A Castle of Sand by LongDarkRoad
Chapter 04 Crystal Blue Persuasion
“Look over yonder, what do you see? A sun is arising, most definitely. A new day is coming –whoo-hoo- people are changing…”
‘The house’ was a hive of activity this Saturday morning, as tonight’s event included a dinner with cocktails and now six women were all trying to get ready with only one and one half bathrooms at their disposal.
“This is like a three-ring circus,” Christine commented to Margie at one point, as Geraldine (Gerry) flashed past with two dresses on hangers just as Connie came rushing up, housecoat open and breasts swaying, calling, “I’m next for the shower!”
“Yup, and like I said, most of the gals are running around like that,” Margie smiled and pointed to Connie’s impressive, swaying bosoms.
“Yeah, it’s almost dangerous,” Christine grinned.
* * * *
Anne Kasey studied her list again; she had definitely narrowed down her choices; choice one being the wife of the aide. On a small sheet of note paper, she now wrote down a name and ‘a request for anything on file’.
On the way back to her flat, she stopped again in the park, sitting this time on the seventh bench, where she cautiously placed the note she had written under it; then she carried on.
With that out of the way, she focused on her evening; tonight she would be heading to Beverly’s for some more fun and games with Mrs. S.
It was definitely weird, but she smiled thinking of the woman. Things could be weird but still nice.
* * * *
At three-thirty, Julia Sullivan showed up with a large suitcase, and proceeded to ‘the house’s’ dining area, setting up a display and then tracking down Lana who rounded up the women, all now in housecoats, many in curlers, to stand before the dining table.
“Okay, ladies, it’s been awhile since we’ve had a formal seven-course meal, so I just wanted to review the layout (on the dining table she had placed plates, stemware and flatware) so no one is embarrassed. Okay, remember we start with the utensils on the far left and move in.”
It was only ten minutes, but Christine was grateful for the lesson; she had never sat down to a formal seven-course meal. “Now,” Julia continued, “four of you will be seated with a Korean delegate and my understanding is their English is limited; three interpreters will be joining us and they will not be seated, so they can move around and help where needed. Any questions?” She paused to look around.
“Okay, good, so, everyone is going to have some soju tonight; it’s a traditional Korean drink and you’ll have a shot glass. It’s potent, so one glass each, and the glasses will be small as I say, but just warning you, okay? And we’re also serving kimchi, and you may find it um, potent as well; at least try to eat a bit. Now…”
Some general info was shared for the next several minutes and then the ladies all scurried off to finish their preparations. Douglas Silverberg’s car would be out front at four-fifty and Christine already felt the rising anticipation.
* * * *
As staff began to clear the tables, Silverberg turned to Christine, “So, you got through that,” he smiled.
Christine chuckled, “Yeah, thanks. That was a little intimidating but delicious, except for the kim-whatever…”
“Kimchi,” Silverberg grinned.
“Yeah, that was a little weird. I saw you wolfed yours down.”
Silverberg grinned, “I have one of those cast-iron stomachs; remember, I was in the armed forces, you just learn to close your eyes, hold your nose and eat.”
They both chuckled, and then Silverberg looked around. “The coffee and desserts look to be coming out as we mingle, so get out there kid and smile. I’ll circle back to you now and then. Connie looks like she’s loaded for bear tonight.”
Christine laughed and cast a glance at their ‘guard dog’, then the two got up and headed to where people had begun to gather in little groups.
* * * *
Virginia Silverberg was naked and on her knees, face buried between Anne’s thighs. They had each had two glasses of wine and Anne had gone out to the yard to smoke a joint.
Both were now feeling nice and relaxed and Virginia was really enjoying the fleshy folds of Anne’s inner and outer labia; the woman’s prominent stub of a clitoris was also a target and as Virginia sucked away, her thumb and index finger were working diligently together. She slowly introduced one finger, then a second into the well-lubricated vagina.
Anne now began to moan and move her hips and Virginia focused; she really wanted to bring this young woman pleasure, as the woman had done so pleasantly for her. When Anne’s hips lifted off the couch and a long aaaaahhhhh issued from her lips, Virginia smiled and looked up with a feeling of satisfaction. Anne opened her eyes slightly, smiled a crooked smile, and gently stroked Virginia’s hair.
Then, hearing a noise from behind, Virginia turned her head and Anne looked up to see Beverly, standing naked with a glass of wine in one hand and a smile on her face. “Don’t let me interrupt, kids. You two play. I’ll just sit over here, like a mouse or something.” She grinned and Anne laughed out loud.
“You’re not a very good mouse, babe,” Anne winked.
* * * *
It was almost eleven, and Christine’s feet were beginning to complain. She and been in her heels since four-thirty and on her feet since seven, but a greater concern right now was the current spot she was in.
She had moved around the floor well during the night, chatting briefly here and there, usually through an interpreter, with most of the South Korean delegation.
She’d managed to speak with Silverberg a couple of times and with most of her housemates, even if it was only a word or two.
But at this moment, she was trapped between Mr. Sohn, mid-height, mid-forties; and Mr. Gee, slightly smaller and a little younger, and no rescue seemed imminent as neither Connie nor Mr. Silverberg were in sight.
One of the tall cocktail tables was before her, a wall of windows was behind her, and Sohn and Gee were close on either side. The table before her was full with a food tray and several glasses, forcing Christine to hold her glass in one hand; while her other held her small purse; and the two men were using this situation to their advantage.
It had started a few minutes earlier, with Sohn, to her left, gently running a hand up her leg, to which she wiggled ‘away’ (a tiny step) and grimaced at the man, who looked straight ahead, his face composed, as if studying the horizon, beyond the opposite wall.
Then, as if on cue, Gee from the right actually grasped her ass cheek, gently squeezing it. Christine did not want to cause a scene or offend anyone and was completely befuddled; and now frozen; her only escape would be to physically push past Mr. Gee. And both men had now slid their hands under her long dress and were fondling her panty-hose-covered rear end.
A sense of panic, but also arousal, surged through Christine and she looked desperately around the room for help, but no one was looking at her, a large potted palm blocking most of the view from the right. The two men, working together, were now pulling down her under-clothing. It took only a moment before she felt warm hands on her bare skin and, absurdly, a stronger jolt of desire.
Pausing momentarily, as Sohn continued to squeeze, Gee removed his hand and lifted Christine’s dress up, tucking some of the garment into her sash and allowing the men to see what they were dealing with; Christine’s completely naked and perfect ass as she stood accepting and motionless.
In a moment, both her shoes and undergarments were also off.
Gee suddenly placed a finger in Christine’s mouth, which she sucked on without thinking, her eyes now closed and most of her mind feverishly praying that someone would come by, while a growing portion of it was wanting something that she did not completely understand; had never understood.
Breathing heavily now, Christine felt the moistened finger slowly enter her vagina from behind. Gee chuckled and said something in Korean to Sohn who laughed.
“He said the white bitch is wet.”
Christine opened her eyes to see one of the interpreters, a taller young woman, as tall as the two men, with enchanting dark, almost black, eyes and striking jet-black hair, tied back in a pony-tail, standing beside the table in front of her and smiling. “That’s you, white bitch,” the woman smiled.
“Can’t you help me?” Christine whispered, to which the girl replied. “I work for them, American whore. Just cooperate and they will be done with you in a few moments. I know you white ladies love this,” she smirked.
Both men now had fingers inserted into Christine’s vagina and they were pumping them vigorously. Christine next felt the unmistakeable pressure of a tongue on her anus, as Sohn had dropped to his knees behind her, actually spreading her cheeks, doing something no one, including steady Brian, had ever done to her, as he was now licking her anus aggressively.
All the while, the very attractive Korean woman stood, wearing an odd look, and blocking any view from the front. She was smiling, even gently stroking Christine’s face every now and then.
Christine sensed movement and then the girl actually reached out and turned Christine’s face so she could watch as the men jerked off behind her. They were greatly aroused and both came, one after the other, quickly, using Christine’s lace panties to clean up their spunk.
Both men now leaned against the young woman for a moment, as the interpreter turned her head back to the front. Then, laughing, they dressed Christine in the wet panties and her pantyhose, before kissing her on the side of her face and heading off, still chuckling.
The woman smiled and murmured, “Both men will have high praise for you. Miss, Callister. Whore.”
Christine stood staring at this woman for several moments, not moving, not calling out. Nodding, the Korean raised her eyebrows and smiled, then held out her hand, saying, “Come, white bitch.”
As if in a dream, Christine picked up her shoes and took the young woman’s hand and was led down a side hall to a washroom, where she and the Korean quickly entered, moving to the last stall and darting in.
The woman authoritatively spun Christine around so she was facing the back wall and pushed her forward so she was supporting her weight over the toilet, hands against the bricks. The woman then bent down and pulled Christine’s dress up and tucked it again into the belt, before completely pulling off the panty hose and the wet panties, which she placed with mild resistance into Christine’s mouth.
Christine felt dazed, light-headed; but mostly humiliated, because she wanted this woman to continue, to do whatever was in her mind.
She now felt a tongue on her sex and she arched her back and ass to make it easier for this aggressive woman to reach her pussy. “Your dirty hole,” her mother had called it. A surge of incredible arousal spread through Christine now as the woman’s tongue slithered in and out of her wet sex and up to her anus.
“Only filthy whores actually enjoy down there, young lady. Filthy. Whores,” her mother had hissed, slapping young Christine’s naked bottom, after finding the girl touching herself. “Sinful!”
But right now Christine didn’t care about her mother’s warnings. While she had felt arousal before, she was now feeling something she had never actually, amazingly, experienced in her life; a growing orgasm.
The Korean was clearly experienced and sucked and nibbled expertly, tongue and fingers darting into both wet holes, until Christine’s muffled cries and strong leg muscle spasms announced the black-haired woman had been successful. She removed the panties from Christine’s mouth, whispering, “I will keep these; whore.”
The next thing Christine heard was the stall door closing and then water running; and then she was alone, still breathing heavily, after experiencing the most intense pleasure of her life. She leaned against the stall, an incredible smile spread across her lovely face, with her mind struggling to process all this.
* * * *
Virginia was still naked, only now she was sitting on the couch, her hands, which had been bound by Anne, still behind her back. Anne had left, though, and Beverly, also naked, considered the time. She reached over and tweaked a nipple, eliciting another plea from her mother to not ‘do anything’.
She didn’t really want to ‘do anything’; well, not yet anyway. She had no overwhelming sexual attraction to her mother, although she had as a teen fantasized about touching her mother’s body. But, she was now enjoying this.
Beverly liked her mother okay, but did not respect her, mostly because of the choices the woman had made, to live her life in the shadows, while her husband did his thing.
She intended to punish her mother; not severely, but on her terms, as she wished; just because.
Beverly took another photograph, this time with her mother’s legs spread wide and the wine bottle inserted as far in as it would safely go; she had now taken over a dozen snaps; a friend would develop these; they were not the kind one took to a regular photo shop.
* * * *
Christine lay on top of her covers in a light negligee; Margie was down getting ready for bed. To say her mind was full would be inaccurate; it was overflowing. The ride back home had been surreal, with Christine acting perfectly normal with her boss. Even when he leaned over and kissed her cheek gently, then smiled at her; she had acted pleasant, friendly and undisturbed.
Even after the hubbub of all the girls coming back around the same time and clamoring for the washroom, she had chatted and kidded with the crew as if nothing had happened to her.
And now she lay, with emotions literally rushing through her; guilt, desire, fear, amazement; wonder.
When Margie came in, the young woman paused and slipped off her pyjama bottoms before coming and sitting on the edge of Christine’s bed. She reached over and gently stroked her roommate’s face, “So, how’d you do, girl?” she asked with a smile.
“It was, an amazing night,” Christine murmured, not reacting to her naked roommate. Then, without any plan, she started, “Um, can I ask you something, personal, Margie, and you’ll probably laugh, ‘cuz I’m so lame.”
“Hey, ask away, Chris. You’re not lame, all right, just not educated in, um, some things; but I’ll try to help. And I won’t tease, okay?”
Christine smiled. “You know that thing that happens, sometimes when you, um, have sex; with guys the stuff comes out…”
“We call it jizz, what the guy shoots out of his pecker. It’s actually called semen, hey.”
Christine nodded, filing that away. “Okay, yeah, but, girls have something like that, without the, um, jizz-stuff, don’t they?”
Margie smiled and reached out again to gently brush away some dark strands of hair and then lightly stroke Christine’s arm, something that Christine found, lovely. “You mean the big ‘O’, the little death, the angels singing,” Margie said.
“And you cry out, and your legs go, uh, like goofy?” Christine added.
Margie laughed, “Yeah, but it’s different each time and it’s different with every woman. Why are you asking?”
“You’ve had one?”
“Sure. A couple. Mostly it’s with my best friend helping.”
“Your friend helps you?” Christine asked in amazement, trying to picture the situation.
Margie laughed out loud and held up her right hand. “This friend,” she grinned. Christine nodded as the realization hit and then she looked down. “Ah, I see,” Margie murmured, looking intently at her roommate. “You’ve got problems with…diddling?” Christine did not comment and Margie went on, “I’m guessing religious, hmmmmm? Your mom?”
Christine looked up, “Um, well, lots of bad stuff can happen with, um, sex…”
Margie nodded her head, “Some. But not from this. It
feels good, right? And most guys don’t have a clue how to make us feel right. Your mom and my mom thought lying there and doing your duty was what sex was about.”
Both women sat now in thought, then Margie got up and went over to the wardrobe, rummaging around. She returned carrying a book, which she gave to Christine, “Read this,” she said quietly.
Christine looked at it, “The Feminine Mystique?”
“Yeah, just read it, with an open mind. But lose the guilt, Chris. Forget all that bible crap. I mean it. That’s just a bunch of guys trying to keep women in their place. Do this. Don’t do that. Damn it. Simple as that.”
Christine looked up. “You…don’t believe in God?”
Margie snorted. “This isn’t about God. I believe, um, in something. But I don’t believe some old guy is watching my every move. If I want to diddle my quim and it feels good, what does God care? It’s, um, horseshit, okay. Men might care, they do care, actually, about us doing what we’re told, being obedient. It’s even in the marriage vows. But God, whatever he is, doesn’t care about our pussies.”
Christine nodded, checking this against what she believed; it was reassuring to have another woman say what she thought. They were both silent again, then Margie leaned over and kissed Christine gently on the lips, saying “Hit the hay,” then she started walking back to her bed.
Impulsively, and completely unlike her, or unlike how she presented herself, Christine called out, “Margie, wait; will you, um, please s-stay with me?”
Margie stopped and turned around, a small smile on her face, then walked back to the bed and lay down beside her roommate, kissing her cheek, ”Sure, tall, dark and lovely. I’m right here for you.”
Christine turned on her side and pressed her back and hips against the slightly smaller girl as Margie draped her arms around Christine’s body, one hand gently cupping a breast. And so they lay, and drifted off.
* * * *
“What do you want those pictures for?” Virginia asked quietly, now in her nightwear as she and Beverly sat across from each other.
Beverly shrugged, “Not sure, mother dear. It’s just kind of a blast looking at them. I have no blackmail plans, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
Virginia studied her daughter, a girl she clearly did not know as well as she thought; if at all. Just then they heard the front door opening; Martha was returning from her night off.
* * * *
Hie Dhang was on the line to her only superior in America. They were speaking Korean, and the discussion concerned how the evening’s event had progressed. Dhang mentioned that apart from some good general development, she had likely found a girl who could be of assistance to them. Her superior told her to pursue it as she wished; she was experienced in these matters.
Dhang smiled as she hung up the receiver; then she picked up the black panties that were lying on her desk; they were still slightly damp. She smiled. The beautiful girl might be of assistance to her government; but possibly more so to herself. She was seldom wrong with young women, especially naturally submissive ones.
* * * *
Anne opened the door to the gentle knock and grinned at Beverly. “Hey, sailor, in town long?”
Beverly laughed and came in, “Depends. Much action around here?”
Anne unzipped her jeans and let them fall to the floor, then laughed, pulling them back up. “Your mom did a number on my clam, so hope you don’t mind if we just smoke, get mellow and cuddle?”
She picked up the joint lying on the end table and lit it, then passed it to Beverly who was now stretched out on the bed in Anne’s little flat. It wasn’t nearly as nice or as large as Paul’s, but it worked as a home base.
Beverly took the joint and sucked, inhaling deeply before passing it back. She held the smoke for a long time, before coughing, then smiling, and accepting the joint’s return.
“So, what’s your plan for mommy-dear, or do you have one?” Anne asked, evenly.
Beverly closed her eyes; she didn’t really have a plan as such; she just liked the idea of controlling her mother. Her parents were the reason she took off and travelled through Europe and beyond for over two years. She had even gone through one stretch of more than a year when she had had no contact with them at all.
Then, when she had returned, it was on her terms and with her life the focus, not what her parents, or their world, wanted. “Not sure I have anything like a plan; kinda makin’ it up as I go along, hey.”
“You still want me to, um, do stuff? I have some things of my own coming up, chief.”
“Hey, not a problem, you take care of business; I have what I need, for now. Anything I should know about?”
Anne got up and crossed to her dresser, where a small, portable turn-table was sitting. “Naw, nothing specific just yet,” she said, picking up a forty-five record and placing it on the device. The needle moved over and dropped as Anne went back to the bed, pulling Beverly up by her arm.
“Whatcha’ doin’?” Beverly asked.
“I want you to dance for me, lover. C’mon, I did stuff for you tonight. Now dance and strip; entertain me.” Anne flopped down on the bed as Beverly smiled and began to sway to the music. It was Tommy James; Crystal Blue Persuasion. “Better get ready,” Anne sang, “gonna see the light.”
Beverly slid her jeans and then her panties down, pulling off her top. She was as usual not wearing a bra. She cupped a breast and brought it up, snaking her tongue out to lick it, “Like this?” she murmured.
“Oh yeah…” Anne laughed, unzipping her pants and sliding her hand inside. “Just look to your soul, and open your mind…” She sang, as Beverly picked up a hairbrush, slowly inserting the handle into herself as she stood in profile before the bed, her hips moving with the groove and for Anne’s eyes.
(End of Chapter 04)