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Zelda’s warm body felt so good against her back. Martha had little trouble with the idea of lying back and being taken by the woman; might just be what she needed.
“How about you just relax and let me take you to some place special,” the warm-bodied Zelda cooed. Her hands were inside Martha’s blouse and pulling at both her nipples. She stretched them out long and slowly until they hurt, and the pain traveled downward to her sex. Martha seethed quietly. This was so rare for her. Once she remembered Felicia tortured her this way, but just once. Felicia was only occasionally dominant with her—she often wondered why, when Felicia herself was known as a Domme.
“You like this, don’t you?” Zelda asked.
“Don’t you dare stop,” Martha said. One of Zelda’s hands dropped down to Martha’s crotch and she began to fondle her there. Then she moved to the waistband of her pants and slid her fingers down inside.
“My, how wet you are? Pent-up again, are we? You shouldn’t wait so long to take care of these things, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of what you need.” Her voice was so soft, and still so commanding. Exactly what she needed.
“Humm…” Martha moaned. The lusty redhead had played an unexpectedly needed role in the last few days, giving her relief she was unable to find elsewhere. Remy could never do this. Martha started to turn around, and face her.
“No, no, stay right where you are,” Zelda said, continuing to whisper in her ear. “You let me be in control this time, just you relax.” She moved with Martha to the nearby sofa, laying the woman down on the thick comforting cushion. Zelda tugged at Martha’s blouse, pulling it up to find her breasts undulating before her, as the woman breathed in and out. “Just keep your hands over your head, hum…” Zelda said smiling. “Let me do all the work.”
Martha gazed up into Zelda’s glowing eyes, letting everything about the moment arouse her.
“This is so perfect,” Martha moaned.
“Of course,” Zelda said in a voice that faded away as her red curls descended to Martha’s chest and her lips kissed the soft flesh. Her teeth captured a nipple and held it tightly, while she gazed into Martha’s rapturous face. There was a smile behind Zelda’s biting teeth, a dark and wicked smile of lust so pleasing that she could be lost inside it.
“Martha!”
The sudden sound of the voice coming from outside the room made both women freeze. Then Zelda’s teeth let go of their hold on Martha’s nipple and the hefty breast fell back against her chest. “Oh my god!” Martha bolted from the sofa and pulled down her blouse.
Meanwhile, Zelda stood up almost laughing. “My aren’t you nervous. The door’s closed, silly.”
“I know, but we should be more careful. Damn! I bet it’s those two detectives.” She quickly glanced out of the window to see Remy still working on the roses. She was by herself.
Leslie and Robin stood in the hallway, waiting for Leslie’s call to be acknowledged.
“Remy was very odd, wasn’t she,” Robin whispered.
“Still a little wacko, I’d guess.”
“Definitely,” Robin agreed. “I kept thinking as she was praising Martha that Remy really is an unhappy woman. I think her doting lover’s wandering has bothered her much more than she admits.”
“I agree with you there. I wonder if she wasn’t under the same kind of stress seven years ago when she tried to kill her lover. Perhaps she snapped again.”
“Killing Felicia would make a lot of sense if she needed to get rid of the competition.”
“Anybody here?” Leslie called again, as they waited in the foyer for someone to appear.
The door to the study suddenly opened and a disheveled Martha emerged with a pleasant expression plastered on her face, a hand running through her messed up hair. “May I help you?” she asked. Zelda stood behind her, grinning.
“I’m sorry if we’ve interrupted something,” Leslie said, realizing with some interest exactly what the two were doing.
“No, no not at all,” Martha answered politely. “I see you were talking with Remy in the garden.”
“Yes,” Leslie said. “She was very helpful.”
“Helpful? And how’s that?”
“She confirmed some information we have about her past, and yours, and yours, too, Zelda,” Robin said, nodding to the other woman.
“About her past?”
“Yes. What you haven’t told the police.”
“I don’t know what you could mean,” Martha replied defensively.
