The Dinner Party – 3

Isabel walked mutely back onto the dining veranda. It was irrational, but she was positive that they only had to take one look at her face to know what she’d just been doing. If they didn’t see it, they’d smell it – she was sure.

But Mr. and Mrs. d’Aubigne were on their feet, with Michél beside them, saying their goodnights. With what seemed like a little more reluctance, Mr. and Mrs. Fournier did the same. Carmen was being a perfect hostess, protesting that they were leaving far too early, but Isabel could hear the lack of conviction in her words.

“Must you go? Oh, how sad. Won’t you stay for a cognac?”

“No. It’s a long way back to town, my dear,” said Madame Fournier. “Next time, you must come to us.”

Michél stepped away from the crowd and cornered Isabel.

“It was such a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure we’ll meet again very soon,” he said with a sly grin.

“It was very nice. Yes, I’m sure we’ll run into each other. Saigon can be such a small place.” Isabel made a mental note that La Forchette was now strictly out of bounds.

“Well, you know where I am. You can find me any night of the week.”

“I certainly do,” replied Isabel.

Mr. d’Aubigne joined their group, smiling. “Would you like to ride with us back into town? We have a big car and lots of room. You aren’t going to find a taxi out here at this time of night.”

“Well,” hesitated Isabel. “It’s very kind of your to offer, but…”

A light hand fell on her shoulder. “But Isabel is staying with us for the weekend. She and Gilles have a mountain of translation work to do,” Carmen casually put her arm around Isabel’s shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. “Don’t you?”

Isabel blushed. “Oh…yes. Mountains,” she agreed, feeling slightly sheepish.

Michél and Monsieur d’Aubigne gave each other an enigmatic glance. Something that Isabel couldn’t discern passed between them.

“Well, that’s wonderful then. Everyone is set,” chirped Michél, grabbing Isabel’s hand and kissing her messily on both cheeks. Before he pulled away, he pressed his lips to her ear and hissed: “I’d love to see you two together, eating each other up.”

Isabel tugged her hand out of his grasp. She couldn’t think of anything more disgusting than performing for this repulsive slug of a man. The thought made her cringe.
Before she could get the words of disdain she was planning for him out of her mouth, Carmen slid her arm through Isabel’s and pulled her away, through the house and out onto the front steps of the entryway.

The guests were repeating their goodnights, the way all guests will. Carmen held Isabel’s arm possessively as she said her goodbyes and watched the guests get into their cars. Gilles was talking to the drivers, giving them directions to get back to the highway in rather bad Vietnamese.

“Smile and wave,” Carmen muttered. “Smile and wave.” Her fingers brushed discreetly against the side of Isabel’s breast as she watched them off.

Isabel, not knowing quite what else to do, did what she was told: she smiled and waved.

The minute the last of the cars had driven through the gates, Carmen turned to Isabel, wrapped her arms around her and kissed her hard on the mouth. The ferocity and intensity of the kiss startled Isabel. She’d never kissed a woman before and she hadn’t expected anything so forceful.

“Thank God. I thought they’d never leave,” murmured Carmen.

She kissed Isabel again, softer this time and Isabel found it impossible not to respond. The woman’s lips were so soft, so lush, and beneath the scent of her perfume, Isabel could smell the fragrance that had so overwhelmed her in the bathroom.

She relaxed in Carmen’s arms and drew her own around the woman, opening her mouth to Carmen’s questing, hungry tongue. It tasted of wine and strawberries; it was heady and addictive. Isabel sucked at it, as if she could consume and incorporate the very essence of Carmen that way.

“What a lovely picture you make.”

Isabel pulled away from the kiss. She was unsure of how something like this unfolded. Of course, she’d read all sorts of novels where three people were involved, but they were romantic and full of drama and jealousy. This was about skin and need and something quite indefinable. But something in the back of Isabel’s mind made her cautious.

“We’re hot, Gilles,” said Carmen, in a pouting, little girl’s voice. She pressed her warm cheek against Isabel’s. “We want to swim. Don’t we?”

Isabel giggled and nodded. She could feel the faint pulse in Carmen’s throat through the woman’s skin.

“Who am I to deny two beautiful women their desires?

Carmen laughed. “Will you watch, Mâitre?”

“Mais oui, naturellement . Let me grab a cognac.”

* * *

They shed their clothes as they walked through the courtyard. Isabel watched as Carmen unzipped her red dress and pulled it down, leaving it puddle on the tiles.

“You’re…” Isabel paused to find the words. For someone who had spent her whole life using words as tools, it was ironic that she was struggling to find the right ones now. Instead she reached out and laid a hesitant hand over one of Carmen’s breasts. “Very beautiful.”

Carmen laughed and shrugged, reaching up to unpin her hair. It tumbled down around her bare shoulders in dark cascades. Beneath her palm, Isabel felt the nipple stiffen.

“And what are you?” Carmen asked. She placed a hand on top of Isabel’s and squeezed. “Let’s see if you’re a mermaid. Come into the water.”

The pool shimmered electric blue as they waded in. The chill made Isabel suck in her breath. Cool eddies swirled around her thighs and, as she moved further in, her hips. She sighed.

“Come,” whispered Carmen, pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around Isabel’s waist and pressed their bodies together.

Isabel looked down. There was something painfully erotic about seeing their breasts pressed together, their nipples touching. Drawing Carmen’s face to hers, she pressed her lips against the woman’s mouth. Inhaling her scent again. There was something magical about her skin. Once her lips were in contact with it, it was hard to break away. She trailed her mouth over Carmen’s cheek and down her neck. The body in her arms shuddered as she opened her mouth and sucked at the skin.

“Isabel,” Gilles voice called from beyond the pool. “You must kiss her breasts. They’re exquisitely sensitive.”

Nodding, Isabel wrapped her arms around Carmen’s waist, lifting her up in the water. She gazed at Carmen’s perfectly petite breast; the rosy nipple crinkled and stiffened in anticipation. Isabel pressed her mouth over it, sucking it gently and dragging her tongue over the hard bud. Carmen moaned and arched her back, pressing more of herself into Isabel’s mouth.

Splashing in the water made Isabel open her eyes. Gilles was wading into the pool, his shirt undone, but otherwise fully dressed. He stopped beside them, a balloon glass of brandy in one hand.

“Bite it. She loves it.”

Isabel grazed the nipple with her teeth, and then softly bit it. Carmen’s body stiffened and twitched in her arms. She bit again, a little harder this time and was rewarded with another sharper twitch and a low, guttural moan.

Gilles draped his arm around Isabel’s shoulders and brought his lips to her ear. The sensation of his breath on her skin turned it to gooseflesh.

“Harder,” he whispered and then kissed her ear. “Don’t be scared to hurt her.”

Isabel mewed and pressed her teeth into Carmen’s flesh until she was worried that she’d break the skin. The effect was immediate: the woman in her arms bucked her hips and whimpered. She wrapped her legs tight around Isabel’s hips and began to rub herself sensuously against Isabel’s pelvic bone. What would it be like to have a cock and fuck her this way, Isabel wondered. She dropped her gaze to watch Carmen’s hips roll against her in the water.

Gilles finished off his brandy, waded to the side of the pool, and left the glass. When he returned, he put his arms around both of them.

“Carmen loves sex. Don’t you my little salope ? She’ll rub herself raw against anything if you’re not careful.” Gilles grabbed Carmen by the waist and lifted her onto the side of the pool. “Show Isabel your hungry little cunt.”

Carmen smiled, brushed her hair off her face and spread her legs wide. Isabel waded over to them, fascinated. She’d never seen any woman’s pussy but her own, in the mirror. Carmen was shaved, and her outer lips were plump and blood-engorged. Her clit peeked out from between her inner folds, dark red, like a beacon, the same size as her erect nipples.

Gilles reached between her legs and stroked it with his fingertips. His wife reacted by splaying her legs wider still and leaning back on her hands, letting her head drop back. She let out a moan like an animal in heat.

“Want to taste?”

Nodding, Isabel moved between Carmen’s legs stroking her thighs until her face was level with Carmen’s pussy. She’d never done this before, but she knew very well how good it could feel. She lowered her mouth onto Carmen’s vulva and stoked her tongue along the length of her slit. She began to tease the hard, erect bud with the tip of her tongue, unhooding it, giving it attention and then returning to long, languid laps.

Gilles moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, cupping her tits, teasing the nipples. Isabel moaned into Carmen’s pussy and began to suck rhythmically at her clit, dragging her tongue over the nub every so often, until she heard Carmen start to beg. Then, with one swift movement, she pushed two fingers deep into Carmen’s cunt. The slick, wet walls fluttered and contracted around her fingers. Isabel sucked harder, and pushed her fingers deeper, fucking as she feasted.

“Ah, Mâitre. Permettre-moi, je vous prie!” Carmen shouted.

Behind her, Gilles laughed. “She wants to come. Should we let her?”

Isabel nodded. “Yes,” she whispered against Carmen’s clit.

Carmen was coming. Her hips, perfectly still until now, bucked beneath Isabel’s mouth, fucking herself with Isabel’s fingers. A flood of juices seeped from her slit, drenching Isabel’s mouth and hand. It was just like she remembered, when she tasted Gilles’ fingers – sweet, musky and tangy.

Carmen roared and convulsed. Her legs shook with the strength of her orgasm. Then, as it abated, she lay backwards on the edge of the pool and sighed into the night sky. Isabel thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever witnessed.

“Kiss me,” said Gilles, pulling Isabel back into the centre of the pool. He turned her around in the water. “Kiss me.”

Isabel put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, her face and lips slick with Carmen’s juices. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and fed off it, holding her head in his hands, as if she were piece of fruit for him to devour. When he pulled away, he looked at her and smiled.

“Nothing tastes as good as my wife, on another woman’s lips.”