Chapter 2

When Joan arrived at Amanda Westmore's house it was nearly dark. A thin grey light hung in the air as she stepped from her Sprite. The car gleamed whitely from a new waxing.

Already bored after only two days of the summer, Joan had spent the early morning hours lavishly grooming her car. A graduation present from her parents for which she vowed to be responsible, her car was her pride and the job Amanda promised meant far more than the older woman knew.

She sounded the door chimes with a press on an ivory button and heard the bells peel throughout the house.

Amanda's house was a flat-roofed, almost winged structure that sat in the gully between two gentle slopes on the edge of a cliff. Poised as if for flight, from a distance it resembled a redwood seagull caught in a gossamer of fronds.

Joan heard the soft pad of Amanda's cloth-slippered feet on the carpet within, then an amber light snapped on in the alcove before the door. Moments later Amanda opened the oaken door to her cavelike house and Joan went in.

"I'm so glad you could come, dear," Amanda purred as Joan stood before her.

"My, my, my, said the spider to the fly," Joan answered in a teasing sing-song voice.

Amanda had changed jumpsuits. She now wore a gold lame sequined suit of the same elastic style as she had been wearing before. About her neck she wore a mink collar with a dangling golden ring attached to the fur covered leather band. Her shoulders were bare except for the brief straps haltering up her breasts, and her auburn hair cascaded about them in long silky curls. She was a voluptuous and feline creature in the traditional sense of sexy.

Joan on the other hand had a completely opposite effect on the observer. She was tanned like an athlete and wore brief white tennis shorts beneath a cool organdy paisley print blouse. The swirls in it were like ivory horns on a pale purple background and the see-through material gave a strawberry sundae effect to her eager young breasts. She wore her hair in a pixie cut while light blue eyes sparkled innocently in a face of classic Alpine beauty.

Amanda stood silent waiting for Joan to begin the game they always played. Joan's eyes fell on the brass length of the dog leash hanging to Amanda's right. She took it from the wooden peg and hooked it through the ring on the collar around Amanda's long, sinuous neck.

"Sorry, girl," Joan baby-talked and stepped close to Amanda, running her nose in the shell of Amanda's ear and sending her hot breath down the channel while her lips nibbled the lobe.

"I understand," replied Amanda with hurt in her eyes. The older woman squatted until she reached all fours. Then she rose on her knees and began unbuttoning Joan's shorts. When the top came loose she kissed the girl's downy belly with full pouting kisses. Pulling the brief cotton pants slowly down from Joan's firm young buttocks, Amanda followed the progress of her sculpting hands with lavish kisses. She licked her way along the resilient marble smoothness of Joan's thighs. The golden tan flesh tingled cleanly on her tongue.

Joan sighed deeply and began unbuttoning the sheer blouse. Her lean fingers nimbly ran the row of pearl-shaped buttons through the buttonholes. She shrugged and the top was off just as Amanda's tongue reached her ankle bone. When she stepped out of the shorts Amanda caught her foot and bit lightly at the leather straps of her sandal. Slowly, she slid it off. Still holding Joan's foot in the air she took one finely shaped toe into her mouth and sucked on it. The movement was highly effective. Joan felt the first heat in her belly and a sound like a hiss curled from between her lips.

Amanda was back on her hands and knees before Joan, running her tongue in and out of the girl's hot pussy. The brass leash Joan held loosely in her hand coiled over Amanda's shoulders and onto the scoop of her bare back. Amanda wagged the golden mounds of her hips as she rubbed her thighs together. Her tongue was scooping the musky nectar of Joan's cunt lavishly into her mouth. She cherished the soft inner lips as if it were a loving cup and the wine within truly holy. Joan was her master as with her avid tongue she drew the girl's secret juices down her throat.

"Let's go into the living room," Joan said. "We'll be more comfortable. And don't let's make it an evening of you silently obeying my commands on your hands and knees. I'm much too excited for all of that. I want to know about the circus job!"

The room they entered was essentially black and white. The walls were charcoal, the heavy shag rug, white. The couch was covered in real zebra skin. Before it stood a large glass-topped coffee table with an angular brass base. Opposite the couch were a pair of horsehair ottomans. The soft cylinders were covered with skin from painted ponies. In one corner there was a reclining sculpture chair made of wood and black leather. Balancing the room was a huge, overstuffed white goatskin lounging chair. The accessory tables were made completely of glass. Globed lights hung about the room from copper chains, lighting it well but leaving geometric shadows clinging to everything and everyone in the room.

"Amanda, may I have that mandarin housecoat you gave me last Christmas? That's a dear," said Joan as she unhooked the leash from Amanda's collar. She watched the woman leave the room to fetch the coat. She wanted to lie back on the zebra couch and have Amanda lick her pussy. But she just could not get relaxed into the feeling of the prickly hair of the couch cover on her bare skin. She wondered how Amanda could stand it.

Joan looked around at the portraits of dogs on the walls. A huge painting of Prince hung above the fireplace mantel. There was a grouping of fox hounds to his right and another smaller, more revolutionary portrait of a grey wolfhound to the left.

A rogue's gallery of photographs considering pedigreed faces occupied one entire wall. What seemed to be every large breed was there. But, of course, predominance was held by Prince's family since he had been with Amanda for so long. Once Amanda had explained to Joan that Great Danes were used for lion hunting. The dauntless spirit which years of breeding evolved to that purpose was one reason Amanda admired Danes so much. "It's what you must look for in the puppy, Duke, when you take him, Joan," Amanda had said one day by way of counsel.

Joan turned her attention away from wondering what Amanda had meant, and her eyes fell on a red lacquer box. Painted in gold, silver and black, a lion stood by a pond. That must have been what caused me to think of the mandarin housecoat "here," said Amanda, returning as if she were a piece of the puzzle of Joan's thought.

"Gosh, Amanda, this room is peculiar when I'm alone in it. It's so erotic. I was just now looking off at a lion. That must be what I think of as typifying the circus job before me. Please! I want to hear about the job." Joan took the housecoat from Amanda's outstretched hand.

"Oh, Joany, I've got my collar on. And you know how I feel like worshipping you," said Amanda with a whimper.

"All right, Mandy, come and lick me, pussycat. You can tell me while I cream." Joan obliged Amanda as she would a child and sprawled her body gracefully on the couch. The housecoat which she had donned reached only to the top of her box when she stood so that when she sat her ass could feel the wiry hairs from the couch's zebra coat. But that was all right because the buns of her ass would sweat as Amanda licked her. It was her back that the couch really irritated and which the coat was to protect.

Amanda pressed her breasts on either side of Joan's thigh as she knelt, laying herself at Joan's feet.

"Joany?" she whined in a little voice, "I've something to tell you, so please don't be mad."

"What is it, pussycat?" Joan asked contentedly. But suddenly alarmed when she suspected something amiss with the job: "What? Nothing's the matter--I hope I've still got the job?"

"Yes, you've got it," answered Amanda. "But maybe you won't want it when you hear what I've got to tell you. The animal trainer's name is Westmore. In fact, it's Myrna Westmore, my twin sister--if the truth must be known."

At first Joan felt ill at ease with the news. To begin with, Amanda was a Gemini, and after five years of being close with Joan suddenly springing a twin out of the blue was unique to say the least. Some harbored secret must be brooding in Amanda's soul, and Joan was not sure she wished to get involved in anything so incestuous. But that's what the circus is, Joan told herself as she struggled with the inner conflict for words to answer Amanda.

"Why haven't you told me of her before this?" Joan spoke, the pique rising in her face.

"Because she is the one who trained me to be as I am right now. And though I find it so uniquely pleasurable I was still afraid that you would not allow yourself to be tested with her, when you discovered all the circumstances of the job."

"When are you going to learn to trust me, Amanda? Bestiality is good to me. I want more of it. However, my point of view is different from yours, and I do not have to pervert my mind in order to occupy another dimension. The fact that underneath you sort of wanted me to be like you after your sister gets finished with me caused you to conceal what you should not have--if for no other reason than that I, too, have mastered you."

The woman whimpered at the reprimand in the girl's voice. She had been rebuked and must now plead submissively to resume licking Joan's cunt. Joan had no wish to see Amanda grovel her voluptuous body tonight. She patted Amanda's head and assured her with warm blue eyes that she could continue.

Immediately Amanda's hot tongue plunged into the crevice between Joan's willowy legs. It fluttered wetly through the foliage of hair and licked at her clit. Joan opened her legs wider and scooted downgrain on the cushion. The hair that covered the couch became even slicker as an even sweat broke out on Joan's flanks and hips.

"What's she like, Amanda? Myrna, I mean?" Joan asked vacantly as she pictured a brazen version of Amanda stepping into the animal pen whip in hand.

"You'll see, dear," answered Amanda as her tongue slid in and out of the cavern in Joan's gently rolling hips. "Umm. You taste so good, baby. Spread your legs wider so I can get my tongue in farther. Ummm, ummmm."

Joan widened her legs and let thoughts of the circus drift away through her mind. She felt like a seagull lazily flying above the ocean. Like a body of rolling water, Amanda's mouth sucked while her tongue twirled in Joan's cleft and shocks of pleasure emanated through the girl like an electric bird.

"Amanda. Am I stronger than her, your sister?"

"If you remain at heart true to yourself. It will take courage to face her among her animals. Of course, she may not choose to test you--but then your summer would be a bore."

Hush, child, Amanda's thoughts continued. I don't wish to speak this nonsense to you while my tongue licks at your love.

The wriggling pink snake-shaped tongue cleft into the volcanic hole of Joan. The fires erupted and her orgasm started to build boiling up with her cum.

Joan began to hump her hips on the couch with increasing force. Soon her sweaty hips sang rocking off the slick zebra hair and slapped back down against its prickle.

The zebra hair was silky to the touch hut stiff on its ends: it felt to Joan like a silky wash brush stroking a soapy ass.

Amanda's huge hunk of tongue reamed the moist fleshy walls of Joan's blistering pussy. As each hot sparkle of fluid reached the hungry tastebuds, Joan's juices were sucked into Amanda's molten mouth.

Joan locked her legs around Amanda's auburn head and let the woman's tongue ravage her eager cunt. The ragged edges of her pink vagina held tiny bubbles of the joy juice up for Amanda's flicking tongue to lick off.

"Oh, it's so good," Joan wheezed, tears of pleasure welling up in her eyes and causing the two-tone room to spin greyly.

Amanda ran her tongue like a channel beneath Joan's cut. The turgid pink stud throbbed with the swift wet passage the channel had become. A river of cum raged its twisting way down the corridor of canyons of Amanda's tongue and thrilled the love bud awake. The love button scooped out a passage against the grain of Amanda's plunging tongue and hot wet chills sang through Joan's torso.