"Yes, Mr. Tripplehorn will be staying for a day or two, until we can make other arrangements for him," I replied. "He'll be-"
"Most welcome to stay as long as he likes," a low, suggestive voice cut in.
"And he may sleep anywhere he chooses-as long as I get my turn," came another sultry suggestion from the direction of the hall.
So much for a houseful of church ladies. Billy's jaw dropped, as any man's would, when he beheld the two women apprising him from the parlor's arched entry: the taller, more angular minx fixed her gaze on him and slithered forward, her fitted sheath of burgundy silk whispering all manner of improper innuendo. Her stiletto cigarette holder rode gracefully between her long, pallid fingers, and when she stopped mere inches away from him, Tripplehorn didn't notice the drift of ash that landed on his boot. He was too enthralled, drinking in her straw-blonde hair, pulled back at the nape, and a flawless porcelain face with its exotic lift around the eyes and cheekbones.
"Perfidia, I've brought Billy Tripplehorn here to stay for a-"
"Triple horns? How nice he's got one for each of us," her approaching companion crooned. "My, my but the evening suddenly seems much more exciting than we anticipated! And how nice to see you again, Mr. Moore," she added as an afterthought. "Perfect timing, too. We were just preparing to…have a little bite of something."
Billy now gawked at a more lushly-proportioned woman, whose full breasts met in a teasing crease, lovingly cupped and offered up in a tight-fitting black gown trimmed in lace-an ensemble that elevated her raven hair and a complexion the color of moonglow to an ethereal beauty seldom seen on this earth. Coyly she allowed her scarlet shawl to slither down her bare shoulders, her crimson lips parting in a smile of blatant invitation.
"And this is Pandora," I said, sensing the situation was rapidly passing out of control. The sexual tension in the room could've been cut with the butter knife on Cerise's tray-or with the blade young Tripplehorn now brandished inside his pants.
"And-and what is it you ladies do here?" he stammered. "I had always assumed-that is, most folks think-the Sisters of Samaria operate the orphanage."
"And indeed we do, as our contribution to society and the unfortunate children who need our help," Perfidia replied. She drew deeply from her cigarette holder, resembling an exotic dragon when she exhaled its cloying, sweet smoke through her nose. "As another part of our mission, however, we provide training for those who've strayed down the wrong path-lessons of service and submission to a higher cause. Jeremy and Justin are prime examples of what can be accomplished through discipline."
"In other words," Pandora continued, stepping forward to get a profile view of Billy's backside-and his erection, "we save bad boys."
"Oh, my God! Save that one for me!" came a cry from the stairway.
And as though Billy didn't already have enough distractions, the trip-trapping of dainty heels echoed in the hall and then the intoxicating essence of silken sexual insanity preceded her into the room: she was younger than the other two, with her henna hair wound into a loose knot at her crown and a large red rose fastened at her ear. With each step, her pert breasts shimmied beneath a revealing, sequined pink gown held up by feathered straps that might slip down at any moment. All girlish charm and knowing coquetry, this one was, her blue eyes a-sparkle in a face as radiant as a debutante's.
"And this is Pink," I breathed, knowing neither Billy nor I had a chance of pursuing any further strategies concerning Lucy Legg-if he even recalled who she was by now.
"That would be Miss Pink to you," she twittered, sticking out her hand to be kissed. Thank God she'd already fed: her rosy glow told me she would be merely circling and sniffing at our boy tonight, rather than pouncing outright in that manners-be-damned way she had. "I'm a woman of…many appetites, my sweet, and I can see you're a man who'd enjoy satisfying my…deepest needs. We Sisters of Samaria have devoted our very lives to providing food for the hungry, and clothes for the naked-"
"Not that you usually wear any!" Perfidia hissed.
"Well!" I interrupted with forced cheerfulness, "if Mr. Tripplehorn's to have a fresh bed tonight, I'd best let Andrea know. I'll have her show you to your room immediately."
Not that my implied warning would have any effect: the Three P's-Perfidia, Pandora and Pink, that is-were slowly circling my young guest as though it took all their effort not to lick their lips with obvious intent. I gave Billy a businesslike nod such as Alex Moore would, and then strode out of the parlor with its rising tides and temperatures to gather my thoughts; to make myself as alluring a female as I could before those three sultry vultures could snatch him away from me.
Dammit, all I'd ever wanted was a man of my own. Someone to love-or even a man who'd make me a slave to his desires-without those three bitches horning in on him! I surely deserved that, after all I'd done for these so-called Samaritans!
Yet as I entered my upstairs room and threw open my armoire, I had the sad, sinking suspicion I'd made a major mistake bringing Billy here. He didn't stand a chance against those ladies.
And neither did I.
Chapter 2: A Three-Way Tie
Off came my boots and the brown herringbone suit; off came the wig of male waves that lay tidier than Billy Tripplehorn's outrageous locks. Quickly I removed the theatrical makeup that darkened my jaw line and gave my slender face a more masculine aura-a look that had allowed me to practice law as Alex Moore for nearly ten years now, in the unsuspecting town of Redemption. When I stood naked at last, I took a long, assessing look in the cheval mirror beside my armoire.
A sigh of utter dejection escaped me. When I thought of Pandora's ample breasts and creamy skin, and that provocative way she had of displaying all her assets, I fell miserably short. The breasts I cupped filled my palms-but my hands were smaller than a man's, after all. Would Billy find me lacking? Less attractive than those three "church ladies" circling him-or less enticing than Lucy Legg?
Best not to ask such questions, I reminded myself. My nipples pebbled beneath my palms as I recalled the sight of those two in the alley, rutting like dogs in heat. God, the nerve of them-the audacity of Lucy, to think she'd entrap Billy Tripplehorn and that he'd let her! But then, stranger things had happened in the heat of passion, and Billy himself admitted to thinking with his dick. Such things went on all the time in that repressive atmosphere of Redemption-which explained the need for the Sisters' orphanage. I was just too sheltered and shy to pursue such illicit passions myself.
Letting my hands flow farther down, I followed the line of my sides-the slightly curved indentation of my waist before my hips flared with the merest hint of femininity. Why hadn't God created me male, to save me years of anguish? Even at thirty-five-especially now, as I watched the three Sisters in action-I was so very aware that I lacked Pandora's lush curves and Perfidia's sleek, sophisticated carriage and Miss Pink's utterly unstudied way of playing the pretty little girl in grownup clothing.
My fingers tangled in the fine down between my thighs, and a trickle ran down my leg. I was still far too excited about bringing Billy off, and could still envision him pumping his cum over the front of the buggy: the repeated streams of shiny jism, shooting from a cock that filled my fist as I pumped it for him. Not to mention the clenching of my cunt muscles, until I climaxed against the seat and nearly gave myself away. He thought Alex Moore was a nancy-boy, and that was fine: he would keep his distance when we were together in public.
But now Andrea-the other half of the Alexandrea I'd been born-had to shine in a way that made Billy Tripplehorn stand up and take notice before her older, more practiced, more…lethal competition beat her to the punch. Our guest had whetted their appetites even before he arrived, for they had their ways of knowing who approached the mansion, just as they knew I intended Billy for myself. All the more reason to rub my little nose in their superior powers and experience, for they could be a cold, calculating trio who thrived on the suffering of others.