Archer's Lane Case 01

As soon as the man had closed the door, the author began to laugh uncontrollably. Her friend under the desk soon joined her, and Eliza, too, could no longer hold back. The women lay in each other's arms for a moment and giggled, then Kathleen began to regain her composure. "Well, Frau Lane," she said to Eliza. "From the looks of it, we're going to San Francisco."

Eliza eyed her confused for a moment and let the words sink in. San Francisco? Her? America? But why, what for? And besides... "But I - where do you know my real name from?" Eliza asked puzzled.

"What?" Kathleen asked, and then remembered. "Oh that. Well, that wasn't hard. You're British and so you probably don't really have a German last name, so it's probably a simple translation. Spur - Lane. But to be honest, I just guessed. So you're really Eliza Lane?"

Eliza blinked and then sat down on the chair at the window side, next to the desk of her boss. "Y-yes," she stammered. "But... San Francisco? And you? You're British as well? American? Why the passports? And what do we..."

"Well well," Kathleen interrupted her laughing. "Is all of that so overwhelming? Well then: No, I'm from the German Reich, but if you can Germanize your name, then I can Americanize mine, right? It'll also help us go unnoticed there, new names, new birth dates, new identities. That's what the passports are for. And you never know when you might need an American passport again."

The secretary nodded and fanned herself with her hand. This wasn't quite the kind of work she had expected, but she was undecided how she should feel about it. Then suddenly, she remembered the third woman in the room, below Kathleen's desk. "Yes, uh, alright," she stammered bashfully and cleared her throat. "I'll leave you to it then." She got up and took another quick look at the head of the whore, which was barely visible between Kathleen's legs.

"Oh, but you're quite alright where you are," Kathleen replied smiling. "I was just writing and the enchanting Karla was kind enough to lend me a hand with that. My stories do make me wild as well, you know."

Eliza blushed at the memory of how she had started her first day on the job the day before. Did her boss know about that? Could she imagine? Or did she just toy with her? As if she had guessed her thoughts, Kathleen continued: "I've got toys in here as well, and sometimes it's really quite difficult to have one hand free to write with. So I am very grateful when one of the ladies here will help me out."

As if to confirm, Karla moaned quietly into the red pubes in front of her and began kissing Kathleen's pussy, which prompted languorous sighs from the author. Eliza stood there undecided and felt, as if she was watching a bizarre play between the two women. Still, Kathleen was her boss, and so she indulged the small tirade the redhead was working up to.

"And besides," the author continued and pulled one of the penis-shaped wooden pegs out of the drawer. "These tools are all made by men, after all. If women would make our own toys, we'd never come up with something like this. Maybe something that would just stimulate the clitoris, but not something like that."

"Well," Eliza replied, and then fell silent again. After all, she was clueless, she told herself, but the prospect of feeling one of the pretty hard rods inside of her didn't seem to be too off-putting to her.

"Oh you," Karla remarked slightly reproachfully and let two fingers slide into the slit in front of her, as if to drive home her point. "She doesn't mean it like that," she then said to Eliza, who just now really acknowledged the presence of the prostitute. So far, the giggling harlot seemed little more than a piece of furniture to her, present and somewhat useful, but nothing she needed to deal with. But now, as she became more active and addressed her directly, Eliza felt... challenged? Or even jealous?

She called herself a fool. What would she be jealous of? A whore? Her boss? Both of them? Would she want to take the place under Kathleen's desk herself? And what in all of that aroused her so much? Watching her facial expressions, the author smiled at her. "Please, I know how you feel anyway, so feel free to play with yourself. We're among ourselves and want to work together, after all, so it would help not being ashamed in front of each other."

Easily said, Eliza thought, but then she sat down into the chair and watched the play for a while. Kathleen certainly wasn't ashamed in front of her, but very comfortable with her body and the situation. But Eliza couldn't bring herself to more than just touch herself between the legs through the skirt, which would at least quench her worst desire.

Karla however thrusted her fingers ever harder into the red-haired pussy and at the same time sucked the small button above, while Kathleen squirmed ecstatically in her chair. The prostitute pinched clit and labia between her teeth and pulled at them so hard that just watching it made Eliza almost feel, how painful it must be, which, strangely, made her even more aroused.

The author felt the same. She shrieked and threw her head back, her tousled hair brushed across her face. "Ohh yessss," she moaned. "Mmmh, fuck me nice and deep, my little whore."

Eliza took note that the dirty language of her boss wasn't just related to her stories. In a way, she had so far separated the written words from the author herself, as if they were by someone else entirely and just accidentally connected to her. But now, she started to wonder how much of it was actually inside of Kathleen. Did she experience all those wild things herself? The thought of it made Eliza so excited that she finally ran her hand underneath her skirt. The two women seemed to be too engaged with one another to notice her anyway, and soon her fingers ran across her damp pubic hair and started to rub her pussy quickly.

The "little whore" meanwhile took another finger and pushed all three deep and hard into Kathleen's slick fuck hole, which started smacking and splashing. A strange sound, Eliza thought. Skin slapping on skin, then a sucking and dripping, as the copious juices shot out of the slit, where they eagerly got sucked up by Karla. "Oh God, yesss," Kathleen moaned and shook uncontrollably in her seat, while Eliza began to rub her cunt more and more brazenly. Yes, she thought determined. Yes, she indeed wanted to take that place underneath the desk.

The thought made her shudder, and she watched fascinated as the whore thrust relentlessly and almost brutally into the twat of her boss, until she reared and let out a shrill shriek. Eliza heard a prattling noise, like a sudden shower, and felt comforting shivers run across her own body. Then the author sank back into her seat and looked happily into Eliza's eyes. For a moment, something like desire and longing hung in the air between the two women. Then, Eliza shamefully pulled back her hand and straightened her skirt.

"I... I better go pack," she excused herself and went quietly out of the room, while Kathleen just mumbled a faint "Mhmmm." America, she thought. They would go to America, just Eliza and her boss, all alone. Suddenly, the trip seemed twice as exciting as it had already been.