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He had his mouth on her cunt, licking and kissing her clit, her labia, all around, nuzzling her hair.
“William—I—well, if you insist—but just for a little while…”
She rested both hands on his bald head and leaned back while he worked and ate around.
For a whole lot longer than a little while!
Part IX
A week later Selena dropped by Ted and Margaret’s office for an end-of-mission wrap-up.
At first they copped a ’tude about her waiting that long, but she told them after all that dancing and cunt-lapping and dick-sucking and ass-lashing she’d had to sleep for a week.
“I ain’t Venus or Serena Williams, I’m only a love goddess,” she’d sniffed.
After she gave them an oral and written report, she played a videotape that had been shot at the Shalimar Club the night before.
William G. Gaddys was the star of the show. He wore a gold lamé G-string, cowboy hat and boots, and a wild ecstatic smile.
His powerful, rock-hard, lithe, muscular body shined with oils as he did a bump and grind and all kinds of freaky moves with a bevy of beautiful strippers. Women were screaming and stuffing bills into his G-string.
“Thank you, thank you, ladies.” He laughed when he finished. “All funds I collect will go to the Society for Sexual Liberation and Freedom and the Home for Retired Exotic Dancers!”
They answered with a chorus of whistles and cheers, by stuffing more bills into his G-string and fondling what was in it.
“Free love! Let it all hang out!” he shouted.
“That oughtta give his old allies, the Housewives Against Pornography, conniption fits,” Ted said.
“Who you think was sponsoring the benefit?” Selena said. “You think that congressional committee is still gonna want him to testify?”
They all had a good laugh at that one.
“Selena, you are a wonder worker, a marvel!” Margaret gushed. She was wearing a loose colorful flower-print cotton dress, open, and no bra. She sat on a loveseat next to Ted, who was wearing Bermuda shorts, sandals, and a sexy black silk shirt that was open to the waist. The desk was gone. Plants were everywhere and a large tasteful nude hung on the wall behind them.
“I know I didn’t follow your instructions to the letter, but getting dirt on Gaddys just to extort him would have only created a resentful, angry person who might turn on you at any time or slip back into his old ways once your control over him weakened. Now you have a willing ally. You can push somebody down in the mud, but you gotta git down there with him to keep him there. And it’s good to see you two now practicing what you preach.”
Both of them squeezed hands and nodded almost reverently.
Selena stood up and walked over to them. She gave Ted a lingering, wet, open-mouthed kiss and then did the same to Margaret, and then gently pressed their faces together and left them like that.
A few minutes later she was driving along the interstate in the big pink Mercedes sedan Gaddys had insisted on giving her in gratitude. Ah, the fringe benefits of a job well done!
She punched the CD player and on came Marvin Gaye singing her favorite song, “Sexual Healing.”
It was a fine, sunny afternoon. The day was still young.
What to do?
Oh, yeah. That brother who she’d given her number to in the Shalimar Club that night had been calling. Left his number.
He was a fine young thang. Could probably use a little lightweight schooling. Or heavyweight, if need be.
Yeah, she thought. Call him up and see if he can come over. Get in the hot tub. With a friend. Or two. Or six.
She dialed him up as the car glided down the highway, smooth as glass.
Rendezvous
