Once her girlfriends had left, Rhonda settled on the couch and tried to calm her mind. She was nervous about facing up to Harry but resolute that she would not back down.
Harry arrived home just after 11:00, the earliest he’d gotten home in months. Rhonda wondered if one of the shearers had rung and warned him, as the confrontation wasn’t as traumatic as she had expected. If anything, Harry seemed relieved that his need for deception was over. He asked if she had anyone else. She knew he meant Doug and replied she didn’t, but she intended to bed at least a dozen men by Christmas.
He got angry and shouted at her. She laughed at him, “Calling the kettle black, aren’t you? Are you going to marry Liz?”
He calmed a little and replied that he didn’t know. He wasn’t the only man Liz had slept with in the past year, and his jealousy was a massive bone of contention between them. Finally, he seemed to realise what an arsehole he was being and calmed down. Rhonda helped him pack. He didn’t want to stay the night, saying he’d sleep at the Pub until he sorted out somewhere more permanent. And just after midnight, Rhonda waved goodbye to twenty-plus years of marriage.
The next three days went by in a blur. Rhonda went to the farm each morning, did her chores and took scones and tea to the shearers. She remembered young Daniel apologising profusely about this indiscretion and telling him he didn’t have anything to apologise for, as if it wasn’t him, she could have gone another year without knowing what her husband was doing behind her back. The other young shearer, Mick, increased his efforts to bed her, which she found amusing and flattering. Doug seemed irked by Mick’s advances. The first signs of interest he had shown in her.
Tuesday evening, she told her children that she and Harry had separated. The first one she called was Michael, her oldest. Rhonda felt slightly depressed when she hung up, as he seemed to be more on her husband’s side than hers. Next, she called Gemma and got quite the opposite response. Gemma was disgusted with her father and threatened to never speak to him again. Rhonda spent over half an hour trying to convince her not to take sides, explaining that it was a mutual split. But when they hung up, she didn’t think she’d managed to sway her. Finally, she called Ian, her youngest. That was interesting. He had found out about Harry and Liz six months before and told her it was part of the reason he had moved out and taken the apprenticeship in Tauranga. He was not speaking to his father. Again, Rhonda tried to convince him that this was not what she wanted. She didn’t bother to ask him why he had not told her.
On Wednesday, she arrived at the farm to find Bruce (the accountant) already meeting with Doug. Annoyed by his presence, especially as she had not been warned of his coming, she escaped to do her chores. But after half an hour, Doug came looking for her and asked her to listen to Bruce’s proposal.
The long and short of it was Bruce couldn’t tidy the accounts in the time she wanted. To avoid suspicion, he had arranged an overdraft on the farm account to pay for the top dressing account and had transferred $15,000 to their account. He promised to pay two more $15,000 instalments in the next two months. As for all the other issues, they needed to sort those out a little at a time, or the IRD would notice, which would have dire consequences for all of them. So, he wanted to retain the account for at least another six months, preferably a year.
Doug said he was happy with everything Bruce proposed but would only agree if Rhonda was on board. Doug took Rhonda aside and said he wanted to retain Bruce as he had known him for nearly forty years.
“Are you not concerned about Bruce having slept with Shirley? I’m furious about Harry.”
“You townies get all het up about that stuff. Out on the farm, we see sex every day and have no big issues with it. Hell, I’ve watched Mac willing to fight to the death for a bitch, but once he’s had her, he doesn’t give a dam if the other dogs have her. I’m a bit like that. Anyway, it seems that if I want vengeance on all the men that slept with Shirley, I might have my hands full.”
Rhonda reluctantly withdrew her objections, Bruce departed, and Doug returned to the shearing shed.
In the days after she kicked Harry out, Doug was the perfect gentleman, kind and understanding. Each day when she arrived, he hugged her and asked if she was alright. Nothing sexual, which she was thankful for. She told him about her plans to go shopping in Auckland and that her friend Marie was driving her. She offered that they would come and make the morning tea on the Friday before they departed. He told her not to bother as there was a good chance they’d have finished shearing late Thursday. But Rhonda insisted they would come anyway, as she wanted to say farewell to the gang as she’d gotten on so well with them.
She sensed that Doug knew she would be looking for a man to have revenge sex with. But he didn’t say anything, and on Thursday evening, he texted her and wished her a happy weekend. He added that they would finish the shearing by 10:00 the following day and be down at the house soon after. And so not to bother coming up to the shed, could she set up the morning tea in the stables instead?
Friday, Rhonda woke early, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a jersey, and packed a bag with her best outfits. Marie arrived in her husband’s Honda CR-V at 7:30. She explained she’d borrowed it so they had plenty of room for all the shopping they would be doing. She looked aghast at what Rhonda was wearing. “You surely are not going to Auckland dressed like that?”
Rhonda explained that that was what she wore every day at the farm.
“No wonder Doug has not asked to marry you yet. We’ll need to get you some decent things to wear.”
Rhonda found some overalls in the barn to cover Marie’s sporty outfit. They fed the chooks, and then Rhonda showed Marie around the garden and all the work she’d been doing. Afterwards, they went to the house, filled one of the tea urns, and whipped some cream. Marie helped her carry the portable hot plate over to the stables. They had decided to make the gang Pikelets with raspberry jam and cream.
Rhonda had not been in the stables before. She’d just stood at the door and watched Doug bringing Betty out for her to ride. The stables were larger than she had expected. Horseboxes down one side, all empty, and a small show ring covered in sawdust. A solid railing partly obscured tiered rows of benches on the opposite wall, where Doug had been throwing old saddles, damaged riding tack and other riding paraphernalia.
Rhonda and Marie set the morning tea out on two tables they found folded inside the door. Then, they climbed the steps, cleared some of the damaged tack off the front bench and sat to talk until the shearers arrived.
“I wonder why there are seats in here?” asked Marie.
“Doug said his father used to breed horses. This must be where they held the sales.
“Does Doug not breed horses anymore?”
“I don’t know. There are a lot of horses up by the shearing shed. So he may do.
They heard the shearers arriving a little after 10:00. Rhonda rushed over to the hotplate and tipped half a dozen small dollops of the pancake batter on it, and Marie got the butter, raspberry jam, and cream ready to spread on them. The next hour was hectic, the shearers’ appetites seemingly never-ending.
The goodbyes were emotional, even passionate, from a couple of them. Ronda heard the shearers telling Doug that no other station had ever been looked after them so well. The girls got on the road at 11:30, departing with most of the shearing gang.
They couldn’t check into the Langham until 2:00 pm, so they detoured to Huntly to check out the factory shops. They saw little of interest in the first few shops they entered, But that all changed in the Bendon Shop. Marie had Rhonda in the changing rooms with handfuls of lingerie, and they spent an hour there. Rhonda bought herself three sets of bras and knickers, all sexy, lacy and way different than she’d ever bought before. Marie purchased some items for herself and then insisted on buying Rhonda a sexy black set with a suspender belt—something Rhonda had only ever worn once before – at her wedding.
She tried to decline, but Marie insisted, telling her she was buying her a little black number for their dinner at Partington’s restaurant, and this lingerie set would go perfectly with it.
As it was only 1:00 when they arrived at the hotel, they found a cafe on K-road for lunch and then wandered through all the boutiques, looking for something to wear to dinner that night. Rhonda found a black dress that she liked, but Marie said it was far too conservative, and she had plans where to buy one the next day. They both bought outfits. Rhonda’s was way out of her comfort zone, but what the fuck!
They returned to the Langham at 5:30. Rhonda was amazed at the suite Marie had booked them. She imagined that even royalty would have been impressed. The bedroom sported two huge beds, and there was an equally large bathroom and a lounge area with rich sliders that opened onto a small balcony with views of the harbour. They changed into their new clothes and wandered across the road to the Number 5 restaurant. Rhonda knew Marie must have booked it days before, as it was full, and Marie had mentioned it was one of Auckland’s best restaurants.
They had a window seat, and even packed as the place was, it was quiet and respectful. The waiters moved silently on the thick carpet to take their orders. While they waited, Marie stuck her foot between Rhonda’s legs and tried to massage her clit with her big toe.
“Fuck, Marie, wait until we get back to the room, someone will see you.”
“I’m feeling horny. All that touching in the changing rooms and watching you strip has me buzzing.”
“Are we seeing Andrew tonight?”
“No, His conference finishes tomorrow. So I’ll text him our room number in the morning, and we’ll have dinner with them in our hotel.”
“Are they not staying in the Langham?”
“No, they are staying downtown somewhere. I think at the hotel where the conference is held.”
After dinner, they crossed back to the Langham and had a coffee and a Bailey’s at the house bar, before retiring to their room.
Rhonda sat on the bed, watching Marie twist her hair into a knot before showering.
“Come and join me. I’ll wash your back.” Marie yelled over her shoulder.
Rhonda hesitated. She fought the impulse to flee, still struggling with the woman-on-woman stuff. Her encounters with Marie had been fantastic, but she wouldn’t want her other friends and family to know what she’d done. Then she stood and removed her clothes, telling herself that the next night, she’d be sleeping with another man, maybe two. So what was she worried about?
They washed and teased each other in the shower, then giggled like teenagers as they dried each other off. Rhonda didn’t know which bed to go to. But Marie gently guided her to her bed, pushed her down on her back and started sucking her toes.
Once she had nibbled on each of them, she moved her way up Rhonda’s body, pausing briefly on all her erogenous zones before melding her body to Rhonda’s and kissing her on the lips. Her kiss was slow, tender and delicious. Marie rubbed her mound on hers. She eased away, took a breath, and then came back for more before pulling back again and moving down to give Rhonda’s breasts some attention.
Rhonda lay still, savouring the sensations as Marie stroked, kneaded and sucked on her breasts. She shuddered and wriggled as waves of sensual feelings coursed through her body.
When Marie had her on the verge of coming, she backed off,” Play with me. You can play with any bit of me you want to.”
Rhonda wanted release, but she sat up, rolled on her side and reached for Marie’s breasts.
“I want to kiss your breasts,” said Rhonda. Her mouth searched out one of Marie’s nipples.
“You can bite them. I like them bitten and pinched.”
Rhonda tried, but Marie told her to bite harder and make her squeal.
“Touch me, touch my pussy. Touch my… mm… oh, just like that.” She moaned as Rhonda’s fingers found her slit.
“God… I love having my nipples and pussy explored. “Don’t stop,” she breathed. Then she went quiet, shimmying her hips in small, slow circles as she worked herself to a climax.
As Marie began to come, Rhonda pulled back to watch.
“Don’t stop touching me. Don’t you dare stop,” cried Marie. “This is just the start, I can feel a massive one coming on.”
Rhonda felt the hunger growing in her core, and she dived down between Marie’s legs again and searched out her swollen clit. Marie was soaked. Rhonda eased her hand under her chin and slid two fingers past Marie’s soaked labia.
Marie made a soft, desperate noise and gripped a handful of Rhonda’s hair to pull her in hard. Her legs slowly spread, and her hips began to undulate.
“Oh god. I’m coming again.” Then she cried out as Rhonda began to frig her violently. Marie opened her legs wider, granting Rhoda more access. She was ready, and Rhonda could feel the heat of her core as she teased her fingers around her slit, then up to the small hood of her clitoris.
“Oh God, Rhonda. I’ve wanted this all day,” cried Marie.
Her entrance began to tense and release under Rhonda’s ministrations. Her thighs clamped and released in a slowly decreasing frequency until she screamed that she was coming. She collapsed back, her breathing laboured, eyes closed, and a self-satisfied smile distorting her face.
Rhonda had almost come herself when Marie climaxed. She rolled onto her back and searched for her clit, desperate for relief. But as she worked herself, she felt her wrist gripped and pulled away. Marie’s lips and tongue replaced her fingers. And moments later, she arched her back as her own orgasm hit.
They held each other tight and swapped kisses until they drifted off to sleep. Rhonda awoke to the sun pouring in through a gap in the curtains. Marie was up and about.
“Good, you’re awake. Pull on something comfortable, and let’s get breakfast. We have a busy day.”
Their first stop was at an expensive boutique in Newmarket. Marie had been in touch with the shop assistant and had a black dress hanging ready for Rhonda to try on. It was short and fitting. The neckline at the front plunged down near her naval.
“God, I can’t wear this. My breasts are exposed. I’ll look like a hooker.”
“Maybe,” replied Marie, “But a fucking expensive one. I can’t wait to see what effect you have on the guys in the restaurant tonight.”
She couldn’t wear a bra with the dress, but as she squeezed herself into it, she found it had cups that held her breasts tight. And just as well, as her nipples hardened and would have been visible otherwise. But it still exposed a good third of each breast, clearly defining their shape. The dress looked like it had been painted on. It hugged her hips so tightly. The split on the side would have exposed her knickers if they hadn’t been so brief.
Rhonda told Marie she would be mortified to wear something so revealing in public. She asked if they could buy something slightly more modest. Marie would not budge. She was adamant that was what she would wear and wouldn’t let Rhonda pay for it.
The shop assistant pointed them to a shoe shop several doors down, and there they bought a pair of black high heels and black sheer stockings. Again, Marie put her foot down and would not let Rhonda pay.
Their next stop was at a much more modest establishment, where Marie insisted she buy new clothes to wear at the farm. Half an hour later, they left with three denim skirts and some tops that Rhonda said she’d never dare wear. Marie relented and let Rhonda pay for her work clothes. After that, they hit a market and bought some handmade leather boots for the farm. Rhonda argued they were much too flashy. But the hippy salesman assured her they would be waterproof as long as she looked after them, and with that in mind, he threw in a tin of dubbin with the sale. And so he should, thought Rhonda, clutching two pairs of boots to her chest. One pair was black, the other tan, and they were both comfortable. The only thing they had bought all morning that she was comfortable with.
They had lunch at a small Brasserie before returning to the Langham to deposit their spoils. They spent the afternoon in the Spa, having facials, massages, pedicures, and the sauna. Marie had organised a hairdresser to attend to them both. He permed their hair. Rhonda’s into a mass of small curls that floated around her head. Marie’s into waves that bounced around just above her shoulders.
They returned to their room around 6:15 and lay on their beds talking. After half an hour, Marie hopped off the bed, saying they should get ready. But first, she unpacked their purchases and got Rhonda to try on the shortest of the denim skirts and the top.
“Maybe that does show a bit much cleavage for the farm. You’ll need to wear a tee shirt under the top.” Marie admitted.
Rhonda was pulling on the black boots when there was a knock on their door.
“Who is it?” Marie yelled.
“Andrew. We finished early.”
“We’re not ready. Go down to the bar and have a drink.”
“No. Let us in. We already had a drink at the conference closing and don’t need any more. We don’t care that you’re not ready.”
Marie moved towards the door. Rhonda exclaimed, “Shit, you can’t let them in with me dressed like this. I haven’t got a bra on.”
Marie just winked wickedly at her and opened the door.
The man that came through the door was not what Rhonda had expected. Marie had warned her Andrew was not pretty. He wasn’t. He sported a full beard, was solid and rough-looking, and had to be in his fifties. But the biggest shock was the two men following him through the door. Two! She’d prepared herself all week for sleeping with another man and vaguely knew that Andrew was likely to try and sleep with her also. But three men sharing her, that had not been in her reckoning. She looked to Marie, who also looked surprised. Her expression told Rhonda that at least Marie had not set her up.
One of the men she took to be Mark wore a leather jacket and tight jeans. The other was younger, maybe in his teens. He was tall and lean, with blond hair. Both the younger men were handsome – the younger one, especially so, his delicate features more attuned to a woman’s.
Rhonda became aware that Andrew was talking. She’d missed the start of his conversation, but she knew he was introducing the two men.
“……. And this is Jason, my sister’s best friend’s boy. He looks young, but he’s twenty-three and still a virgin. So treat him gently.”
Jason blushed crimson and looked at his feet. So Rhonda knew she had been correct in her assumption that the other guy was Mark. Unlike Jason, he was not at all shy. Naked lust was written all over his face. The look on Mark’s face was not what startled her, though. He was Māori. Rhonda didn’t think she had a racist bone in her body, but the thought of sleeping with a Māori stirred her appetite, and she felt her nipples harden. Dirty thoughts, born in the stories she had read about Black men with huge cocks flooded her brain.
Again, she was snapped back to reality as she heard Andrew comment that Marie had not lied when she said her friend was beautiful. And watched him grab Marie’s bum and steer her towards the bedroom, “Come, my little pussycat, I have six months of cream for you to lap up.”
Andrew stopped Marie at the bedroom door and lifted her dress to show the boys her petite round arse. Her thong was so brief it looked like she wasn’t wearing panties, and Rhonda had to squash a smile as she heard both boys exhale in appreciation.
She glanced back at the two guys as Andrew and Marie disappeared through the bedroom door. Mark’s face was awash with desire. He looked reluctant to move for a few heartbeats, weighing up how bold he should be. Rhonda had often seen this hesitation in men who were overawed by her looks and scared of rejection. She was about to say something to ease the tension, but his confidence returned as he realised she was not running for the door, and he made a grab for her crotch.
Rhonda grabbed his wrist and said, “Don’t grab me as if I’m a piece of meat. Show some decorum. I have lived with a man who thought a quick grope and a few endearing words were his ticket to paradise for over twenty years. A woman needs more than that. I want to be seduced, treated like a princess, enticed and coaxed into granting my favours. Come and sit on the couch with me.”
Rhonda sank onto the couch. Mark sat next to her and pulled her into his arms, giving her a long, sensual kiss. She felt Jason slump down on her other side, but he didn’t touch her.
Mark was still moving too fast, but he knew how to kiss. Soft and urgent, one hand was on the nape of her neck, drawing her in. She felt the other hand move down to her belly and inch further down. She held his wrist again, “Slow down, take your time.”
In between kisses, she asked questions and listened to him talk, not paying attention to his words, just attempting to diminish his ardour and savour the feeling of being held by a strange younger man.
“I bet you’ve got a beautiful Puku,” he murmured as his fingers began to inch down on her belly. Rhonda assumed he was referring to her stomach being fat. But as she opened her mouth, he asked her if she shaved her Puku and said he hoped she didn’t. She realised he was referring to her vagina.
She questioned him, “I have always thought Puku was Māori for stomach?” Rhonda whispered.
“So did I,” Mark replied. Well, at least until I was ten. Then I heard my mother telling my mad Scottish father her Puku was hungry one night, and his laugh told me she was not talking about her stomach. He was a big bastard, my father. Flaming red hair like yours. So I hope you have not shaved it.”
“I haven’t!” She replied.
“I had better take a look then,” and he slid off the couch onto his knees.
Rhonda gave up, trying to quell his impatience, and looked to Jason. He snapped his eyes down to his lap. Looking very embarrassed at being caught perving on her breasts. Her new risque top had flared open, and she knew he had probably been able to see almost all of her left tit. Her nipples swelled and hardened at the thought.
Rhonda reached out to Jason, cupped her hand behind his neck and drew him to her. “Kiss me. I don’t bite.”
Jason’s lips met hers, but he was stiff as a board. She released him a little and told him to relax.
“Pretend my mouth is full of strawberries and delicately attempt to extract some of the juiciest ones.”
She drew him in again. This time, his kiss was far more agreeable. She tried to concentrate and teach him to kiss. But when Mark pulled her panties aside and ran his fingers through her slit, she broke the kiss and let out an impulsive squeal.
The surge of arousal made her legs open. Mark moved his head down, attempting to get under her skirt. But it was too tight. He rose and undid the zip at the side. Rhonda lifted her hips without thinking, letting him slide the dress to her waist. He dived back and found the base of her clitoris with his tongue and slowly worked it erect. The liquid warmth that radiated out through her body was bringing on her first orgasm. Rhonda had never felt an orgasm building this fast before, not even with Marie. She could almost taste the sexual aroma that was emanating from her moist folds. Without thinking, she opened her legs and pushed down hard against Mark’s searching tongue.
Rhonda turned back to Jason. His eyes were glued to the gap in her flimsy top.
“You can touch them if you want.”
Jason looked too nervous to do anything, so she slid his hand under the blouse. It took him a minute to begin squeezing and kneading her craving globes. But once he started, it was only moments before he was using both hands on her throbbing mounds. Rhonda gasped at his touch, undid the buttons for him, and told him to kiss them.
Rhonda’s thought processing became disjointed as the two young men began to ply their trade on her most sensitive parts. But she was cognizant enough to notice the swelling in Jason’s pants. And the bulge looked abnormally large.
She did a double take as the bulge kept growing. She became aware of the sounds coming from the bedroom. Andrew was giving Marie a right old rogering. Maries cries were illegible, but her agitated whimpers had Rhonda squirming around on the couch.
The two young men’s ministrations were bringing her close. She reached down and tried to push Mark’s head away. She wanted him in her. She nodded like a crazy person when he rose and asked if she was ready for him to fuck her. Her response, “Yeeeeees”, was more of a breath than a word.
Mark rose, dropped his jeans and freed his erect rod. Her first disappointment of the evening was that he was not as large as her husband. The only other erect cock she had to compare it with. So much for the stories about all black men being hung like horses. Still, she, wanting him badly, leaned forward, brushed her fingers along his length and helped him guide it home.
He stopped at two inches, grinning as she thrust her hips, trying to get him to give her everything.
“What do you want,” he asked.
She gasped out, “Fuck me, you bastard. You know what I want.”
He took no notice of her language, slammed forward, and ground himself onto her pubic mound. The pressure on her clit was too much, and she exploded in a mind-blowing orgasm that had her hips jerking and her feet clamped behind his arse, drawing him in. A moment of remorse clouded her mind – she was being unfaithful, something she had sworn she would never do. But she shoved the thought aside. Harry was gone, and she didn’t need to feel guilty.
She lay still, savouring the ripples of pleasure that racked her body. But. Mark didn’t stop. He plunged into her without remorse. She unwrapped her feet and tried to push him away. But she could not reach down to stop him as Jason was in the way, and she realised his chewing on her nipples was producing incredible sensations in her breasts. She tensed her lower half, fighting against the sensitivity And was relieved when a tiny flicker of arousal returned to her groin.
A plethora of hair descended on her face, and lips searched out her own. It took her a second to realise who it was.
“You lucky little slut. The two of them doing you. I’m jealous,” Marie whispered in her ear.
Rhonda opened her eyes and focussed on Maria. “Oh god, I’m going to come again,” she exclaimed.
“Good. I’ll help,” Maria said, resumed the kiss, and moved her hand to the breast Jason was not mauling.
Within seconds, Rhonda’s body was consumed by a second orgasm. This time, her whole body became intensely sensitive. She twisted away from Marie’s kiss, pushed Jason off her tits and tried to wriggle away from Mark’s attack.
But Mark resisted, “Hold a second. I’m about to come.” And he gave three hard, quick strokes before collapsing on top of Rhonda.
Mark looked up at Andrew, who had been standing alongside them, stroking his cock hard. “That was so fucking good. She’s so tight. You told me she had had three children.”
Marie jumped up, “Look at the time. Out, out the three of you. Tell the restaurant we’ll be down as quickly as possible, then wait for us in the house bar. I promised them we would be on time when I booked.”
Marie ran around, pushing the three men towards the door. Not bothering about the fact she was naked and that two of them didn’t have their pants on. Rhonda lay, her legs spread apart, perched on the edge of the couch. She was a shivering, twitching mess. Mark must have emptied a bucket of his seed into her. As she watched Andrew trying to get his trousers buttoned over his swollen manhood, she realised that he was not that large either. Certainly no bigger than her Harry. That told her that Marie’s John must have a small prick, as Marie had bragged about Andrew’s size. Then, her thoughts shifted to the bulge she had seen in Jason’s pants. ‘I’m going to have first dibs at that later tonight,’ she thought.
With the men gone, Marie yelled to Rhonda to get moving: ” It’s quarter to eight; we are meant to be sat at our table no later than eight.”
Marie ducked into the bathroom. Rhonda felt too buggered to move. She closed her legs and savoured the sensations that were still coursing through her body. Finally, when she heard the shower stop, she pulled herself up and went to the mirror to check if she looked different. Her pussy looked puffy and used but not much different. Then she noticed a love bite under her right nipple. That gave her a moment of worry before she remembered she didn’t have to answer anyone. Harry was gone, out of the equation now. She took another look and grinned. It was a badge of honour reminding her of the intense pleasure she’d just experienced.
At that moment, Marie stepped out of the bathroom,” Wipe that silly smirk from your face and get moving. We’re fucking late.”
Twenty minutes later, they exited the lobby lift and walked over to the guys standing by the bar. Marie wore a white figure-hugging cocktail dress that highlighted her petite figure and olive skin. Rhonda towered a good four inches above her, wearing the black number they had bought that morning and her new 4″ high heels. Both women looked stunning, and every person in the bar stopped talking and stared at them. Rhonda wanted to hide. She clutched at her hem and tried to pull it nearer her knees.
“It’s about time,” Andrew added, “but maybe it’s worth it; you both look beautiful.”
They entered Partington’s, and the maitre d’ rushed to meet them. He said he needed to apologise as the table he had set aside as theirs had been taken. And the men next to the only table he had left were drunk and a bit loud.
He added, “I am waiting for one more couple who has been delayed, so you are not the last. “
As if on cue, a handsome blond couple hurried through the door.
“Ah, Mr and Mrs Jones, I assume,” stated the maitre d’. “Come, I will show you all to your seats.” He hesitated. “Your meals may be delayed, as most guests that ordered the degustation menu are about to be served their third course.” He hesitated again, then addressed the Jones. “The table beside you has some very loud men. They already have their main, so they will be gone soon. But we would like to offer you all a complimentary cocktail while you wait.”
As the group weaved past the other diners, the blond turned to Marie and introduced herself, “I’m Agneta, and this is my husband, Lars. We are from Sweden.”
Her English was excellent, with only a very slight accent. Lars ran his eyes over Marie, then turned his attention to Rhonda. She felt she was being undressed. His gaze at her cleavage was wantonly obvious. Mark stepped beside her and flung a possessive arm around her waist. She smiled inwardly at his jealous response.
Their table was at the far end, against the wall. The Scandinavian couple was seated on a smaller table diagonally out from them. Andrew knew the four men sitting against the wall next to them. They had been at his conference. The men had consumed much alcohol and were boisterous in their welcome to the three women.
One of the men leapt up, fell to his knee in front of Agneta, and, kissing her hand, offered to fight the dragon for his princess. Rhonda looked at Lars, expecting he would be annoyed. But he seemed amused and proud that his wife was attracting attention.
She had noted the Swedish couple’s clothes were very expensive, in stark contrast to the casual attire of the farmer kneeling before his wife. Very well-heeledled, Rhonda thought to herself.
The cocktail orders were taken, and Andrew guided Marie into the two chairs, backing onto the farmers so they could converse with them. Rhonda pushed Jason into the two opposite, happy she had a good view of the other diners. Mark took the remaining seat on the end of the table and spun around to talk with Agneta. However, the farmer was already turned and openly flirting with her.
Ronda heard Agneta explaining that their aircraft had been delayed from Taupo, which was why they were late. She explained that they had been skiing on Ruapehu for two days and that this night was the last of their two-week skiing holiday. Questions were being asked, and the farmers all joined in and commented when they found the couple had skied Coronet Peak, Tekapo, and Lake Ōhau fields the previous week, those ski fields being close to the farmers’ sheep stations.
Their cocktails and amuse bouche arrived—a ceviche spoon containing a tasty morsel. Mark and Jason complained about the size, saying it was not enough to feed a snail.
The maitre d’ returned with two bottles of Champagne that Andrew had ordered, and he directed the waiter to pour two glasses for the Swedes. The maitre d’ attempted to usher the farmer, who had taken an interest in Agneta, back to his seat. He again addressed them all, apologised for the delay, and said one of the chiefs was about to start their first course.
Max (The amorous farmer) jumped up as soon as the maitre d’ left and resumed his flirting. Rhonda saw Lars remove his shoe, and although his leg was hidden from view by the tablecloth, she knew by Agneta’s reaction he’d placed his foot between her legs. Max was unaware but was exclaiming the virtues of her breasts. Agneta was resisting Lars, and he snapped out a command in Swedish, and she resignedly opened her legs. Rhonda thought only she and Mark had noticed and was amazed at Lars’s actions. If it had been her Harry, Mac would have been flat on the floor with a bloody nose long ago.
Mark continued trying to join the conversation, and Rhonda noted with some amusement that Agneta was more interested in him than she was in Max. Agneta responded to one of their questions, saying she was good friends with the heir apparent to the Swedish throne. Mark replied that he was also related to royalty or the Kiingitanga movement, as it was known in Maori. And that his Maori name was Maaka.
“Oh, I like that name far better than Mark,” replied Agneta.
It was almost half an hour before the next course arrived. A crispy skin Rakia salmon with avocado and mango. Again a tiny portion that had Mark and Jason complaining. They had finished their cocktails and were well into their first glass of champagne when farmers finished their deserts. The waiter came by with their bill and hinted it was time for them to leave as the table was needed for some other guests. One of the farmers, talking with Andrew and Marie, tried ordering more coffee to continue ogling Maria and Rhonda. But his companions wanted to leave, and one got up to pay the bill.
Andrew asked Marie if he should ask the guys to go to their room later. Marie looked interested and turned to Rhonda, who was shaking her head emphatically. Andrew shrugged his shoulders, turned back to the men and began offering his goodbyes, promising to keep in touch with one of them.
Their next course arrived. A small square of pitch black Pāua covered in a flavoursome sauce and sprinkled with almond chips. Lars wondered what it was. Maaka told him he’d probably know it as white abalone and that some of his mates reckoned that a Maori had interfered with it centuries ago and turned it black.
When the laughter subsided, Maaka turned his chair around and began discussing food with Lars. Rhonda noted that although Maaka talked mostly with Lars, he flirted with Agneta whenever he got an opportunity.
When their next course arrived, the waiters offered to move Agneta and Lars’ table against theirs. Everyone agreed. Maaka resumed his seat at the head of the table. The move put Lars next to Marie, something he looked more than happy with. Agneta sat next to Rhonda.
The next course was toheroa soup, which everyone raved about. Again, Lars was interested in what it was. While Maaka explained to him about the large clams found on West Coast beaches, Agneta complimented Rhonda on her dress.
“It’s incredible. But I’d never dare wear something so revealing,” she whispered, then she apologised for Maaka’s flirting. “I am not encouraging him,” she vehemently exclaimed.
“He’s not my date,” said Rhonda. “I only met him two hours ago. So I’m not at all upset with his interest in you.’
Agneta’s puzzled expression made Rhonda explain her marriage, which was breaking up, and turn to Marie for advice. She explained her new job and all that had led up to this weekend away with the guy Marie had met online.
They found they had much in common. Agneta explained that hers had been an arranged marriage. She had been an eighteen-year-old virgin, very naive and inexperienced.
By the time the next course arrived, they were firm friends, admitting things about themselves that neither had opened up to anyone before.
Rhonda asked if Agneta thought Lars played around.
“If he has, I’ve never seen any sign of that, and he swears he hasn’t. He might be telling the truth as we move in a very elite social group back in Sweden. And any scandal attached to either of us would be devastating. You must realise that the surname we booked under is not our real name. We try to stay under the radar whenever we leave our home.”
The waiter arrived and told them there might be a longer wait for their next course, but after that, everything should be faster as the other diners would be finishing their meals. He poured them all another glass of champagne and emptied the second bottle. Lars sent him away to fetch some more. Agneta whispered she wanted to talk to Rhonda privately. So Rhonda stood and said that she and Agneta were off to the ladies’ room.
They walked through the tables to the front of Partington’s. The patrons fell silent as they passed each table, staring at the two immaculately dressed women. The house bar, just outside the restaurant, was almost empty, and they sat in the first cubicle. The barman caught their eye, but they waved to him that they didn’t want anything.
Agneta started talking, “Your friend, Maaka, keeps whispering naughty things in my ear. And Lars is encouraging him. He’s saying he’ll come to our room later. I’m embarrassed, but it has me surprisingly hot. I want to assure you I’m not leading him on and would never do anything like that.”
Rhonda touched Agneta’s arm, “I don’t mind. If you do go with him, I’d say good for you. I’ve wasted years of my life accepting average sex because I thought that was what good wives should do. And I should add, he’s a very good lover.”
“You’ve slept with him? But you said you have just met him.”
Rhonda explained that Andrew had turned up at their room early, and much to Marie and her surprise, he had Mark, I mean Maaka and Jason with him. The purpose of our weekend was for me to meet another man, revenge sex, to put it bluntly. It was much better than I expected. Maaka gave me two orgasms in the half hour before we came down for dinner. It was incredible. I hardly ever achieve one orgasm, let alone two.”
“Oooh, I still don’t think I’d have the courage. I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm. Certainly not anything like one reads about in silly romance stories. My name, Agneta, means sacred or chaste; that is how I was raised. I’d love to have the courage to do something indecent like that, though.”
“What does your husband think about this? I see him urging you on, and behind your back, he’s encouraging Mark. Also, I see him eyeing Marie, and I know she will welcome him.”
“Oh, he’s tried to get me to do many dirty things over the years, but I have mostly resisted. But on a ski trip in Canada two years ago, he tried to get me to sleep with another man. That time, I almost did.”
Ronda interrupted, “Why didn’t you?”
It was mainly because we were travelling with another couple, and the wife was a terrible gossip. She’d have loved me to have let my guard down so she could have stories to tell. Also, the man was not very nice, and I got my back up at Lars trying to force me.
“Well, I’m the last person to tell you to mess around. But you should try Maaka. I promise you you won’t be disappointed.”
Agneta went quiet, thinking about what Rhonda had said. Rhonda looked at her watch, “We had better be getting back. The next course should have arrived.”
They quickly used the toilet and then moved through the restaurant to their seats. Everyone had moved around. Maaka motioned Agneta to sit between him and Jason, where Rhonda had previously been sitting. And she saw that her glass had been filled up and was placed next to Lars. Agneta had downed her glass when they left for the toilet, but hers had been half full. It made her realise that the two glasses and the cocktail had given her a slight buzz, and she noted that Agneta was not absolutely sober either.
So it was with some concern that she watched Agneta knock back her third glass and begin talking animatedly with Maaka and Jason. Rhonda felt a twinge of concern. She wanted to take Jason’s cherry and had thought she would only to have to fight Marie for that. But Jason was looking very interested in Agneta and Agneta was showing far too much interest in him.
The others had finished their fourth course, a tiny portion of Salt and Pepper Squid with a tartar sauce. Rhonda hurriedly ate hers, seeing that the main course was coming.
Rhonda turned to Lars and questioned why he was pushing Agneta to sleep with Maaka. She suspected he wanted her out of the way so he could have his way with Marie. But Lars acknowledged her concern and quietly explained his reasons had little to do with sleeping with other women. He merely wanted to see Agneta getting fucked by another man. “The thought of that turns me on incredibly.”
Rhonda’s doubtful glance had Lars elaborating on his actions.
“Look, I believe Agneta was a virgin when we married, and I had only slept with four women, all of them prostitutes. When I first saw Agneta naked, I prematurely ejaculated, and not much has changed in the following years. I see the disappointment in her eyes every time we make love. I’d like her to have a different experience and enjoy sex. Then maybe we can work on me. If we don’t change, then our marriage will likely end in divorce.
Rhonda doubted that pushing his wife into sleeping with another man would do anything to save the marriage. But who was she to judge? Luckily, she saw a waiter pushing a trolley with the mains. It gave her time to mull over what Lars had told her.
It was a High Country Roast Lamb with Baby root vegetables and smoked paprika yoghurt. The waiters had the remains of the roast on a trolly and offered the men extra slices, which all but Lars greedily accepted. Once they ate, Rhonda asked Lars why he hadn’t gone to a marriage counsellor.
He whispered to her that he was too embarrassed to talk with a counsellor about his kinky desires. Agneta won’t have a bar of seeing someone else, either. I hope that if she has a good experience with another man, he will get Agneta off, and if it’s good, maybe she will want to try stuff with me.”
“Well, if you can get her to our room later, you’ll see kinky. Marie is into kinky stuff, and she tells me that Andrew is the best she’s ever had. And I can assure you Maaka is something special.”
Lars looked at her wistfully. “Agneta will never come to your room. I’ve tried before, and she won’t move.”
Rhonda knew she should stay out of their messy issues. But Agneta’s interest in Maaka and her own interest in what she may witness made her reply, “If you keep out of it and don’t try to push her, I’ll get her to come up with us. But you have to promise me you won’t get angry or jealous if the guys get her into the bedroom.”
Lars promised, and after they all finished their mains, at Rhonda’s insistence, they moved back to their original seats. Agneta was on her fourth glass of champagne, getting tipsy, and flirting with Maaka and Jason.
Rhonda held her hand over her glass when Andrew tried to top it up again, and she stopped Agneta from having a fifth, whispering in her ear, “You won’t enjoy the sex if you’re pissed,” She noted with satisfaction that Agneta didn’t bother to retort, ‘she couldn’t.’
The waiters appeared with the dessert trolley. There were three choices: Pavlova with Kiwi Fruit, Crème brûlée, and Chocolate Mousse. They also offered a scoop of ice cream or cream with their dessert. The men took two deserts each and large dollops of ice cream. The girls all had the Pavlova.
The final course was a cheese plate and coffee. Marie insisted that everyone have a Lebanese coffee, which was Turkish on the menu, but she insisted it was more Lebanese and argued with the waiter about that. It was served in tiny mugs and was black and strong.
Andrew and Lars went up to pay the bill and returned with some cigars to smoke in their room. Agneta looked to Rhonda and mouthed, “I can’t.” Rhonda moved beside her and put her arm around her shoulders, “Come and spend a little while with us. If you get overwhelmed, I will understand and look after you.”
As they walked to the lifts, they found that Lars and Agneta also stayed on the top floor in a penthouse suite. Lars left the lift, saying he would fetch some glasses and a bottle of liquor he wanted everyone to try. Agneta went to follow him, but Maaka pulled her to him and steered her left. “No trying to escape your fate, my angel. You’d be cranky with yourself tomorrow.”
They all lounged around while Rhonda and Marie got the coffee machine pumping. Lars returned with a bottle of Mandarin Napoleon Liqueur and some extra cups and glasses, then escaped onto the balcony with Andrew to light up their cigars. Maaka and Agneta joined them to look at the view, but both declined a cigar. When Marie took the tray of drinks out to them, Rhonda grabbed Jason’s and stopped him from following her. She led him into the bedroom and closed the door.
Stopping by her bed, she asked Jason to unzip her and help her out of the dress. He was nervous and all fingers and thumbs, but finally, stepping out of it, she was pleased to see the incredulous expression written all over his face. She spun around for him, showing off her semi-naked body. All she had on was her knickers, suspender belt and stockings. She had kicked her high heels off out in the lounge.
The old prim and proper Rhonda had vanished. She was nervous also but determined to have this young virgin. She dropped to the floor in front of him and pulled his trousers down. His boxers came with them, and an enormous bulging erection hit her under the chin. She had noticed a huge bulge in his pants earlier. But she wasn’t prepared for this. It had to be two inches longer than Harry’s and thicker than Andrews’s.
“Goodness!” She exclaimed. “That’s fucking enormous. I don’t know if I’ll be able to take that?”
“Sorry,” stuttered Jason. Trying to cover it with his hands.
Rhonda pushed his hands aside and studied it. It looked different, and it took her a second to realise that he was uncircumcised. She’d never seen an uncircumcised one before. Hell, she had only ever seen a couple of erect cocks. She took it in both hands and stroked it. A luscious, pearly pink helmet popped out. It looked so good that she bent forward and tried to get it in her mouth.
Jason groaned. Rhonda pulled back and asked if she’d hurt him.
“No! But if you do that, I’m going to cum.”
The thought of this sent a thrill of anticipation running through her body, and she enveloped as much of his shaft as she could get in her mouth and rolled her tongue around the knob. Instantly, his rigid flesh began to throb. Rhonda drew another inch into her mouth and sucked as hard as she could. Within seconds, he erupted, filling her mouth with a slightly bitter, salty mixture. She hesitated, wondering if she should swallow it. She’d given Harry a couple of blow jobs early on in their relationship but had never swallowed. That thought made up her mind. She gulped it down and drew back to see if there was more. And when the final spurt oozed out, she licked it up greedily.
Jason, ejaculating in her mouth, had turned her on massively. Rhonda craved relief. She’d almost climaxed when Jason had come. She urgently pushed him over to sit on the bed, then placed a foot up beside him and pushed her hips forward, offering her throbbing pussy. He hesitated, so she grabbed his hair and pulled his head in, “You have to reciprocate. I want relief also.”
He had no idea what he was doing, but that turned her on even more. She held onto his shoulders for balance and ground her hips around, getting the stimulation she needed. Her reward was a shuddering orgasm that shook the very roots of her being.
He wanted to keep going, but she was too sensitive and pulled away, flopping down on her back. Jason followed and dived in on her again. She tried to push him away, but he fought her, so she relented and pushed his head down from her clit and watched as he tried to stick his nose into her crease. Incredibly, Rhonda found she was still horny, and when she noticed he was still hard, she pulled him up on top of her.
Jason tried to thrust into her, but his knob missed and pressed against her virgin derrière.
“Not there,” Rhonda cried. “Here, let me help you.” And she wriggled her hand down and directed his hot bulging shaft up at her quim.
The pressure on her opening, as it tried to force entry, made her gasp. Then, with a flash of pain and pleasure, it popped past her resisting labia. She pushed back against his onslaught and was rewarded with another four or five inches. She let out a little squeal of delight, then closed her mouth, not wanting the others outside the bedroom to hear.
Jason started thrusting in a frenzy, and she had to slow him down as he was hitting her cervix and hurting her.
“We need to change positions. You’re hurting me. Let me try and sit up a bit and try to push your cock down, not straight in,” Rhonda whispered in his ear.
She propped her shoulders on the two pillows, and this time when he pushed against her, his cock slid down under her cervix and all the way in. She stopped breathing, dealing with the sensation of being stretched so wide. Rhonda grabbed his bum and told him to stay still for a moment while the muscles in her cunt stretched to accommodate him. It took a moment or two before the pain subsided enough for her to let him move again. Then, as the pain drifted away, she began to experience pleasure she’d never known before. The sensations were unbelievable. The pain, replaced by a turmoil of horny intensity, was driving her to another climax – her fourth of the evening. Rhonda couldn’t believe it.
As her excitement built, she heard the bedroom door open. Glancing at the door, she saw Maaka guiding Agneta into the room. Agneta tried to turn and leave when she saw Rhonda and Jason fucking on the bed. But Maaka pushed her ahead of him. She went to move to the other bed, but he guided her to Rhonda’s bed. Rhonda closed her eyes and knew they were watching her. That heightened her arousal, and she opened her legs to let Agneta see the huge cock she had managed to accommodate.
Moments later, as her orgasm was but a heartbeat away, Rhonda felt Agneta collapse beside her. She turned and smiled, “I’m about to come. Hold onto my hand.”
Rhonda gripped Agneta’s hand and drew it up to her breast, then looked her in the eye as she pushed onto Jason’s giant cock, taking it even deeper. The orgasm that hit was the best of the night. Quite probably the best she’d ever had. Her cunt was so stretched there must have been double the nerve endings getting stimulated.
Gasping for breath, she lay back and concentrated on what Maaka was doing to Agneta. He was between her legs, working on her very ripe peach, just as he had with her earlier. She took in Agneta’s creamy white complexion. Her skin was blemish-free, more like the skin of a teen than that of a woman in her thirties, even paler than her own porcelain skin. This woman had spent a lot of time in Spas and Beauty Salons.
Between the door and the bed, Maaka had removed her dress, but she was still wearing a light blue, very brief bra and thong. Maaka had the thong pulled to the side, and Agneta’s hips were beginning to move in unison with his thrusting tongue. Rhonda had watched her trying to fight him off minutes before. Rhonda decided to add to her pleasure by rolling on her side and taking one of Agneta’s nipples in her mouth. But this just opened her up to her younger suitor’s renewed attack on her rear.
Christ! She was far too tender for another session with Jason. Lightning bolts shot up her spine as he tried to press his bulbous head home.
“No! I can’t take you again just yet. Take my place and caress these gorgeous globes. I’m going to go and clean up.”
She rolled over Jason and sat on the edge of the bed. She stayed there watching just long enough to be sure Jason wasn’t being too rough, then stood and walked to the bathroom.
To be continued…
List of characters.
Rhonda Lawrence – a thirty-nine-year-old red head.
Harry – her husband of twenty years.
Their children – Michael, Gemma and Ian
Rhonda and Harry’s closest friends.
Mark & Ashley
Mason & Jean
Dylan & Janet
Marie – a new friend, married to – John.
Grayson – owns the Morrinsville bookshop.
Doug McKenzie – owns Sterling Sheep Station north of Te Aroha, at the foot of the Kaimai Ranges.
Shirley – Doug’s wife, who has recently eloped with another man.
Doug’s children – Michael, Lizzie and Susan.
Dougs farm workers – Liam and Nigel.
Bruce Norton – Doug’s Accountant.
Abby Marbray – old flame of Doug’s from his school days.
Avery Norman – the local Casanova, Abby’s husband.
Mac – Doug’s faithful companion. A mixture of Australian Cattle dog and German shepherd.
Eddie – owns the Supermarket in Te Aroha.
Andrew – Farmer from Gisborne. Marie met him online.
Mark – (Maori name Maaka.) Works for Andrew.
Jason – Andrew’s young nephew, has just begun working for Andrew.
