Paula Cash - Closet Queen

"Oh, no,Mrs. Wallace. no, no, no," she cried.

But there was no escape for the poor Maria, captured in a feminine sixty-nine position.

"I want you," Cheryl's mother insisted in a husky voice and, as usual, she got her way. Maria licked the older woman's cunt and her mother came on Maria's face, jerking, eyes big, head down, mouth drawn into a rectos of pleasure.

That was sexy enough, seeing her mother go, but it was even more thrilling to see her mother proceed to harvest the young girl's sexuality. Long brown thighs and graceful legs twisted and surged, heels dug in, as the hairdresser tried to extricate herself. Female sex was probably against her religion and upbringing both, Cheryl thought. Yet lust had to prevail in the end. Her mother handled the young belly and flowering pink cunt as if she owned it, making pleased sounds in her throat, and the legs stilled, the young body went passive and Maria began to sing in taken delight.

"Haysoooo,haysooo," she crooned.

This time she dug in her heels and canted her pelvis to be conquered by the older woman. She gave bird-like cries of pleasure as the blonde woman took her. Cheryl could see it all: the brown buttocks tense and intense in orgasm, the pink tongue reaming the wide-open darker pink of the violated vagina, the strain of soft muscles, and, of course, the animal but dainty sounds of the expiring young girl.

Cheryl had just begun to take a deep interest in sex. She thought the sight of the two naked women, head to belly on the bed, the most shocking and yet beautiful sight she'd ever seen in her fife. Her mother's fulsome lust and Maria's reluctant pleasure excited her beyond measure. She adored her mother, who was buxom but lovely, and she thought Maria the sexiest person she'd ever seen. She really couldn't fault her mother for seducing the girl.

Cheryl rushed back to her room and masturbated furiously. Before that she'd only touched her cunt tentatively. Not that day! Again and again she relived that scene. Her mother never knew she'd spied on the lesbian act, nor did Maria. Cheryl fantasized many times about taking Maria sexually but never dared, of course. She also wanted her mother to do it, but mostly she fantasized being her mother, the one on top.

The memory finally faded-only to reappear in force when Cheryl's own sex life began in high school, with boys. At first she had no orgasms and thought sex a drag. Then the fantasy came as she enjoyed sex with a boy she liked. Her mother and Maria-still later other female bodies writhing, to give Cheryl a lift toward orgasm with cocks. It had been that way ever since.

Cheryl got up and put on a robe, then looked down at her cunt. It was drying now, shrinking back to its small, innocent state. It glowed. The taste of Tom's sperm was still thick in her throat. But that fabulous pink sex nest was as firmly fixed on the past as ever.

"I'd trade you," she told her cunt. "God, how I'd like to trade you off!”

Still, it wasn't her cunt, it was her. She had to live with it. With a sigh, Cheryl returned to reality. While there's life there's hope, she thought. Best to go get that necklace now. She'd done it all at Brighton, had new experiences and she could escape back to New York and save her father's job and start thinking about Vassar. After all, there were other things in life besides sex.

She peeked out in the hall. No one there. The whole sorority was down in the kitchen and dining hall enjoying the breakfast the boys had prepared for the Delts, from the roar of sound that came up the stairwell. Good!

She had moved quickly down the hall to grab the figurine, Salt. Salt was not there. She stopped in shock. Pepper still sat at the other end of the hall table, misshapen face leering. But Salt, with the necklace inside, had vanished, utterly and completely!

One quality that Cheryl had inherited from her mother was a buoyant perseverance. The tougher things got, the harder she tried. Her tears and regrets were brief. The figurine was gone and with it the necklace worth three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Her future was really in jeopardy now, unless the thief were Abby, who might've spotted her hiding the Gypsy.

Cheryl was too late for the breakfast, but she confronted Abby shortly afterwards. This morning the redhead looked at her shyly, with stars in her eyes. The sex encounter last-night was uppermost in her mind, it seemed. Cheryl acted toward her as if nothing had happened.

"That figure that sits in our hall outside the room, it's gone," said Cheryl.

"Good riddance," said Abby. "Somebody ought to get rid of Pepper too. I always hated those statues, or figurines, whatever they are. I don't like art that makes the human being ugly.”

There was no start of guilt or over-protest. Cheryl was sure Abby hadn't taken Salt. That put Cheryl deeper into trouble-she had to operate on two fronts now. Find Salt-and the necklace. Evade any questions about it, when Abby missed it. Abby was sure to miss it this morning.

Cheryl realized she might've done better to tackle Abby about it directly when she first signed up with the Delts. But then there'd been no evidence that Abby even had it. If Abby's boyfriend had it, she'd certainly lie to protect him. Last night was the first time Cheryl had seen it.

It didn't take much detective work to find out where Salt had gone. When Cheryl asked around discreetly, she struck pay dirt.

"Sure I saw Salt this morning," said Scotty Blair, a petite brunette, and a freshman, like she was. "That frat guy, Tom Talbot-he had it. He said he wanted it as a token of remembrance for the greatest surprise breakfast the Sigs ever had over here.”

So Tom had grabbed in, probably in sheer exuberance, on the way out of her room. He commemorated their sex. How ironic!

"Frankly, I didn't think the breakfast was that good," Scotty went on. "Those guys don't know much about scrambling eggs if you ask me. Almost burned.”

"Still that Talbot is a hot cowboy," said another. "If I could date that, I wouldn't worry about burned eggs.”

"A dream," sighed Scotty.

"Hey," said Cheryl. "We can't let the Sigs get away with that. Salt and Pepper are our property. A sort of-uh-landmark.”

"Ugghhhh," said Scotty.

"Yecchhhh," said another.

"Good riddance. Wish he'd taken Pepper too," laughed a third.

Cheryl felt better. If Tom Talbot had it, she could probably get it back easily enough. He probably hadn't even discovered the Gypsy. The hole in Salt was deep and she'd really crammed the necklace way up and tight. Maybe she could get it back today. Maybe the delay would only be for a few hours!

She dressed and got out of the Delta Rho house as soon as she could. She didn't want to answer any of Abby's questions this morning about missing jewelry. She called the Sig house from a public phone, but didn't reach Tom. The best she could do was reach his room-mate, a guy with a squeaky voice who identified himself as Spider Strawn.

She had a spot of trouble with Spider. Tom's roommate had a fast lip and a racy vocabulary. At last she drew out of him the fact that Tom was out for the day.

"Classes till noon, then he works at the Biology Lab in the afternoon," said Spider. "Why don't you come over this afternoon and we can kick around a coke before he arrives. He tells me you've got New York class.”

"Tell him I'll see him tonight," she said. "His place. It's important.”

"You're passing up heaven," said Spider. "Good looks aren't everything, Cheryl. I'm built like a pig. Mine's corkscrew-shaped and the girls love it.”

"I'll let you know if I get a leech for pork," she answered coolly and hung up. It would be best not to mention Salt until she saw Tom. He and his roommate might get curious and look inside.