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Who killed all the past queens and may now be hunting Anna?
"Faster now. It's nearly ..." Her words dissolving into the orgasmic eruption, she braced herself on her heels so as to push her pelvis against Karen's mouth, while the younger woman grasped her buttocks from below to maintain their intimate connection until the spasms had completely subsided.
(For a while, Tricia had managed to cope with the new appointments herself - sometimes with the participation of Valentino - but it became apparent that they would need assistance. Recruiting took time. They rejected responses to their advertisements from young girls who might be indiscreet, preferring women in their mid-to-late twenties who were already qualified and experienced in the beauty business. Conducting the interviews, Tricia's bisexual experience gave her an instinct for the kind of person she was seeking. Replies to carefully phrased questions told her when she was on the right track. And so she had discovered Martine, a thirty-year-old redhead, and Karen, the twenty-four year old blonde; both had been happy to audition with Tricia. When the salary scale had been agreed, they were also amenable to having Valentino as an observer.)
"When you are ready, I would like to continue." Mrs Ford-Ramsey had wiped the perspiration from her breasts with a towel and was fully recovered from her earlier energetic engagement. "I still have time, Valentino, haven't I?"
"Laura, my dear. You know that you have as much time as you need. Shall we open the drawer?"
"You understand me very well. Yes, please."
Valentino handed a key to Karen who went to a cabinet and removed a tray which she carried to her client for inspection. The woman waved it away. She knew well from previous visits the range of vibrators and dildoes that were displayed, but she had been promised a new treat. "The strap-on," she said, "you have it?"
"We endeavour to keep our promises," said Valentino. "Karen will be pleased to demonstrate, but I think a little lubrication may be required the first time."
(Salon policy had always been not to enquire into a client's personal circumstances. They came for a specific service, paid handsomely and could go away confident that total discretion would prevail. Nevertheless, it was surprising how many women were willing to disclose details of their private lives; it was as though they came to the salon as if to confession, needing to justify their desires. Laura Ford-Ramsey's story was not untypical. Her husband had a number of directorships in the City, keeping him in London during the week. In addition, there were week-end invitations to shooting parties and gold tournaments. She wondered whether he had another companion for his London bed, but the possibility didn't disturb her greatly. He was no great performer when he was at home, she said, but he kept her in a style she wouldn't be able to afford on her own. Happily, the combination of his money, his absences and the availability of Salon Valentino provided for all her needs. And sexually, her needs were great.)
Karen, already topless, stepped out of the pale lilac knickers and adjusted the harness of the strap-on dildo. It was black, some six inches long and - according to the packaging that came with it - of medium/slim girth. Valentino, meanwhile, was letting fall small drops of baby oil on to Mrs Ford-Ramsey's spread vulva, pausing from time to time to massage it into the puffy folds.
A small groan from Mrs Ford-Ramsey indicated her approval. Her hips picked up the rhythm of his fingers and began to gyrate slowly.
"Careful now," said Valentino. "Unless you want to come again quickly."
"That's exactly what I do want. Now I've started, I can keep going. Please carry on."
She closed her eyes and bit her lip; some kind of internal fantasy may have been fuelling her desires for she suddenly clenched her thighs, trapping Valentino's hand, holding him there until, with a sigh, she released him.
"Number two," she said. "Different, but still good."
(They had learned to cater for the different expectations and the varyin