In Too Deep Read Free

herself on high heels or thick-soled trainers to
add a few inches.
    She stared at
her reflection in the pier-glass, wondering what to wear for the
evening's adventure. Will had told her he intended to reconnoitre
as soon as they'd had dinner. He'd obtained a map of the area and
knew precisely where Theona Blue was hiding, and the layout of the
house and grounds. But Denise had ordered them to look
inconspicuous, as if they were a couple of tourists.
    Julia rooted
through her grip-bag, pulling out her one good dress (a present
from Arlene). It was a flimsy slip, with a short flaring skirt and
camisole bodice brief to the point of immodesty. Blush-pink and
resembling silk, it added colour to her cheeks as she held it up
against herself. This would do for dinner, and she'd take along the
matching bolero jacket for later.
    Thrilled by
her surroundings, she couldn't wait to take off her jeans and vest
top, white bra and panties. Then, naked and feeling somehow wanton
and hedonistic, she headed for the shower stall. The tiles had a
floral pattern, the chromium shone, and she found a tube of
chestnut smelling gel, spun the tap and warm water jetted over her.
In these movie-star conditions her thoughts turned to sex;
disturbing thoughts that made her nipples peak with more than
contact with the spray. She stood with her legs apart a little,
massaging the gel over her breasts, seeing the small avalanche of
foam gliding into her dimpled navel and out again. It mingled with
her golden pubes and disappeared into her cleft. Her hand drifted
down to part the wet, silky hair and press on her clitoris.
    Virgin she
might be, but had discovered the joys of self-gratification long
ago. At first she hadn't realised what it was, thinking that when
she played with her pussy at night it was merely a bedtime ritual
associated with sleep. It wasn't till later that a friend told her
all about it and advised her how to use her fingers to best effect.
Julia had never looked back. She was interested in men, longing to
fall in love and experience intercourse, but sometimes wondered if
anything could be as beautifully satisfying as fingering her own
genitals.
    She sighed,
tensed, waited for the magic to begin. The gel was deliciously
slippery, her finger coasting over her clit. She watched herself,
wiping the mirror clear of steam, seeing that naughty blonde
frigging herself, one hand holding the labial folds apart, the
middle finger of the other slightly crooked as it teased her little
organ into full stiffness. The water was reduced to a trickle,
falling over her shoulder and running down to her feet. She worked
her clit, stroked it carefully, her nipples becoming redder,
hardening in response.
    The temptation
to bring herself off was too strong to resist. She wanted to make
it last forever, but her clit decided otherwise and she couldn't
stop rubbing it. She felt the sensation gathering in her loins and
at the base of her spine, was rising from peak to peak, borne on
ever increasing waves. The feeling reached her toes, clenched on
the wet shower tray, and then roared back up her thighs,
culminating in such a sweet burst of ecstasy that she whimpered,
shuddering at each successive spasm.
    With a deep
sigh she came down from the heights, feeling guilty, but loving it
too much to ever give it up. She finished washing and reached for
the shampoo, dunking her head under the jets. Arlene told her she
was lucky to have such curls. She never had to bother with
hairdressers, apart from a trim now and again, but mostly she let
it do as it pleased, tousled and shining. Yet she sometimes became
bored with it, wishing it could be trained into a sophisticated
coiffure, making her appear more mature.
    As Arlene was
fond of saying, 'No one's ever satisfied with their looks. My nose
is too big. So are my tits. You'd like to be taller and change your
hair. Stop fretting. You're okay as you are.'
    Julia
remembered this as she towelled herself dry, then blow-dried her
hair