"Ooooooggghhhh!"
"Oh! Oh! Oh!!!!"
"Immmmmmccccuujmmmmmiiinnnggg againnnnnn!" Arlene cried aloud, increasing her grip on Ella's passionately moving body over hers.
"Yes… yes… yes!" Ella replied. "Yes!"
Erick looked at Ron, and his brother looked back at him. In their expression was a little of the defeat that they sensed. They had intended another kind of fun. Yet, the scene between the two women had such a powerful erotic value that they could not help but admit, albeit mutely, that it was by far the most profoundly moving thing they had ever witnessed. Their own climaxes were starting as they stood over the nakedly trembling women. Ron started first, soon to be followed by Erick, and shortly two streams of thick white fluid began to spurt forth, covering the milk-white bodies on the bed and slipping down over the silken surfaces to the crumpled satin sheets beneath.
Chapter 7
"Can I help you?" Tim watched as his slender blonde wife struggled with the back zipper of her dress. It was Sunday night and they were going to be flying back to Washington late that night rather than waiting for the morning flight. It had been a very productive weekend, and Tim felt confident that he and Ron had made the right decisions. The nomination was within reach!
Tim moved over to Sylvie and put his arms around her, holding her close to him as she stood looking in the mirror.
"You're a pretty good lay, you know!" he whispered into her ear.
Sylvie blushed, thinking of how Tim had held her so tenderly only a few moments before on their big double bed. The sweetness of their love making only made her sadder when she realized that she still had to meet with that dreadful man, their ex-valet Frank, on Monday in order to retrieve the blackmail tapes. She sighed and let her husband hug her, closing her eyes and wishing that there was nothing to mar her happiness with the young senator.
"Start thinking about what changes you want to make in the White House, honey. It won't be long now!" he told her. Then as an afterthought he added, "And I'll fuck you just as well there as I did just now… maybe better!"
Tim couldn't help laughing as he imagined himself doing the most obscene things with his wife in every room of the White House. And then of course there was Mrs. Grayson, too! He was certain that he would be the best president the country had ever had, and part of it would be due to his erotic stamina. Tim pulled back from Sylvie and zipped her up. Sylvie felt the knife-like turn inside her stomach that happened whenever Tim mentioned the presidency… recently, that is. Whatever happened, she must see to it that Frank had no dealings with that columnist, and that the tapes were destroyed once arid for all!
Down the hall, Arlene dressed hurriedly. She wanted to go down to the living room and get her briefcase that she'd left there after a work session earlier in the day. There were a few details that she wanted to discuss with Ron again before they got to the office the next morning.
The family plane would carry them all back to Washington that night, and Arlene hoped to get some sleep during the trip. She certainly hadn't gotten much over the weekend, what with Friday night extending so far into Saturday and work sessions all day Saturday and Sunday. Now she felt tired and wanted nothing so much as a complete rest… a short trip to the Bahamas, perhaps, something like that. But she knew that there would be no rest for any of them now until Tim Cassidy was in the White House, and everything had to wait for that happy event.
She was just about to go out the door when there was a soft knock. She didn't expect Ron, and he rarely knocked anyway, so Arlene thought that perhaps it was Sylvie coming to speak to her about something. She had been thinking a great deal about her cousin since that night when Erick and Ron had forced the young maid Ella to make love to her. More than anything, the lascivious evening had made her regret that she and her cousin were no longer close. And she knew that she herself was to blame. After all, they had once been like sisters and now they spoke mainly of the weather or some other inconsequential subject.
She opened the door, hoping that it would be Sylvie and that she could get across something of what she felt.
"Ella!" The small Irish maid stood timidly in the doorway.
"May I come in, Miss Pickering?" she asked.
Arlene flushed and motioned Ella in. "Why… why, of course!" she stammered. "And you mustn't ever, ever call me Miss Pickering again. My name is Arlene!"
Ella stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, and then, embarrassed that she had forgotten her manners, Arlene asked her to sit down. Ella sat daintily on a Louis XV chair, wringing her hands in consternation.
"Yes… yes, I will," she mumbled. The vision of their obscene lovemaking hung heavily between them, and both women remembered with precision each tender caress, each warm word between them.
"Can I… is there something I can help you with?" Arlene inquired.
After all, this young maid had helped her more perhaps than she would ever realize. Through her, Arlene had re-established her own right, her own intrinsic value in the face of the two Cassidy brothers. She knew that she still loved Ron, probably always would, but now she also knew that there would always be a struggle between them, and that she must be on guard against any attempt he might make to completely undermine her will.
"There… there's something you must know!" Ella stammered out. She had been thinking about it all weekend, and finally she realized that the only person she could talk to would be Arlene. Surely she would know some way to help Sylvie Cassidy get rid of Frank!
The two women spoke for about 15 minutes, and then Ella left the room-but not without a tender embrace from Arlene before they parted.
Arlene had promised her that no harm would come to Sylvie and that they would stop Frank's vicious attempt at blackmail.
The first person she had to talk to was Ron.
Washington's streets were glistening wet as they sped through the city.
Tim and Sylvie were in their own car and Tim was driving. Arlene could see the green Buick turn the corner in front of their limousine as she and Ron continued going straight to their apartment house.
"She wouldn't tell me a damned thing!" Ron said to Arlene. "Denied the whole thing to the end. The way I see it we've got to get to Frank without Sylvie's help. Obviously she thinks she's the only one who can handle him… and about that I'm certain she's wrong!"
"Yes," said Arlene. "She's shown bad judgment before!"
"You can say that again," Ron replied grimly.
"Oh, it's all my fault… If only I had helped her when she first sent for me… If only I had let her confide in me!"
Arlene knew now that that was the original reason that Sylvie had asked Arlene to come to Grandville. She had needed an ally against the Cassidys, against Tim who paid little attention to her then, and against Ron who thought of her as an object to help Tim get elected Senator, and most of all against Erick who would go to any lengths to make her give in to his sexual demands. Arlene had not helped, and Sylvie had given in to Erick, and that was when the tape had been made.
"All that's water under the bridge," Ron said pragmatically. "What's important is now… and the nomination!"
Arlene realized that he was right, and later that night in Ron's apartment they set about trying to locate Frank. They discovered that he had moved from the original apartment that Tim had personally located for his former valet. They would not be able to trace his steps until the next day, and that meant that their best course would be to follow Sylvie when she went to meet him.
Arlene slept fitfully that night, realizing that the next day would be so important to all of them. Its course would determine whether or not Tim reached his final goal, or had his wife and his brother's name headlined in every paper in the country. His career might never recover should the latter event occur!