Part 2 of 2
The sprightly girl with the bouncy ponytail looked around nervously before slipping into the service entrance to scurry, two steps at a time, up the metal stairs to the second floor. By using the back stairs, Petra hoped to avoid any other staff members who might wonder what she was doing there — in uniform, while clearly off duty. That she wear her work clothes was something he insisted on: her waitresses’ uniform, the light-weight linen dress in Dreamchaser’s colors — royal blue, trimmed with pink. He had told her exactly what she was to wear: the uniform dress, but no stockings or pantyhose — he made that clear. Just her uniform, and a pair of open, high heeled sandals.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror as she emerged on the second floor: a sprightly girl with straight, caramel-colored hair drawn smoothly back to fall in that perky pony tail of hers. Her heart was racing as she paused, took a deep breath, fluffed up her bangs, made one final check of her uniform. Her nervous hands checked the row of small plastic buttons down the front, the flat, open collar. They passed lightly down her modest bosom, smoothening the tapering fit at her trim waist before straightening the loose skirt that fell down bare legs.
Gathering up her courage, she knocked softly at the door of room 210. The door opened a crack; Nick was looking out at her. He smiled that smug, self-pleased grin of his. The opening door revealed him to be barefoot, and wearing nothing but a pair of pants, the fine silky trousers from one of his dark suits. The nervous girl tried not to stare as her eyes quickly took in his handsome physique, the bulky shoulders, thick chest and tight-muscled belly. The guy obviously kept himself in shape! The heavy chain he wore around his neck was embedded in curly black fleece that thickened at the center of his chest and dribbled straight down his front in a wispy trail pointing towards his navel, and beyond. The belted pants rode low on his hips.
Under the full-length windows with their superb ocean view, she saw Margo squatted on a footstool placed before a large red chair. The blonde was still wearing the sundress she had on at breakfast, and she sat huddled over, arms wrapped around her steepled knees, white pumps set side by side on the thick carpet, skirt draped down over her white-stockinged, tightly closed legs. The pale face she turned towards their guest was tense, the big blue eyes anxious with a brittle smile.
‘Like a doe caught in the headlights,’ Petra thought, and she wavered in the doorway. bahis firmaları But Nick caught her hesitancy, and took the girl by the elbow and swept her along, ushering her into the room. Nick led a suddenly reluctant Petra over to the red chair; Margo stood up to move out of the way.
The two women stood eyeing one another like two wary wrestlers, Margo the taller of the two, the one with the decidedly more mature and feminine figure was having her usual poise tested as she struggled with an acute sense of embarrassment, nervously biting her lower lip. Petra, smaller, more slightly built: a party girl, who wasn’t at all sure just what she had gotten herself into, still thought of heading for the door. Both women were aware of the simmering sexuality, the presence of the bare-chested man, the undercurrent of lesbianism, the awkwardness of the situation they found themselves in, the scary uncertainty of it all. Margo welcomed the girl like a gracious hostess greeting a guest at a cocktail party, although her voice was strained, and she had a hard time meeting Petra’s eyes. The two women actually shook hands; Petra being struck by the absurdity of the situation! The tension in the room was so strong you could cut it with a knife. But if the women were clearly flustered and uncomfortable, Nick was his usual smooth self: a self-assured, cocky male; sly, reckless and ready for some fun.
Petra took the big armchair, while the blonde was sent off to get them drinks, with a playful slap on the skirted rearend.
*** *** ***
Once drinks had been served, the blonde stationed herself before Petra’s chair to wait docilely with hands at her sides, downcast eyes studying the pointed tips of her white pumps. Nick sitting across the room, a gin and tonic by his side, seemed totally unconcerned about the tension between the women. Petra watched him take out a cigar and take his time lighting it, studying the glowing tip, before settling back into the cradling curve of his easy chair.
“Come on girls, time we got started. Pet, you’re first. Take your shoes off. No wait!” he hastily added. “On second thought: make the slut do it for you. Tell her!”
“Tell her to take your shoes off. Go on.” he said, with a mildly impatient wave of his cigar.
“I…I couldn’t. I don’t think I should…”
“Sure you can! You don’t get do you? Go on, just tell her to take your shoes off for you,” he said with elaborate slowness, as if explaining things to a slow-witted child. “I told you before: the slut’ll do whatever you tell her to. Now, tell her!”
Petra kaçak iddaa turned to the attractive blonde in the creamy sundress, took a deep breath, and tried the mandated words.
“Take off my shoes.” The words addressed to the lowered blond head, came out in a barely-audible, hushed whisper.
Petra held her breath and waited, every fiber keyed up with burgeoning anticipation. She saw the older woman swallow her own rise of excitement, reach down to gather up two handfuls of skirt and raise the hem out of the way so that once down on her knees, she was kneeling directly on the carpeted floor before the young waitress.
Margo bent over to unbuckle the strap of the left sandal, lifted the foot, removed the delicate sandal with its high heel — a thick wedge of cork. She then proceeded to remove its mate.
“Yeah, that’s good. Now, tell her to kiss your feet.”
“Oh! No, I couldn’t do that!”
“Go on. Give her your foot. Make her kiss it. She’ll do it, I tell you. She really digs it, but the thing is you have to make her do it. Like I told you, she’s kinda shy.” He laughed at this little joke of his.
Petra looked down on the bowed blond head of the woman who knelt as her feet. Suddenly, a thrill of wild elation shot through her, hard on its heels — a tremendous rush of power shook her, leaving the girl breathless, tingling with excitement.
Boldly she thrust a foot at the face of the submissive blonde.
“Kiss it!” she hissed, in a clear voice, that was suddenly confident and a harder edge than she intended.
Margo sat back on her heels as she took the proffered foot in both hands. Bending down over it, she obediently brought her lips to kiss the top of the foot and then pay homage to young Petra’s toes. The foot being offered to her was narrow and delicate; long toes curled in the sheerest of pleasure at the first touch of that wet, darting tongue.
Petra sighed in bliss when she felt warm, soft lips engulf her big toe and begin to gently suck. She was elated to look down on this beautiful older woman whose head was bobbing gently as her lips and tongue paid their slavishly tribute to the girl’s stiffened toes. Petra squirmed back in her seat, her hips arching up in instinctive response to the creamy rise of pleasure. The blonde head moved with mechanical persistence, mindlessly making its way from one toe to the next, till the thrills became unbearable.
“Nooooo,” the quivering girl moaned, gently pushing the head away, forcing her groveling slave to give up the extended foot.
Margo shifted back to kaçak bahis settle onto her tucked-in heels, there to kneel with head hung low, huddled shoulders heaving; the girl’s bare foot cradled in the lap of her thin dress. She was flushed; obviously aroused.
After a moment she picked up Petra’s foot in both hands and brought it to her bosom. Placing the sole overtop of her left breast, she leaned forward, pressing her breast against the bottom of the girl’s foot. Petra smiled, inanely pleased. She pressed her pointed toes back into the pillow of the other woman’s covered breast. Wiggling toes dug into the pliant, yielding tittie-flesh, playing with the wobbly mound. Then, with her sole placed squarely over the gently mounded tit she pressed …hard, squashing the warm softness she found there under the smooth thin cloth, sending the kneeling woman rocking back on her heels. Margo arched back and moaned, a low shivering moan. Petra grinned and withdrew her foot.
Nick had largely been forgotten by the two women, engrossed as they were in the single-minded pursuit of pleasure. When Petra remembered that he was watching, she looked up to find him sitting there with his fly open and his solid prick sticking out in an obscene erection! One hand was on his hardened cock. He held his stiffened manhood loosely in curled fingers, and his hand was pumping slowly, languidly as he kept his eyes on the girlie action. He just kept fingering his exposed penis when his eyes met Petra’s, and he gave the girl a big, shit-eatin’ grin.
“See Baby, that was nice wasn’t it? I could tell you really dug it. Yeah, you could really get off on having another chick to order around, making her do you wherever you want. Want some more? Why don’t you get her to strip for you?”
Petra, still recovering from the repeated thrills the foot worshiping had subjected her to, basked in a warm afterglow and felt a surprising surge of confidence. Her initial hesitancy had melted away; she felt bolder, stronger, more ready to take command. She looked down at the kneeling blonde.
“Take your clothes off,” she said. A simple declarative sentence.
“No, not like that!” His impatience was growing. “Say it like you mean it! Go on, order her around. Make the bitch strip.”
Petra took a deep breath and tried again, this time more forcefully: “Get up! Take your clothes off…all of them! Now!”
She watched in awe as her elegant slave drew herself up, and rose obediently to her feet, to stand before her young mistress.
“Hurry up, Slut! Strip! I want you bare-assed naked. Now!”
“Yeah, Baby!” Nick crowed, overjoyed.
Petra looked at the man with the naked cock, who flashed her that evil grin of his, and then gave her a huge, conspiratorial wink.
End of Part 2