Fletcher Hill - Sweet lips

"Yes."

"When you arrive, you are to say simply that your name is Sharon and that you are expected. Nothing more. Not a word about my sending you, and no references to me of any kind whatever. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You're to dress your prettiest. But you're to wear no underclothing. Just a very short dress and stockings and shoes. Not another stitch. Personally, I abhor the idea, as you know. But in this case I am not the one you must please." She paused. "And I must warn you, Sharon. If you fail to please in even the smallest way, I will hear of it immediately. You know what that will mean, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Now, one further warning. You are never to breathe a word about this party. Never. If you do…" She laughed shortly. "Well, need I spell it out for you?"

"No."

"All right. And now about this afternoon. Don't forget that you're to be at my home at two. I want that guest room cleaned the way it should have been in the first place. I won't forgive a second shoddy job, Sharon. And Sharon?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget you are to do your work in the nude. I would be very much distressed if I were to come home and find you otherwise. Is that clear?"

"Whatever you say, Miss Thornton."

"The party's at 6433 Courtland. And remember – you're to be there within the hour." She hung up.

The house where the cab driver let Sharon out was in the city's most exclusive residential area – a huge fieldstone mansion set far back on a gently sloping lawn behind a high hedge.

Sharon walked up the curving driveway to the porch and rang the bell. On the way over in the cab, she had resigned herself to whatever was in store for her. Whatever it was, she would simply have to endure it, that's all. If she didn't take part in this orgy, or whatever it was, she would be sent back to prison. And besides, there were many worse things in the world than orgies. Who was to say that she might not even enjoy herself?

She pressed the bell, listening to the muffled sounds of laughter and music from inside as she smoothed down her brief skirt and sleeked her stockings. She'd do her very best to have a good time, she decided. Being forced to attend an affair like this was something like being raped. As long as it was going to happen anyway, the only sensible thing to do was to relax and enjoy it. To put herself in the mood, and to pass the time while she waited, she put her hand under her dress and began to frig herself with her finger.

But she'd been at it only a few seconds when the door began to open, and she quickly removed her finger, forcing herself to smile at the distinguished-looking, middle-aged man who stood there. He had iron-gray hair and a small, neat mustache, and Sharon recognized him instantly as Jason Woodward, the president of the city's largest bank.

"I'm Sharon," Sharon said, as Joyce Thornton had told her to do. "I'm expected."

"Indeed you are, my dear," Woodward said, eyes roving her body appreciately. "Indeed you are! Come in." His voice was thick, and Sharon realized that he was more than a little drunk. As she stepped past him into the entrance hall, he reached down to feel her ass. "Ah," he said, squeezing the smooth, firm flesh, "What a beauty you are, my dear. I'm Jason Woodward."

"How do you do," Sharon said, feeling his hand slip beneath the hem of her dress and insert itself between her legs, a finger probing up into her slit. "I understand I'm invited to a party."

A door opened at the left, and a regal-looking woman of about forty came into the hall. She was beautiful, with dark-gold hair and clear gray eyes, and the body beneath her floor-length dress could easily have been that of a woman half her age.

"Well, Jason," she said, smiling at Sharon, "I see our little guest has arrived."

"Indeed she has," Woodward said, continuing to finger Sharon's cunt. "I'm in love with her already."

"She's lovely," the woman said, coming up to them. "It seems we've drawn ourselves a prize this time." She cupped both of Sharon's breasts in her hands and milked them gently through the thin material of the minidress. "Darling, you're exquisite." She squeezed a little harder. "What simply marvelous breasts."

"This is my wife, Sharon," Woodward said.

"Call me Denise," the woman said, and put one hand beneath Sharon's dress, meanwhile continuing to milk her breast with the other. "I hope you don't think we're too forward, darling."

Woodward laughed. "I've already got my finger in it, Denise," he said. "You'll have to wait your turn."

"I'll have to do no such thing," Denise said, pushing her finger into Sharon's cunt beside her husband's. "She's built tiny, but there's room enough in there for both of us, I'm sure."

Sharon moved her feet further apart to make her cunt spread a little, beginning to enjoy the experience of being fingerfucked by two people at once in such an unusual way. It seemed that, lately, all sorts of new things were being done to her.

"What an adorable little pussy," Denise said. "I've just got to taste it." She lowered herself to her knees and raised Sharon's skirt up to her waist. "And you smell delicious." She put out her tongue and began to lick Sharon's slit. "Be good enough to take your finger out of her for a moment, Jason."

"Not a chance," Woodward said. "Just concentrate on her clit, why don't you?"

"But your finger's in the way, Jason. Take it out, just for a minute."

Sharon was beginning to squirm with pleasure. "Why don't you stick it up my ass instead, Mr. Woodward?" she said.

"Excellent suggestion," Woodward said, and eased his finger into her asshole, moving it in small, tantalizing circles that pressed the tip hard against the hot, slippery membrane. Meanwhile, Denise had spread the lips of Sharon's cunt and was licking her labia; doing it noisily, with loud, slurping sounds.

The door at the left opened again, and a young girl in a maid's uniform came in. She was very pretty, but there were dark circles under her eyes and she looked very tired. Neither Woodward nor his wife paid the slightest attention to her.

"Excuse me, Mr. Woodward," she said. "Telephone for you and Mrs. Woodward, sir."

"What?" Woodward said, reaming Sharon a little faster. "For both of us, did you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, we're busy just know, as you can see. Tell whoever it is to call back."

"He said it was very important sir. It's the Mayor, sir." She paused. "It's on the bedroom phone, sir."

"The hell," Woodward said, withdrawing his finger reluctantly. "All right, Genita. Thank you."

"I wonder what that idiot wants now," Denise said, dropping Sharon's skirt and getting to her feet.

"Who knows?" Woodward said. "But we'd better humor him. And besides, you'll have all day to suck our charming guest here."

"I could suck her all day, too," Denise said. "Genita, this is Sharon. Isn't she pretty?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. She certainly is."

"Well, see that she joins the party," Denise said as she and her husband started off. "And make sure the others don't eat her up completely before I have another chance at her."

The maid smiled. "I'll try, ma'am," she said.

When the door closed behind the Woodwards, the maid looked at Sharon and smiled, her eyes on her breasts. "I could eat you, myself," she said. "I could just eat you up."

Sharon laughed. "Why don't you?" she said. "I'd like to eat you, too."

The maid sighed. "I'm just too tired to suck, that's all," she said. "This party's been going on for, two days."

"Really?"

"And I've been on duty the whole time. Look at my eyes. No sleep at all, and somebody jamming his prick in me every time I turn around."

"Is that bad?" Sharon said. "All those pricks, I mean?"

"It is when you only like girls," the maid said, turning toward the rear of the entrance hall. "Come this way, please. You'll soon see what I mean."