Maureen Quincy - Forbidden Sex Games

But there was no longer any limit so far as Richard was concerned. He attended drug parties (using the hard narcotics such as heroin and cocaine) with a carelessness that shocked his erstwhile school friend; he engaged in sexual acts that were considered outrageous even by London's permissive standards; and he showed himself to be a totally ruthless young businessman in his dealings with the pathetic junkies who provided Richard with his chief source of income.

He was cautious enough not to allow his own mind and body to become addicted to these killer drugs. Richard used them in moderation, confident that he could control their effects providing he kept the doses to small quantities.

There had, of course, been a hue-and-cry over his absconsion from Fernleigh school. Richard's father instigated a country-wide hunt for him, enlisting the aid of Scotland Yard as well as private detectives in an effort to locate his prodigal son. But Richard remained on their 'missing persons' file. He couldn't be traced. And it was with a certain grim satisfaction that he sent his father a letter-mailed from New York by an obliging friend-telling the man exactly what he thought of him! The hunt was doubtless being pursued across America now… and Richard felt a bitter kind of triumph that his father was wasting hundreds of pounds on a useless attempt to catch up with him-simply in order to vent his wrath!

As for Lisa… She divided her time between Louis Chabrol, with his wealthy and extensive group of sensual French-Lebanese acquaintances, and the Arabs-Ahmed and Mustafa. There was a schism in Lisa's personality at this stage of her life. She felt herself drawn by the idealistic, yet Quixotic philosophy of her beach-fuckers, defending them to her more blase friends and keeping her promise by faithfully handling over half of her allowance to the would-be revolutionists each month. Yet Lisa couldn't embrace their cause wholeheartedly. The lure of materialism was still very attractive to the girl. She loved the rich life offered her by Chabrol and his ilk; and she drifted uneasily between the two widely disparate worlds… enjoying them both, but feeling guilty when she was in the company of the Casino set and suffering from occasional bouts of impatience that Ahmed and Mustafa were keeping her from a more exciting rendezvous!

From time to time, Lisa also longed to feel Richard's arms around her, pining for her step-brother with a sharp desire that was undiminished by their several years of separation. She frequently wondered what had become of her first lover, but Lisa's only clue to his whereabouts came from a letter which her father sent to Kathleen Wynter: informing the ex-Governess that Richard had disappeared from his school and asking her if, by any chance, he had turned up in Beirut-hoping to join his step-sister.

For a number of weeks, Lisa abandoned all her friends in her excitement at the possibility of seeing Richard again. She combed the streets at every available opportunity, checking hotels, bars and student hostels-only to meet with total disappointment.

Eventually, she returned to her established routine, realising that if Richard had succeeded in making his way to Beirut he would have contacted her within hours of his arrival. It was a false trail, a romantic finale to their forbidden love affair which didn't belong in the realms of reality. Lisa embarked on a round of all-night parties and orgies, exhausting her body in an attempt to free herself once and for all from the enervating obsession-her ever-present lust to be fondled and fucked by her stepbrother. But as always, the fever returned-stronger than ever… until the girl was forced to accept the fact that her physical love for Richard would never die…

The dramatic liberation from their father's domination came to Lisa and Richard in the autumn of 1970.

They were 22 years of age, and Lisa was due to return to England for the first time since John Cunningham had despatched her to Byblos finishing school: more than five years' previously. Although her departure date was still some weeks away, the girl had already begun to pack her winter clothes and make plans for the forthcoming vacation when Richard's telegram arrived.

“Father died of heart attack yesterday afternoon, (it read tersely). Solicitors say entire inheritance left to you. I'm disowned. Help! Deepest love, Richard.”

There was an address in the preamble to the telegram; a mews in South Kensington…

Lisa caught the evening jet to London. She carried no luggage. She even travelled in the clothes she had been wearing when the cable arrived!

By any standards the party had been an outstanding success. Resplendent in dinner jacket and evening gown, Richard and Lisa stood by the open door of their lounge, bidding a polite farewell to the majority of their guests; accepting the accolades with graceful, well-mannered smiles-playing the perfect young host and hostess. The house in Surrey belonged to them now, since-although the property was in Lisa's name under the terms of their father's will-she had legally transferred half of her inheritance to her step-brother.

That dark depression, the black cloud which had been hanging over their heads since childhood-like a proverbial Sword of Damocles-was lifted with their father's death. Lisa and Richard were finally free. They could now live the lives which they desired, instead of the straight and narrow paths chosen for them by John Cunningham.

It had been a mere fortnight since their father's funeral, and they were still tasting the first reckless joys of liberty; gradually appreciating the fact that there was no longer a threat to their happiness, yet at times being unable to believe that they didn't have to conceal their physical passion for each other. Lisa had abandoned her Arab I friends-Ahmed, Mustafa, Darena and the others. Callously, she had decided that they were unsuitable for her new life; that their crazy philosophy and ludicrous schemes for a “peaceful revolution” didn't fit in at all with her future plans.

But Lisa had remained loyal to her more sophisticated Beirut lovers. Louis Chabrol, Candice Badel and Kathleen Wynter were brought over to England at her expense-merely to stay with them for a long weekend's “celebration”. And Richard's 'society' friends had also been invited to the party: Lisa refusing to entertain his hippie or drug-addicted acquaintances, chiefly because she was bored with the dreamy, passive nature of this group. She wanted to be surrounded by gay, extrovert lovers! The only members of her step-brother's clan who belonged to this category were Elizabeth Hayes, a girl named Gillian Sandell-who was supposedly related to one of England's leading pop stars and who had intrigued Lisa at their first brief meeting-and, by a slight margin of doubt: Spencer Prendergast!

These assorted and much-envied people formed the nucleus of the couple's private party. They were chatting together when Lisa and Richard re-entered the room, closing the door behind them and moving among their special guests; rather like prospective buyers at a cattle auction, selecting their favourites and running their eyes carefully over any new breed which they might have previously overlooked…

Lisa eventually settled herself beside Gillian, a rather plump, blue-eyed girl with fair hair that was cut too close for Lisa's tastes-though she responded warmly to the compliment which Gillian paid her: touching her own, almost waist-length tresses as the girl sighed that she would love to have such gorgeously long hair.

“I'm sure you make up for it in other ways,” Lisa reassured her. “For instance, your breasts are much fuller than mine! They stand out so firmly, don't they? Would you mind if I…?”

She put both hands on Gillian's bosom, pressing them into the ripe mounds and squeezing gently.