the front of the green satin down, pulled the bra
of the basque down too so Venetia's breasts were pressed, naked,
against her own.

She arched
herself back so she lay across Devlin's lap, her back on his thighs
now, and pulled his mouth down on to hers. She felt Venetia's hands
unzipping her skirt, pulling it down. She lay across their laps,
naked, breaking the kiss, wanting their hands to explore her.
Jasmina pulled the zip of the cat-suit down. In one fluid movement,
like some simple ballet, she pulled it off so that she was naked
too.

Six hands
explored her, caressed her, massaged her as she lay naked. The
firelight flickered on her body. She felt Devlin's erection nudging
into her back.

Six hands
lifted her to the floor. She watched as Venetia's dress fell away,
as she unhooked the basque, as Devlin stepped out of his shirt and
slacks. Then they were all naked. But she was the centre, she was
the hub of the wheel. It was she who made the wheel go round.

They spread
her, spread her legs, spread her labia, fingered her and split her
and covered her in mouths and hands and fingers until she thought
she would go mad with so much feeling. They held her when she came,
and she came over and over again. They turned her on to her
stomach, then round again on to her back. She moaned and screamed
and gasped and whimpered. Mouths on her cunt, fingers in her
mouths, every opening of her body probed and penetrated, every
curve moulded and held, her nipples pinched and licked and sucked.
Each orgasm was harder, stronger, lasted longer. They held her
trembling body tight, thinking only of her pleasure, not of their
own.