I must thank Miss Bella Mariposa for the inspiration for this chapter of 'Beetlesmith,' and for those subsequent. This new narrative tone I'm beginning to exploit struck me as lighting after reading her two wonderful stories, 'A Letter to Sir,' and 'Enslaving Rachel.' The themes of both worked so well with my own plot direction that I found it almost natural I should incorporate their atmosphere to the present tale of 'Beetlesmith.' I wasn't surprised by this; good writers always have this effect on me. They always open up new avenues to places I hadn't seriously considered before, or even knew existed. I only hope I can do her imagery, ingenuity, and creativity some justice with my own ham-handed prose, and if I can capture just a small part of the eroticism conveyed by her stories, then these next chapters will be a success.
Bella, it's said that imitation is the highest form of flattery. I hope so, because you deserve as much adulation as I can dish out. Thanks so much!
____________________________________
Once again, it was the small hours of the morning and insomnia griped me. Karen and Denise were lying on either side of me, their peaceful slumbers mocking me as my mind continued to whirl around the events of the past couple of days.
As planned, Denise arrived at our house the next evening around eight. I got us all a glass of wine before we got comfortable in the living room. We chatted for a while. The two women sat together on the couch while I sat across from them on our overstuffed lounger.
It's funny how we can all slip back into the mundane so quickly. Less than twenty-four hours ago, we were in this very room doing the most indecent things with each other. Where Denise sat, she gave me the best blowjob I ever had during Jackie's wild fellatio game, all while taunting her husband in the process. Where Karen sat, she was getting fucked in both holes and between moans of delight was begging me to stick my cock in her mouth—trying to make it the perfect trifecta in her, 'fill all my holes at once' fantasy. Christ, just this morning I gave each of them a patented, Karen 'twofer' right on that very couch. Now, as I stared across the room at the two of them, they were talking about the latest fashions as if all that, and more, hadn't occurred between us.
I was half listening to their conversation and half day-dreaming about last night's events, when that feeling of overwhelming power and invulnerability swept over me. Karen was in the middle of saying something innocuous about our friend Gloria, when I broke in, "That was particularly naughty of you two to slip off like you did, away from me, to enjoy yourselves alone."
Usually a statement like that, interrupting her as it did in the middle of an unrelated topic, would have elicited a scornful glance, followed by a not too subtle condemnation from Karen. Instead, she stammered as if I had caught her in an egregiously deceptive lie.
"You did all those wonderfully, wicked things away from me, and out of my sight. How many times did you make each other come, and I wasn't there to enjoy them with you?"
Karen stammered some more. Lowering her eyes she finally squeaked out, "I'm sorry. You were having so much fun with Cecilia I didn't think you..."
"And you," I said, looking at Denise, "Did you put Karen up to it, to deceive me like she did?"
It was Denise's turn to stammer while turning a lovely shade of scarlet.
"I'm so displeased with the both of you..."
Denise blurted out, "It wasn't my idea!" Karen continued to hang her head, not daring to look at me.
"I'm still displeased at you both, no matter whose idea it was. All those orgasms I gave to you. All of those naughty, pussy-soaked fantasies you each had that I fulfilled for you, over and over again. And you repay me by secreting yourselves away from my sight so that you could pleasure each other, alone."
Both of their lower lips trembled as they continued to stare down at the floor in shame.
"Look at me," and when they did, I asked rhetorically, "What am I to do with you?"
Neither said a word as I stared back at them. For a moment, I thought I saw tears beginning to drop from their eyes. "Take your clothes off," I said gently, but sternly.
They hesitated for a moment, the briefest of moments before complying with my demand. Once disrobed, they sat back down on the couch, naked and ridged. The looks of shame and nervousness on their faces were as if I had just exposed them to all the leers and jeers from all the lechers they had ever known. Then, an amazing transformation occurred as I continued to stare silently at their beauty. They saw my leering and embraced it, and as if reading my mind, they opened up to my thoughts. Lying back on the couch, they spread themselves wide for me. Their hands danced about their bodies, caressing themselves gently, seductively. One leg, intertwined with the other's, as they fondled their pussies for my pleasure. They wanted me to join them. I could see it in their eyes, beckoning me to the couch as they ran their fingers through their pubic hair. The signs of their arousal were stark, as their juices flowed unabated between the plump globes of their ass, onto the couch.
As Denise teased herself with an enticing finger, I saw moisture, thick and heavy, glistening off the nail, and off her folds.
"I see that the juices are flowing freely now, and you didn't need a good fuck or two to get them that way." She blushed at bit, but did not reply. "How many wonderful orgasms did you have together? Well that can't be helped, I suppose, but I want to see at least one from each of you, now."
Without hesitation, they started laying their hands on the other, but I reprimanded them, "No! You're not to touch each other, just yourself."