She realized belatedly that Vanessa was untying the waist cord. The sheet collapsed to the floor, leaving only the skimpy, improvised miniskirt to hide Helen's nakedness. She stared at herself, hypnotized by the sight of her elongated navel. I didn't know my navel would show! It didn't in the bedroom! And this thing's so terribly short! I know they can see hair! Art! Art, what are you waiting for!
Helen tugged at the ankle ropes, suddenly remembering she'd forgotten to remove her high-heeled sandals. But there was no slack in the loop and no way to relieve the pressure that held the bottom of the skirt so high. "Vanessa!" Helen whispered. "Van, we can't go any further!"
Vanessa leaned close. "Honey! We can't stop now! Look how shocked Art is already. Only he still doesn't believe we'll go all the way. That's what'll clinch it!"
"No! No, Van! I just can't!"
"Sure you can, hon. You're splendid! Anyhow, I won't let you go it by yourself. I'll take mine off, too. Think how that'll hit them!" Vanessa stepped towards the men. "Come now, good sirs! How stubborn are you going to be? Have you ever gazed at greater beauty? Look again at these marvelous globes! Imagine one of these saucy nipples tickling the arch of your throat!" She cupped her palm under one of Helen's boobs, then tenderly rolled the nipple between her fingertips.
A stab of delight shook Helen and she drew a deep, audible breath.
"Just meditate on the daintiness of this dear waist!" Vanessa continued. "Think of it! You could easily encircle it with your two hands! And feast your souls on this delicate navel. How could it be more inviting to a gentleman's tongue? The thighs – the hips – please, gentlemen!" She paused, panting. "What! Still skeptical? Oh, God! What cynics! You demand the last bit, don't you!"
"No no no…" Helen moaned softly when Vanessa reached for the pin in the waistband of the tiny skirt. "Nooo… Oh, Van!" The flesh at her waist writhed at the pressure of Vanessa's fingers, and abruptly the skirt loosened. "NO!" Helen cried out sharply. She felt the soft cloth being dragged across her belly and looked down with a sense of disbelief.
Van held the material as if it were a matador's cape, twitching it away from Helen's body but using it to screen her pussy from view. While Helen watched, the quick hands swished the skirt aside and then back in place, offering the men a tantalizing glimpse of the red-haired snatch. Helen pressed her ass against the bars and whimpered. She saw her husband start from his chair.
Now! she thought with a surge of relief. Now he's sure! He'll make us stop!
But Art merely came closer, and Barry joined him. Both of them licked their lips.
Vanessa sighed and shook her head. "You win," she said. She whipped the skirt away and dropped it to the floor.
Helen sagged in her bonds, her flesh crawling and heat welling in her cunt. Art and Barry devoured her with their stares, and she imagined she could feel a physical impact wherever their glances fell. Like when Tony looked at me this way! she thought wildly, reminding herself this was the first time any man but an obstetrician had looked at her naked pussy since that day. It can't be! I'm not really here! Not naked and spread-eagled with men gawking at me! Oh, Mother in Heaven, they're raping me with their eyes! And, Helen! You bitch! You're an excited! Her cunt throbbed and she tingled. "Van! Oh, please, Van!" She felt hysteria edging into her.
Vanessa whispered, "It's working, hon! It's sinking in! Art's beginning to realize what we've done!"
Helen shook her head, rolling it against one of the bars. "I can't stand it any longer! Oh, Van, I can't!"
"Just a little more, honey! Let me get you another drink real quick."
"I'm already dizzy! If I drink another one, I won't know what I'm doing!"
But Vanessa ran to the bar and poured vodka into a glass, bringing it to Helen without pausing to cut it with orange juice. Helen gauged the tumblerful of clear liquid with her eye and a reckless impulse jarred her.
"Quick!" she panted. "Quick! I need it!"
Vanessa tilted the glass at Helen's lips, and Helen gulped. She gasped and coughed, then captured the rim with her lips and drank again. "I'll be drunk now!" she exclaimed. "Oh, God, how drunk I'll be!"
She noticed that Barry and her husband were drawing nearer. The vodka burned in her stomach, and she imagined it was already killing her inhibitions. "Come on," she muttered thickly. "Come on, you lecherous bastards. Get a good look."
Art stared into her eyes. He grinned uncertainly and touched her waist. She flinched. Needles of excitement pricked her. She pouted with a longing like the one she'd felt that day years before. I'm wet! she thought. My pussy's all wet! Christ, it's hot in here!
Art stooped and kissed the bulge of her tit. She twisted her shoulders against the bars and watched her boobs swing. Art's lips parted and closed on her nipple.
I can't stop him! she told herself wildly. Omigod! Omigod! I never felt anything like that! She cried out, aloud. "Art! Oh, honey! Oooh!"
He sucked tenderly. Currents of pleasure radiated from the captured tit, spreading through the tissues beneath it and into her other boob. She felt her hips writhe. In spite of the deep sense of shame that hovered in the background, she stared at Art's face. His expression made her catch her breath; he looked ecstatically contented, his weathered cheek caving in rhythmically with his sucking and his jaw moving gently as he chewed the flesh of her tit. With obvious effort, he drew back and glanced at Barry.
"Man, this has got to be tasted to be believed! You've got to try a mouthful!"
"No! NO!" Helen exclaimed in a terrified whisper. The very thought of Barry touching her aroused a raging fire of excitement in her belly. "Oh, no!"
Without waiting, Art sucked her tit into his mouth again and laid his hand on her belly. Barry edged closer and caught her other tit in his mouth.
"Mmm!" exclaimed Vanessa's husband. His crooked nose wrinkled and she felt his hand on the inner fullness of her thigh.
"Ohhh! Mmmm…" she moaned, feeling the last of her self-control evaporating. It was too late to resist the powerful stirrings in her belly, she knew. She had no way to slow her rising lust or still her body's squirmings. She jerked the loops on her wrists, using the harsh bite to heighten her awareness of her position. Art stroked her belly with circular movements of his hand and Barry caressed her inner thigh. She ground her ass on the bars.
"Ahahah! Dear God, forgive me!" she whispered in an agony of desire.
She saw Vanessa remove her costume and pull the hairpins out of her piled coiffure. Vanessa shook her head, loosening her platinum-blonde hair and spreading it over her shoulders. Her knockers jiggled with the motion and her hips twisted. She caressed her own boobs, grinning at Helen and running her hands slowly over her torso to bury her fingers in the thick, mouse-brown thatch of her cunt hair.
She's the sexy one! Helen admitted to herself. Her boobies are twice the size of mine! And she's got hips for riding a man! For Heaven's sake, Helen! Get hold of yourself, you crude slut! But she knew the vodka had combined with her helpless nakedness to rob her of the will to object to her own reactions. Her ass was bumping the grating with a rhythmic monotony and her belly was jerking. Too many! she thought. Two's too many! Her boobs throbbed and she gave up trying to cope with the varied sensations that assailed her. If they'd only do the same thing at the same time! She was squirming under the thrill of Art's tongue as it caressed the tip of one nipple and twitching to the electric needles of pleasure Barry's teeth created as he scraped them over the slopes of the other.
Barry, she thought. Barry… BARRY! What's he doing with his hand? It's not moving any more! His hand rested at the top of her thigh, nestled against the lips of her pussy, its heat compounding her own. Her hips surged and she pressed her pussy onto the hard edge of his knuckle before she knew what she was doing. His thumb stirred and slipped into her slit, gliding frictionlessly on her wetness.