Samantha Dalton raised her hand to knock at the double door, then withdraw it, uncertain. Stephen Prester, her teen paramour, looked down, meeting her blue eyes with his own.
"Are you okay, Sammie?" He looked concerned. "We don't have to do this, you know." Beautiful as he was, the pearlescent sheen of his cum across her face made her even more desirable to him. She was marked as his, and the desire to take her, to ravage her tender flesh, throbbed inside him. Despite the previous hours of coupling, perhaps because of them, he lusted for her like a beast in rut.
Samantha pushed back her blonde hair, then turned back to the door. She rapped her knuckles on the thick wood sharply. The staccato noise rang out, and as she listened she could hear the ring of high heels on a stone floor. The pace was one she knew well.
"Why not use the bell?" Stephen asked, indicating the brass chain that was suspended by the door. Samantha shook her head, surprised.
"You want to know something really weird?" She eyed the chain. "In all the times I've come here I've never used the bell, I've always knocked."
Their consideration of the doorbell was interrupted by the soft creak of the doors opening before them. Framed between the doorposts stood a woman who Samantha could honestly claim to know intimately.
"So you're Handsome Steve?" The woman's tone was teasing, half mocking, and Stephen knew it from the phone call they'd shared. Helen. He'd dismissed Samantha's assertion that the other woman was more beautiful than herself, but... if he were being utterly objective... Samantha wasn't wrong. Of course, where Samantha was concerned, objectivity was utterly impossible, but he could acknowledge that the black haired, green eyed, woman before them was classically beautiful and had an hourglass figure that was barely concealed within a low cut, high slit, black dress. The press of nipples through the cloth, and the lack of visible panty line, suggested that she was wearing no more underwear than Samantha. He would guess that without heels she'd have been about a inch shorter than Samantha's five foot nine, but heels put her at least an inch taller.
"That I am." Refusing to be intimidated by the almost palpable wave of sensuality the woman projected he adopted the same tone. "And you are Helen." He stepped forward, extending a hand, but taking it the woman tugged him forward till her arms could encircle him.
"Don't be so formal, Handsome Steve." Helen purred. "We're all friends here." He felt the softness of her lips against his cheek, and his arms tightened involuntarily around her. He heard her inhale. "Oh my." He felt the tickle as the woman's tongue stroked over his skin. "I know what you've been eating... who you've been eating... and she tastes as good as I remember."
Helen released Stephen and he staggered slightly, turning guilty eyes towards Samantha. He found on her face the same rueful smile that was on his. "Sorry." He mouthed silently. Samantha giggled. Helen was indeed a blinding flash and a deafening report.
"Samantha, darling." Helen wrapped her arms around the blonde woman and pressed her lips to hers. "What's this?" Her hands rose to hold Samantha's head, turning it left and right. "Oh you bad girl. Whatever are you wearing? We can't leave you like that. What would people think?" Stephen gasped softly as Helen's soft pink tongue began to lap Samantha's glistening cheek, following every trace of his seed. Helen had a gift of making even the simple task of eating look sensual, and she devoured Samantha like a cat with cream. Samantha whimpered, her arms locked tight around Helen, as the black haired woman licked her clean.
Both Stephen and Samantha were breathless when Helen finished her meal. She turned smouldering green eyes on the young man, and smirked. "Well, darling, we can say that the young Handsome Steve is a man of exceptionally good taste... can't we?"
"Come in, come in." Helen swung her arms around them both and pushed them into a long hall. The floor was slate tiled, the walls were constructed with exposed timbers that arched up to provide support to the upper floors, carved with vines and flowers. Two spiral staircases, one close to them, one at the far end of the hall, wound their way upwards, both constructed in the same polished golden wood as the exposed studs and arches.
"Wow!" Stephen was struck dumb by the quality of the workmanship. He had done construction work during his holidays, and he had spent no small amount of time working with wood at home, but here was far more than he'd ever considered doing.
"Thank you." Helen slapped his buttock. "Don't stop, Handsome Steve. The playroom is down the hall, third on the right, through the library."
"Playroom?"
"I feel pretty safe in assuming that the two of you aren't here for milk and cookies... although I'm sure I could find some of that later... so move it." She squeezed Samantha's ass, and the blonde responded with alacrity.
"Come on, Stephen." Ever since starting her tryst with Stephen, Samantha had found herself consumed with lust. Now Helen's kisses, her touch, had aroused sensations she'd not felt since college. She had spoken the truth when telling Stephen she didn't love Helen, not as she had her late husband, not even as she did her young lover, but being desired by this goddess? That was sending her into a barely controllable sexual frenzy.
When they entered the library Stephen once again stopped to look around. It was not a large room, but there were a couple of comfortable leather sofas, and a desk with a laptop open on it. There were several shelves laden with neatly racked leather bound volumes, and it was a minute or so before he realized that other than the door they had come in, there were no other exits.
"Didn't you say we had to go through the library, Helen?"
"Did I? Oh, silly me." Helen faked looking wide-eyed and bewildered for the briefest moment, before moving to the far wall. Hooking her fingers under a shelf, she pulled what must have been a hidden lever, and an entire section of the bookcase swung back.
"A secret door?" Both Stephen and Samantha were pleasantly surprised.
"Oh, you like that?" Helen teased. "I had this put in when the house was built, for times when I wanted a bit more privacy for entertaining... friends. I usually leave it locked, but when I saw you two I thought I might need it."
"You watched us?" Stephen sounded startled.
"Of course I did, Stevie." She winked. "For the record 'the man in the boat' did a lot of rowing... if you know what I mean."
Helen pushed the door all the way open and the trio walked through. As the door closed behind them Stephen was struck by the silence of its movement. "Completely soundproofed," Helen said. "I can scream to my heart's content, and nobody is any the wiser."
The room they were in was smaller than the library, barely larger than a walk-in wardrobe, barely illuminated by a single shaded bulb, and in its centre a flight of stairs spiraled downwards.
"A basement?" Samantha was intrigued.
"Of course." Helen bussed her lightly on the lips. "A thousand square feet devoted to grown up fun." She flipped a switch on the wall and the stairwell was illuminated. "Come on."
*****
Helen's playroom reminded Stephen of his parent's gymnasium at home. Two walls were mirrored, making the underground area seem even larger. The floor, and the concrete pillars that supported the house above, was padded, the off white surfaces plasticized, he assumed for ease of cleaning. If he listened carefully he could hear the quiet hum of fans, ventilation he guessed as the air in the room seemed fresh, and the temperature was kept warm, but not too warm. A definite difference from his home gymnasium were the machines that were lined up about the room. Some of their function seemed obvious, an X shaped cross for binding, and he recognized a Sybian, two in fact. Others seemed more esoteric, a steel frame that would require some contortions to strap a human body to, for example. Against the wall were display cabinets housing a variety of toys, ranging from whips and clamps, to vibrators, to a dildo that he couldn't imagine any woman, except perhaps a giantess, accommodating. One thing he noticed, a raised dais in the corner of the two mirrored walls. Covered in the same padding as the floor it was a bit larger than king-sized double bed.
"Don't just stand there, get naked!" Helen's voice cut through his reverie. She had already kicked off her heels, and was pulling her dress up over her head. Samantha was following her lead, unbuttoning the sundress that she had spent so little time wearing. Stephen's hands went to his own buttons, his awkwardness about undressing in front of a near stranger overcome by their shared fervour.
Helen was, as he had surmised earlier, naked under the dress, and she took a pose when she had disrobed. "You like?" She purred, turning slowly, and Stephen could only nod. Helen contrasted strongly with Samantha, the blonde was slim, small breasted, with a nicely rounded bottom. Helen might have equalled her friend's hip measurement, but her figure was dominated by heavy, amber tipped, breasts. She was...
"Voluptuous!" Was the word that came to his lips, unbidden. Helen smirked.
"I bet you say that to all the girls." She teased, subjecting him to a frank gaze. "Damn. You look better up close than through binoculars." She turned to Samantha. "You look as yummy as I remember. May I take him for a ride first?"
Samantha found herself choking down a flash of jealousy, but waved her hand. "Sure, I did have him all morning." She refrained from adding, "And I'll have him all night too."
Helen moved surprisingly quickly, catching Stephen's arm she turned, thrusting him into a nearby pillar. Padded as it was he took no injury, but his slight gasp signalled his shock. Nonetheless his reflexes took over and he caught her upper arms in his hands, reversing the position so she was pinned against the padding. "Good boy," he heard her whisper before her lips sought his. His body pressed against hers, trapping her between unyielding concrete and his unyielding flesh, their lips and tongues fighting a duel as old as humankind.
"Take me." Another whisper as their lips parted. Stephen crouched, his hands under her thighs, lifting her up, her hands moving too, positioning his rigid shaft, they pushed together. Helen cried out in satisfaction as Stephen was sheathed to the hilt within her. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling his hands under her buttocks, supporting her. "Fuck me." Stephen held her weight effortlessly, her back against the pillar, as he slammed his cock deep inside her smoothly waxed cunt. Something told him that, unlike Samantha who loved love both wild and tender, Helen craved the savagery of the rut. Her nails, short as they were, tore at his back as he thrust and withdrew. Deep long strokes that left her breathless, moaning with delight. "Oh God, yes..."
