Chapter 1

Kristie.

The lobby was empty, so was the reception area. Her steel pointed heels clicked their rhythm on the shining floor. When she stopped, her ears picked up the distant sigh of air conditioning. It was cool in here, almost chilly after the humid heat outside. The artificial breeze made her black hair flow. Her flimsy summer dress clung to her skin. It enhanced the flowing curves of her body in motion. Little nubs rose from the center of her swaying breasts. They responded to the change in temperature, as did the goose bumps on her naked arms.

The young woman stopped at the centre of the lobby. She was unsure what to do as nobody seemed present. Then distant, repetitive sounds reached her ears. She turned her attention to the tall glass doors that gave out on an adjacent hall to the right. They were closed, but through them she saw something move.

As she reached the doors, they slid open with an automatic sigh. They revealed a large room with a high ceiling. It was filled with innumerable machines. Rows and rows of them stood on an immaculate shining floor. They were reflected in high mirrors which ran the total length of the walls. The far side was all milky glass window.

She stepped forward, amazed at the infinite number of replica's of herself in the yellow and red flowered cotton dress. Un vrai palais de crystal, her mind whispered. Narcissus' paradise. And she slowly moved into the direction of the sounds. They were much louder now, after the doors opened. Creaking sounds they were, punctured with sighs like heavy breathing. And before she really saw the source, she knew they were the product of human exertion.

The girl seemed to not have noticed her visitor. She sat on a bicycle-like machine. She was silhouetted against the white, milky windows. She worked out hard in a lycra outfit. It left her arms, shoulders and belly free. Her thighs were tightly wrapped in the same material. The bare calves of her long, toned legs showed the play of her muscles.

Her skin was deeply tanned. It shone with perspiration. The sky blue lycra showed dark spots. They grew while she looked. Ah, the girl was strong and dedicated. She panted and even now accellerated, although her legs already seemed a blur of motion. A pretty blonde pony tail danced on her head. It followed the frantic rhythm of her body.

And still the girl seemed not aware that she had a visitor. An attentive visitor too. She watched her every move, every sensuous roll of muscle. She saw the trembling of her breasts, the way her tight, well-trained little ass slid and moved on the narrow saddle.

The visitor held her breath so long that her ears started to buzz.

Ever so quiet she tiptoed forward until she was behind the exercising girl. And ever so slowly she reached out a pale hand to touch the shining lycra on her rolling hip. Ah, the heat... the deep glow radiated into her palm. She touched and cupped first the right cheek, then the left. A bolt of sweet electricity ran through her arms. It sank straight through her body and in to the centre of her lust.

"I stood shivering. My eyes were closed for what felt like minutes. Then I looked straight into the wide gaze of the girl. She looked at me from inside the mirror. It was the sweetest face I had ever seen. Open, vulnerable. Greenish hazel flashed from under lovely arches of wonderment. She had sun-flushed skin. She had a pretty small freckled nose and a generous mouth. It hung half open with exhaustion. And it trembled."

The visitor held her breath. Her hands started caressing the girl's behind. Her emerald eyes never flinched. They bored into the other's eyes, keeping them captive. A shiver ran through the soaked lycra under her touch. She knew she held the girl in thrall. Slowly, softly she allowed a smile to curl her lips. And she felt her heart flutter when a wide smile rose in response on the blonde's face. It was a smile like the morning sun rising.

With a long, long sigh the woman's captured breath escaped. She whispered: "Hi, sweet girl... I am Angique. What is your name?"

The girl flashed her lashes twice. She swallowed a lump in her throat. "Kristie", she croaked. Her voice was still hoarse from exhaustion. It trembled with tenseness. She had risen on her saddle. The mirror showed her panting chest. It reflected her sweat soaked belly and strong athlete's thighs.

The woman who called herself Angique started roaming the blonde's hips and thighs with pale, red nailed fingers. She paused on each new found spot, then traveled on.

"You look marvellous, Kristie", she said. "You have a great body."

And, oh God, was it possible? Could things be more perfect? A slow blush rose from the girl's chest. It climbed her throat and found her adorable face.

Maybe it was the blush. Maybe it was something in the coy fluttering of her eyelashes as she watched the woman Angique from under her brows. The caressing hands now rose to Kristie's tightly bound breasts. They cupped them and pressed them against her rib cage. The woman stood closer now. She pushed her own breasts into the blonde's back. She felt the sweat soak slowly into the cotton of her dress. All the while her steady emerald eyes watched over the girl's shoulder. She grasped her gaze in the mirror and held it. She did not allow her to escape even for a second.

Her moist lips were close to the girl's ear. She whispered something inaudible. The blush deepened. Almost unnoticed the girl Kristie nodded. The red nails of the right hand travelled down her belly. The girl spread her thighs only inches. But she also pushed herself forward. She gave the searching hand access to her crotch.

At the same time she turned her face. She closed her eyes and opened her weak mouth slightly. The woman Angique smiled. Then she opened her own mouth. She pressed her soft lips on the blonde's. A fat pink, wriggling tongue appeared and dashed between white teeth. It roamed wildly until it met the girl's tongue. It started a hungry dance half in and out. It darted, snaked, strangled. They filled the quiet hall with wet noises and stifled moans.

The other hand now found a moist, warm crotch. It rubbed slowly up and down, forcing the thighs ever wider. Kristie slumped back against the woman. She pushed her cunt into the invading hand. Her own hand covered it. She sped up the motion. Her other hand slid into the black shining hair of the woman. It intensified the long, deep kiss. Then Kristie moaned. It was a sobbing sweet sound. It rose with passion, then sank into a throaty animal's purr.

Angique let go of her mouth. She allowed the girl to gasp. Then she slid her fingers from under the girl's hand. She watched her start rubbing herself. She took the flushed face in both hands and pushed her head against Kristie's. Her fierce emerald eyes were only an inch away from the misted gaze. She kept silent for quite a while. The only sounds were the fast breathing of the girl and the steady rubbings against the slippery lycra.

At last a deep, misty voice broke the tension. It was sweet but strong like silk clad steel.

"Get naked for me, little thing."

The rubbing hand stopped at once. So did the girl's breath. The eyes flew open in a terrified flash.

"Here?", she asked. It sounded as if the word had to pass through a passage that was far too narrow.

Angique just kept staring in silence.

As if in a dream the blonde's hands rose to the hem of her outfit. She pushed the tight elastic fabric over a well filled sports bra. Then she slipped it over her head and let it drop to the floor. The woman with the black shiny hair had taken two steps back. She watched the blonde in the mirror. She smiled as Kristie again met her eyes. Now it was with shy wonder. Angique nodded. The blonde's hands slid behind her back to undo the clip that held her bra together. Almost with a pop the full firm flesh spilled from its imprisonnement. Rich, gold tanned tits swung free in front of her.

Involuntarily Angique stretched out a pale hand to touch them, but she stopped midway. She bit on her lip. She again stood back to watch. Her eyes returned to the girl's nervously wandering gaze. She smiled and nodded encouragement. Kristie sighed. She slid her thumbs under the waistband of the tight pants, starting to slip them off. She stood on the pedals of the machine as she peeled the fabric down her thighs and calves. It got stuck in sweaty wrinkles. She sat down again. She bent forward and moved the lycra over her cute pink sneakers. First she freed the left, then the right.

The material whispered to the floor like a sky blue butterfly.

Kristie sat up, now only clad in a lacy pink thong. It hugged her pouting cunt lips tightly. But it disappeared between her ass cheeks only to return at her waistband. The cheeks were wonderfully tight and smooth. They had the perfect shape of an inverted heart, flaring out from a narrow waist.

Kristie sat for a minute. She restlessly moved on the saddle. The front of her thong was in full sight in the mirror. Angique saw with a smile that the pink was decidedly darker where the entrance to her little garden lay.

So shy, she thought, yet so eager. So sweet to watch her dilemma.

To help her decide, Angique stepped into full sight of the mirror. She started to undo the buttons of her own summer's dress. She began right between her breasts. Then she moved slowly down to the hem. But she did not bend down to reach them. She pulled the cotton fabric up to bring the closed buttons to her fingers. That way the mirror slowly disclosed more and more of her legs and thighs for the naked girl to watch. Inch after careful inch the woman's white alabaster body came into sight. The shadows kept their secret until the third button. But when the nimble fingers undid the fourth, the hem rose above a spotlessly shaven pussy. It showed that she wore no panties at all. When the last button was opened it became clear that she wore no bra either.

The yellow and red cotton opened like a flower. It showed a tall, slender, almost translucently pale woman. Her legs were too long for her frame. Otherwise she was very well proportioned. Her young tits stood firm, with amazingly dark nipples. The sheer whiteness of her skin gave her the cool appearance of a marble statue. The tender, porcelaine lucidity made her almost float like a cloud. The contrast of her black hair, thick eyebrows and dark set eyes gave her the drama of old black and white photographs and silent movies.

Angique turned her head towards the girl on the bike. She saw that Kristie's hand had returned to her lace clad pussy. She rubbed it as if in a trance. Angique walked to her. Her heels gave her tits a lovely rythm. Then she again pulled the girl's face towards her. She kissed her in the same hungry, passionate way as before. The glowing body melted against her.

"Be naked with me, darling", she breathed. "Don't make me beg."

Kristie's eyes widened. Over her arched brows danced tiny, spidery wrinkles. All movement froze in soundless hesitation. Then Angique's gaze darkened to a deeper jungle green. Her mouth closed till it was a thin line. All memories of her sweet smile had vanished.

The blonde girl felt a shiver ride the length of her spine. It was like a frozen insect running from the curve of her neck down to the very end of her backbone. She felt confused, lost. Her seeping pussy still glowed. But in her heart an icy breath seeped in.

She moved nervously on the tiny saddle. She knew something had gone wrong. And she knew the wrongness was of her doing, her fault. She had let this amazing woman down. She, the clumsy, stupid little girl, had brought this woman of the world almost to a point where she had to beg for a favour. Insignificant Kristie made her beg for a favour. My God, Kristie, she thought, what are you doing? Or worse: what have you done?

She crinched under the stern green gaze. She tried to find words. She tried to force her trembling lips to form a sentence that would explain. Fresh sweat formed on her brow. Her mouth didn't know how to shape the words.

But her hands knew. Her busy, trembling fingers knew. Her thumbs hooked into the hem of her thong. They pulled it down her thighs as she rose from the saddle. Her eyes kept sinking into the green bottomless pools. Her brain kept racing in ever smaller circles. But her body knew. Her body obeyed.

The thong was now around her knees. She pulled it free by slipping her left pink sneaker through it. She left it to dangle on the other foot. Her eyes closed. She sank back on the slippery saddle. She felt her swollen lips suck in the soft suede leather as she sat down.

The pressure of the saddle made her curly haired mound rise. It displayed a sweet little hill of golden circlets sprayed with starry drops of sweat.

Angique smiled.

A deep warmth flooded her eyes. It sent rays of sympathy to the trembling girl. And Kristie felt the glow invade her when she opened her eyes cautiously. With it an incredible sense of relief flushed her body. All the awful frost had gone. All was right again. She melted completely. A sigh escaped her chest.

A white hand cupped her mound. Red tipped fingers dug into the pretty trimmed bush. Again Angique stood closer. She hugged the blonde girl. She made her slump against her. Soft pillowy lips touched Kristie's ear. They sucked in her lobe. Two fingers slid down on each side of her tingling cunt lips, making them pout. And she whispered.

"Will you be mine, little girl?"

A sob rose in Kristie's throat. God, what was happening to her? Who was this woman? She did not know her, did she? They'd never met before, had they? Really? Why then did she ache with the need to submit? Why did she want to melt until all of her self drowned in these emerald pools of deep, deep destiny?

Her face blushed crimson. She nodded, then nodded again.

"Tell me, honey, say it out loud", the dark haired woman insisted. Her slender fingers now invaded the wet, tight slit. They searched for the pearl on top.

Kristie swallowed. Her head seemed to float in clouds of fuzzy heat. She felt dizzy. The voice she heard seemed somebody else's. But oh yes, it was her own.

"Please," the voice said, "Please let me be yours..." She pushed her hips up hard to meet the probing fingers.

Quebec.

The people looked up from their food. A hush seemed to descend. It always did, she knew. It happened whenever she walked into a restaurant. The hush seemed to spread away from her in slow, widening circles.

Of course this time it wasn't only her entrance that made people stop and stare. Her exuberant outfit took no doubt a share in the effect. But it was also caused by her companions. And their theatrical entrée.

Angique was in Quebec for a show. And so were Esther and Tasha, her two spectacular African girl friends. They were world famous fashion models of Massai descent. Both were way over six feet in height, slim and willowy like ebony reeds. One was wrapped in tight salmon latex. It hugged her purplish black skin like paint. Although it covered almost all of her body, she might just as well have been naked. The other girl wore blood red silk. It was tightly wound around her waist and hips. It flared out at her shoulders, like a flower. The petals cupped a wide cleavage of oiled ebony. They hardly covered the swellings of her tits.

Angique herself was dressed in simple, seagreen leather. It was a sweet nothing dress that only reached halfway down her pale thighs. And it just about covered her white chest. She was like a ghost. Her emerald eyes were set in kohl, her mouth bloomed in deep dark purple. Short shining black hair framed her intense stare. She was tall in her own right (and heels). But she looked almost petite between her two companions.

Then, as if someone snapped a finger, the enchantment was lifted. The usual bustle returned. The woman who took care of the reservations approached. She hugged a set of menues against her starched blouse. A sweet smile lifted years from her face. It turned her into a stylish, elegant brunette. Angique gave her name and they were led to a round table. It was set back in a candle lit niche, slightly elevated over the rest of the room. A young waiter hurried to help them sit. He was not at all able to keep his hungry eyes off their bodies. He slid Tasha's chair under her, and felt giddy as her red silk decolleté opened right before him. It showed one dark purple nipple. A quite erect one too. He gulped. His face turned red when all three girls giggled.

Tasha winked at him. She pouted her full moist lips in a mock kiss. With a crooked, red nailed finger she begged him closer. She took his lapel to pull him even nearer to her whispering mouth. Flames flared out of his collar. He drowned into the perfumed presence of the woman. He was hardly able to concentrate on her question.

Once freed, he turned and walked off. He felt an embarrassing tightness in his trousers. The silver laughter at his back convinced him that the effect must have been quite visual.

The three girls seemed to have cause for celebration. The pink champagne they had ordered was sparkling in tall, elegant glasses. They toasted. They talked loudly and seemed in the highest of spirits. Until the waitress came.

She wasn't the Hollywood approved beauty. Still she would stand out in a crowd, given the right styling. She might not stop a conversation or make heads turn. But whoever would take the time to really look past her modest bearing, would discover a deeper layer. She was like smouldering coal under gray ashes.