Sophia had received an invitation from Kimmy. And what an invitation! It was to her very first orgy. The party – for such it basically was, Kimmy assured her; the sex would just happen if the mood took folks – was going to start that evening at ten o’clock at Kimmy’s place. As the result of a highly favourable divorce settlement, brokered by one of the town’s best attorneys, Kimmy had got to keep the family home in Beverly Hills. It occupied part of the site where a famous director of the Hollywood Golden Age had built a house which had seen quite a bit of action of its own in the 1930s and 1940s.
All sorts of people would be there, but only invitees. Very few worked in the adult film industry (just two women, Kimmy said). The rest were realtors, lawyers, advertising people. There was even one accountant, Kimmy said, laughing. And he was the life and soul of the party! There were a couple of men whom Kimmy described as ‘artisans’, one an electrician and the other a builder. She personally knew 90 percent of all those who came to her parties, which were held approximately twice a year. She expected around 25 to 30 people in all, roughly split between men and women. There’d be plenty to drink, of course, and she had ordered food from a local caterer, who was a personal friend and an occasional participant.
Naturally, Sophia was excited. So excited that she thought of telling Peter. But, no, she’d see how it went first and give him an account on her return, if it lived up to the hype. Once she got back tot the hotel, she swam for half an hour in the pool – which she had to herself – and then ordered room service. Something light was what she asked for and the kitchen recommended the creamy basil pesto and pork fusilli. She ordered a Chardonnay to go with that and decided the amount of exercise she had taken that day entitled her to a dessert, choosing the apple strudel – always a favourite of hers.
She wanted to watch a fun movie that made few demands on the little grey cells, and, having scrolled through various lists, decided on Ratatouille, which she’d first seen with her then four-year-old Ollie a couple of years before. It would, she thought, be nice to watch it on her own, which meant she could concentrate on the flick without having to explain things to the inquisitive child every few minutes. Recalling that time made her aware of how much she missed her children. Yes, she found time to Facetime them each day, but it wasn’t the same as having them around. She must remember to find something to bring back for them. Anything animal- or natural world- related would send Ollie into raptures, while her four-year-old budding artist Chloe would love a sketchbook. She would see to this on the following day – her final full day in LA.
Despite her best efforts, Sophia nodded off during the film and when she checked the clock, she saw that it was already five past ten. While she was brushing her teeth, Sophia turned her attention to what she was going to wear. She was very much in two minds: she could either go for the sexpot look, short skirt, stockings, heels – the works – or she could play up her Englishness and try a more prim and proper look, hair tied back and all that. With a twinkle in her eye, she decided on the latter. She had brought the outfit along as something she might possibly wear for work, but it hadn’t come out of the cupboard. It consisted of a classic black blazer over a black slip-tank top, which was tucked into khaki green skinny jeans. Lace embroidery at the base of the generous décolleté added a certain something, Sophia thought. Ivory and black colour-block heeled pumps completed the ensemble. Underneath, she wore khaki lace floral pattern panties but decided to dispense with the matching bra.
She took a cab from reception and made the short journey into the foothills. It was getting on for eleven o’clock when she arrived and the party was already in full swing.
‘Full swing!’ Sophia thought. ‘Possibly a very apt descriptor, if everything goes as Kimmy says these evenings invariably do.’
Certainly, at this early stage, there was very little sign of any hanky-panky. Sophia reckoned there were getting on for 40 people present: a group of perhaps ten around the swimming pool, a dozen or so in the main reception area, and (of course) at least as many as that in the kitchen – the centre of all the best parties. Even swinging ones, apparently. That was where Sophia met Kimmy, handing out what looked like freshly made cocktails in her, appropriately enough, cocktail waitress outfit. However, this was no ordinary cocktail dress – it was straight out of 1980s Atlantic City. How Kimmy had got into the thing Sophia had no idea. How she’d get out of it without tearing it was another matter. Strapless and effectively bottomless, it was essentially a black velvet corset made out of non-stretch fabric topped off with silver sequins.
When Kimmy spotted Sophia, Beylikdüzü Escort she whooped with delight and started to introduce her to everyone in her orbit. They were quite a mixed bunch, both in terms of age (mid-20s to early 50s) and looks. Most of them held no appeal to Sophia – apart from one. She was one of those in her mid-20s. Her name was Alina and she was as pretty as her name. She didn’t appear to have paired off with anyone as yet and so Sophia was keen to get her one-to-one as soon as possible. But, first, she knew, she must chat awhile with her host.
She accepted a drink from her (something with tequila was all she caught) and they began chatting like old friends. Sophia got herself into a position from which she could see Alina, and just occasionally she would cast a glance in that direction. Clearly, she wasn’t being as subtle as she thought she was being, as Kimmy suddenly asked her if she was listening to a word she was saying. Then, in a softer tone, she told Sophia to go over and talk to Alina. She had been dying to meet Sophia ever since, first Tom, and then Kimmy herself had told her about this sensational Englishwoman. Sophia kissed Kimmy on the cheek and made her way over to the petite beauty.
Brimming with confidence after what Kimmy had just told her, she introduced herself and asked her if she knew somewhere a little more private where they could continue their conversation. She was even more gorgeous than Sophia had given her credit for and, looking at her hands, both of which she now had in hers, perhaps younger too. It made her feel like a cradle-snatcher and this turned her on no end. Alina was not exactly putty in Sophia’s hands, since she clearly had set her stall out to ensnare the Englishwoman, but she was, shall we say, pliant. Sophia thought that she must have worked with Kimmy, and this had a powerfully erotic effect on her too. If a woman whose job it is to have sex wants to have sex outside of working hours, then it stands to reason that that woman must have a real thing for her object of desire. Be that as it may, thought Sophia, as they headed upstairs, she knew that she was extremely desirous of this olive-skinned beauty.
Alina led Sophia into a bedroom with a small shower cubicle in the corner. The bed was generously proportioned and covered in a deep red satin counterpane. Alina sat on the edge of the bed and patted on it for Sophia to join her. Still holding her glass, Sophia complied. She noticed that Alina had shut the door but not locked it. Maybe that was a house rule, Sophia thought, so the place didn’t feel like a ‘love hotel’. Or maybe, sharing was encouraged. You could pop your head round the corner, size up the action and join in if everyone was cool with that.
‘Are you nervous?’ Alina asked, interrupting Sophia’s reflections.
‘Not nervous, but it feels a bit like the first day of term at a new school. Need to get to know all the jargon and that sort of thing.’
‘You’re super hot,’ Alina said, placing one hand on Sophia’s knee.
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ said Sophia, taking in all of the young woman.
She was wearing trousers like Sophia – jeans, in Alina’s case. Also tight-fitting. She was wearing a shell coloured asymmetric draped top, which left her left shoulder bare, while covering her right shoulder and part of her upper arm. Beige ariella heels adorned her petite feet, with nails painted in a deep red shade. This tone contrasted nicely with the more subtle French pearl shade with which her fingernails were decorated.
‘Perhaps I can help you out of your jacket?’ said Alina, taking Sophia’s glass from her and putting it on the window sill before returning to undo the jacket’s single button. That simple task performed, she helped Sophia out of the jacket as if she were an assistant in a department store. She went across to the cupboard, opened the doors and put it on a hanger.
‘You’re very neat,’ said Sophia, as the girl took her place beside her.
‘It comes from my mother’s side of the family. They’re from Colombia via Panama. They’re all crazy about things being ironed and folded and hung properly.’
‘What about your father? Is he also Latino?’
‘No, Dad is a Native American – well, part Native American, anyway.’
‘Have you lived in LA long?’
‘Nearly two years now. I just came to visit a friend, but then I got asked to make this film and, well, here I am today, still working in the industry.’
‘Do you have other plans? Sounds like you might do.’
‘Yeah, I’m enrolling in a Communications Course at college next fall, so just one more year of this and then I’m through.’
Alina was shorter than Myška and almost as tiny as Mingzhu. She lacked Mingzhu’s ample bust, but she exuded sex appeal of her own. Catching a whiff of her scent, Sophia knew that the time for talking had passed. They were each of them there for a reason, and that reason had something to do with Beylikdüzü Escort Bayan the whole person, yes, but ultimately it had everything to do with the sexual being. They clearly thought they could find and give fulfilment at that level. On an impulse, Sophia asked Alina if she had been to one of these parties before. She said this was her first time.
‘That means the two of us are orgy virgins,’ said Sophia, placing her hand on Alina’s thigh. ‘Do you think we will be able to make a go of it?’
Leaning in towards Sophia, Alina answered her in the universal language of a kiss. While Kimmy had been more polished, more professional in her approach, Alina was more like the girl next door. She may have been doing porn for two years, but Sophia would never have guessed from the sensuousness with which she approached every aspect of lovemaking. There was no hand on the breast yet, let alone a play for the groin; she merely touched Sophia’s cheek lightly as she softly kissed her lips, disdaining for now to use her tongue. Sophia was enjoying the softly, softly approach, mirroring Alina’s actions and adopting her lack of urgency. The frenzy, she thought, could – must – come later.
The next step that Alina took was to let Sophia’s hair down. She did it in one easy motion, as one who had done it many times, and took time out to tell Sophia how beautiful it was. Suddenly, Sophia had the impulse to throw the girl on the bed, pin her down, show here who was boss, unzip her trousers and slide her finger in her luscious young pussy, but she resisted and let the Latino set the pace. She knew that this girl had come to the party tonight specially to meet her and to be with her, and she was damned if she was going to let her down. She knew that with each successful temptation resisted she would be stronger to stand firm the next time. Until the tipping point came, when she would be operating on a level well beyond that of the deliberate and the rational, when she would be like a werewolf on the night of the full moon, impossible to control, possessed of a monomania that needed instant gratification.
Alina played languidly with Sophia’s hair, tousling it between her fingers. By this time, she had introduced her tongue to the fray, and what a delicate little muscle it was! As it darted around Sophia’s mouth, the older woman continued to play the passive role, letting her own tongue be struck and then kneaded, rather than entering the lists as her lover’s equal. It was such fun, Sophia thought, to be so unhurried and so uncombative. The girl’s personality was imbuing her lovemaking, and Sophia realised, as she had perhaps never realised it before, that this was how it was meant to be.
Presently, Alina mixed it up by puckering her lips and placing them flush against Sophia’s, again just lips to lips and no tongue. When the tongue was introduced, it was given an important role, laving Sophia’s ample mouth from one side to the other, catching all in its path – lips, tongue, teeth. Sophia kept her mouth still, letting the girl ply back and forth as if she were using a paintbrush. After a minute of this glorious oral massage, Sophia took up the reins and cantered into action, until she was giving as good as she got. At the same time, her hand sought out Alina’s breast, caressing it through the fabric of her top, then rubbing and massaging it with greater energy. She could hear a moan escape from the side of the girl’s mouth. It was at this moment that she knew that Alina wanted her to take charge of the lovemaking, wanted her to undress her first, wanted her to suckle on her breasts first, wanted her to go down on her first, wanted her to make her climax first.
It was all about letting one’s personality imbue one’s lovemaking, Sophia reminded herself. Her personality was all about taking control, striving to be the best and being known as the best. She quickly had Alina out of her top and her jeans. That left just the panties (a nice sensible pair of the type Myška used to favour), which could stay on for the moment.
‘God, you have great boobs!’ said Sophia, noticing that the right one was quite a bit smaller than the other one.
Small boobs usually meant large, hungry nipples and this girl was no exception. They were expanding before Sophia’s eyes.
‘They seem to want some attention,’ said Sophia, looking from the nipples to Alina and back again.
‘Every part of my body wants your attention,’ replied the youngster, eying Sophia with raw passion.
Sophia let her fingers trail over the smaller breast, feeling it required a bit more love. Alina bit her lip and arched her back, begging Sophia to minister to her needs and bring her release. Sophia, reverting to type, decided she must wait. She let her fingers wander across to the left breast, where they made circles and figures of eight, always avoiding the tumescent central bud.
‘Aw, Escort Beylikdüzü fuck!’ groaned Alina, recognising she was in the hands of a skilled practitioner of the art of making you wait.
‘Be patient, little girl, and I will give you everything you want – and maybe more.’
Alina looked plaintively back at Sophia like a pouting teenager. Sophia smiled at her, put a finger to her lips and then went back to work. This time it was just the fingernails that did the walking, leaving goosebumps in their wake and drawing more noises from Alina that she did her best to suppress. Finally, Sophia’s middle finger moved to the summit of the Latino’s smaller mound and made a soft landing, as if it were a helicopter touching down on a pad. It moved about on the surface for a while before descending the curved vertical wall to the bumpy base. Bringing her thumb into play, Sophia gently squeezed the nipple – now critically hyperextended.
‘It clearly wants something,’ said Sophia to Alina. ‘Have you any idea what that might be?’
‘It wants your tongue,’ said Alina, playing it straight, even though she knew she was being toyed with.
‘You should have told me,’ said Sophia disingenuously, attaching herself to the aching nub.
When Alina began to writhe about under Sophia’s tongue, the older woman knew it was the time to rachet things up. First, though, she would give the nipple a thorough working over. Using every resource at her command, she drove Alina to a point from which both women knew it was only a short trip to never-never land. Whether she could broach that gap by oral ministrations alone, she had her doubts, so she took an executive decision and drove a finger into the Latino’s pussy. To say that this organ was ready to receive Sophia would be like saying that an alcoholic was ready for another drink. It clamped her tight and then relaxed. Sophia got the message immediately and acted on it just as fast, adding two other fingers to the mix and driving them deep into the waterlogged receptacle. Squelching noises resonated around the room, drowned out from time to time by the Latino’s now virtually continuous soundtrack. It was only a matter of time; Sophia didn’t need to do much more. Just keep going until the inevitable happened.
While Alina lay there on the bed – her knickers round her thighs – Sophia took her own clothes off before yanking Alina’s white panties off and tossing them onto the floor. Easing her onto the bed, she parted her legs and took in the view. Beneath a neatly trimmed bush, her labia were spangled with opalescent droplets. Draining these with one swipe of her tongue, Sophia’s thirst remained unsated. In fact, their saltiness acted to increase her thirst rather than assuage it. Opening her fleshy lips with her fingers, she was confronted by a reservoir that possessed no spillway to let the waters escape. The only way to prevent inundation was by transferring the surplus to an empty receptacle. Sophia realised that her mouth needed to fulfil that function.
Kneeling on the carpeted floor, she peeled back the labia once more and started to channel Alina’s sweet juices into her mouth. Her problem was the opposite of that which faced Tantalus. The more she drank down the juices, the more the waters rose. Redoubling her efforts, Sophia lapped furiously at the flood, ignoring for now the rivulets that flowed onto the bedspread and began to stain it black. Her task was not made any easier by Alina’s squirming, which constantly threatened to tip Sophia out of her station. Pinning the Latino’s arms by her side, Sophia went deeper – down to the wellspring of her being – and attempted to cut the flood off at its source. The gambit failed. Rather than quenching the flow, this merely exacerbated the problem, as new springs were activated, putting Sophia in considerable peril.
Sophia summed up the situation and realised that she must use the emergency Stop button. Coming up for air, she inhaled deeply before putting her tongue to the girl’s swollen clitoris. This had the immediate effect not of damming the flow but of diverting the stores of pent-up energy into another channel. If only Sophia had mapped out the underground labyrinth, she might have been aware of the complexities of its structure. But it was now too late. The reservoir was on the point of disintegration. There was nothing Sophia could do but engage the Stop button once more in the hopes of averting cataclysmic devastation. In line with Sophia’s worst fears, things were too far gone for any remedial measures to have an effect. Alina’s yowling testified to that, as the Latino was washed away. When Sophia got to her feet, she saw the destructive effect of the deluge. Alina lay motionless and silent on the bed before her – her hair matted in sweat, her limbs splayed out at improbable angles like one who has been turned to stone.
‘Wow!’ Alina said after a minute had passed.
‘You were wonderful,’ said Sophia, returning the compliment.
‘I guess it is my turn.’
‘You must be exhausted. We could take a break.’
‘I think it is my turn to exhaust you.’
Sophia lodging no objection, Alina lay the blonde on the bed and took the opportunity to admire her wondrous form.
‘I think I must start with your breasts.’