The Sandwich by Karen Blayne

Oh by the way red tape first.

Be warned these short stories contain mature content or naughty bits and as such may corrupt you if you’re under 12, 16, 18, 21 or 25 depending where you live thus they are not suitable for you so put them back on the shelf and let them age for a year or two.

They were sort of scribbled for fun. They were first posted on asstr.org. If you’ve paid money for this book just be aware the author has not received any payment. In fact no one has permission to charge money for this book and copyright is retained by the author. All copies must be of the complete document ©2013. Asstr.org accepts donations if you’re feeling rich or even if you’re not.

Luv Karen

How innocent can you be I asked myself. I was cleaning up the apartment after the nice young embarrassed policeman had knocked at the door. I’d settled him down with a coffee on the comfy armchair whilst he recovered from telling me my landlady was dead. Run over three times by a hit and run driver. It was the first time he’d ever had to break the news of someone’s death and he had taken some time to recover, poor guy. He’d thought he’d be chasing criminals and putting them behind bars not having to break bad news to people.

I’d never really asked myself what my landlady did for a living. She’d said she did something in P.R., that was fine by me. It meant I often got the place to myself at the weekends and quite often in the evenings. I’d got the impression that I was really some sort of watch dog for when she was away. Looking through her bedroom I was beginning to get an idea of what she meant by P.R.. Her wardrobe was immense and very varied. Her underwear collection was even more so, soft leather corsets for heaven’s sake. There was a filing cabinet in her room with her bank statements in, half of it was filled with $100 notes, a letter from a lawyer giving details of her purchase for the apartment for cash. Wading through the files I eventually found her address book with an entry for a brother in it. I rang the number and broke the news. He’d fly in shortly. I moved my things into her room hoping that I could keep from him the sort of life that his sister had led and placed a few of the more respectable clothes in my old room with some of my underwear. The bank statements I put through the shredder. I called the lawyer in the letter and they confirmed that there was no outstanding mortgage.

“You mean she actually brought the apartment for cash?” “Looks like it. I have the lawyer’s phone number here. You’ll want to sell the apartment but what about the contents?” He looked round “If I gave them to you would you house sit the apartment until I get probate?” “Are you certain? I mean the kitchen gadgets must be quite valuable.” “No our kitchen isn’t badly equipped and the cost of moving them across the country would far too high.” “Clothes?” “Are you kidding I daren’t even buy clothes for my wife, she has her own very definite tastes. No to be honest there’s a plane out of here this evening and I mean to be on it. If you could sort out her employers and the bills I’d be happy.” He looked over the pile of DVDs and shoved one or two in his bag. “Right that’s it, I’m out of here. Any cash lying around you can keep if you’re out of pocket after paying the bills let me know.” He took a fifty out of his wallet and passed it over. “Sorry I can’t stay for the funeral but if you could drop a bunch of supermarket flowers on her coffin for me that would be great, bye.” And with that he was gone.

Well I needed to find somewhere else to live eventually but for the moment rent free for probably a year. What to do with the cash? Well if I let my salary pile up in the bank and lived off the cash I could slowly make it look legitimate I supposed. I looked through the clothes, but there were so many I thought I’d put off the evil day when I waded through them all and decided which were keepable and which were going to the Salvation Army.

The door bell rang and on opening it I found myself face to face with a distinguished looking vicar. “Sarah?” he asked. I thought he must be here for the funeral arrangements so invited him in to sit in the armchair recently vacated by the young policeman. “What has been mentioned so far about the funeral arrangements?” “Funeral? No I’m not here about the funeral arrangements just to pick up Sarah for the Vicar and Tarts party tonight as we had previously arranged.” I explained about Sarah being run over and his face went white, quite as bad as the policeman. I made him a cup of coffee whilst he pulled himself together. I flippantly wondered if the armchair was having an effect on people. He was a bit distraught as he explained that he really wasn’t a man of the cloth at all but a very senior manager and it was essential that he turn up with the most stunning tart at the party in order to show that he wasn’t as hide bound as a group of plotting managers were trying to make out.

I recognised the gleam in his eye before he spoke. The same one that my young nephew has when he announces it would be an absolute treat for me to take him somewhere he rather than I would like to go. I got my “No way.” in before he even spoke. “$500?” “Not even for $500.” “$1,000?” I hesitated slightly “No sex and $2,000.” “I don’t have anything suitable to wear, I don’t wear makeup, I couldn’t begin to play the part.” I’d capitulated and he knew it. “Clothes no problem, I’m certain Sarah has something in her closet, and I’m certain you are much of a size. Lead on.”

He had me undress behind the screen then threw me scraps of silk underwear from her drawers. Can you believe pure silk black stockings? I coupled the garter belt round my waist and rolled the stockings up. I felt like a princess indulging herself, especially when I looked at the brand name on them. The bra, well definitely an exclusive French name, but not one you’d want to wear outside of your boudoir, the same applied to the knickers. The flimsy petticoat was the same exclusive French make. I waited for more clothes to arrive over the screen but nothing seemed to be coming so I walked out with my arm over my breasts. “I think there’s something missing?” He looked at me and then at the dressing table where a jewellery box lay. “You’re absolutely right.” He opened the jewellery box and pulled out what looked like a pair of ear rings. “I haven’t had my ears pierced.” “Not to worry.” He moved my arm away and proceeded to suckle one nipple until it was hard. I was too shocked to even think about stopping him. Then he hung one of the loops over it with tassels hanging down. Oh my it was stimulating to say the least, he suckled the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. “I can’t possibly go out like this. What if someone should recognise me?” He tossed me a masquerade mask. Then he picked up a silken shawl and wrapped it round my shoulders before scooping me up and carrying me out to a long black limo outside.

“Hi Sarah, I’m Stephanie” the voice came from behind the driver’s wheel. “Sarah, won't be joining us tonight this is her house mate." He looked at me then continued "Who would prefer to remain anonymous so I suggest we use Miss X for this evening.” Besides me a heavily made up French maid in an outfit that no self respecting French maid would be seen dead in smiled at me. “This evening I’m Suzette, I love the mask let me just apply a spot of red lipstick then no one could possibly recognise you.” I nodded and Suzette pulled out her lipstick and carefully applied it. “I used to do stage make up.” She chatted away as she worked, eventually she cried “All done.” And Stephanie pulled the limo out from the curb. Suzette rummaged in her bag and brought out a scent bottle, I recognised the Guerlain brand from a trip I’d made to Paris, I’d browsed through the fragrance counters but hadn’t been able to bring myself to max out my credit card to buy the smallest quantity of eau de toilette. I read the label Collection Privée. “I think just a little of Stephanie’s scent will add a touch of allure.” She dabbed a generous amount on my exposed skin in places I’d never even thought of applying scent to. I turned to Suzette with a question in my eye. “Yes it really is that exclusive and only the three of us will be wearing it tonight that I can absolutely guarantee.” Oh well I could dream about saving up for a bottle of Channel Number 5 but after this I knew it would be a letdown.

Next to me I could sense intense male interest. “Don’t even think about it.” Came the voice from behind the wheel, “I’ve not put this evening together for your pleasure but to have them all panting at her feet.”

The Limo drew up and the four of us prepared to make our entrance. Stephanie was dressed in a very masculine vicar’s outfit. “Places everyone, backs straight, tummies in.” This came from Stephanie and we walked in, Stephanie and Suzette first. As they entered Stephanie turned to Suzette and French kissed her deeply which caught the eye of every male in the place. Then she turned back and slipped my shawl off my shoulders and I entered on my vicar’s arm. Every single Mr. Big was standing rigidly to attention. Every female eye gave a very different message. I myself basking in so much male attention when Stephanie murmured and now for the kill before she and Suzette moved in and boldly kissed a nipple each I didn’t have time to react. I looked round the room and saw the jaws drop. We move to take our places at a table near the dance floor that had a reserved notice on it.

“There you see simple, they aren’t nearly as debauched as they like to think they are. I don’t even think they had enough imagination to even imagine a simple kiss between two females or nipples with tassels or surrounded with red lipstick. I think we can safely say your competition have been put in their place.” I must have looked puzzled as Suzette once more rummaged in her bag and brought out a small mirror. “I think I managed to get the right nipple a bit more centred than Stephanie.” I looked to see two red lip imprints around my nipples. “Oh we aren’t using kiss proof lipstick this evening. Stephanie thought it might be more fun.”

A small live band played at one end of the hall on a small stage. I looked round at the serving staff. They seemed to be numerous, young, pretty and dressed in short black flared skirts over bouffant petticoats. Each dress was varied slightly to emphasize their individuality. I caught Stephanie’s eye, “My niece and her student friends are always broke and they liked the idea of playing at being wicked for the night.” “Especially at the rate of pay their being paid for the evening.” Chimed in Suzette. “Did I hear that a couple were scheming to enliven the proceedings?”

At her words two of the servers stepped up onto the stage either side of the band and started to dance. To grab attention they ran their hands down under their skirts and rubbed the front of their white lacy knickers showing lots of muscular thigh. They seemed to be in competition to see who could make the most provocative moves.

“We could totally upstage them.” Murmured Suzette, “Oh you mean with this?” Stephanie drew out a wicked looking strap-on from her bag I looked at them both in horror. “I’m not having that monster pushed in me in public.” “Of course not, we totally understand. We thought you might do the pushing.” “How often do you get the chance of so much male attention and the chance to upstage pretty teens?” I must have drunk too much wine, I mean one glass had to be too much didn’t it?

They strapped me in and we headed to the stage. The girls lay on their backs and held their thighs open and I pressed the button at the base of the vibrator. God it started humming, the end quite clearly was going round in circles, there seemed to be rotating beads under the surface plus lots of flashing lights. “Open wide ready or not here it comes.” Suzette managed to smear some lubricant over it just before I penetrated her. She had to motion to me to draw it out then plunge it back in so the crowd could get a good view of the flashing lights disappearing inside her then reappearing rather than leave it in to have the most effect. Three times in Suzette, three times in Stephanie, back to Suzette, I might not have the monster inside me but the vibrations against my mound were definitely having an effect. Anyone would think it was designed to give pleasure both ways. The girls had stopped dancing now and where just looking open mouthed as were the rest of the audience.

Stephanie, Suzette, Stephanie, Suzette I moved back and forth, the crowd now counting one, two, three with my movements as I thrust in first one then the other. Stephanie once more, this time Suzette murmured let her come, so I just left it inside whirling away and as I closed my eyes I caught sight of Suzette moving. The next thing I knew I felt something cool and slippery slide up my bum. Suzette had produced a second strap on, and was stood behind me feeding the vibrator up my bum. Then the wretch cupped my sensitive breasts and tweaked my nipples. Stephanie trembled beneath me and that was just enough to send me over the top so I came as well sandwiched between them.

They helped me stagger back to our reserved table. The rest of the evening was pretty much a blur for me. I was introduced as Miss X to all and sundry and it appeared that everyone wanted to meet Miss X.

That night I crawled into bed and reflected on the evening. Just for once in a life time it had been fun to be the centre of attention and no one really knew it was me, but never, never again I vowed.

The next morning the phone rang, “Hi Miss X, its Stephanie. The chairman of the board’s grandson is having a very exclusive stag party on Friday and he wants you. $20,000 for you, Suzette is game, and we’ll have two office sluts sorry senior executive personal assistants to handle anyone we don’t fancy.”

What could I say?