Lying on the large, double bed, Harriet sleepily eased her naked body onto its side and the hollow gold crucifix around her pale neck slipped lovingly between her large, firm breasts. Her body heat gradually warmed the red pubic hair folded neatly within.
She opened her eyes - remembering.
Today was the first anniversary of Sonia's death and Harriet intended to visit the grave of her former lover.
Tears crept into the corner of her eyes as she recalled their meeting at Eleznick's cafe and her dicovery that day of her bisexuality.
"Sentimental me," she murmured softly into the crushed, feather pillow.
In the almost deserted cemetery parking lot, Harriet left her car and walked the remaining hundred yards to Sonia's grave. Approaching the secluded spot between the spread of two ancient elm trees she saw a young woman kneel and place a large floral wreath on the early morning damp earth.
The woman had long, flaming red hair that shone like a beacon in the sunlight. The slight breeze lazily shifting its lustrous waviness.
Harriet stopped; held her breath, tightly grasping her own floral tribute.
The woman stood up and turned towards her and for one heart stopping moment Harriet thought it was Sonia.
Closer scrutiny revealed that it was a near likeness but not her former lover. The lips were thinner and the nose, straighter and longer. Nevertheless, it was still a very beautiful face.
'Who is she?' Harriet had to know.
She moved closer towards the grave.
"I'm sorry to intrude on your grief," said Harriet. "If you wish I can come back later."
"No. Please stay. Are you... were you a friend of Sonia's?" asked the young woman, quizzically. "Only, I can't recall seeing you at the funeral."
"I was a very close friend... but was unable to attend. Are you related to Sonia?" asked Harriet.
"I'm Marisa, her younger sister. You are...?"
Harriet extended her hand and lightly held onto Marisa's pleasantly cool hand, it was at that moment that she caught the woman's full fragrance.
It had been Sonia's favourite perfume.
"Harriet... Harriet Edwards," she muttered, slightly bewitched by Marisa's likeness and scent. "May I place my flowers with yours?"
Marisa gazed intently at her as Harriet hurriedly bent down and arranged the flowers.
"Sonia spoke of you," said Marisa, "We held no secrets from each other and I hope I don't embarrass you when I say that she loved you a great deal... I can see why."
Harriet blushed as she stood up and turned towards Marisa.
"It's kind of you to say so." Tears welled in her eyes, her voice was heavy with emotion as Harriet continued, "I loved Sonia..." She held eye contact with Marisa, "... so very much." She shook her head as if to throw off an emotional weight. "If you know who I am," she said more assertively, "then you know that it was my ex-husband who killed her."
"Yes, I know but I don't hold that against you. In fact I can understand your feelings. Could we be friends?" asked Marisa, smiling warmly.
Harriet beamed delightedly. "I was going to ask you the same question."
They hugged each other tightly like old friends meeting again for the first time in many years; each shed an emotional tear.
During the next two weeks Harriet and Marisa met frequently during the evenings.
Harriet knew that Marisa was still a 'working girl' and could not see her every evening.
Although they were from totally different backgrounds they found much to talk about and of course the common bond between them was the shared love of a bitter-sweet memory.
Each evening's conversation brought Harriet revelations from the two sister's childhood that intrigued and provoked her into more intimate inquiries. It was late one evening after Marisa had drunk too much that she eventually related the full story of their upbringing.
An aunt in Cleveland, Ohio had raised the two girls after the tragic death of their parents in a road accident when they were very young.
The aunt had no idea that her male lodger regularly abused the girls.
Not until Sonia was of an age to properly understand what was happening did she take matters into her own hands. One evening when she went to his room she also took a long, sharp kitchen knife with her. He awoke to a stinging pain and wetness between his legs. His penis was missing. They never found where she buried his manhood.
Upon his discharge from hospital he moved out of the neighbourhood and the girls never saw him again but the events of those years left deep psychological scars that occasionally resurfaced during adolescence. In Sonia's case it manifested itself whenever she made love in the dark. She froze when touched and could not enjoy any foreplay.
When she was eighteen Sonia found a special love with an older, more understanding man. She nurtured this relationship for a number of years. It helped to overcome her sexual fears and provide the foundation for a sexual awakening that she wanted to share with her sister.
One weekend they teamed together, making love to this same man. It was an intimate occasion that gave both girls an insight into their sexuality and what love could be achieved without fear or pain. The man was impressed with them and suggested that their talents could be financially rewarding for them all. For a small percentage of their earnings he would set them up in business as high-class escorts.
For a number of years they quietly earned a great deal of money and built a substantial clientele. Everyone was satisfied with their role until one hot, stifling July evening, an out of state Senator whispered to Sonia that there was more money to be made in Washington.
"...you'd be nearer to me, too honey. Nearer to where the big money is and where the action lies," he said, knowingly, his large, white hands roughly squeezing her large breasts as she sat astride him, his huge erection sending waves of pleasure within her vagina.
By September they were in business for themselves. They rented an apartment in a block whose residents cared nothing for their lively business.
The Senator had his 'sexual freebies' while promoting the names of new clients. The girls' services were in constant demand among the affluent society in which they now found themselves.
They were riding the crest of a wave when the police raided their apartment. They were charged and convicted of prostitution.
Instead of prison sentences they received only a heavy fine, thanks mainly to some monetary sweeteners given to the judge provided by their friend the Senator. It wiped out their savings and afterwards the Senator told them they were on their own and were not to contact any of their clients or him again.
The sister's knew they had reached a turning point in their lives. It was time for each to go their separate way.
Out of the blue Sonia received a phone call from Frances, a high class Madame, who had seen her in the media and wanted Sonia on her books. She eagerly agreed and during this period Sonia gave part of her income to finance Marisa until Marisa met Carlos who became her pimp.
That evening, as Harriet listened intently to the full story of Marisa and Sonia's life, her emotions were in turmoil. She understood that Marisa was a totally different person to Sonia and Marisa could never replace her feelings she had shared with Sonia. She saw the pain in Marisa's eyes and felt a need to reach out and protect her from further harm or degradation.
Following their third large drink, and during a lull in the conversation, she stood up and walked over to the couch where Marisa was sitting. Harriet seated herself close to her, took Marisa's glass and placed it carefully on the small occasional table. She grasped Marisa's hands in her own. Speaking softly, her voice deep with emotion she said, "Marisa, when we first met you asked if we could be friends and you must know that your friendship means a great deal to me. What I'm offering you is the opportunity for you to quit your work and live with me..."
Harriet raised Marisa's fingers to her lips and kissed them.
"I'm not making this offer lightly. I've really become very fond of you these past few weeks." She kissed Marisa's fingers again. "Please say you'll stay."
"I'm flattered by your offer, Harriet... I... I don't know quite what to say. I'm not stupid. I know that you might consider my friendship a close alternative to my dead sister's. But I would rather be with you every day than force myself to have sex with the type of client that Carlos seems to find for me these days."
"It's true, I can understand your fears," said Harriet, gazing warmly into Marisa's dark brown eyes. "You remind me a great deal of Sonia but I'm asking you as a person to be my friend not the image of my former lover. That is the difference between wanting you and perpetuating my feelings for someone who has gone out of my life. Will you stay?"
"Are you realy fond of me, Harriet or is this just a phase that you are going through and next week I could find myself back on the streets with no help from Carlos once..." She stopped in mid sentence. "What are we going to do about Carlos? He's hardly likely to shake my hand and say goodbye to his only meal ticket."
Harriet grasped Marisa's hands tightly. "Leave Carlos to me. I know people who owe me enough favours to put him somewhere out of harm's way. Carlos is less important to me at the moment than to our continuing relationship. I've asked myself some soul-searching questions and found that I love being with you. I enjoy your company. I want you with me all the time not just a few evenings a week. I miss you when you're not here. There's a void inside me that only you can fill and where money is concerned I'll honour any outstanding financial commitments you may have. And, so that you may feel free to leave at any time, I'll even place ten thousand dollars into your account. I don't want you to feel that's a bribe. It isn't. It's to show that I care enough to ensure that you won't want to leave. I'll also arrange for an acceptable weekly allowance to be paid into your checking account."
Marisa sat quietly with her head bowed deep in thought. "You won't hurt Carlos will you?" she eventually said. "Financially Carlos has been good to me over the years but I can't seem to break free of him."
"No, I won't hurt him, just place him somewhere safe for a while."
Looking directly into Harriet's eyes Marisa said, "Then I accept your offer, Harriet, but apart from being your companion what else am I going to do to occupy the days?"
"Well, as I said earlier I've given it some thought and, if you're agreeable, we can start straight away on re-educating you to become my personal secretary..."
"Secretary... But I don't have..."
"Don't worry about what you don't have," interjected Harriet, "I'll make sure it's provided. I'll personally oversee your education. It'll take time. I don't expect you to become a qualified secretary in the next six months. It most likely will take at least a couple of years."
"Thanks, Harriet. It seems a rather inadequate word for what you are giving me," said Marisa, inching forward in her seat and as Harriet released her hands Marisa wrapped her arms gratefully around Harriet and hugged her tightly. She affectionately kissed Harriet's cheek.
Their eyes locked.
A close observer would have seen a momentary search for refusal.
A fleeting downward glance at the others lips.
They leaned forward. Their lips met.
At first they kissed slowly, tentatively, then, as their initial inhibitions quietened their passions engulfed them.
Harriet broke free and cupping Marisa's face in her hands. "Marisa," she gasped, gazing wantonly into her eyes, "I want you," she said.
Marisa said nothing but casually stood up and Harriet led her by the hand out of the room towards the stairs.
The bedroom was awash with moonlight as they slowly undressed each other. Harriet remembered the first time she and Sonia had made love in a frenzied manner but now she brought a deliberate slowness to her actions. Lust's embers burned brightly between them as they gazed wantonly at one another's bodies. Their kisses aroused their passion as they fell onto the bed. Surrounded by silvery moonlight they tenderly caressed each others breasts and thighs.
Marisa arose and straddled Harriet's stomach, her hands clutched Harriet's wrists pressing them onto the mattress above her head. Leaning down she intimately kissed Harriet's mouth, then, licking and kissing her way down over her neck, she moved her wet mouth onto Harriet's ample right breast. Instantly engulfing the long, dark rosebud that flowered under her warm tongue's delicate touch. Harriet sighed. Marisa's long wavy hair teased and tickled Harriet's hot, sensitive skin. She closed her eyes and moaned as delicate fingertips awakened her other nipple into maturity.
Harriet broke free from Marisa's hands and stroked the backs of her fingernails down over Marisa's cool slender back, down towards her small, firm delectable buttocks then along her smooth thighs. She arched her neck and moaned when Marisa's teeth pulled gently at her long, fleshy nipple. Her own hands caressed upwards towards Marisa's own pert breasts. Breast's that hung like two ripe apples on the bough. She gently rotated her palms on Marisa's already excited pink nipples. Marissa arched her head and moaned loudly. She turned around on the bed and with her knees straddling Harriet's body she delved down into Harriet's bushy mons. Her arms went under and around Harriet's thighs; both hands free to explore and probe Harriet's moist, fleshy, pussy lips; lips that, for some considerable time, had not felt the loving, slippery caress of a hot, wet tongue. Each wet stroke from Marisa's tongue brought a pleasurable groan and an upward thrust from Harriet's pelvis. Harriet's clitoris engorged with desire protruded to electrify and stimulate her desire.
Harriet's own exquisite outpouring of emotion manifested itself by clasping both hands up over Marisa's back and she lifted herself up to tongue Marisa's clitoris into full bloom.
For a while they stayed locked in this position each woman hungrily devouring the other; each savourig the delights of Lesbos, until they sensed the other's approaching orgasm. Both manipulating their tongues in an intense effort to bring the other first to orgasm.
They came simultaneously, crying out in the glow of their passion. As each climax waned they lay side by side panting in each other's arms. Their laboured breathing fanning flushed faces.
They kissed as lovers kiss, deep and long, tongues entwined, tasting the nectar of each other's love.
Harriet spoke first. "Oh, that was beautiful, Marisa." She leaned forward and kissed her new lover.
Marisa responded by returning her kiss with an intensity of feeling that touched Harriet's heartstrings. She cried. Tears flowed copiously down her cheeks to mingle with their kiss.
Breaking the seal of their lips Marisa said ernestly, "Harriet what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Marisa... Nothing's wrong at all. I'm just extremely happy and glad that you've brought warmth to this bed."
"I'll keep us warm forever, Harriet."
They showered and slept till eleven the following morning.
During the day Harriet used a public call box so the call wouldn't be traced back to her. She phoned the Police Commissioner concerning Carlos. Two days later he was arrested for possession and dealing in illegal substances. Three weeks later he was tried and convicted, receiving a two to four year prison sentence.
This was a blissful time for the two lovers. Their minds, emotions and bodies were entwined. Joy adorned their faces for the world to see.
At home, Marisa studied intensely for eight hours each day, five days a week. Her paid female tutor was impressed with her ability to grasp subjects quickly and to ask probing questions.
At the weekend the two lovers would spend hours together attuning their bodies to a sexual pitch that culminated in earth shattering climaxes. Once they became familiar with each other's bodies they enjoyed making love in the surrounding grounds of the house. This sexual enjoyment progressed further as they made love in public places; anywhere there was a certain amount of risk at being caught, 'in flagrante delicto.'
Their love games became intense journeys into erotic stimulation. Each partner tempting the other into more outrageous situations.
Harriet didn't appear to care too much that if she'd been recognized her position as a lawyer could so easily have become compromised.
An onlooker may have recalled what Shakespeare wrote in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
In their minds, a cloak of intimacy was thrown over them; concealing them from the eyes of an inquisitive world.
It was nine months later that Harriet broached the subject of Marisa having her face remodelled so that when Carlos was eventually released from prison if ever he saw her he wouldn't recognise her.
"Harriet, you forget I know you. I know how your mind works. What you really want is for me to look like Sonia. But I can live with that. You have given me so much and if it pleases you to see me as Sonia then yes, I'll do it. But remember, my name is Marisa and I'll always be Marisa no matter who I may resemble."
The surgeon at the clinic was more than pleased with the results of his work once the residual bandages were removed some weeks after the operation.
Her nose instead of being broad and straight was now smaller and angular when viewed in profile, her lips thicker, more fuller.
She looked exactly like her dead sister.
"My dear," said the consultant surgeon as he said goodbye, "you were beautiful when you arrived but you are more glamorous with your departure. It pains me to see you go," flirtatiously kissing the back of her hand.
"Doctor, you say the most romantic things. But do you truly mean them or are they simply additional tools of your trade?" asked Marisa, perceptively.
That evening when Harriet walked into the lounge, Marisa had dressed for the occasion. She wore some of Sonia's old clothes that she'd managed to keep hidden from Harriet.
Her coifed hair gave her added height, while tiny strands of coiled hair hung down beside her delicate ears. The sheer white satin blouse accentuated her bare breasts and was tucked inside a pink mini skirt that clung sensuously to her black silk pantyhose. Long leather boots swept up from the floor molding each thigh.
"Good evening Harriet," said Marisa, hands on hips, standing beside the open log fireplace. The room's only illumination came from the flickering flames as they backlit her figure. Shadows danced over her breasts. As she breathed deeply her aroused nipples clearly showed what she felt.
"You look... stunning," gasped an admiring Harriet, "I'm not sure what I expected but now... Well, I'm lost for words. Except to say, Marisa, I love you."
"Harriet, I love you too."
Eighteen months later Marisa passed her exams with distinction and became Harriet's full time legal secretary.
They immediately become involved in a criminal case that involved a great deal of media attention. Harriet hated this close scrutiny but endeavoured to maintain her poise amidst the barrage of questions aimed at her. The questions became more personal as the interviews progressed throughout the trial period and she was aware that her relationship with Marisa could be exposed at any time should the media delve deep enough.
One evening, when out dining with Marisa, a photographer caught them emerging from the restaurant and their picture made the following day's tabloid papers.
In Baltimore Penitentiary, Robert Edwards sat on his bunk eating an apple and reading the newspaper. As he turned the page Harriet's picture leapt out from the jungle of text. His heart raced when he saw the face of the person beside her. He could not believe it. It was Sonia. And yet...
The picture caption read, 'Even a lawyer and her secretary have to eat sometime.'
'Her secretary? What's going on? Why is my ex-wife with someone who is the image of the woman I killed? How did she meet her? Who is she?' His mind boiled with questions and more questions. He had to have answers and as the days passed he knew he had to escape; to break out and find the woman who'd incarcerated him. That's when he formulated his escape plan.
It was time for him to act.
Two months later, on a wet and windy March evening he found himself dressed in jogging clothes on the other side of the high wire fence. He squinted his eyes up at the guard towers; no sign of movement. He ran to the corner of the street that snaked away in the direction of the Potomac river and jogged for two miles. The streets looked much the same but he had memorised the route. As he rounded the corner of one street he saw the jeep with the keys in the ignition. Its shape was a relief to his aching limbs. The favours he had called in had been paid in full.
The following evening, knowing that the police would be watching Harriet's home, he parked opposite her offices.
At around seven Harriet emerged with Marisa. He locked the vehicle and followed them on foot.
Robert had negotiated arrangements for both a vehicle, a complete change of clothes and enough money to fund his disappearance. The new shoes slightly pinched his right foot but otherwise the dark suit and raincoat allowed him to blend in with the early evening commuters heading for home.
He followed the women into the Rock Hotel situated a few blocks from Harriet's offices.
"Convenient," he muttered.
He managed to overhear Marisa say to the receptionist, '...Twenty-six,' before he discreetly moved towards the bathroom area.
After washing his hands he decided on a course of action and he left the building through the main entrance. He made his way around to the back and waited in the shadows of the covered delivery area.
It was almost an hour later before a man dressed as a concierge pushed open a fire exit door and began to smoke a cigarette. Robert crept stealthily towards him grasping a discarded heavy piece of wood. He clubbed the man over the head and caught his unconscious body before it hit the ground.
He dragged him inside and shut the door. Looking around he found a broom cupboard that would hide the man's body and as fast as he could he changed his outer clothes for those worn by the concierge.
Once dressed, he bound and gagged the unconscious figure with strips of cloth he found in the cupboard. He made his way to the kitchen and surreptitiously picked up a tray containing some drinks and a few sandwiches. It was time to head for the elevator and room twenty-six.
The balding, middle aged male receptionist, glanced nonchalantly at Robert as he stood waiting for the elevator.
It arrived and he stepped inside, careful not to reveal his face.
"Harriet," said Marisa, leaning against the bathroom doorway dressed only in her underwear, "shall we eat out tonight or arrange for something to be sent up, only I'm starving now?"
"If you're that hungry, darling," said Harriet, absently filing her nails and dressed only in her dark blue, silk night robe, "then we'll have something sent up. What shall we have? I know, two steak sandwiches and two Caesar salads with some Californian wine to lighten the evening. How does that sound to you?"
"It's making my mouth water. I'll phone room service now."
Marisa walked over to the bedside phone and gave them her order. As she replaced the receiver she asked, "Do you suppose Robert will try to contact you or are the police being their usual over-protective self?"
"I'm not sure what he'll do but they said that up until the time of his escape he'd been a model prisoner. I wonder what made him suddenly decide to escape? When he's recaptured he'll only have to serve extra time."
Ten minutes later a gentle knock at the door startled them. Harriet went into the bathroom as Marisa quickly dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans and went to the door.
"Who is it?" she called out.
"Room service, ma'am," a male voice replied.
"Just a moment," she said, unlocking the door. Marisa moved aside to allow the waiter into the room and was immediately struck a solid blow on the back of the neck. She went out like a light.
Harriet heard the fall. "Marisa..." she said, emerging from the bathroom.
"Robert...? You... What have you done to her?" cried Harriet, rushing to Marisa's aid.
"Quiet, bitch," said Robert, bending over Marisa, holding a knife to her throat. "Stay back. Get onto the bed and lay there on your back. Tell me where you keep your stockings?"
"Stockings? In the bedside cabinet. Second drawer... but Robert why are you here? What madness is this? The police..."
Angrily he said, "Quiet and I meant it," he said, finding four packages of unopened stockings. "I ask the questions. You answer."
He ripped open the wrapping and quickly bound her hands and feet to the bed. She lay spread-eagled, frightened and worried for Marisa who had not moved.
Robert lifted Marisa under the armpits and dragged her into the bathroom where he used the other two pairs of stockings to bind her hands and feet. He stuffed some cotton wool in a stocking and used it as a gag. He left her lying in the bath with her hands bound to the main taps.
The remaining stocking and cotton wool were used as a makeshift gag. He placed the gag on the table beside the bed.
"Now, you bitch," he said, straddling her body, "you're going to tell me what happened that evening when I killed that whore."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Robert, I wasn't there, remember?" She glared up at him.
He slapped her cheek, hard.
"I don't believe you. I think you were there, at the hotel. I believe you knew Sonia. It was something she said that evening, then, when I read the paper and saw the picture of you, together with that bitch I've just tied up in the bathroom, I knew there had to be more to it than just coincidence. Who is she and why are you two sharing a room?"
"She's Sonia's sister and the police thought it would be better if we shared a room to make it easier for them to stake-out," said Harriet, aware that if she told him now of her affair with Marisa, then by implication he'd know she'd also had an affair with Sonia.
Robert visciously slapped her other cheek. Harriet cried out at the stinging pain.
"The truth bitch," he growled in her face. "I know when you lie to me. From the moment we met I lived with your lies, half-truths and whispered innuendo. Robert can't father a child," he mimicked. "Didn't you realise that Robert's impotent? Well he isn't, bitch. It's you who can't have children but you wouldn't admit to it being your fault. Oh no, much to proud for that to happen..." He wrenched aside her gown and released the clasp on her front opening brassiere. Her firm breasts spilled out.
"So, Harriet are you feeling proud now. Are you going to tell me the truth or am I going to fuck the truth from you?"
"No Robert, please. I can't tell you what I don't know. Please don't do this. If I knew anything I would tell..." His fist cracked against her jaw. The force of the punch knocked her senseless. "Bitch," he cried, tearing her flimsy, high cut, cotton panties from around her waist and flinging them across the room.
Robert rolled off the bed in a rage and went into the bathroom to check on Marisa. She was still unconscious. In a rage Robert ripped the towel rail from the wall and was about to bring it down on her head when there was a knock on the outer door.
"Room service," said a male voice.
"Just a minute," he cried out, placing the rail beside the bath. He slipped out of the waistcoat and rushed into the bedroom. He quickly covered Harriet's nakedness with the bedspread and tied the gag to her mouth, then opened the door slightly. "Can I take it from you here as my wife's fallen asleep on the bed and I don't want to disturb her? She's had a long day."
"Sure, no problem, sir," said the fair haired young man, handing him the tray.
"Thanks, oh, here..." said Robert, handing him a five dollar bill.
The concierge gushed, "Thank you sir, sleep well."
Robert closed and locked the door. He lay the tray on the floor and looked at the food. It had been a long time since his last full meal and he suddenly felt extremely hungry. In ten minutes he'd devoured everything. The wine acted like an aphrodisiac. He went to the bed and uncovered Harriet's nude body.
'Strange,' he thought, 'in all the time we were together she never once made love to me with the light on.'
He picked up the knife from the bedside table and slit along the sleeves of her dressing gown from her wrists to her shoulders. The gown slipped easily out from under her nudity as he pulled at its silkiness and dropped the ruined garment onto the floor.
Gazing at his former wife's nude body he appreciated that for a woman of forty-two she still possessed a remarkably trim figure. 'But then,' he thought, 'she's not had stretch marks or worry wrinkles from having children.'
He stripped off his remaining clothes and untied her gag. She moaned and rolled her head.
"Wake up, sleepy head," he said, roughly slapping her reddened cheeks.
Her eyes opened and she groaned.
"No it's not a bad dream, Harriet it's real and it's going to get worse, a whole lot worse. Now tell me the truth."
"Nothing to tell," murmured Harriet. "Water. I must have a drink. Please Robert. Just a small drink of water."
"Nothing, until you start explaining. I meant what I said earlier Harriet, either you talk or I fuck you and, if I believe what I sense then it will be even more of a hardship for you to accept me inside you... after being so long with a woman."
"I keep telling you there's nothing to explain. So, get on with it, Robert."
"I've a better idea, Harriet. If you don't respect your own body I wonder what it would feel like to watch while I make love to your secretary. Perhaps that will jog your memory?"
"No Robert," she pleaded. "Leave her out of this. What happens now is between you and me... as it always has been."
"Fuck you Harriet I'm the one who says what and who I fuck. Watch," he said, forcing the gag back into her mouth and retying the stocking behind her head.
Robert got off the bed and went into the bathroom. Minutes later he came back out with Marisa's body. She was now fully conscious. Her eyes betraying the inner fear she felt at their desperate situation.
Robert carried her over his shoulder into the bedroom. Marisa's eyes opened wider as he placed her head first over the arm of the sofa chair and undid the belt to her jeans. He yanked down the zip and pulled the jeans and her cotton panties down around her ankles. Using the knife he expertly slit up the back of her t-shirt. He unclasped her bra and cut away the remaining shirt fabric.
"Hmm, nice body babe," he quipped, cupping her breasts. "Lets have some great sex, like your sister and I did... before I killed her."
Marisa's muffled groan did nothing to dissuade Robert from continuing. He leant his body against her and rubbed his flaccid penis up between the valley of her pouting, slender buttocks.
"Harriet," he said, looking across at her horrified face, "watch me make love to your friend. Unfortunately it won't last long. I've not had sex for a very long time."
Robert's fingers probed between Marisa's thighs and found the entrance to her love tunnel. He licked his fingers and inserted them into her pussy. At the same time he squeezed her left nipple between his thumb and index finger. He delicately pulled the nipple away from her body using a circular motion.
She couldn't help herself and groaned as the intimate sensation worked its sexual magic on her clitoris. During her years on the streets she'd experienced rough sex before.
She continued to moisten. He continued to probe. He used the same technique on her other more sensitive breast.
Suddenly he released her and almost immediately she felt his head between her thighs, his tongue lapped wondrously at her clitoris, his hands clasped her hips.
She was now moaning continuously.
With his forefinger he used her juices to moisten her sensitive anal area. Marisa squirmed uncontrollably as he inserted first one then two fingers into her back passage. Her sexual excitement increased as he slipped the forefinger of his other hand into her licentious pussy. She bucked and rode these two sexual stimuli not caring what came afterwards, just living for the immediacy of the sweet, sensual sensations stirring in her hot, young body.
Robert stopped. He got up from the floor, turned around and, leaning into her, he pushed his hard erection up inside her deliciously tight, slippery pussy. They moaned together.
Harriet watched, as their movements became more animated, each approaching their climax. Marisa used her vaginal muscles to stroke and hold him tightly. Suddenly they groaned in unison as they came together.
Robert relaxed his body over hers for a few moments then withdrew his limp penis. He went into the bathroom, used the toilet, then showered. As he walked back into the bedroom he found that Marisa had managed to get over to the bed and somehow they had removed each other's gag. They were whispering and kissing tenderly.
"You're not conspiring together are you?" He questioned. "It's time for a little redemption Harriet." He quickly retied both gags and pulled up Marisa's pants and jeans. He slung her over his shoulder and put her back into the bathtub, retying her hands to the taps. He turned off the bathroom light and closed the door.
"So, Harriet," Robert said, clambering onto the bed and straddling her naked body once more, "it's time to talk. I want no more procrastination from you. What happened that evening?" He growled, ripping the gag over her head.
She told him.
Harriet embellished Sonia's lovemaking with teasing adjectives knowing it would wound his masculinity, stabbing at his prowess as a great 'Casanova.'
Listening to Harriet's story Robert's anger at how naïve he had been to believe he could get away with murder coupled with Harriet's admitted lesbian relationships had an immediate effect once she had finished. His mind twisted like a bean tendril. It searched for another meaning to what had occurred. He did not want to hear anymore particularly from this woman's mouth. He picked up the pillow next to Harriet's head and pressed it down hard over her face. Harriet's body squirmed beneath him.
There was a brief flash of movement in the corner of his right eye. Something hit his head. Blackness.
Harriet could not breathe. Her mind was spinning away from her.
'This is the end,' she thought. 'Release at last.' Then she felt Robert's body slump across her, then roll onto the floor. The darkness was removed and she gulped in as much air through her nose as she could.
Marisa stood beside the bed, her posture anxious, concerned. She removed Harriet's gag. "Harriet, are you all right?" she asked, her fingers tugging furiously at Harriet's bound hands.
"I'm... fine," gasped Harriet. "Just give me... a few moments... to get my breath."
"What happened to Robert?"
"I eventually managed to get free and used the towel rail from the bathroom to hit him over the head," replied Marisa. "He should have an enormous headache when he wakes up."
"He looks dead to me," said Harriet with one hand free, looking over the edge of the bed. "You'd better check."
Marisa felt for a pulse.
Her eyes widened as she stared back up at Harriet and said, "No. No pulse, Harriet. He's dead," she said.
"Keep calm, Marisa. It was either my death or his. No jury will convict you. You did the only thing you could. You saved my life. I owe you."
"What do we do now Harriet?"
"We stick to a story but one without the sex angle. It will save some of our dignity and, besides it would only complicate matters. Do you agree?"
"Yes, I agree. I don't want the American public finding pleasure in what happened here this evening. I believe justice has been done."
They briefly talked about what they would say, then Harriet phoned the police.
When they arrived they found the two women dressed in casual clothes. Both their stories matched the events of that evening and no charges were brought against Marisa.
As Harriet and Marisa stood in the hotel lobby watching Robert's body being carried down from their hotel room in a black plastic body bag, Harriet's thoughts turned to similar events a few years ago.
Ironically it had been Marisa and not Harriet, who avenged Sonia's death.