For all you naughty kids

Here where I live, people tell of an old hag, La Befana, that on the night between the fifth and the sixth of January rides her broom, bringing small gifts (such as candy, chocolate or small toys) to the kids that have been good, and coal to the kids that have been naughty.

It's a pagan, cheap and slightly scary version of Father Christmas, an old tradition that many still follow.
My granny used to give me chocolate, on behalf of La Befana.

And I know of course that you guys out there have been VERY naughty.

But on the other hand, I am not an old hag, I'm pretty hot in fact, and I actually like naughtiness.

A lot.
Couldn't live without it.
Riding broomsticks? Hmmm, sounds like fun. And who cares for coal anyway?

So here's a little gift for this night.

It's a short story called "Emily", and it is a direct sequel or spin-off of my last ebook, Make End$ Meet.

But you don't need to read Make End$ Meet to get this extra chapter.

Here it is, for all the naught kids out there.

Keep on doing the naughty things you love!

Emily

The woman at the door was strikingly sexy in a subdued, slightly aggressive way. Black dress, blue makeup matching her high-heels, her hair wet and brushed back like she had just emerged from a swimming pool. She leaned on the white door, her arm covered in colorful tattoos.
Emily straightened her back and cleared her voice.
“I’m looking for Claudette,” she said, and she felt foolish.
The woman arched an eyebrow, and Emily thought for a moment her face was familiar, but could not place her exactly. The woman stepped aside and invited her to come in.
Emily walked into the hall.
“You don’t have an appointment.”
It was not a question.
“An appointment? No. I didn’t— I mean—”
The woman was so cool and in control that Emily felt her nervousness grow.
“It is all right. She will be busy for another half hour, but you can wait in our parlor.”
Emily let herself be shown into a small, nicely furnished room, and sat stiffly on the white leather couch.
“A drink?” the woman with the blue lips asked.
“What? No, thank you.”
Another smile. “You are free to smoke, if you like.”
Emily glanced again at the woman. Where had she seen her?
Nervously, she clicked her bag open and pulled out a pack of Chesterfields.
As she placed the filter between her lips, the woman clicked her lighter in front of her face. Gold. Heavy. The woman had long electric blue fingernails.
“I will send Claudette to you as soon as she is free.”
And she was gone.
Emily sat on the couch, smoking. She felt drab and inadequate in her charcoal suit and ivory blouse, a pale brown-haired shadow compared to the striking black and blue vision that had seen her in.
She heard the distant sound of laughter.
Voices.
The front door opening and closing.
What place was this?
The answer scared and excited her. In silence, she smoked her cigarette.

#

It was a long half an hour, three butts squashed in the crystal ashtray, when finally the door clicked open and in came Claudette, in the company of the black and blue woman.
Emily gasped.
Impossibly tall on a pair of killer stilettos, Claudette was wearing high white silk stockings and a set of white lace lingerie that contrasted starkly with her tanned, toned skin. Her red hair fell in a disheveled cascade over the woman’s shoulders, in what could only be described as the perfect pillow head. A thick string of pearls was wrapped around her wrist, adding a further touch of decadence to her looks.
Claudette smiled, her lips scarlet and perfectly designed, as Emily stood.
The redhead turned and nodded at the woman in black, that stepped back but did not leave.
“Claudette,” Emily whispered.
“What are you doing in this place?” the redhead asked.
Her question taken away from her, Emily felt her head spin, and babbled something., Realizing she was babbling only made her more nervous. She felt her cheeks burn as blood rushed up her neck and to her face.
She glanced at the woman in black.
Was that a smirk on her blue lips.
The door bell chimed.
“Let’s go somewhere private,” Claudette said. “Come.”
Like in a dream, Emily followed her.Past the woman in black and blue and along the corridor, to a small couch on which a dark-skinned woman in a short black dress was smoking a cigarette, and up a flight of stairs, into a room.
The door closing behind her thundered in her ears like the crack of doom.

#

Claudette’s room was a temple built in white to unconstrained sexuality. Everything, from the unmade bed to the white curtains to the thick carpeting, the piled pillows smeared with makeup and the obscene paintings on the walls, made it clear to anyone with eyes that this was a place devoted to sensual pleasures. The only color was the red silk scarves tied to the bedposts.
Unwittingly squeezing her thighs together, Emily looked up at the mirror hanging over the bed, and then down at Claudette, that now sat on her bed, and was lighting a long white cigarette.
“What does this mean?” she blurted.

Claudette chuckled, and took a long, cheek-hollowing drag on her cigarette. Her eyelids fluttered as the smoke descended into her lungs.
“What do you think?” she replied.
Emily took a long breath. Embarrassment and disorientation were being replaced by rage, and outrage.
This woman sitting in front of her, her lips working expertly the cigarette, had been the only friend she had for a very long time. The only confidant. The only person knowing of her frustration, of her disgust at her husband. The only one to share her compromises, her hard decisions, her pain.
Her only lover.
And now.
“You are a prostitute!”
Claudette chuckled and leaned back, propping herself up on the mattress. “It sounds so clinical,” she said.
“How—?”
Claudette smirked. “We should have been more discreet.”
They had been caught. Edward had come home from the National Orthodontics Conference, and found his red-headed nurse with her face buried between his wife’s legs, both women panting with passion in the doctor’s big bed.
Claudette had been fired.
“I could have—” Emily said, and stopped herself.
“Paid for me?” Claudette grinned. She shook her big mane of red curls. “Would that have made me less of a whore? A kept woman?”
“You know I wouldn’t—”
“Require sexual services in exchange for food and lodging?”
Emily felt like she had been slapped in the face. She drew in a sharp breath, tasting Claudette’s smoke.
“You have changed,” she said.
“For the better.”
Emily shook her head, trying to awake from this nightmare. “It would never be like that,” she said. “I love you.”
Claudette leered. “Sure. You love the taste of my mouth, and the way I ran my hands up and down your body. You love the way I make you feel alive as I push deep inside you with my tongue, the way I bite your labia. You love to kiss and suck my nipples, you love the way we rub against each other after we come.”
She stood. “I still do all that. Only, you have to pay now.”
“This is wrong,” she said. “This is immoral.”
Claudette’s eyes flared. “Immoral?”
The redhead took a step towards her former lover. “Immoral?” she asked again. She blew a big cloud of smoke in Emily’s face. “You want to know what is immoral?”
She took another step forward. “Immoral is seven bucks per hour, working for a pig that only wants to squeeze my tits and grope your ass.”
“I—”
Claudette took another step forward.
“Immoral is having to smile and joke as he fondles you because you don’t want to lose your job. Immoral is being treated like apiece of meat in front of leering patients, as you strut about in a white uniform so short it doesn’t cover your twat, and so tight you can’t breath or your boobs will spill out.”
“But—”
“Immoral is fucking your boss’s trophy wife senseless, because you both want revenge on the bastard.”
Emily gasped, and stared Claudette for a long second.
Then she slapped her face, hard.
She was panting.
Claudette laughed. “You liked that?”
She was now standing very close. Emily could smell the tobacco on her breath and the vanilla and cinnamon on her skin. She was standing against the door now, breathing fast.
Claudette’s breasts, wrapped in the flimsy white lace, were almost pushing against her face.
She started fumbling with her bag.
“How much?” she breathed.
Claudette grinned and leaned closer, pushing her red-hot tongue in Emily’s mouth.
“For you,” she whispered in her hear after releasing her, “one hundred.”
Like in dream, Emily pushed a wad of banknotes in Claudette’s cleavage. “Let’s do it,” she said.

#

Claudette picked her up bodily and threw her on the big bed. Emily giggled and started undoing the buttons of her jacket. Claudette pushed her hands inside her blouse, grasping her tits.
“Did you miss this?” she purred.
Emily nodded. She undid her skirt, and tried to wiggle out of it. Claudette released her boobs and helped her. She stood back, contemplating Emily’s black stockings and black panties. Then with an evil grin she slipped two finger under the band and ripped the panties off.
“You won’t need these anymore,” she said, and went down on her knees.
Emily arched her back against the hard mattress as Claudette kissed the inside of her thighs, slowly climbing up to her shaved pussy. She stopped caressing her own breasts and pushed her fingers in the redhead’s hair, pulling her closer, eagerly. She felt the breath of her lover on her sensitive skin, and then the first gentle nibble.
“Yes!”
Claudette ran the tip of her tongue along Emily’s cunt, relishing the sense of power. Then, teasingly, she drew back.
Emily sat up, rocking her hips. “C’mon!” she grunted.
Claudette smirked. “Time is money, right?”
Emily grinned back, feeling her head spin, light as a feather. “I paid you, whore, now you’re gonna do your job!”
Claudette kissed again the white skin just above the hem of the stocking. “That’s the spirit, honey!”
She grasped Emily’s hips, and plunged down inside her, tonguing her to delirium.

#

Emily tied Claudette to the bedposts. Softly. She knew the restraints would not need to be too tight.
“What are you going to do, now?” Claudette asked, feigning panic.
Emily threw back her head and took a long pull from her cigarette. “Anything I want,” she replied. “I paid for you, right?”
She took the cigarette between thumb and forefinger and slowly put it close to Claudette’s nipple.
“I could burn you,” she said. “Make you scream in pain until you come.”
Claudette squinted at her. “You cannot damage the goods,” she said.
Emily shrugged, and would not move the cigarette. “I am the wife of a well to do professional. I can afford to pay for what I break.” Her eyes sparkled. “Or burn.”
Claudette grinned. “So you fuck for money too, uh?”
Emily gave her an evil grin. “You will pay for your insolence, slut!”
Claudette screamed as the red-hot tip of the cigarette brushed her nipple.
Then Emily was licking and sucking it, as she rubbed her naked cunt against the redhead’s.

#

Emily was busy pumping two fingers into Claudette’s twat when she heard the door open and close. She let go of the redhead’s tongue and turned, without stopping her deep massage.
A young woman with long straight black hair stood on the door. She was made up as the perfect Goth princess, a purple fringe framing her pale face, her cruelly arched eyebrows, her purple eyes.
In black lingerie and a negligee, a silver brooch on her slender neck, she did look familiar.
“Do you remember Audrey?” Claudette asked.
Emily did a double take as she realized the newcomer was indeed her husband’s former part-time secretary.
She was about to say something but Audrey stepped up and climbed on the bed, placing herself right behind her.
“I just wanted to say hello,” Audrey grinned.
Emily caught just a glimpse of the huge black strap-on the brunette was wearing. Then Audrey shoved her against Claudette, and with a single stroke entered her from behind.
Her face buried in Claudette’s tits, Emily continued pumping in the redhead’s twat, while Audrey fucked her doggy style, sending long vibrant jolts of pleasure up her belly, making her nipples hard.
She came with a gasp, just as Claudette’s juices flooded her busy hand.
Leaning on Emily’s bare back, her nail-like nipples rubbing against her skin, Audrey stretched a hand and released Claudette from her bonds. The redhead grinned and grabbed Emily’s ass, pulling her up and searching for her mouth with hers. Emily protested as the movement caused the dildo to slip out of her cunt, but Audrey seconded her movement, and was soon fucking her again from behind.
Emily felt her mouth dissolve in Claudette’s as another orgasm rocked her. Her legs trembling, her knees let go and the three women fell into a pile of sweaty bodies, laughing and gasping and screeching.
Audrey grabbed a handful of Emily’s brown hair and pulled her head back.
“Now I’ll fuck you in the ass,” she announced. “But first we do some coke.”

#

Cocaine dissolved what little was left of Emily’s conscience. With a gleeful screech, she placed herself between Claudette’s legs and started working her twat with her tongue, all the while holding her ass up for Audrey.
“In the ass!” she gasped, holding her head up for a moment.
Audrey offered a spoonful of white dust to Claudette, that snorted it with a glutton’s grin. Then the brunette placed the tip of the strap on against the crack of Emily’s butt.
“Ready?” she asked.
Breathing hard like a deep sea diver, Emily turned her head and stared at Audrey with feverish eyes. “Do me!” she screamed.
The cruel eyebrows arched beneath the purple fringe. “This will cost you extra.”
“Is there a discount for virgins?” Emily asked drunkenly.
Audrey was caressing Emily’s nape with her right hand, and squeezing her own left tit with her left. “C’mon,” she said urgently. “We don’t have all day.”
“Virgin ass, uh?”
Audrey pushed inside Emily with a single massive shove.
Emily’s face contorted in pain and her groan turned into a sigh as pleasure flooded her, blue fire dancing inside her in a storm of snow white powder. With a satisfied grunt, she went back to work on Claudette’s cunt.

#

The three women cuddled together and shared a cigarette.
Emily lay sandwiched between Audrey on the left and Claudette on the right. She was embracing them both, fondling their breasts. Audrey put the cigarette to her lips, delicately, and Emily sucked a lungful of smoke.
Claudette was gently massaging her belly.
“Shit, girls!” Emily blurted, expelling the smoke. “These have been the best-spent five hundred in my life.”
She turned and kissed Claudette’s burned nipple.
“You are going to make me go broke,” she sighed.
The two hookers traded a glance.
“You could be paid instead of paying,” Claudette said.
Emily giggled. “Are you offering me a job?”
“It’s fun,” Audrey said, sucking on the cigarette.
“The money is good,” Claudette added.
“Very good,” Audrey nodded, passing the cigarette to the redhead.
“And we get lots of perks,” Claudette said.
“Like the coke,” Audrey whispered in Emily’s ear.
“And we fuck among ourselves whenever we feel like,” Claudette concluded, snorting smoke through her nostrils.
“Which is often,” Audrey whispered, biting Emily’s earlobe.
Emily sighed. The idea of working as a whore for the cold, sexy woman in black and blue sent a jolt through her clit.
“I’ve still got two hundred bucks, I think,” she said. “Show me what you can do for that money, and then tell me more about your proposal.”