The first few weeks after finishing with Mrs Williams was wonderful, my head, heart and body slowly recovering from the ordeal, both mental and physical, self inflicted I know, of the previous eighteen months. It was the first time since I left South Africa that I really enjoyed myself – Harrod’s is a brilliant institute, designed for the idle and the wealthy, and I was both. Manicures, pedicures, facials and hairdressers: all catered to my capricious whim.
I ate alone and slept alone. I was determined that nothing was going to disturb this chapter of my life. I lived a sybaritic existence – Eve in the Garden of Eden, without the serpent or Adam. As the days and weeks drifted dreamily by, I slowly, ever so slowly felt that something was missing. I was homesick for the blue skies and wide-open spaces of the veld.
British Overseas Airways were operating VC10s out of Heathrow, special one way tickets to Jo’burg only cost ninety pounds – Economy Class. I was going First Class, my flight booked for the 8th January, a month away, almost two years to the day that I had arrived in London.
My wardrobe was examined with the South African summers in mind; I still had the camel hair coat with the fur collar and that I was keeping, but plenty of the ‘other’ gear was definitely not for South Africa – summer or winter. I had never particularly liked fur coats so the couple I had would not be missed. More importantly I wanted to remove all traces of my previous life.
I ‘phoned Diana at Mrs Williams, yes she was still there, explained my problem and invited her around, for a viewing. We decided on an evening and agreed a time; she suggested bringing a friend which was alright with me. I remember getting in some bits and pieces to eat and stocked up the wine rack. Not having seen her since leaving Mrs William’s I was quite looking forward to the evening.
She arrived with a friend, another girl from Mrs William’s ‘stable’
As you can imagine, the ‘gear’ included everything from leathers to sex toys; suspenders to high heeled boots, all ‘tools’ of my trade and as I was determined that that part of my life was over and done with, they were all going to go. I opened some wine and, after a few nibbles and drinks we decided that the best way to show the ‘gear’ was for me to model it.
We adjourned into my bedroom, where the girls sat on the bed, (the same one on which I had humiliated Henry all those months before), while I started opening the wardrobes and drawers. Looking back, some three years later, I am amazed at some of the outfits I had not only bought but had actually worn.
I stripped down to my panties and started with the leather top, the one with the zip going up the front; then the very short leather skirt. It was so short that I had to remove my panties because they were showing. The knee-high boots were next, then, facing the girls I posed for them, hips thrust forward, hands under my breasts. They loved it!
Amongst the ‘toys’ there was one vibrator that would have made an elephant cough; it was connected directly to the Battersea Power Station. It was that big, when it started to vibrate it registered on the earthquake monitors in the Far East. No, it had never been used on me! I was holding this up while I posed for them.
While I was doing my bit of modelling I noticed that Diana’s hand was sort of, running up and down her friend’s leg, we’ll call her Jane, and Jane didn’t mind one iota. In fact she was edging closer to Diana, each sideways movement of her leg opened the gap between her legs to the point where I could see the cream coloured ‘v’ of her panties.
I continued to strut and pose while watching Diana’s hand move all the way up Jane’s leg finally stopping as she felt her panties, and the wiry pubic hairs snuggling underneath. I walked to the end of the bed; they didn’t even know I was there! Diana’s fingers were now tugging at the edges of Jane’s panties, all pretence at secrecy gone, Jane was massaging her tits concentrating on the nipples which were clearly visible through her sheer silk blouse, eyes shut, as Diana managed to insert two fingers into her, by now, very wet cunt.
She lifted her bottom off the bed as Diana eased her panties down over her hips, until they were gathered in a heap around one ankle, her very hairy pussy wide open to the world and me. I carefully climbed onto the bed and before Diana could get there had my tongue buried in the sweet smelling juices pouring from her. It was wonderful! My fingers eased the tight curls away from the lips and edges of her hole and there, at the top of her cunt was her clitoris, my eager tongue lapped around it finally sucking it between my lips.
She went wild! It took all my strength to hold her down as her body writhed under the torment as shock after shock coursed through her. I pushed three fingers deep inside her as my lips lost their grip on her clit. I still had the vibrator in my hand and, as she was so wet I decided to see whether she could take it – she could and did.
It was brilliant, especially when I turned it on. She must have lifted a foot off the bed. It was incredible watching her body as it shook and shook, her hair almost standing upright from her head. I switched it off and watched as she subsided down into the bed, her hair settling damply around her face. Her body bathed in sweat.
The experience was only eclipsed as I felt fingers probing my naked arse which was stuck in the air, the leather skirt having ridden up to my waist. Diana was getting in on the action. A threesome can be an awesome experience, especially when it’s three women who know what each of the others wanted, and were happy to provide.
Two fingers slowly penetrated my arse, two fingers my cunt, with her thumb rubbing up and down the swollen edges, it was glorious. My breath came in short, sharp gasps, as it was my turn to experience the joy of an orgasm, then another, then another they just seemed to go on and on.
Her fingers buried in my cunt were massaging my bladder, an exquisite sensation. I couldn’t help my self: as Jane lay there busily working on my tits, my nipples hardened by the orgasms and her gentle ministrations the golden stream sprayed from me and I pissed over her.
Diana edged her body around the better to watch, keeping her fingers in my cunt and arse, as I lifted my leg the hot piss poured from me over her hand and Jane’s face. The stream became a trickle, the last drips licked by Jane. I positioned myself so I could lick Diana’s cunt, it was already swollen and pouring; my lips went to work, my tongue lapping up the juices. We all came together, Jane fucking herself.
Afterwards we lay there on the very soggy bed completely spent. Time meant nothing! A raised arm crashing down on the bed as muscles gave up the unequal struggle. Finally I managed to crawl to the edge of the bed and make it to the floor, my sights set on the bottle of wine sitting on the dressing table. I made it! Slowly returning to the bed and my friends clutching the bottle; we didn’t need glasses.
I gingerly walked to my bathroom and grabbed two or three big bath towels to soak up my piss. Then we must have lain there for over half and hour, the level in the bottle slowly going down as we recovered. I was the first one to stagger to the bathroom for a shower, Diana following then Jane. She reckoned that that was the best fuck she had ever had and asked if she could have the vibrator, because nothing else would ever satisfy her.