Breaking Point Pt. 09

The previous instalment of this story may be found in 'Group Sex'

XXII

After all the hectic activity of the past few days, it was no surprise that Paula went out to a lower ranked player in the quarter-final. Adriana, though, sailed through to the semis, cheered on my a very ebullient dreadlocked figure in the stands.

For the final, which Adriana won - bringing her only her second tour win in ten years - Gaspar had been invited into the players' friends area. They were inseparable from this point onwards, Gaspar gaining entry to the States and obtaining his green card just five years later as a result of some strings pulled by the tour commissioner's husband.

'The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley,' as Robbie Burns once put it.

Still, Paula was magnanimous to accept that her attempt to bring karma to the Romanian had boomeranged on herself.

When she returned to Florida, Paula made a point of going to see Jack the first evening she was free. He was remarkably chipper given the difficult time he had been going through. He had put the divorce in the hands of a lawyer who specialised in family law - someone he had known for a long time. To her credit, Chrissie wasn't trying to screw him for everything he'd got. Perhaps she realised the weakness of her position. It was as well, Jack realised, that she had no idea of his relations with Paula, as that would definitely have complicated things.

Paula didn't even have to lie to her parents about her visit, as Jack dealt with some contractual issues for Paula and she had to speak to him about a couple of new sponsorship deals that were in the offing. She deliberately dressed down for the visit and if Jack was disappointed that sex clearly wasn't going to be on the agenda, he didn't show it.

She shared a number of text messages with Adriana, who was gracious enough to thank Paula for all she'd done for her, even though she knew she had intended it as payback.

'We're like two peas in a pod,' Adriana said, referring to Gaspar.

Adriaan had taken to calling him 'Scumpi', which apparently meant 'precious' in Romanian, but nonetheless sounded very odd to Paula. Naturally, she didn't tell her this. Instead, she asked her questions about their relationship, which Paula was delighted to answer - and some! Having spent her whole existence shut up like a clam, she was revelling in her new life, like a pit bull puppy rescued from the shelter.

But it was at home that the most interesting - to Paula, disturbing - change had taken place, specifically in the relationship between Paula and her mother. She brought up the Cincinnati tournament - now almost a month in the past - and made comments about her daughter losing her focus.

'Reports I've had about your performance in Mexico talk about the same thing. I've made the necessary arrangements so that I won't be missing any of your events right up to the season ending tournament in London.'

Paula wondered whether Adriana had boasted about her conquest of the American star to her friends - even just one of them. Given her mother's involvement with women either on the tour or following it, that might explain her shadowy comments. On the other hand, Paula might be reading too much into her mother's words. It could just be that she was surprised - and annoyed - that she was losing to players ranked beneath her.

She thought about asking Adriana if she'd talked to anyone about her seduction in the shower, but decided against it. She hadn't exactly been best buddies with the Romanian woman in the immediate aftermath of that event; indeed, she'd pretty much avoided her. She knew that Adriana was free to talk about her scalp with whoever she liked. And she didn't want to jeopardise their new friendship by raking up the past.

The next thing her mother brought up took Paula aback even more. She asked her if she was aware of the reasons for Chrissie's break-up with Jack.

'I dunno,' she replied, as casually as she could make it. 'I thought maybe it had something to do with the twins. Maybe some kind of delayed post-natal depression.'

At this, her mother laughed.

'You know something I don't know, mom?' Paula said.

If her mother was on a fishing expedition, then Paula was going to fish right back.

'So Jack hasn't told you anything? I know you two get along.'

'Now, what was that supposed to mean?' wondered Paula. 'More fishing, I guess.'

'Yeah, we get along just fine. But he doesn't share that kind of thing with me.'

Her mother looked at her quizzically for a few moments, as if she was wondering not so much whether she believed her or not as whether she considered it was the right time to tell her daughter what she really thought. In the end, she offered Paula some crumbs, watching her carefully as she did so, with a view to picking up a reaction, however well Paula might try to conceal it.

'Chrissie has come to the realisation that she prefers women.'

Paula did her best to look shocked.

'Wow!' she said.

She knew it was better to say as little as possible.

'Is that all you've got to say? "Wow!"'

'Mom, it's such a shock. I need a bit of time to get my head round it.'

'She says every woman - every girl - has a lesbian side. It just needs the right conditions, the right circumstances to bring it out.'

Paula had to think on her feet. She knew that what she said next would be key.

'I guess it's not such a big thing these days,' she said, trying to buy a bit of time, avoiding her mother's gaze, which was beginning to make her rather uneasy.

Her mother gave her no help - standing there, clearly expecting her daughter to say more. Visions of her mother fucking Chrissie with that strap-on flooded her mind. She gulped for air, her heart beating fast. She had to push the thought of Jack's wife out of her mind. Even more so, she had to banish the image of her mother, subjugating the stunning blonde like an Amazonian queen.

'Had she ever experimented before?' she asked her mother in the most even voice she could summon up. 'Like in college.'

'I've no idea,' said her mother - a touch icily, Paula thought.

Paula very much wanted on her own - definitely, not to be alone with her mother right now. She knew her father would be away in Oakland for a couple of days, starting the next day, and her mind was in a whirl, as she thought of places she could go. The idea of being in the house with her mother was something she couldn't put her head round all of a sudden.

Excusing herself, she took herself upstairs to her room and locked the door. She told herself that she mustn't do it, but the desire was just too great for her to deal with. Lying on her bed, she pulled her sweatpants down, together with her panties, and began to frig herself hard.

One minute she was being eaten out by Chrissie, the next she was returning the favour for Jack's wife. But it was when she thought of her mother approaching her from across the room with that dildo jutting out from her body that she started to lose control. Grabbing a pillow, she held it over her mouth to smother the cries which she knew she would be powerless to hold back. In seconds, she was overwhelmed by a violent orgasm.

Getting up, she rearranged the bed, waited until her breathing had returned to normal, then went to the door and unlocked it. Her heart began pounding again at the thought that her mother might be right outside on the landing. She decided to have a shower in her en-suite bathroom, but the very thought of a shower only functioned to put her in mind of her first time with Adriana - her first time with a woman.

Locking the bathroom door, she turned on the shower, letting the water cascade off her head. She wanted so badly to start masturbating again. Instead, she applied shampoo to her hand and lathered her hair. Rinsing it out, she applied some more, then conditioner, trusting that the process would lower her libido.

Perhaps it did. But when she started to rub shower gel over her front, her hands instantly made for her breasts. The feeling of her oily fingers on her skin sent shivers down her spine. Without meaning to, she started to massage her breasts in the most sexual way. When she touched her nipples, she exclaimed wantonly and started to pinch them and make them hard.

'Yeah!' she whispered, knowing that her fingers were capable of moving in only one direction.

The slickness of her pussy surprised even her. She was so wet, so deep down. Remembering the way Adriana had slipped three fingers into her pussy, she did the same to herself.

'Fuck, yeah!' she groaned.

Then, remembering how she herself had placed her fist inside the Romanian, she added her little finger and finally her thumb. Her hand inside her hardly seemed to be filling her. She pumped it back and forth and the action had an immediate effect: the orgasm wasn't a matter of 'if', only of 'when.'

She so much wanted to make the pleasure last, and for perhaps a minute she succeeded in doing just that. It was when she thought of her mother that she began, once more, to lose it. She had sneaked into the bathroom, opened the shower doors, and, smiling that enigmatic smile at her daughter, pushed her around so that she was facing the tiled wall. Then, in one easy movement, she drove her woman's penis deep inside Paula's pussy, making her come instantly and continuously - each orgasm being more powerful than the one before.

XXIII

Exiting the shower, Paula made hurried arrangements to meet up with some old schoolfriends that evening. To her surprise, her mother didn't get upset with her when she told her she'd be missing dinner. She merely said her that it would be nice to eat with Paula's father before his departure to the west coast.

'You will be at home tomorrow evening, though, won't you, Paula?' her mother added. 'I'm thinking of asking Chrissie over.'

Paula was glad that she was fetching something out of a drawer when her mother said this, as she felt like her stomach had just been attacked by a flotilla of butterflies.

'Sure, yeah, why not?' she said, composing herself as she turned to face her mother.

All that evening, while she was catching up with her old friends, Paula was unable to stop thinking about her mother's words, delivered so casually. As for her acquiescence to the whole deal - being alone in the house with her mother and Chrissie of all people - she berated herself nonstop.

'I must tell my mother I can't make it,' she thought. 'I'll get one of the girls to invite me out. I'll get a babysitting gig. Whatever it takes!'

And yet she didn't arrange anything, didn't really even try. She felt herself entering a spider's web, but she couldn't do anything to stop herself. When the fateful evening arrived, she made a last-minute decision. Instead of wearing casual wear, she decided to dress up a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she fought fire with fire, she would unnerve them. She would be able to take the upper hand, to fight the battle on the terrain of her own choosing.

She already knew which shoes she would wear - a pair of white 4-inch heels. Not any pair, either, but a pair she'd bought in Rome earlier that year during the clay-court season: made from lamb leather, with pointed toes and stiletto heels. The shoes, which she'd never worn, featured red lacquered soles. They were truly the height of sophistication!

By contrast, the dress was something she'd picked up at a local clothing store: an off-the-shoulder white mini dress with short lantern sleeves, a ruffled elastic waistband and ruffle pleats. She added a dab of scent on her neck and behind her ears and went downstairs feeling a million dollars, confident that she would steal the initiative away from the older women and set the tone for the evening.

Jennifer and Chrissie were sitting in the living room, drinking cocktails. Chrissie was wearing a low-cut backless bandage dress - predominantly black, with a geometric motif in different colours of the rainbow - with an asymmetric hem which was already plenty short and was riding further up her thighs as she sat back on the sofa laughing and chatting with Paula's mother. She had accessorised it with gold hoop earrings and high-heeled transparent pump sandals.

But it was her own mother that Paula couldn't take her eyes off. Jennifer looked as if she had stepped out of the golden age of Hollywood, clad in a gold mini dress made of a shimmering beaded fabric with a ruched wrap-style skirt. The halter neckline ensured that all eyes were drawn to Jennifer's breasts, which Paula noticed had benefited from time spent topless on a tanning bed. To complete the stunning ensemble, on her feet Jennifer was wearing metallic gold leather thong sandals with what looked like three-inch heels.

'Why don't we have a bite to eat and then go out and party?' Jennifer said.

'Not the old Mom at all!' thought Paula

'I know just the place,' said Chrissie. 'It's in West Palm Beach. Tonight is ladies' night. Free drinks till 1am. We can get an Uber.'

Jennifer was enthusiastic in her response, but Paula was less certain.

'If it's just EDM, I'm not that keen.'

'Don't worry, kid,' Chrissie replied. 'It's got two dance areas. You can choose the one with hip-hop and Latin. They sometimes play Reggae too.'

That pretty much settled it. They had a light dinner then set off shortly after nine on the 30-minute ride to their destination. When they got to the club, they were greeted in a particularly friendly way by the bouncers, who nonetheless carried out a thorough search of their clutch bags. The place wasn't heaving when they arrived, but it soon began to fill up. The women ordered drinks and initially sipped on their cocktails at the bar, trying to make themselves heard above the music, while they scanned the joint to see what sort of crowd gathered.

Predominantly, they were disappointed to note, there were a lot of single men - obviously out on the prowl. After a few minutes, a couple of the bolder ones (Latino types with slicked back hair) came up to try their luck, but, receiving no encouragement, they swiftly melted back into the crowd.

'How about a dance?' Jennifer all but shouted at Chrissie.

'Let's try next door!' yelled Chrissie. 'It's got more of a speakeasy vibe.'

Well, it could hardly be said that the ambience of the other room was all that intimate or mysterious - true, the lighting was a little dimmer - but they headed for it, nonetheless, leaving Paula in the main area. Naturally, she immediately became prey for a shoal of men, aged between 20 and 50 - all of whom she fobbed off with a polite, but firm shake of the head.

Seeing this, she was approached by a Hispanic woman in her mid-forties, or so Paula estimated. She had that carefree manner which seems innate to such Floridians. She was dressed in a dark grey sleeveless dress, which accentuated her ample curves. The halter V- shaped neckline showed off her well-proportioned boobs to good effect. Paula imagined that her dress would be backless - as indeed it was. She was wearing a silver necklace in the shape of a dragonfly and had a tattoo of a serpent coiled round itself on her upper left arm.

The woman introduced herself as Lucia - with the stress on the middle syllable - and asked Paula if she would like a drink. Paula pointed to her mojito, and Lucia bought one for Paula and one for herself. They sipped their cocktails, neither trying to make conversation against the din of the electronic music.

After a few minutes, which might have been awkward, but weren't, Lucia took Paula's hand and led her out onto the dance floor.

'You're a tennis player, aren't you?' Lucia spoke with quite heavily accented English into Paula's ear.

By way of response, the blonde nodded. It wasn't a nod of indifference, such as she sometimes gave to men looking to chat her up; it was a nod that carried warmth and even a little encouragement. Not that she imagined the bubbly Latina needed much of that.

Paula, who had taken ballet classes as a young girl, thought of herself as a decent dancer, but this woman was in a different league. So much so that Paula struggled to keep up. Lucia had every move in the book - and not a few of her own - and some of the other couples on the dance floor soon withdrew so that they could watch the pair, as they swayed and twirled and sashayed.

Fit as she was, after five minutes or so, Paula began to slow up a little. Seeing that she was perspiring freely, Lucia motioned to her that they might step outside for a while into the relative coolness of the night.

Taking a packet of tissues from her clutch bag, Lucia offered it to Paula, who wiped her face, her neck, her throat, her shoulders and her chest around the hemline of her dress.

'Perhaps you'd like to wash up a little?' Lucia said, noting that the perspiration was continuing to flow.

'I think I'm fine,' Paula replied, aware of how unhygienic the club's washroom was likely to be.

'Not here,' Lucia responded, sensing her hesitation.

'I know a hotel just around the corner,' she added. 'The manager and I go way back. We can wash up there.'

The hotel turned out to be, not, as Paula expected, a budget place; instead, it was one of a nationwide chain of 4-star hotels. A quick telephone call from the receptionist to the duty manager confirmed Lucia's bona fides, the receptionist handed Lucia a card key, and the next thing Paula knew she was heading up in the elevator to the 11th floor.

The room was of the executive type - more of a suite, really - with a small living room and a large bedroom, which was dominated by a king-size bed. The bathroom too was spacious, and it was to this room that Paula immediately headed. Giving she only intended to wash her face, arms and upper body, she didn't close the door.

As she washed up, she could vaguely hear Lucia in the bedroom. She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard the sound of her shoes being taken off. She was just towelling herself down when Lucia entered the bathroom - as naked as the day she was born.

'Let's shower,' she said to Paula in that sexy accent of hers.

Paula stood still like a rabbit in the headlights, unable to decide what she should do next. Memories of her first time with Adriana in the shower in the locker room in Cincinnati came flooding back to her.

'Here, let me help you,' said Lucia, pushing the dress down over Paula's breasts, so that it ended up bunched up around her waist.

She pushed it down and held Paula's hand as she stepped out of the garment, still wearing her brand-new shoes.

'You won't be needing these in the shower,' Lucia added, placing a hand on each of Paula's hips and slowly pulling her panties down.

Stepping out of these too, Paula watched as the Hispanic woman lifted each foot in turn to remove her panties, then, still crouching low, eased off each of her shoes. A little light-headed from her drinks, Paula accepted Lucia's hand and followed her into the shower. This time, there could be no ifs and buts about it: she was entering the cubicle as a consenting adult, excited beyond words by the experiences she was about to undergo.

Lucia turned the water on and held the shower head until the water became nice and warm. Then, she placed it in its bracket and motioned for Paula to stand under the jet of water. Seeing the blonde close her eyes in joyous anticipation, Lucia decided to go with the body wash first - the shampoo could wait.

Since they were facing each other, Lucia made straight for Paula's incredible breasts, loading the soap on her hands and letting it lather up on those marvellous orbs, before the continuous stream of water washed the foam away. Once she had washed each boob, she replaced her hands with her mouth, almost immediately clamping down on Paula's nipples with her teeth.

Noting the girl's astonishingly heightened arousal, she continued to work her mouth on each of Paula's breasts in turn, while her hand snaked down over her flat belly to her opening.

'Aargh!' Paula groaned, as she felt Lucia's finger penetrating her sex.

Almost instantly, the finger moved from her vagina to her clitoris, rubbing it - quite gently - in tiny circles.

'Aw, fuck!' moaned Paula, unable - and not wishing - to hold back the orgasm that was about to overwhelm her.

Anticipating her every move, Lucia dropped to her knees and replaced her finger with her expert tongue. With a similar circular motion, she worked on the tiny organ until it was stiff and certainly not so tiny. One hand sought out her hungry cunt, while the other started to slap her buttocks with intent.

Paula didn't know how much longer she could stay on her feet. What she really needed was for the dusky Latina to be supporting her rather than smacking her. As if in answer to her unspoken prayer, Lucia stopped chastising her, but what happened next brought no relief, but instead caused the teenager to go completely over the edge.

While continuing to work on her clit - no gentle circular motion now, but a veritable tongue-lashing - she inserted another finger into Paula's greedy cunt and (the coup de grace), pushed the index finger of her other hand into the tennis pro's asshole.

'Eugh!' Paula cried, as the first of several orgasms shattered her body, which slumped to the floor.

Removing her face from Paula's sex, Lucia continued to frig both her holes, happy to ride the waves together with the girl she had seduced so easily.

XXIV

Now in complete control, Lucia rinsed Paula off, reached out for a towel, handed it to her and told her to wait for her in the bedroom. She then washed her hair and her body, taking her time over it - knowing that Paula wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

It gradually dawned on Paula that there was something unusual about this room. It didn't have the feel of a normal hotel room. And that wasn't just because it was a kind of suite. The pictures on the walls were erotic in nature - one, in particular, which depicted, albeit in an abstract way, two women embracing.

'No,' Paula thought. 'Not so much embracing, as entwining, becoming one.'

Opening one of the drawers of the bedside table, she saw a strap-on dildo.

'Why aren't I surprised?' she asked herself.

Taking it out, she saw that there were in fact two dildoes. Both were black, only one was bigger than the other. Neither, however, could rightfully be described as small.

She closed the drawer and waited for Lucia to come out. Hearing her busying herself - presumably in front of the mirror - Paula checked her phone. As expected, she had messages from the other two, Chrissie specifically.

'Where you at, hun?' said the first.

'Scored already?' read the second.

Paula smiled when she read this. 'Score' was one of Chrissie's favourite words. She'd picked it up from an English movie with Hugh Grant and basically run with it.

'Jealous, huh?' Paula replied.

'Stick around and it might be your lucky night!' she added, with an array of suitable emojis.

Then, to stave off further questions - and interruptions - she added that she'd see them in an hour. That, she reckoned, would give her enough time to pay ample homage to Lucia's body.

When Lucia came in, she was wearing a short, silk ivory robe. It had clearly cost her a pretty penny. Paula decided to ask her what line of business she was in and was surprised when she said talent management - though she couldn't have said why.

It turned out that that was how Lucia knew of Paula - as a prominent and highly marketable sportsperson who her company might represent. Paula chuckled when she thought of Lucia's company dealing with Stanford, her agent, who was like a Rottweiler when it came to protecting her interests - not to mention, his own.

Paula felt pleased when Lucia shared all this with her - kind of safe too. If Lucia was interested in her merely for her marketing potential and as a business proposition, then she had a funny way of going about things! The idea of the Latina going at it hammer and tongs with Stanford to secure her image rights filled Paula with delight. That was one battle which wouldn't be fought out in the bedroom, as Stanford was as bent as a nine bob note, to borrow another of Chrissie's favourite expressions - with another nod of the head to Hugh Grant.

'We have 45 minutes,' Paula told Lucia, as the voluptuous woman made her way to the bed.

'I see,' Lucia replied. 'There is a lot you can do in 45 minutes, no?'

'Definitely,' said Paula, loosening the bow on the sash of Lucia's robe and ogling her body as the silk parted like a curtain in the theatre.

'I don't think we need this,' she said, getting onto her knees on the bed and pushing the slinky material off her shoulders.

Paula noticed that one of Lucia's nipples was inverted, while the other protruded as normal. As she knelt there, running her hands down Lucia's flanks, she wondered if she might mention it or if good manners prescribed that she should say nothing. In the event, Lucia brought it up herself, telling Paula she'd been born like that.

'Well,' she added with a smile. 'They weren't as big as this when I was a baby!'

Given the conversation had turned that way, Paula thought it only right that she should start by playing with her boobs. But then she remembered that she'd not yet actually kissed Lucia. Everything had happened so fast. So, she placed a hand on each cheek and softly wrapped her lips around the Hispanic woman's full upper lip. Lucia responded in character by placing one hand on Paula's shoulder and the other on her athletic ass.

At first, contrary to Paula's expectation, the kissing was soft and slow. Sensual too - not lacking in passion. When their tongues met, though, the gloves came off. Pushing Paula back onto the bed, Lucia powered her tongue down the blonde's throat. The younger woman might be strong and athletic, but the older woman had years of experience on her side. She could read women like a book, and she knew that this one loved to be dominated... and loved to be fucked by older women.

Paula tried to flip Lucia onto her back so that she could get to work on her pussy, but Lucia was having none of it. Taking Paula by the wrists, she forced her arms above her head and refused to let go of them before receiving assurances from her that she wouldn't move them.

Paula wondered what might happen if she disobeyed the Latina. In her imagination, she saw Lucia getting a pair of police-issue handcuffs out of the other bedside drawer and placing them none too gently round her wrists and tightening them until they pinched her. Then she imagined her taking chains from the closet, anchoring them to hoops on the floor and attaching them to anklets on her feet, thus splaying her out - her pudenda being put on lewd display.

Without realising it, Paula had opened her legs wide. Suddenly, she was assailed by an almost unbearable desire to play with herself, to make herself come.

This became impossible when Lucia sat down flush on Paula's abdomen. Was she imagining it or was that really juice running from the older woman's pussy that Paula could feel on her skin?

Bending forward, Lucia commanded Paula to lick her breasts. Not knowing which one she should start with, Paula hesitated for a moment and was given an earful by the fiery Latina.

'Okay, okay,' Paula thought. 'If I start with the funny-looking one, Lucia might think I'm taking pity on her, patronising her. But then if I start on the normal one, she might think I'm prejudiced.'

Unhappy with Paula's dilatoriness, Lucia grabbed Paula by the back of the head and yanked her face towards her left boob - as fate would have it, the one with the inverted nipple.

'Now stop fucking about,' she roared, 'and give me some pleasure. Fuck knows - I have given you so much already!'

Paula wanted to tell her that that was exactly what she'd been planning to do, but that she (Lucia) was such a control freak and, quite frankly, if this was how she was going to treat her, then, fuck you! and fuck your company! And fuck fucking boat people coming to her (Paula's) fucking country!

Instead, though, she sucked hard at that breast, as if somehow she could coax the nipple out of its hiding place.

'Yeah, babe!' groaned Lucia - instantly turned on, or else she was a helluva actor, thought Paula.

Still holding hard onto Paula's neck, Lucia feed her other tit into Paula's willing mouth.

'Now suckle this one!' she told her. 'I'm your mama, and you want your mama's milk.'

Paula went hell for leather at it this time. She had, after all, a lot more to work with. She could actually feel Lucia's nipple becoming engorged in her mouth. It was growing at the same rate a man's penis expands in similar circumstances.

'Yes, my child! Yes, babe!' cried Lucia. 'Make mama come!'

Paula wondered if something had been lost in translation. Could Lucia really come with someone just sucking her tittie? She thought the only way to find out was by continuing with the treatment she was giving her - only maybe ratcheting things up a tad, if that was humanly possible.

'They love noise, do these Latinas,' thought Paula. 'How about I slurp and generally carry on like a puppy dog?'

So Paula licked her swollen nub with long, sweeping strokes, then focused entirely on the stiff peak, lashing it fiercely and being sure to make all kinds of slurpy and sucking sounds. Amazingly, it wasn't long before Lucia started to make articulations which were unrecognisable to Paula. Perhaps they were Spanish cuss words, she reckoned. Whatever language they were in, they functioned as heralds of the middle-aged woman's impending climax.

'I've given my very first mammary orgasm!' Paula congratulated herself, as Lucia continued to babble and rant.