Chapter Three.

The 43 Club.

London, 1923.

It was the dawn of a new era. The time of Flappers, cocktails, frivolity, and the Charleston.

In the 1920s, London's toes were tapping to the new sound of jazz. Everybody wanted to dance, nobody wanted to sleep, and nightclubs were mushrooming around the city's West End. Deep in the heart of Soho, at 43 Gerrard Street, was a small, intimate nightspot known simply as the '43'. Its proprietor, a neat little woman with charming manners, ran a string of other clubs besides. The Silver Slipper in Regent Street and the Manhattan in Denman Street, while her eldest daughter oversaw the Little Club in Golden Square as well as the Riviera in Maidenhead. Little wonder Kate 'Ma' Meyrick was known as the Queen of Nightclubs.

Statesmen and stage stars, peers and princes, millionaires and movie moguls, not to mention a fair share of rakes and rascals, all came to the '43' to soak up Soho's bohemian atmosphere, foxtrot with the club's pretty dance hostesses, hear Teddy Brown's band, and quaff champagne into the small hours. A change in the Licensing Act stated that drinks could be served until 12.30 a.m. if accompanied by food. Despite being a tiny wisp of a woman, Ma kept her eye on guests as they entered her 80-capacity venue to refuse entry to anyone whom she found suspicious.

It was this illegal late-night tippling that gained Mrs. Meyrick notoriety as well as fame. The Home Secretary William Joynson-Hicks was waging a moral crusade against nightclubs. Police raids aiming to catch those flouting licensing laws were not uncommon at the '43', and the resulting prosecutions necessitated the closure and reopening of clubs under new names. The '43' immediately attracted an array of celebrity customers from the artistic Café Royal crowd to European royalty. Prince Christopher of Greece, Joseph Conrad, Prince Carol of Romania, celebrated jockey Steve Donoghue, 'Loughie', Lord Loughborough, and the dukes of Manchester, Leeds, and Norfolk. Millionaire Jimmy White arrived one evening with six Daimlers in his wake, the cars disgorging twenty-five chorus girls and White supplying the club's patrons with champagne all evening to the tune of 400 pounds sterling. Once carrying a tray of cocktails back from the bar, Rudolph Valentino was mistaken for a waiter. Prince Nicholas of Romania and Tallulah Bankhead once danced with such enthusiasm they cracked a pane.

x

Agatha Crowley fit the stereotype of the 20s flapper to a T, chasing a lifestyle that would have been unthinkable just twenty years before. She drank alcohol, smoked cigarettes, and dabbled in bohemianism. She cut her hair short, wore dresses that showed off her fashionably slender figure, used daring slang, and dated multiple men whilst single. Standing at five feet seven inches tall, her long legs went all the way up to her bum where they got cheeky. She had superb 32D breasts, with wide hips separated by a thin waist. Her big eyes were hazel and her short-cut hair was a reddish-blonde. Because of her colouring, her skin was pale but unblemished.

For this special occasion, Agatha had gone for a real siren look. Her bold red dress captured the deco style superbly giving her a truly elegant look. The dress features a soft red tulle overlay with a delicate pattern of shimmering red sequins and scrawls of beads around the entire dress. There was a layer of red tassels around the hem which came down to knee height. Her long red gloves and headpiece were the perfect accessories to complement her daring look. Wrapped tightly around her head it had rhinestones set in a silver-toned feather motif with a large crystal centre embellished by tiny faux ivory pearls.

Dressed in a black tuxedo and bowtie, her escort was Major Timothy Trent, who had seen active service in the Great War with the East Surrey Regiment. Born in 1883, he was a widower and retired. And smitten something rotten with the amorous crime writer. On the day in question, he'd succeeded in bringing Agatha to a screaming climax in the big soft bed in her flat. Their lovemaking had been most energetic, and the virile chap had yet again shown the thirty-three-year-old redhead his prowess in bed.

"Sounds like quite the party," observed the Major as they walked along the pavement outside of the club.

The lively music could already be heard outside as they approached the front entrance. They had arrived at the club at a fashionable late hour, and once inside they surveyed the bustling scene. Jazz music blared out in the crowded room played by five besuited musicians on a low stage. Numerous guests milled around in pairs and groups under a huge twinkling chandelier that hung down in the middle of the room. Waiters busied themselves serving champagne as colourful streamers and party balloons flew about. Agatha looked around and noted several closed doors leading off from the main room, each seemingly guarded by some flunkies.

"What are you drinking?"

The Major was no stranger to wealth and grandeur. He had a fine house and belonged to a Gentleman's exclusive club.

"I'll have a horse's neck."

As the Major went to fetch drinks, Agatha felt a presence behind her and turned to face Ma Meyrick herself. She smiled and nodded to Agatha, a glass of champagne in one hand and a smoke in the other.

"Good evening, my dear. And welcome to the club."

Kate was a picture of pure elegance in a long black and gold dress that reached the floor. The gold sequins encased by silver beads shimmered under the chandelier above. She wore a black headband with an arrangement of black gems and beads that also included an attached large black feather.

"How do you do? So glad you were able to come."

"Yes, thank you. It's a super place."

"You're too kind. Agatha, I've heard so much about you. And I love your stories. So clever. The bad man always gets his comeuppance in the end. Ah, here's the Major."

"Your club is magnificent. You really know how to throw a party."

"Thank you. What a couple you two make, I must say. And look. Here's Coco."

Agatha and her escort turned to see a black envelope heading their way.

"My dears. This is Coco Chanel, fresh from Gay Paree. This is Agatha Crowley, my dear. Our famed crime author."

The superior-looking fashion designer inhaled a lungful of smoke and idly flicked ash from her thin cigarette holder. Apart from a single string of pearls, the slim brunette was dressed all in black. She looked snazzy and sophisticated and she knew it.

"Before me, no one would 'ave dared to dress in black. A black so deep, so noble that once seen, it stays in the memory forever."

"Indeed," agreed Crowley as she looked the slender Frenchwoman up and down.

Her little black dress was really a chemise with long sleeves made of Crêpe de Chine with delicate pleats in a V-shape on the slightly bloused top and skirt. Long black gloves, black shoes, and a black turban completed the look. She reeked of her famed Number Five perfume as she curled her upper lip.

"It was een '20 as I recall, when I contemplated the auditorium at the Opera from the back of a box. All those reds, those greens, those electric blues made me feel ill. These colours. Ugh! C'est impossible. These women I vowed, weel bloody well dress in black if I 'ave my way."

"Oh, I so agree, Mademoiselle Coco. And this must be Igor."

"Igor Fyodorovich Stravinsky, at your service."

The Russian-born composer bowed at the waist in front of Ma Meyrick and Agatha. He appeared rather bored behind small-rimmed spectacles and his thin moustache seemed a bad idea.

"It was Misia Sert who introduced us in Paris in May of '20. I agreed to underwrite the revival of Rite of Spring with a new choreography by Léonide Massine."

Coco looked about the crowded room with disinterest and sucked in her smoke.

"We've been lovers ever since. I 'ave a thing for White Russians. Shall we see you both in the Green Room?"

Stravinsky gave them a wry smile as the odd couple tottered off. Agatha raised a quizzical brow and turned to Meyrick.

"Green Room, Ma?"

The hostess put her index finger to her red lips and winked.

"It's just one of my special playrooms for after-hours fun. If you're good, I may let you in."

"Dah-ling! A mah-velous party! See you in the Green Room?"

Ma waved to what seemed to be a tornado pass by in bright blue chiffon.

"That's Tallulah Bankhead from Hollywood! I hear she's in London to appear onstage with Du Maurier."

Tallulah was just as much a personality as an actress. She had energy, and beauty, with blue eyes, a voluptuous mouth, honey-coloured hair that fell in waves to her shoulder, and sad-looking eyes. Women copied her fashions, affected her manner, and even imitated her husky voice.

"Gosh. Who's that?"

Agatha nodded in the direction of a chap in his mid-twenties with two attractive females by his side.

"That, my darling is Alec Waugh. He writes as well. He's single, and much sought after. But he's so reserved."

"And his dates?"

The one on his right was wearing a white shimmering dress, with gold beads decorating the bodice and gold body glitter across her very noticeable cleavage in the plunging neckline. Her gold headband made her already longish face seem even longer, and her peachy lipstick plumped up her thinnish lips.

"That's Babe Plunket. She is the granddaughter of the Earl of Kellie. And the other is Elizabeth Ponsonby. The daughter of Arthur Ponsonby, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. They are cousins. They're here all the time. Both are prominent members of the so-called Bright Young Things. Well-connected socialites who are out for a good time, all the time. All of the members are very wealthy people, and they are happy to have their private lives in the spotlight. To be part of this society, you must know all of the society leaders, you need to be rich, and connected to their businesses and their normal lives. Bless them and their fat wallets! Do excuse me."

Ma wandered off in the direction of the low stage.

"Enjoying yourself, darling?" asked Timothy.

"So far. Seems just like most other parties though."

"Hang on."

"Ladies and gentlemen. I wish to announce a special guest. Someone very exciting has agreed to perform for us tonight. It gives me great pleasure to introduce one of the most unique and sexiest performers I've ever seen. She's only nineteen and has just arrived from America in recent weeks. Give it up for Josephine Baker from Paree!"

"Ruddy Nora, cupcake! That girl is stark bollock naked!"

The band began to play the Charleston as the vivacious exotic dancer bounced onto the stage by the musicians. All eyes were on the black-skinned girl with the beaming smile and slicked-back hair. Despite the Major's exclamation, Baker did have a form of costume on. Although topless she had a low-slung belt around her trim waist with sixteen rubber bananas hanging from it. Along with her matching pearl necklaces and jewels, the risqué outfit Baker brilliantly manipulated the entire audience. She crossed her eyes, waved her arms, swayed her hips, poked out her backside, and easily seduced one and all. The skirt's phallic appendages presented Baker as a sex object, highlighting her audacious prancing, and desirable semi-naked body.

"I've never seen anything like it. So raw. So primitive."

Agatha nodded in agreement with her date. The feisty woman welcomed the age of free love and embraced the concept of lovemaking without formal ties or marriage, with men or women. And the almond-eyed dancer quite turned Crowley's head. The room crackled with sexual tension. Guests drank, canoodled, and eventually started kissing, moving from one to another. What had started as a wild bohemian party was now something racier. What with the heady drink and all the gaiety, the amorous redhead felt terribly horny.

"Timothy. Let's go somewhere quieter. Please?" she whispered, with a hint of desperation in her educated voice.

The Major nodded and noted one of the rooms had been left unattended as the besuited flunky became absorbed with ogling Baker's bouncing boobs. They slinked off to the closed door and both glanced back at the merriment before he led her into the room, As they adjusted their eyes to the dim interior, the sounds of the party faded as he closed the door. Without further ado the Major pushed Agatha back into the wall, forcing his mouth over hers. She held the back of his neck in her gloved hands as they French kissed, eagerly pushing her tongue between his lips.

The back of her dress was cut low and Timothy's hands came up behind her so that he could caress her shoulder blades. Agatha's lips trembled as her mouth devoured his so that she tasted his smoky breath. She clung to him tightly as the wetness of his lips on hers acted like a drug and left her floating. He pulled her slender body to his pressing his chest against her bosom. is, her hands diving into his hair. Her fingers gripped the soft waves, holding him to her. Her soft mouth melted under his, and her sighs of delight transferred to his.

"Remove them," she uttered as he expertly lifted the hem of her dress to tug her undergarments down her thighs.

"These legs are divine," he purred as he grabbed her thighs and kneaded the soft flesh in both hands.

He moved closer still and beneath his trousers she felt his erection all pushy and stiff against her loins. The Major slipped inside her low-cut neckline and grabbed her left breast. Agatha felt a warm flush course through her and she could feel a wetness between her thighs as a result. She crushed her body to his, relishing his hard cock hard against her front.

Now, he felt the rounded firmness of her bare nether cheeks, and his busy fingers stroked the hot moistness of her heated sex. A wave of sweet torment rippled through the aroused redhead as he probed her slippery labia. Agatha went weak in the knees as she stepped out of her discarded bloomers.

"Heavens! So nice."

He slipped a third finger inside her, while he massaged her clitoris with his thumb. She dug her fingers into his arms as he frantically frigged her on the spot. As he sawed his hand on and out, Agatha managed to unbutton his fly, exploring the insides of his tumescent organ. They moved in tandem. both masturbating the other. She tossed her head back as spasmodic twitches in her loins signalled her release. She held onto his iron-hard shaft as he fingered her more vigorously. It was almost too much to bear but before either of them reached a climax, a husky voice came from the other side of the room.

"It's customary for those in the Green Room to be without any clothes on."

Agatha and the Major looked up in surprise at the sound of the husky female voice as they both realised that they were not alone in the dark room. As they quickly adjusted their clothing their eyes began to adjust to the light of hundreds of candles that now cast better light. The room was considerably larger than they first thought, huddled close together in the shadow of the door where they had entered.

Two naked figures were sprawled in the middle of an oversized bed. One was Tallulah, gloriously naked with her right leg bent at the knee to display her ginger bush. Propped up by several pillows, the other person looked up without a word. His lean hard body was pale and showed no colour. His dark hair was swept back from his face giving him an almost vulnerable look with those sad mournful eyes and highly kissable lips.

In the hand of the wanton actress was his upright dick. Straight as a policeman's truncheon with a fat purplish helmet that shone with the spit of the smiling hussy. His circumcised shaft appeared darker than the rest of him, with a livid network of engorged veins along the considerable length. And his testicles resembled two ripe plums. Dark, juicy, and extremely large.

"I don't believe it," cried Crowley with wide-staring eyes. "It's really him! The Sheik himself. Rudolph Valentino!"

"Are you here to partake of the flesh? Or are you a pair of voyeurs? The Green Room is not for the half-hearted. Either you join in or stay the hell away. This is no holiday."

Bankhead spoke in between taking gulps of the renowned Italian Stallion's big dick.

"I invited them. They may choose to join in or leave."

Ma Meyrick exhaled blue smoke as she viewed proceedings from a plush armchair. Agatha screwed her eyes as she made out the figure in the continuous flickering candlelight. Now, the crime writer looked around to see two other beds. Both are occupied by several naked men and women. On one, Coco Chanel was fucking Stravinsky in the asshole with a strap-on dildo that was attached to her waist by a black belt. She made sweeping strokes up from behind the successful composer, driving the fake cock deep inside his lubed-up anal passage. He still had his spectacles on with the curious addition of a baby's dummy in his drooling mouth! What a colossal pervert!

"Mama! Mama! Fuck my sorry bottom, Mama!" he sobbed in fake anguish.

The Major shook his head as he watched Babe Plunket being fucked by Alec Waugh doggy style as Elizabeth Ponsonby lay beneath them. Her face was level with his ball sack which she slathered with her tongue, and her cunt was duly licked out by the moaning Plunket whose face was buried in her snatch. Agatha and her escort looked at each other and shrugged.

"Well I'm game if you are," said Timothy as he she his jacket and began to loosen his bowtie."

"No, no, no," said Tallulah in her honeyed voice. "If you mean to stay, you must take other partners. No sense in making out together. Where's the sport in that?"

"True indeed. Agatha, my dear. We have a choice of concubines gathered for our female guests. Why don't you take one?"

Ma clapped her hands and from the shadows came three tall fellows in black eye masks and naught else. The astonished redhead looked at all three as they lined up side by side. The first was a fair-haired chap over six feet in height who sported large biceps and muscular buttocks. He had a rigid erection that swayed and bobbed in front of him.
Another with dark brown hair stood beside him with a firmed-up frame and a boner that looked capable of boring holes through walls. He was perfection and he knew it. The last one was a black-skinned African who stood with his hands on his narrow hips. He exuded a raw masculinity and his ebony cock looked to be nine inches in length, as thick as her wrist with a flared glans that already shone with his pre-cum.

On closer scrutiny, Agatha saw that their bodies showed no hair whatsoever and that they were liberally coated in body oil that had notes of amber and rum with a light top note of musk and bay. Their ripped bodies glistened with a radiant glow. Her doe-like eyes roved over each bare body appraisingly and were thrilled by the enticements of their masculinity. She noted the way their broad chests rose and fell with every breath and the superb flatness of their abdomens. But especially, of course, the throbbing shapes of all three generously sized erections.

"Either strip off and pick one or leave," repeated their hostess Ma Meyrick.

Taking a deep breath, Agatha pulled her dress over her head and kicked off her shoes and gloves. She had already discarded her undergarments and so there she stood. In the nude in front of three very virile young studs. The blue-eyed redhead was quite tall in bare feet, standing at five feet seven inches tall. And the curve of her hips embraced a slightly rounded soft belly.

Her loins tingled like fury as she looked at the desirable masked men. Feeling a little shy under the scrutiny of all, she greeted the naked men with a nod. She paid Timothy no mind as she approached the fair-haired chap first and gripped his iron-hard dick. She gleefully twisted his shaft with both hands, one moving clockwise, and the other in the opposite direction. Her hands became slick with oil as she stroked the man to full erection.

"What's your name, my good man?"

"Arthur."

"Arthur, is it?"

As she spoke his name the aroused author bent at the waist and hoovered his knob into her mouth, saturating his shaft with spit. She wanked his rod as she slobbered and slurped happily. The applied oils had no taste and the lubrication certainly helped as she endeavoured to suck in more hot cock. It had been her husband of just two years who had introduced the tender writer to oral sex.

"Let us pleasure each other in the French way," Archibald had asked as he and his new spouse spent a weekend by the sea in Devon.

The dutiful wife acquiesced and the odd sensation of taking a man into her mouth had been surprisingly agreeable, and not only that, she had discovered that she was quite good at fellatio. And when Archie had gone down on her, she had loved the way he was able to bring her to climax with just his tongue and lips.

"I'm William," said the next in line as Agatha turned her attention to him.

His formidable erection swung towards her, scything its way in the direction of her waiting mouth. Her stomach fluttered as she touched the insides of his well-developed thighs. She made a gentle sweep of her fingers inward to his greased-up groin where she palmed his dick. Her eyes closed as she inhaled the sweat and manly reek of his body.

Agatha slid down to his crotch level and nudged his cock with her nose. The heat from his groin was like a red flag as she let her hot breath singe his knob. She wetted her lips and dragged her tongue from his balls to his tip. Then she opened her mouth wider and took the whole head of his cock with a big suck. Ma Meyrick watched intently as she started to suck him off, noting how her teeth grazed the soft side of his hugeness.

"Pfff!"

Like a snake, her tongue twisted around his throbbing tip, wetting it with her warm vibrant lips. Her moist breath blew gently over his sensitive skin which caused him to hiss through gritted teeth. As she sucked his length, she ran her hands over his chest and caressed his rock-hard pecs. She slurped and licked and sucked like she did this sort of thing for a living. She took his dick all the way to the back of her throat, humming vibrations along his throbbing log.

Agatha squeezed his thighs as she worked more and more of his cock into her mouth. Once she had the top few inches of his cock sliding in and out, she pumped his shaft with her tight fist. His entire stalk was bathed in copious amounts of spit as she pursed her lips around the very crown of his imperial helmet and drooled like a baby. Her bare flesh prickled with perspiration and her love juices were flowing out down her thighs with each passing second. Out of the corner of her eye, the African twitched and fidgeted in anticipation. Agatha stood up and looked him over. She had never seen a black-skinned man naked, let alone in a state of sexual arousal.

"And you are?"

"Everton."

Crowley cupped her mons which ached for attention. Her nipples stood out from her pert breasts as she reached out to touch his magnificent erection. Everton was packing a bigger dick than even William's beast. His ebony cock had to be more than nine inches long and was as thick as her wrist, and the plum-coloured tip of it protruded about half an inch from the upstanding pole.

Very tentatively, Agatha allowed her small fingers to encircle the dark shaft. It felt oddly smooth, and very firm in her grasp. Was it really black? Or just a deep shade of purple? The fearsome glans was slightly lighter in colour than the shaft which had numerous engorged veins and ridges. She dipped her head and opened her mouth to pop his bell end in. She had a hard time getting any more than just that fat mushroom head in her mouth. How would this even fit inside her pussy?

"EESH!"

She moved her head further down but gagged on the thick girth entering her mouth. She reared back leaving his cock head lightly coated in spit bubbles. His chocolate flesh was a stark contrast against her pale skin as she slinked down his front. Again, her lips met the dark, silky skin of his massive cock. The look on her face was one of indisputable desire. Her tits heaved and her eyes widened with pure lust. His black cock was like a steel rod in her hand. Agatha felt her moistness seep down her thigh as she made searching licks with her pink tongue. No longer was she Agatha Crowley, the well-off crime writer. Now, she was just another cock hungry whore. She chose Everton. He would be her first black lover.

"Just fuck me."

She yelped as the African stud lifted her up in his arms and carried her to one of the beds. She ended up on her back with her legs stretched out, wantonly displaying her desirable ginger bush. Everton knelt upright between her splayed legs and hooked them over his shoulders. His rigid boner jutted out from his impressive body like a black club, with which he pointed at the pussy entrance of the lightweight redhead who bit her lip with an air of expectancy.

"Look at that thing!"

Suitably lubed up he wasted no time positioning himself between her legs. She lifted herself up onto her elbows so that she could watch him enter her muff. He placed the mushroom-sized head at her entrance and rubbed the wet slit from top to bottom, coating himself and her with the goo. He placed his arms under her thighs and lifted her slender pins up so that her high heels tapped at his ears. He lined up and gave a little push. Agatha locked eyes with the black beefcake as his helmet prodded at her soft folds repeatedly. As her pussy stretched to accommodate his incredible glans, his ebony shaft sucked inside her with an audible squelch.

"Oh, that's big!"

He was now easing his way in and out at a slow pace to loosen her up. The slim author looked down her body and saw that her juices were coating his dark beast of a dick, still half in, half out. In the soft glow of the candlelight, she could easily see his midnight-black appendage glistening with moisture. Then, he grunted and squeezed her legs into the crooks of his elbows as he slammed the rest of his cock inside her. Agatha screamed out with pleasure and shock and his dick reached depths that no other man had done so before.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

"Give it to her, Everton!" cheered Tallulah Bankhead.

Agatha turned her head to the adjacent bed to see the Hollywood star riding Valentino in a reverse cowgirl position, facing away from them and with her big tits jiggling. She was bouncing and grinding on him with relish, whilst moaning over and over.

"Fuck me, Rudi! Fuck this dirty whore!"

She leaned back against his broad chest and began to undulate her hips lasciviously, grinding herself against his stiff cock. When he started to ride up, Tallulah automatically began to respond by pressing back against him in order to add to his arousal and hers.

"Horsy! Horsy!" chanted the woman deliriously.

Horse cock indeed, though Agatha as she embraced the exquisite ache of her first black dick. They were both glowing under the soft candlelight and Agatha trembled with excitement. The incredible friction of his big dick thrusting in and out of her made her toes curl. She revelled in the moment as he filled her with his long, rhythmic strokes. The wicked taboo of interracial sex heightened her arousal to a whole new level.

Everton now fucked Agatha with a steady pace and she felt an orgasm building deep inside. Every stroke of his thick appendage touched every nerve ending in her cunt and sent numerous tingles through her loins. She felt a tsunami wave building inside her with each stroke. With each impact of his prick inside her, she made an upward thrusting that lifted her bottom clear off the bed.

"It's just...so big!"

Suddenly, her whole body tensed, and she gasped loudly as her pussy clamped around his thrusting black log. Her feet waved in the air as she trembled from her intense orgasm. He began to slide out of the panting female, inch by inch. By inch, by inch, by inch! How on earth had he squeezed so much black meat inside her gaping cunt? As he pulled out, she was completely covered in a sheen of sweat. She had cum so hard that her pussy did not stop throbbing with the most incredible spasms.

"Ha!"

Agatha shrieked as Everton rolled the pair of them in a fluid move that saw her on top of him. It was such a smooth motion that his cock never left her cunt. With a shake of her head and a sigh of utter delight, she sank down as far as was permissible on his outstanding boner. The deep penetration was divine. His strong hands on her waist started to guide her up and down on his giant cock. He then pawed her breasts and pinched her hard nipples as she attempted to ride his massive length. She rocked side to side with fine hip rolls as she adjusted to him.

As Agatha rode his incredible cock, she perceived a shadow from her left to grow larger, and the young exotic dancer looked down upon the rutting couple. Josephine Baker had flawless skin on her tight figure. Now totally nude, the dusky beauty stood proud, showing off her C-cup tits, flat stomach, and a backside that resembled two ripe plums. Agatha leered at her prominent pussy mound that rose out from her visible V that ran from narrow hipbones to the bottom of her black pubic area.

"This looks like fun," she said in a French accent.

Baker came closer to Agatha and Everton, locked as they were at the groin. The dancer leaned in and gave the author a long, passionate kiss on the mouth. Agatha kissed her back with enthusiasm, idling on the black dong shoved up inside her. As Everton held her still, his dick almost fully inserted in her, Baker dropped to her knees between their legs. Her fingers stroked Agatha's labia and observed her swollen cunt. The man's black organ stuck out of the pink folds of her quim which dripped clear juices with which to bathe the thick black shaft.

Everton then gently removed her from his cock and Agatha stood up and embraced the black girl. Even though the candles gave off a faint glow there was enough light for Agatha to see up close the bullet-hard nipples of the girl poking out. She groaned as her wet muff was cupped and stroked lightly. Baker breathed on Agatha's neck as she purposefully fingered her with two probing digits. Agatha trailed her long nails across the girl's breasts and flicked at the hard nipples. Pleased with the throaty response from the black dancer, she clamped her lips onto her left nipple and sucked it into her mouth with an audible slurp.

"Wicked!"

They flopped onto the bed and Baker flung her arms open in invitation for Crowley to join her. Taking a moment to drink it all in, Agatha looked upon the perfectly formed girl and fell on top of her. Their hot bodies writhed in each other's arms as both pushed at the other with their lower bodies. Agatha pressed her mound down on Baker who thumped right back at her. Their mouths met and their tongues intermingled as they dry-humped each other. Baker grabbed onto the other's cheeks and used her to bang into her moistening snatch.

"Yikes!"

The naked dancer spun the pair of them so that it was she on top of the other. The ebony goddess slithered down Crowley's front, leaving a vertical smear of saliva all the way to her mons. Agatha sighed and spread her legs out wide as the soft curls of her pubes were tugged and teased. Her clitoris peeped out from its tiny cover and Baker flicked out her tongue at it. Two fingers parted her outer lips and delved inside her ever-increasing wetness. As she was soundly frigged a darting tongue brushed her clit from side to side. Agatha cooed and wrapped her slim pins around Baker's upper back and rotated her hips as her cunt was eaten out.

"Blood and sand!"

Agatha's head fell back onto the mattress as her heart pounded. Baker must have gained a lot of experience in a short time as she wiggled her long tongue inside Crowley's sex. With each passing second, Baker sucked harder on her sopping slit sending waves of delight through her body. Her bud was teased beyond her wildest dreams and intense pulses rushed through her nether regions. In a haze of lust, Agatha tried to focus as the girl spoke to her.

"Can you do 69?"

"What's that?" Agatha was confused, still, a novice in Sapphic bed play.

Without further ado, Baker then straddled her with her head in her lap and her bottom over her face. Agatha stared up at the pink-lined cunt of the black beauty. As her own pussy was enthusiastically lapped on, she began to lick Baker's smooth labia, making clockwise circular motions all around. Crowley hummed blissfully as her pussy was probed and sucked with relish.

"Yeah, keep doing that, honey. Lick that fucking pussy!"

Pussy? How quaint. Agatha buried her face in Baker's cunt and used her pointed tongue to thrust up inside the juiced-up slit. She moved her head back and forth and gripped the firm ass cheeks in her trembling fingers. Emboldened by the salacious unfolding orgy, Crowley used her lips to form a seal around the dancer's clit. She sucked her cheeks in and was pleased to hear the black girl hiss in response.

Likewise, Agatha gasped as her anus was flicked at by Baker's rapidly stabbing tongue action. The pale redhead gripped the bedlinen tightly with clenched fists at the feverish anal stimulation. Just when it looked as if she might climax, Agatha was unceremoniously lifted up onto the bed on all fours. William came up behind her and mounted her doggy style, slipping his swollen eight inches of thick meat into her very wet cunt. Arthur had also positioned Josephine Baker onto her hands and knees and was already giving the girl a good seeing to. Agatha had a terrific view of her perfect black ass rippling as he rammed home each time, His flat belly slapped against her with audible smacks.

"Fuck that pussy, baby!"

He was giving it to her just how she wanted it, with savage strokes and at a furious pace. Baker came nose to nose with Crowley, and as each heated female was fucked from behind, they held onto each other at the shoulders and engaged in a tongue-wagging kiss.

'Harder, yes, harder, yes!" urged the slutty dancer, who gazed directly into Agatha's big blue eyes.

"Switch!" William barked.

Both women remained in position as their men moved around. Arthur grabbed Agatha by the hips and started to fuck her briskly. Baker went back down on her forearms and ground her ass back onto William's hard dick with her trademark bump and grind. Her tits started to swing wildly as the white cock hit home repeatedly and they both settled into an energetic ride.

"Fuck me, baby, fuck me!"

Agatha was head down, bum up, with her latest lover slamming his dick home in her cunt like a battering ram. She was rotating her hips to grind her ass into him, but his force lifted her off the bed when he slammed into her hard.

"I'm coming!" Baker cried as she slipped into Agatha exhausted.

William stopped fucking her and Arthur also slowed up his vigorous strokes. Both of them withdrew and looked at each other. Arthur made a circular motion with his hand and both panting females laid on their backs. He settled on top of the curvy black girl and instantly began to plunge in and out of her cunt. She whimpered in sheer delight with her feet up behind his shoulders and her thighs pressed back against her body.

"Lovely, lovely, lovely," she said over and over with each inward thrust.

William's erection bobbed maddingly as he positioned himself between Agatha's parted thighs. He lifted her by the knees, spreading her legs, and pushed all the way in. He roughly tugged her across the sheets which rucked up her ass crack as he penetrated her. Her ankles were raised over his shoulders so that her bottom was elevated slightly off the bed.

"That's it, my man. Give me the fucking I need."

The masked stud took the encouragement and plunged into her even faster. He was pulling all the way out of her, leaving just the tip of his erection at her dripping opening before pounding down with all his force deep. His balls slapped against her upturned backside with a lewd smacking as she implored him to continue.

"Yes, yes, more!"

Agatha knew that she was about to cum again. But that was the moment that he pulled out with her orgasm imminent.

"Oh, you!" she moaned as she looked down at her gaping cunt. Oh so close.

Again she was unceremoniously turned, six inches to her right as she was taken again by Everton's big black cock. His ramrod erection drove up her and she cried out, clinging to his back with her feet as he fucked her, deep and urgent. It was all she could do was hold on and take it. It was concerted sweaty, urgent, wanton, fucking. Enough said.

"Oh, my!"

The redhead's entire body shook from the massive orgasm that lulled her into a sea of lust. Her eyes were half closed as she rode on the wave of contentment.

Everton also peaked, pulled out, and stroked his great length at a stunned Agatha.

"Fuck!"

Great gushes of his cum splattered her tongue and lips one after another, spraying outwards so that there wasn't an inch of her face not violated. He sighed as his cock spurted the last on her stomach and thighs.

"Here."

William neared her coated face as she opened her mouth and he sent sticky jets of cum forth to warm her throat. He shuddered and spasmed, spraying the last of his thick juice on her face as she trembled and thrust deep in her saturated cunt with her fingers. When all was over and done, Agatha looked a pretty sight, bathed as she was in thick globs of cum that gave her an almost clownish look. Rivulets of cum and sweat dripped down her chin onto her pert tits and down her front.

"You dirty boys!" she grinned as she raised her right hand to her face to draw some of the goo to her fingertips.

As she licked them clean one of them handed her a convenient towel, and she reflected on an amazing night. She had fucked three men in one session, something she had never done. She was in sexual heaven, having sucked off all three guys at the same time and had been royally stuffed by all. The paid studs had regularly traded places, each of them bringing to multiple orgasms over and over.

"Oh. Timothy!"

Looking around she saw Tallulah on her knees in front of the seated Ma Meyrick eating her out as the congenial hostess rested her legs on the arms of the chair. On the bed closest to the recovering Agatha, she saw Major Trent's milky white buttocks rising and falling as he fucked Babe Plunket in the missionary position. Elizabeth Ponsonby stroked his arm as she awaited her turn. Sure enough, Timothy withdrew from the one he had been shagging and moved six inches to his left. With an audible grunt, he popped inside Ponsonby's pink slot and immediately began to screw her to the mattress.

"Good for you, Major."

As she sat on the edge of her bed a shadow grew larger as a tall silhouette blocked out her view.

"Signora?"

With his sexy cat-like grace, the Italian heartthrob stood before in all his naked glory. His muscular physique was all the more impressive up close, not to mention his imposing manhood which poked up out of his trimmed-back groin.

"Mister Valentino?"

"Baciami."

Agatha was speechless as his wide eyes bored into hers. It was as if he had mesmerised her as he stood with his hands on his hips and nodded to his burgeoning erection.

"Kiss. That?"

"Si."

He gave her a flirtatious grin, and Agatha leaned forward and landed a smacker on his bloated bell end. It wasn't just the way that he looked at her when she reached out to grip rock-hard cock, nor his renowned handsome smoulder that made her pussy quite positively throb, but it was how her heightened senses allowed her to savour the aromas and musky scent of his beautiful bared bod. As he did with thousands of captivated females who flocked to the cinema to see him on the silver screen, he unleashed the primal woman inside her.

"Ummm!"

The besotted author savoured the unique opportunity and clamped her lips around his silky smooth shaft and sucked half of his length into her mouth. After she had wetted his pulsating stalk, he teasingly ran her tongue along the underside of his stiff cock, leaving both the tip and shaft with saliva. The masculine scent of his unfettered loins made her nostrils flare as she gamely took him deeper into her throat, burying her nose against his crotch. The feel of him fully inside her drooling mouth drove her wild with lust and daring.

"Uhngh!"

She grabbed onto his dreamy backside and felt his buttocks clenching sporadically as her head bobbed up and down in a hands-free blowjob. Valentino responded by holding her head and ramming his dick down her throat. Crowley gagged as she engulfed his entire shaft. He forcefully nodded her head back and forth on his rigid log, and her mouth ran down her chin in a slow-moving trickle of spit.

"Stupendo!"

With his knees pressed into the bed on either side of her trim body he pushed forward with his pelvis so that his bulbous cock head hit the back of her throat repeatedly.

"Gagh!"

Her lips pursed and his shaft dragged past them, wetting them until they shone in the flickering light of the candles. He shifted his weight and drove his hips forward and face fucked the famed English writer with swift strokes. The wanton redhead felt dirty and depraved. And she loved it! Her eyelids fluttered in eager anticipation of the actor's cum. She craved that moment when he would groan, signifying the beginning of his orgasm. That moment when his cock would start to pulsate between her lips and she would swallow mouthful after mouthful and just keep on sucking until she had drained his balls of every last drop he had to give.

"Ho!"

Valentino pulled her head into his crotch and held her there in firm hands as he ejaculated, sending streams of his thick cum into her mouth and directly down her gullet. Agatha snorted and her nose made snot bubbles as she gulped down his load. When he was spent, he relinquished his grip and his dribbling cock was released from the vacuum of her wide-open mouth. With strong hands, he pulled her up by her arms and then he pushed her onto the bed. Without a word, he parted her legs wide in front of him to expose her swollen mound. Again, it was the way he gazed longingly at her with half-lidded eyes that made her loins throb.

"Bellissimo."

Agatha gulped back cum in her throat as her cunt was given one very long and slow lick. Then he widened her lithe pins as he used his flattened tongue to slip and slide between her upper thighs. He kissed and licked her swollen folds over and over, making the insides of her legs and labia sticky with spit. The world's greatest lover instinctually knew how to please a woman as he lovingly treated her quim to a thorough licking.

"Right...there!"

And when he inevitably moved onto her clit, Agatha was so turned on that even the merest attention was going to bring her to climax. His nimble tonguing teased her sensitive clitoris hood to expose her tiny button which he kissed and nibbled on endlessly. As he sucked harder, she clamped her legs to the sides of his head as she cried out in ecstasy. Her cunt squirted juices in his face as she came with spasm after spasm. She rolled onto her side as he rose and vanished from her sight.

"Splendid!" Ma announced as she stood up naked from the waist down. "What spiffing fun! Thank you all for coming. Pun intended! There are adequate toilet facilities through the door at the far end of the room."

Timothy joined Agatha with a big grin. He was still in the buff and his dick hung limp but at peace between his legs.

"Well, old thing. How about that? A jolly good ravishing by the Sheik himself! What good sport. You must be thrilled."

"Stuff and nonsense, my man."

"What?"

"You didn't really think that was Rudolph Valentino, did you? Or Chanel, Bankhead, and Stravinsky? They were all paid lookalikes. Hired for sexual titillation just like the concubines were."

"Are you quite certain? They seemed like the genuine article to me."

"I merely used the little grey cells. The clues are all there if you look. Stravinsky a snivelling submissive who likes to wear baby nappies? Ridiculous. Coco Chanel is at least two inches too taller than the real fashion icon. Tallulah Bankhead? Never. She spoke of a holiday when she would have used the American word vacation. She's no more of a Yank than I am. Josephine Baker conversed in a French accent whereas she was born and bred in St. Louis Missouri. From what I gather, unless she learned French in the United States I doubt that she would pick up the language and accent in the space of a few weeks. As for the world's greatest lover, he was bereft of a foreskin, when it's a well-known fact that the great majority of Italian males are not circumcised. I suspect he is an Englishman as well."

"Good lord! How very astute of you. How did you know all about them in such detail?"

"I read the newspapers, dear boy."

"Is that all?"

"Really. I have no gifts, except perhaps a certain knowledge of all the sex positions. Order and method is all."

"Good. How many orgasms did you have?"

"Numerous, Major. Numerous."

Agatha settled back in the seat of the car with a satisfied grin. What a jolly good romp indeed!

END