Charles Richards - A Kingdom Of Love

"Let's go into the living room," Joan said. "We'll be more comfortable.

And don't let's make it an evening of you silently obeying my commands on your hands and knees. I'm much too excited for all of that. I want to know about the circus job!"

The room they entered was essentially black and white. The walls were charcoal, the heavy shag rug, white. The couch was covered in real zebra skin. Before it stood a large glass-topped coffee table with an angular brass base. Opposite the couch were a pair of horsehair ottomans. The soft cylinders were covered with skin from painted ponies. In one corner there was a reclining sculpture chair made of wood and black leather. Balancing the room was a huge, overstuffed white goatskin lounging chair. The accessory tables were made completely of glass. Globed lights hung about the room from copper chains, lighting it well but leaving geometric shadows clinging to everything and everyone in the room.

"Amanda, may I have that mandarin housecoat you gave me last Christmas?

That's a dear," said Joan as she unhooked the leash from Amanda's collar. She watched the woman leave the room to fetch the coat. She wanted to lie back on the zebra couch and have Amanda lick her pussy.

But she just could not get relaxed into the feeling of the prickly hair of the couch cover on her bare skin. She wondered how Amanda could stand it.

Joan looked around at the portraits of dogs on the walls. A huge painting of Prince hung above the fireplace mantel. There was a grouping of fox hounds to his right and another smaller, more revolutionary portrait of a grey wolfhound to the left.

A rogue's gallery of photographs considering pedigreed faces occupied one entire wall. What seemed to be every large breed was there. But, of course, predominance was held by Prince's family since he had been with Amanda for so long. Once Amanda had explained to Joan that Great Danes were used for lion hunting. The dauntless spirit which years of breeding evolved to that purpose was one reason Amanda admired Danes so much. "It's what you must look for in the puppy, Duke, when you take him, Joan," Amanda had said one day by way of counsel.

Joan turned her attention away from wondering what Amanda had meant, and her eyes fell on a red lacquer box. Painted in gold, silver and black, a lion stood by a pond. That must have been what caused me to think of the mandarin housecoat "here," said Amanda, returning as if she were a piece of the puzzle of Joan's thought.

"Gosh, Amanda, this room is peculiar when I'm alone in it. It's so erotic. I was just now looking off at a lion. That must be what I think of as typifying the circus job before me. Please! I want to hear about the job." Joan took the housecoat from Amanda's outstretched hand.

"Oh, Joany, I've got my collar on. And you know how I feel like worshipping you," said Amanda with a whimper.

"All right, Mandy, come and lick me, pussycat. You can tell me while I cream." Joan obliged Amanda as she would a child and sprawled her body gracefully on the couch. The housecoat which she had donned reached only to the top of her box when she stood so that when she sat her ass could feel the wiry hairs from the couch's zebra coat. But that was all right because the buns of her ass would sweat as Amanda licked her. It was her back that the couch really irritated and which the coat was to protect.

Amanda pressed her breasts on either side of Joan's thigh as she knelt, laying herself at Joan's feet.

"Joany?" she whined in a little voice, "I've something to tell you, so please don't be mad."

"What is it, pussycat?" Joan asked contentedly. But suddenly alarmed when she suspected something amiss with the job: "What? Nothing's the matter-I hope I've still got the job?"

"Yes, you've got it," answered Amanda. "But maybe you won't want it when you hear what I've got to tell you. The animal trainer's name is Westmore. In fact, it's Myrna Westmore, my twin sister-if the truth must be known."

At first Joan felt ill at ease with the news. To begin with, Amanda was a Gemini, and after five years of being close with Joan suddenly springing a twin out of the blue was unique to say the least. Some harbored secret must be brooding in Amanda's soul, and Joan was not sure she wished to get involved in anything so incestuous. But that's what the circus is, Joan told herself as she struggled with the inner conflict for words to answer Amanda.

"Why haven't you told me of her before this?" Joan spoke, the pique rising in her face.

"Because she is the one who trained me to be as I am right now. And though I find it so uniquely pleasurable I was still afraid that you would not allow yourself to be tested with her, when you discovered all the circumstances of the job."

"When are you going to learn to trust me, Amanda? Bestiality is good to me. I want more of it. However, my point of view is different from yours, and I do not have to pervert my mind in order to occupy another dimension. The fact that underneath you sort of wanted me to be like you after your sister gets finished with me caused you to conceal what you should not have-if for no other reason than that I, too, have mastered you."

The woman whimpered at the reprimand in the girl's voice. She had been rebuked and must now plead submissively to resume licking Joan's cunt.

Joan had no wish to see Amanda grovel her voluptuous body tonight. She patted Amanda's head and assured her with warm blue eyes that she could continue.

Immediately Amanda's hot tongue plunged into the crevice between Joan's willowy legs. It fluttered wetly through the foliage of hair and licked at her clit. Joan opened her legs wider and scooted downgrain on the cushion. The hair that covered the couch became even slicker as an even sweat broke out on Joan's flanks and hips.

"What's she like, Amanda? Myrna, I mean?" Joan asked vacantly as she pictured a brazen version of Amanda stepping into the animal pen whip in hand.

"You'll see, dear," answered Amanda as her tongue slid in and out of the cavern in Joan's gently rolling hips. "Umm. You taste so good, baby. Spread your legs wider so I can get my tongue in farther. Ummm, ummmm."

Joan widened her legs and let thoughts of the circus drift away through her mind. She felt like a seagull lazily flying above the ocean. Like a body of rolling water, Amanda's mouth sucked while her tongue twirled in Joan's cleft and shocks of pleasure emanated through the girl like an electric bird.

"Amanda. Am I stronger than her, your sister?"

"If you remain at heart true to yourself. It will take courage to face her among her animals. Of course, she may not choose to test you-but then your summer would be a bore."

Hush, child, Amanda's thoughts continued. I don't wish to speak this nonsense to you while my tongue licks at your love.

The wriggling pink snake-shaped tongue cleft into the volcanic hole of Joan. The fires erupted and her orgasm started to build boiling up with her cum.

Joan began to hump her hips on the couch with increasing force. Soon her sweaty hips sang rocking off the slick zebra hair and slapped back down against its prickle.

The zebra hair was silky to the touch hut stiff on its ends: it felt to Joan like a silky wash brush stroking a soapy ass.

Amanda's huge hunk of tongue reamed the moist fleshy walls of Joan's blistering pussy. As each hot sparkle of fluid reached the hungry tastebuds, Joan's juices were sucked into Amanda's molten mouth.

Joan locked her legs around Amanda's auburn head and let the woman's tongue ravage her eager cunt. The ragged edges of her pink vagina held tiny bubbles of the joy juice up for Amanda's flicking tongue to lick off.

"Oh, it's so good," Joan wheezed, tears of pleasure welling up in her eyes and causing the two-tone room to spin greyly.

Amanda ran her tongue like a channel beneath Joan's cut. The turgid pink stud throbbed with the swift wet passage the channel had become. A river of cum raged its twisting way down the corridor of canyons of Amanda's tongue and thrilled the love bud awake. The love button scooped out a passage against the grain of Amanda's plunging tongue and hot wet chills sang through Joan's torso.