Forbidden Pleasure

_{Chapter 8}

"How does it work?" Emily asked Savannah. They were curled up together on Lady Palmer's large bed. Lord Palmer was in London, and Michael Devlin was flying back to New York even as she spoke. Emily could hardly wait to follow. Two nights ago she and Devlin had engaged in the most incredible sex. She wanted more.

"Actually, it works just like the old one, except if you click the enter button twice, both of us can enter the same fantasy," Savannah explained. "They're just trying it out with a few good customers worldwide. I haven't attempted it with a friend yet, but I thought this would be a great time to try it."

"I don't know, Savannah," Emily demurred.

"Now that you know what sex is really all about," Savannah said, "aren't you just the tiniest bit curious to know the perverted side of it? I know you, Emily. If Devlin doesn't propose you'll never marry, and you probably won't take another lover in or out of the Channel. This is your chance to experience some naughtier aspects of sex."

"Devlin and I have had oral and anal sex," Emily replied. "And he likes to spank me now and again."

"Ever had multiple partners?" Savannah replied. "Of course you haven't. There are things you should experience, if only once. You know you have the right to refuse or say no. And I'm going to be there too."

"Where?" Emily asked.

"London, 1870. I've created this fancy brothel called the Cock and Cunt. I peopled it with a Madame Rose, pretty whores, and lots of randy gentlemen. Only wealthy gentlemen can afford the Cock and Cunt. We'll be two of the girls. You'll be Molly, and I'll be Polly. We're cousins, and the men are all mad about us."

"I suspect I shouldn't ask," Emily said, "but what are we wearing?"

"Well, to begin with, we both have long, curly hair down our backs," Savannah said. "Do you want to change your color? I like my black hair, especially with my fair skin. Actually, I think your coloring is perfect."

"What are we wearing?" Emily asked again.

"Not a whole lot." Savannah giggled. "We have black silk stockings that are gartered at the thigh, and colorful short silk robes with sashes."

"How short?" Emily wanted to know.

"They barely conceal your pussy," Savannah admitted.

"Sounds very provocative," Emily noted. "I think I should have a narrower waist and bigger boobs, though. What do you think?"

"Tiny waist and curving hips," Savannah replied. "Very fashionable, Em! And we'll be twenty. It's a perfect age! Then you'll do it with me?"

"I shouldn't," Emily said, "but a couple of hours without Devlin and I find myself getting very horny, Sava. I don't know what the hell has come over me; I seem to want sex all the time. Sometimes I think I would have been better off to remain a virgin."

"No, you wouldn't have!" Savannah said. "Look, sex is fun. And sex on the Channel is not just fun; it's guilt-free. These fantasies are our secrets. We don't share them with the men we love, or even most other women. Men have their secret fantasies too. And some not so secret, like old Reg up in London boink-ing Gillian tonight. She's such a cow. I don't know what he sees in her, Emily."

"The forbidden," Emily said sagely. "Aaron says my relationship with Devlin is something forbidden." She sighed. "I never thought to fall in love with him. And if I'm in love with him, should I be cavorting on the Channel with other men?"

"The men we're going to cavort with are fantasy men. They don't exist in our reality, Emily. No guilt," Savannah repeated. "Besides, Devlin hasn't committed himself to you yet. And God knows, he's had plenty of other women in his time. He's your first," Savannah responded softly. "We'll have a great deal of fun, I promise you, and you know you can stop it anytime you want. But you won't want to stop, I'll wager."

"If I did, would I spoil your evening?" Emily wanted to know.

Savannah shook her head. "No, you wouldn't. I understand from the brochure I got that we can go into the Channel together, but we don't have to return together. Curfew, of course, is the same. We'll wake up here. We're the toast of the Cock and Cunt, Miss Molly. The men all adore us, and we're Madame Rose's special pets because of it." She tilted her head to one side. "Are you ready for a wicked adventure?"

Emily laughed. Why not? she thought. In my reality I would never be unfaithful to Devlin, particularly if we marry. This is probably the only chance I'll ever get to be a wild child. And having Savannah with me is just perfect. She can always get me to attempt things I might otherwise never try. "I'm ready," she said.

Savannah pointed the channel changer at the large plasma-screen television. She clicked the on button. She clicked the proper numeral. And there on the screen an elegant parlor came into view. The couches were upholstered in ruby-red velvet. They matched the heavy curtains covering the windows. The furniture was dark mahogany in the Empire style, with bright brass fittings. Some of the tabletops were of marble. The carpeting on the floor was of thick wool in the Oriental style. Everything was expensive and of the best quality, from the Waterford chandelier hanging from the center of the gilt plaster ring of fruit upon the ceiling to the decanters on a mahogany sideboard to the heavy gilt-framed paintings on the wall, which offered tasteful scenes of gods, goddesses, satyrs, nymphs, and centaurs in various sexual pursuits.

In the middle of a large settee covered in purple-and-turquoise-striped satin sat a large, voluptuous woman in a beautiful bright green silk gown with a low neckline that showed a generous amount of her big snow-white breasts. Emeralds and diamonds sparkled around her neck and at her ears. Her red hair was drawn back in a chignon, which was decorated with creamy camellias. "Where are Miss Molly and Pretty Polly?" the woman said in a slightly rough voice that belied her elegant appearance. She looked about the large parlor, which was filled with several well-dressed gentlemen and a number of scantily clad young women.

Savannah double-clicked the enter button. "Here we are, Madame Rose," she answered as she and Emily walked into the parlor.

Madame Rose looked both women over critically. "A prettier pair of soiled doves I ain't never seen," she said, smiling at them. She had big teeth, and they were faintly yellow with her age, for Madame Rose had seen a good half century. "Come and sit with me, my dears. I expect some of your regulars will be here soon enough tonight, and you'll be kept as busy as two little bees servicing their randy cocks in your juicy cunnies." She cackled. She patted the settee where she sat.

"If we sit down the gentlemen will see our pussies," Savannah simpered. Within the Channel in her guise of Pretty Polly she had lost fifteen years off her face. Her breasts were high and conical in shape beneath her short little robe of black silk. The color flattered her fair, creamy skin.

"They'll see your pussies soon enough," said the madam with a chuckle, "and a pretty one it is, my dear. All those thick black curls. I am amazed that you and Miss Molly are related in the first degree of cousinship. You do not favor each other at all in either features or personality."

"Yet we are both fine whores, are we not?" Savannah said. "And you would not have had Miss Molly had I not convinced her to join me."

"True, true," the madam agreed. "And you are both excellent girls, obedient and adventurous, although Miss Molly must often be convinced. How the gentlemen love strapping her plump bottom until she agrees. No one can cry as well as Miss Molly," the madam said approvingly, and she patted Emily's round pink knee.

Emily had been silent from the moment they had entered the Channel. Her surroundings were fascinating. The idea of being a whore in a brothel was intriguing. She was wearing a sheer pale lavender silk robe that came just to her thighs. She might as well be naked, she thought, yet the garment suited her current state.

Suddenly a party of boisterous gentlemen entered the parlor. They were dressed in formal evening wear. Flinging their cloaks and hats to a little maid, they looked about them. Spying the two young women with Madame Rose, they made directly for the pair. The leader of the group snatched up Madame Rose's hands and kissed them. She simpered at him.

"Bertie, you naughty boy, I know what you want, and you shall have it," she said with a wide smile, showing all her teeth.

"We want both of them, Madame Rose. There are six of us tonight, and we will need these two delicious wenches to keep us well entertained. May we have your special big room, or is it already taken?"

"I told you I knew what you would want." Madame Rose cackled. "I have saved the big room for your party. You will find champagne, well iced, and lots of toys awaiting you. Miss Molly and Pretty Polly have been eagerly awaiting your arrival," she assured the group. "Go along now, girls, with your fine gentlemen, and entertain them well," she ordered Savannah and Emily, pushing them gently from their places at her side.

"Come, sirs," Savannah said, taking the hands of Lord Albert Bowen and Sir William Cunliffe.

The Honorable Frederick Sinclair slipped an arm about Emily, grinning down at her lecherously. "Come, Miss Molly. I am longing for your kisses."

"And where would you like those kisses to be, Master Freddie?" Emily heard her alter ego asking. Then she giggled and patted his trouser front.

They reached what was known as the big room, and the gentlemen stripped off their coats and vests. Champagne was poured, and they drank liberally.

When the first bottle had been emptied, Lord St. Albans said, "Open your robes, girls, and display your treasures for us to see."

The two women obeyed, revealing their generous breasts and well-furred pussies. Emily was rather fascinated by the amount of pubic hair she suddenly had: tight red-blond curls that overflowed from between her thighs. Her breasts were large and round, with very prominent nipples. St. Albans cupped one of her breasts familiarly, tweaking a nipple, and it immediately stiffened for him.

Baron Everhard licked his lips slowly, and then said, "I want to see you two girls standing facing each other and rubbing your titties together."

Each girl cupped her breasts in her two hands, and then, moving to face each other, began to rub their nipples against one another. Emily's nipples puckered again, and the men chuckled. She blushed, but Savannah just grinned mischievously at her and, leaning down, kissed Emily's right nipple.

"Move closer to each other, girls, put your arms around each other, and rub your pussies against each other," St. Albans told them.

The men watched, two of them growing visibly excited by the little scene before them. Savannah leaned forward and kissed Emily's lips. Her fingers lost themselves in her companion's pubic curls, and Emily's eyes widened in surprise.

"Let's have a girl fuck," one of the men suggested. "It's always a good way to begin a long evening of fucking, frigging, and sucking."

"Capital idea, Johnnie!" another enthused.

"Wait!" St. Albans said, his eyes glittering with his lust. "Why should we waste time watching the ladies when we could be fucking them ourselves? On your back, my adorable Miss Molly."

"Oh, sir, I am hardly ready for that fine man cock of yours," Emily murmured, eyes wide, a single finger in her mouth, making her appear quite innocent.

"Then you shall have Master Dildo and a little bottom birching to warm you up for me, my darling," St. Albans told her. "Gentlemen, if you two would take Mol's legs and bring them up and back so I may have perfect access to her cunny."

"She'll need to be prepared for the dildo," Sir William said. "Let me!" And, straddling the daybed, he leaned forward, and, drawing Emily's nether lips apart, he began to lick the pinkish flesh with a very skilled tongue.

Emily gasped with surprise, for she was being aroused by this strange man, and she wondered if that was right. But the tongue caressing her was most adept, and when he nibbled on her clitoris she could not restrain her squeal of pleasure.

Sir William got up, laughing, and removed himself from between Emily's legs. "Now, St. Albans, give her a bit of the birch, and she will be quite ready for you."

Emily yelped as St. Albans brought the birch rod against her plump buttocks once, twice, and a third time. Then, taking the dildo, he carefully inserted it into Emily's vagina, whipped her three more strokes of the rod, and then began to move the dildo back and forth, slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity.

Savannah lay down by her friend's side and murmured into her ear, "Pretend to come or he'll be at it all night. Just close your eyes and moan. Thrash your head too."

Emily closed her eyes. The leather dildo was more irritating than exciting. "Oh! Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!" Her strawberry-blond head rolled from side to side. "Ohhhhhhhh!" She stiffened her body and made herself shudder. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

St. Albans pulled the dildo from Emily's cunt. The bulge in his trousers was enormous. "Give Pol a good treat, boys, while I reward our Miss Molly with what she really desires," he said, unbuttoning his trousers to release his penis which, to Emily's eyes seemed even bigger than the nine-inch leather dildo. "Now, darling," he said, slipping between her thighs, "you have been such a good girl I'm going to let you have a taste of the real thing." He kissed her lips, his auburn mustache tickling her.

"Oh, sir, you are so very big," Emily said.

He chuckled indulgently, pleased by her observation. "Let's see how well you can take a ten-and-a-half-inch cock." He began to push into her.

Emily wrapped her legs about his torso, and he grunted his approval. He was indeed very big, but to her surprise-or was it delight?-she took him in easily, purring in his ear with pleasure as he began to fuck her lustily. His enthusiastic movements were arousing her, and without another thought she let herself enjoy the pleasure he was giving her, and that she was obviously giving him. She began to whisper in his ear, "Oh, sir, you are a bull, and I your little heifer. Oh, sir, I can feel your big balls slapping against my bottom. What a lover you are, sir! Yes! Yes! Oh, yesssssss!" She nipped at his ear and then, sticking her tongue into it, pushed it back and forth in time with his movements.

St. Albans groaned with delight. The evening had only begun, and it was, he decided, a great success. Miss Molly and Pretty Polly were the finest whores he had ever encountered, and there was going to be so much more to come. His thrusts became more intense, and then as he felt her coming he loosed his juices into her with a yell.

Across the room Savannah was lying upon a chaise while Lord Bowen fucked her enthusiastically and she sucked strongly upon the Honorable Frederick Sinclair's big cock. Baron Ever-hard had his penis in Bertie's asshole, fucking him in time with Bertie's thrusts into her own pussy. The evening had begun quite well, Savannah observed. She watched as Sir William went over to where St. Albans lay with Emily.

"Let someone else have a go, St. Albans," he said.

"She needs a restorative, Willie," St. Albans said. "Mol is a wonderful fuck, but I can see she wants some champagne."

"Very well," Sir William agreed. "I'll get it for her."

Emily did not know until afterward, but the champagne was well laced by Madame Rose with aphrodisiacs to keep the desires of her whores and their patrons up for several hours at a time. The longer a patron spent with one of her girls, the more money she collected. Of course, in the case of certain girls, like Molly and Polly, they were sold for an entire night's entertainment, which included a midnight supper of champagne, raw oysters, and chocolate truffles; and a breakfast of eggs, country ham, kippers, toast, butter, jam, and tea.

Sir William handed Emily a glass of champagne. "Drink it down, my pet," he said. "After all I have seen so far this evening, I am more than ready to fuck you."

"Oh, sir." Emily giggled. "You are very naughty, but I will do my best to please you, I promise." She gave him a mischievous smile.

"If I am naughty," Sir William said, "then you must birch me, my pet, and I shall be even naughtier for you. Would you like to whip my bottom, Miss Molly?"

Emily was amazed by her reaction to this suggestion, and her own behavior as well. She put a thumb in her mouth and, sucking upon it, looked coyly at him from beneath her lashes. "Can I whip you hard?" she halflisped at him.

His amber eyes glittered with anticipation. "As hard as you can, my pet. After all, bad boys need to be well birched if they are to perform well."

Now Savannah joined in the play. "He must be stripped naked," she said. "All of you must strip naked. Clothing inhibits one from fully joining in our little games."

Obediently the men took off their garments, and as they did the two young women folded the clothes and put them in a large mahogany cupboard on one side of the room. Then, going to the big basket of toys on the marble table with the round brass feet, Savannah took out a black leather collar decorated with brass studs from which hung a short brass chain. Wordlessly she handed the collar to Sir William. He looked at her questioningly.

"Put it on at once!" Emily said in a hard voice, falling right into the spirit of the game. "You will regret any further disobedience, Willie. Polly, choose a birch for me. One as thick as Willie's own index finger."

Gathered about them, the other men in the room grinned at one another.

"You should have the punishment bar, girls," Baron Ever-hard suggested. "Shall I fetch it for you now?"

"Ahh, the baron seeks to curry favor with you, Molly," Savannah said with an arch smile. "You will have to reward him for his good behavior."

"Oh, I shall," Emily promised with a little smile. "Yes, James, fetch the punishment bar from the cupboard like a good boy."

Grinning, Baron James Everhard walked across the room, opened the cabinet, and pulled out the required item. He drew the device across into the center of the chamber and, bending, locked the wheels so it would remain steady. An adjustable bar covered with lambs wool that was covered with silk rested between two narrow pilasters. Savannah led Sir William to the bar by his leash, which was then removed. He was bent forward, and the bar fitted to a height that would allow the lordling's bottom to be well displayed for his whipping. His arms were drawn out on either side of him and shackled so he could not flee. His legs were spread wide and shackled as well. He was quite helpless and ready to be punished. Savannah handed Emily the birch rod.

"Now, sir," Emily said in a stern voice. "You have admitted to being naughty. You will confess your fault, and then I shall decide how severe your punishment will be. What have you done, sir? The truth now!" She flourished the rod, which made a fierce swishing sound.

The other men looked to one another, grinning and nodding.

"I caught my cousin Eloise and her maid, Tansy, fondling each other's titties, licking each other's cunnies, and frigging each other. I threatened to tell on them if Eloise did not suck me to a stand, and then let me fuck her maid, but when the maid came too quickly, I buggered Eloise until I finally came. She is very angry at me."

"Did you request her permission to ass fuck her, William?" Emily said seriously.

"No," he said in a petulant tone. "I was far too angry at her wench for coming before I did. Eloise was lying on the bed. She laughed at me, so I rolled her over and just did it to her." He chuckled wickedly. "She squealed like a little piglet when my come filled her up."

"Well," Emily remarked, "you have certainly been a very, very naughty fellow. One does not ass-fuck a lady without her permission. Had it been the servant that would have been a different matter. After all, it was the maid who was at fault, not her mistress. You will have ten strokes of the rod, and then I shall decide if that is enough." Emily said, bringing the birch down on his plump buttocks. He yelped, his body jerking as much as it could as she continued on. When ten red stripes had bloomed upon his pale flesh, Emily asked Savannah, "Is he ready, Pol? Or must he have more?"

The other men looked to Savannah, who had seated herself before Sir William's penis, and watched as it began to rise with each stroke of the rod.

"I think he must have five more strokes, Molly, and I think it will help him if I can lick those big, hairy balls of his. Too much of the rod and he will falter entirely."

Emily began to slowly administer the final five strokes while Savannah attended to Sir William's balls with a wicked tongue. When the last blow had fallen and his friends rushed to undo Sir William, Savannah remained, licking him. But once freed, Sir William pushed Emily to the floor, fell upon her, and began fucking her vigorously. She wrapped her legs about his thick torso and enjoyed every minute of his attentions.

"Champagne!" Savannah sang out quickly, when Emily and Sir William moaned with their orgasms. "We must have more champagne! Then Emily and I must bathe before we continue on, good sirs. We still have much of the night ahead of us, and my cousin and I have not yet been fucked by all of you. I cannot count the night a success until that has happened."

"Oh, we shall all enjoy your bountiful charms, my pets," St. Albans promised.

He was, Emily observed, the leader of the group. He stood naked and quite at ease among his friends. He might very well have been at his club. "Is he going to be your next hero?" she murmured to Savannah who was now pouring the gentlemen their champagne. "He's very handsome and most commanding, I think."

"No, not this St. Albans," Savannah replied. "I'm planning on using an ancestor of his in my next book. It'll be a Renaissance setting. Henry the Eighth or Elizabeth. I haven't decided yet. St. Albans is a marquess's heir. I'm going to write about the ancestor who first got the earldom. The other title didn't come until Charles the Second."

Seeing that everyone now had a glass of fresh champagne, Emily lifted her own glass. "Drink up, good sirs! Polly and I don't want you to flag before the night is over."

The gentlemen laughed and raised their glasses, toasting Polly and Molly, the two finest whores in England.

"Can't speak for the rest of the world because I ain't never been nowhere," the Honorable John Stevenson declared as he drained his glass.

The two women insisted on bathing alone, for they knew that if they allowed the men to join them, all would be lost. Savannah was very particular where cleanliness was concerned, especially after such a round of sexual activity. Emily agreed. Hot water had been brought into the bath next to the big room, and they washed themselves thoroughly. Then, calling the gentlemen to them one by one, they bathed their private parts. They had no sooner finished the ablutions when a knock sounded upon the door, and it opened to reveal two footmen and two little maidservants.

The young men were dressed in tight breeches of dark black satin, and cream-colored vests that were embroidered with a floral design. They wore no shirts, and their arms were bare, their chests visible. Their penises hung out of their breeches, and the rear of the pants had circular cutouts revealing their tight bare buttocks. One of them carried a silver tray, and the other had his arms full of champagne bottles.

The little maids who accompanied them were dressed only in tightly gartered black stockings with ruffled white lawn aprons tied with large bows. Each wore a frilly lawn cap upon her head and calf-high black boots upon their feet. The maids at the Cock and Cunt, but for some older women who supervised, were usually whores in training whose virginities were auctioned off when they reached the age of sixteen. They bustled in now, smiling, one announcing, "Madame Rose thought you might enjoy a small repast now, sirs. There are raw oysters and champagne for the gentlemen, and chocolates and champagne for Miss Molly and Pretty Polly." She curtsied.

"Are you tired yet?" Savannah said softly to Emily. "Do you want to end this fantasy now? The gentlemen have been most enthusiastic tonight."

Emily shook her head. "No," she replied. "The champagne and the chocolates will reinvigorate me, Sava. Besides, I am curious as to what is to come. We have yet to use that enormous bed, which is surely large enough for all of us."

"We're about to use it." Savannah chuckled as the Honorable Frederick Sinclair and Baron James Everhard came to lead her by the hand to the bed. Lord Bertie Bowen and the Honorable John Stevenson came for Emily. St. Albans was recovering, and Sir William was swallowing down the last of the raw oysters.

Lying on the bed, Emily kissed Lord Bowen's lips as her other companion lay behind her, fondling her large breasts. Lord Bowen's fingers played amid her pubic curls for a few moments before pushing past her nether lips to find her clitoris. She continued kissing him, her tongue playing hotly with his tongue. She was just faintly aware of Johnnie Stevenson stroking her bottom with seductive touches. She murmured and pressed back against him. His cock was hard, and, encouraged by her, he rubbed it down the valley between her buttocks.

Then Lord Bowen was lifting one of her legs and bringing it over his torso as he slipped his thick penis into her cunt. Emily felt her ass being pulled open, and her other companion rubbing her fundament with some sort of cream. Then he was pushing into her. She whimpered slightly, but he was already fully sheathed, and his hands were back upon her breasts. "Ohh," she exclaimed as the men began to gently ream her from both ends. "Ohh! Ohh!" Would they find that certain spot? Oh, God, yes! They were working it from both sides, and it was incredible.

"You can take two, my dear," Lord Bowen said.

"And later you will take three," Johnnie Stevenson said, grunting as he worked in rhythm with his friend. "That's it, Mol, push your little ass back nicely onto my cock as Bertie fucks your pretty pussy. How tight you are!"

Lord Bowen groaned with the pleasure he was receiving, and Emily, feeling the two penises almost rubbing against each other as they stroked that sweet little spot within her thought she was going to die of satisfaction. Could you die in the Channel? Could you die of incredible and wonderful sexual satisfaction? She didn't care. And then to her utter amazement they all came at almost the exact moment. She was being spermed from both ends, and it was unlike anything she had ever known before. She tore her lips from Lord Bowen and shrieked with pure delight. Then she fainted.

"Magnificent!" St. Albans said as he observed the trio. "The girl is a perfect whore, gentlemen. Give her some champagne and help her to recover. I must have her again. What an adorable ass she has. I have never seen better."

"Give her time to recover, St. Albans," Savannah said. "She has never before taken two men in that fashion. She has fucked and sucked, and she has been buggered. But she has never been fucked and buggered at the same time. It was an incredible performance, and even I am amazed that she did it so well."

"And she'll do it again!" St. Albans insisted. "I want her ass this time!"

"And I want her pussy," Freddie Sinclair said. "I haven't had a taste yet at all."

"Take me first," Savannah begged. "It will give Molly time to recuperate. Why should she have all the fun?" She turned onto her knees, thrusting her buttocks up. "Is this not worthy of your cocks, gentlemen?"

Sir William grinned. "I'm a fool for a tight ass," he said.

"And Pretty Polly has the juiciest cunt I've ever known," the baron said.

The two men quickly had Savannah impaled on their engorged penises, and they all enjoyed themselves greatly before a mutual orgasm that left both men in a weakened state, for Savannah had squeezed both her vaginal and rectal muscles until both men were so filled with lust that their come burst forth in fierce spurts. She, however, felt merely refreshed. What a pity Reg would allow them to have only another woman in their bed. The things a girl could do with two men were delightful, she thought, and far more interesting than what two women might do together. She would do this again in the Cock and Cunt. It was her favorite fantasy on the Channel to date.

Emily gradually regained consciousness and was plied with more of the champagne laced with aphrodisiacs. She was thirsty, and drank it down gladly. This evening was certainly an eye opener where sexual activity was concerned. She had seen pictures of much of what they had done in her research books, but in the reality of the Channel these things were far more exciting than on a printed page.

"What time is it?" Willie Cunliffe asked.

"Three thirty," St. Albans said, "and time for me to have Miss Molly's ass for myself. Are you recovered, my pet? As you can see, my poker is quite ready for you."

"I want to do it differently," Emily said. "I want three cocks this time. I've never before done three at one time."

James Everhard chuckled as he lay sprawled among the pillows in the middle of the bed. "Come onto my lance then, Mol. St. Albans can have you from the rear, and Freddie will have your mouth."

"Ohh, yes!" Emily agreed, and straddling him, lowered herself onto his penis. It was every bit as large as St. Albans', and slid into her vagina easily. Leaning forward to facilitate her second lover, she felt St. Albans slowly pushing into her ass. The two men began to move in concert, and when they had established a rhythm Freddie Sinclair pulled Emily's head up by her hair, and Savannah guided his cock into Emily's mouth. She began to suck upon him, but the young man had been so aroused by just watching her with the baron and St. Albans that he came almost immediately. Emily, however, understanding his embarrassment, kept him in her mouth, sucking hard upon him and covering his faux pas.

Savannah was, in the meantime, sucking upon the Honorable Johnnie's cock while Lord Bowen fucked her lustily, to be replaced eventually by Sir William. And then the two women heard the clock on the mantel striking the hour. Each regretted the time, but there were strict rules regarding the use of the Channel. They allowed their final orgasms to wash over them, and as the pleasure died they woke up together in Savannah's bed. Turning to look at each other, they burst into laughter.

"You are the best and most awful friend a girl could have," Emily said, grinning. "I have never known a night like that. I never expect to know a night like that again, Sava. I don't believe I could survive another night like that. What a wicked imagination you have to have created such lusty men as those six."

"We could go again," Savannah tempted her. "I know I will."

"No, thank you very much," Emily replied.

"Was it as good as with Devlin?" Savannah wanted to know.

"No," Emily said honestly. "I'm not such a dope that I don't know you can get sexual pleasure with a man you don't love as long as you're having fun. But it's entirely different when you love a man, and you know it. I've had a taste of wickedness, Sava, but it will suffice me for the rest of my life."

"But you seemed to enjoy the multiple partners," Savannah said.

"I did, but you couldn't go on like that in the real world. A night like that would kill a healthy woman. And sex without emotion… well, it just isn't right. At least not for me, Sava. Call me old-fashioned, but there it is. It was a fun night, but I don't want to do it again. I don't think I could justify it to myself if I did."

Savannah nodded. "I don't think I'll be taking the Channel's new service myself. I've had it two months now. I never wanted to use it before tonight. I don't really need it. I can visit the bordello on my own. But it was quite an experience, wasn't it?"

"And you pregnant with your third child!" Emily scolded.

"Nothing I do on the Channel harms that," Savannah said. "I asked."

"Who did you ask?" Emily wanted to know.

"Haven't you met Mr. Nicholas, who created the Channel? He's absolutely charming. He invited me to tea once before he moved on to his other interests. There's some woman running the Channel for him now. This double-click thing was her idea, I guess. I never met her, but I did meet him. I clicked on one night and there was this text message for me. I was invited to tea by Mr. Nicholas. Well, I couldn't resist, Emily, so I went. He asked me how I was enjoying it, and some other questions. All very harmless, and he had the most delicious chocolate biscotti. Actually, we didn't have tea. It was sherry. It was a wonderful sherry, but when I asked him where I might get a bottle he apologized and said it was bottled for him expressly. I've never seen him again, but I think he liked me," Savannah concluded. "He said that if he could ever be of help I was simply to leave him a message, and he would help me. Wasn't that nice? Maybe I'll ask him if he can do something about Gillian Brecknock. I wonder if he could. I hate it when Reg goes to see her."

Emily nodded. "Sounds a bit odd," she said. "But nice." She yawned. "I have to get some rest if we're going up to London day after tomorrow, Sava." Turning away from her friend, she curled up and was soon asleep. Lady Palmer quickly joined her.

The two women spent the next day relaxing, riding out into the autumn countryside, and playing with Savannah's children. They went to bed early, and the following morning were up early. Tonight Emily would be flying home, and the two friends were going up to London for a few hours of shopping before Lord Palmer's chauffeur would take them out to Heathrow. In late afternoon they stopped in at Claridge's for tea.

"Put us somewhere discreet," Savannah said to the maitre d'. "We don't wish to be disturbed by fans, Charles."

"Of course, Lady Palmer," the maitre d' said, leading them to a table in a corner where they might observe the room without necessarily being observed. "High tea?"

Savannah nodded. "Perfect!" she said.

"I'll send the waiter over immediately," the maitre d' replied with a bow, and he hurried off.

"I love having tea here," Emily said. "It's so genteel, even today."

"Yes," Savannah agreed. "Well, are you ready to finish The Defiant Duchess after your little interlude here in England?"

"The whole thing is in my head and ready to be written. Poor Trahern will be very disappointed to know our time is almost over and done. He's been a most charming character, and I've actually enjoyed interacting with him. I think I would have felt guilty about it, except I made him look like Devlin." She chuckled.

"Will Mick recognize himself?" Savannah was curious.

"No," Emily said. "You describe a character on the pages of your manuscript, and you see him or her one way, but every reader sees them a little differently. Devlin hasn't recognized himself. It's odd. I've come to like Trahern. He's been more a friend and a confidant for me. Given the nature of what I do, I don't really have a lot of friends. Rina Seligmann is in her late fifties, and more a surrogate mother to me. You're in England." Emily laughed. "And the truth is, I don't really have a great deal of time for friends."

"I know what you mean," Savannah agreed. "If it weren't for Reg and the children I'd be pretty much alone. I'm just barely involved in village life, but only because of him and the kids. And I don't really have any close women friends except you, and as you pointed out, we're an ocean apart. Well, that's the life of a successful writer, isn't it? We live for and are consumed by our work. It's a lonely business."

"But you manage to do it even married with children," Emily remarked, and then her eye caught a couple entering the room. The woman looked familiar. "Oh, my God!" she said, and forced herself not to stare.

"What is it?" Savannah wanted to know.

"Your husband just came in with a woman who looks suspiciously like Madame Rose," Emily said, her fingers fumbling for her teacup. "Thinner, but same face and blazing red hair."

"Oh, that's Gillian Brecknock," Savannah said casually. "Reg's little friend."

"She looks older than him," Emily observed from beneath lowered lashes.

"She's twelve years older, sweetie," Savannah replied with a small grin.

"Why does he do it? I can see he loves you and the kids," Emily said.

"Well, I wondered that myself," Savannah answered, "when I found out he was coming up to town to see her every now and again. He swore to me when we married that he had given her up, but as he obviously hadn't, I hired an investigator to find out for me what was going on. Gillian styles herself an actress, but she hasn't had a play in five years, and she hasn't done a film in eight. She needs to support herself, and Reg is just one of a number of friends she has who suffer from what I call naughty-boy syndrome. Gillian has become a dominatrix. It's all very discreet. A number of very prominent men go to her for what is referred to as correction. She's obviously very good at what she does. I was shopping here in town about a year ago and saw them together. That's when I got suspicious, but I suppose it's harmless, and I know Reg loves me, so I simply pretend I don't know, like the wives of all the other men for whom Gillian serves a purpose. However, she was Reg's girlfriend before she became what she is, which makes it a little different. He handles her investments, and now and again she calls him."

"And you manage not to kill her?" Emily said. "I'd be furious, not to mention jealous of a woman like that."

"Oh, I have my little ways of getting even just to remind her who's really in charge of Reginald Charles George Arthur Palmer," Savannah said as she popped a miniature lemon-curd tart into her mouth and ate it. "You'll see when we go out."

The two women finished their tea and prepared to leave for the airport. Savannah stood up. She smoothed her cream-and-beige tweed skirt and the cream cashmere turtleneck she was wearing, checked her lip gloss, and fluffed her shoulder-length ebony curls. Then, sliding from behind the table, she gave Emily a wink and charted their path to take them directly by the table where her husband and Gillian Brecknock were now seated. Emily followed, swallowing back the giggles bubbling up in her throat.

Savannah stopped directly in front of the table. She smiled brightly. "Darling! What a coincidence! Em and I had just finished our tea when I saw you. Gillian, what a surprise. You're well, I hope." She bent and air-kissed the woman as her husband stood up from his seat at the table.

"Very, darling," Gillian Brecknock replied in her plummiest tones. "You look wonderful for someone who lives in the country. I do adore tweed, but one just doesn't wear it in London these days."

"This is my best friend, Emilie Shann, the novelist," Savannah introduced her.

"Charmed, Miss Shann," Gillian Brecknock replied, offering Emily four limp fingers. "My mother adores your novels. When is the next one coming out here?"

Lord Palmer looked very uncomfortable, Emily noted, pleased. He should. He was such a pig. "Em really not certain," Emily answered the woman.

"Reg, my love," Savannah said brightly, "I've got the car, and I'm running Emily out to the airport. Are you coming home tonight? I can come back and pick you up. I have a wonderful surprise for you." She hesitated, and then continued. "Oh, I just can't wait for you to come home! I have to tell you now! We're expecting again!"

Lord Palmer grabbed Savannah and kissed her a lingering kiss. "What fantastic news!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I'll wait for you here at Claridge's, darling. Shall I book us a room for the night so we can celebrate?" he asked her.

"Oh, darling, what fun! That's brilliant," Savannah responded. "I'll come back to the hotel after I drop Emily. But no champagne for me now that I'm preggers again." She laughed. She gave her husband a kiss and, sliding from his embrace, smiled at Gillian Brecknock. "So good to see you, darling. Ta!"

"Good-bye, Miss Brecknock," Emily said. "My housekeeper just adores your old movies on the telly. So nice to have met you. When I tell Essie she'll be thrilled." And, turning, Emily followed Savannah from the restaurant.

They both burst into giggles as the hotel doorman signaled Lady Palmer's car, and they climbed into it.

"What are they serving in there, m'lady? Never thought tea was that funny," the family chauffeur asked, grinning in his mirror at the two women, who were caught in the throes of their laughter.

"Just a particularly silly jest, Jim," Lady Palmer answered, and she pressed the button that put up the privacy window between driver and passengers.

"That was fun!" Emily said.

"I know," Savannah replied. "It's almost too easy with Gillian. Is Essie really a fan of the bitch's?"

"Essie wouldn't know Gillian Brecknock if she fell over her," Emily responded, "but after that remark about her mother enjoying my books I couldn't resist having my revenge. Wait until Mama reads The Defiant Ducbesss." She giggled.

"I really am going to miss you," Savannah said.

"We'll always have e-mail," Emily teased her friend. "And the phone."

"Not the same, but it will have to do, I'm afraid," Savannah said.

"It's been the most wonderful week." Emily sighed. "But that manuscript is going to be in on time, and Merry Christmas to J. P. Woods. Devlin says the advertising and promotion are really spectacular. They have a whole bunch of interviews arranged for me. I can do the radio stuff at home, and we'll do a dozen or more on television from a studio in the city. It sounds really exciting."

"And you'll have Mick pitching the book hard," Savannah said. "Emily…" She hesitated, but then went on: "I don't want you to get hurt. You've done what you had to do to write this book. But if it doesn't go any further then you mustn't be heartbroken, sweetie. He's a great affair, or so the women I know who've been with him have said; but I'm not sure he's more than that. Oh, damn! I know you love him, but too often these things don't work out. You have to be prepared for it. And you don't want to lose him as an editor. He really is the best. I'm going to be working with him again. I could not tolerate old Pruny, and I called Martin. My manuscripts are going to New York now, and Mick will do them. They're published there anyway, and with the computer it's so easy now. Not like the bad old days." She put her arm around Emily. "You're going to be all right with this, aren't you?"

"Rina says he's in love with me," Emily said softly.

"Well, I have to admit I did see a difference in him when you were together," Savannah admitted, "but I just don't want you being blindsided and hurt if he does the usual Mick thing and goes off with some other woman."

"I'm not going to let him," Emily said quietly. "He's mine, and I'm not nearly as tolerant as you are, Sava. I'm not one of my early heroines. I'm every bit as tough as my defiant duchess. Devlin is mine, and I mean to keep him."