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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                       PRIVATE PLACES

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                                         Chapter Four

         My new apartment was located in downtown Rio, far from the 
�madding crowd� of Buenos Aires, or even Montevideo.  After sleeping for a 
whole day to refresh myself, I called the bank and checked on the status of 
my account.  There was not a lot, but there was enough.  Somebody loved 
me.  I think mistress might have contributed a little, just to get me 
started on the right foot.  I called an interior decorator and had my 
apartment decorated to suit my tastes.  It had been furnished, but I 
changed a few things, just to make it mine.
         I met a woman and her husband, who lived in the building.  One day 
she and I lounged by the pool at our complex while her husband swam laps.  
Gradually I found the courage to tell her of my experiences at Abandon 
Gardens.  We lay tied into our teensy bikinis, her husband doing powerful 
strokes in the pool, us teasingly afraid to get our bikinis wet.  My new 
friend listened attentively as I told her how mistress had whipped me, and 
stuffed me with a hot dog up my hole, and finally taken me herself.
         �Well, you don�t seem any the worse for it,� Jill said at last, gazing 
at me with soothing eyes as I concluded my story in a breathless voice, 
very shy about telling her all of it, but feeling I had to.  She seemed 
interested, and I could not deny her.  No, I had to tell somebody, and once 
I�d hinted at my tale I felt to not tell her would somehow be a violation of 
our new friendship.  
         �Sure you girls don�t want to get wet?� Jill�s husband asked, rising 
from the pool.  He strode over to us, large and powerful, with a chest like 
Conan�s, and flicked water on us by shaking his hairy arms at us.
         �Eeek!� Jill and I both screamed.  �No, please,� she added.  �Here, 
take a towel, dear, and dry off.  Flurrie here is telling me all about a little 
trip she took out to the country, down south, where she got her first 
introduction to sex.�  Jill insisted on calling me Flurrie.  She said Fury 
was too masculine.  She preferred the more feminine version of my name.  
I�d protested a little, but she�d not given in, so I was Flurrie to her, and 
that was, I guess, okay with me.  Jill stirred her cocktail with a swizzle 
stick.  I sipped mine.  We gazed up at her husband, nude except for his 
Speedos, as he toweled off.  I saw that the bulge in the front of his suit 
increased as Jill mentioned the topic of our conversation to him.
         �Well, that�s something I wouldn�t know anything about,� Sam 
laughed.  
         �Yeah, sure,� Jill said.  �Turn around, honey.  Face away from the 
building,� she urged.  She drew him between our chairs, where we lay 
stretched out in the summer sun.  I found myself staring up at his flexing 
buttocks, encased in his swimsuit, as Jill positioned him so that he stood 
with his front looking out over the trees of a park.  We were elevated six 
stories off the ground, on a kind of veranda, overlooking the canopy of the 
trees.  Here and there, if I sat up, I could see tiny people walking their 
dogs, or sitting on park benches amongst the shady leaves.
         �Why?� Jill�s husband was just asking, when the answer became 
obvious.  If someone had been watching us from a window of our building, 
they did not see what happened next.  Jill pulled open the front of her 
husband�s trunks and poured her drink right into them.  Sam�s buns flexed, 
hard, squeezing tight.  He arched his back toward me.  He shouted, 
surprised, then happily accepted the drink on his cock, lemon rind and all.  
Jill let go of his suit.  It snapped shut.
         �We�re going out tonight, aren�t we?� she asked.  There was an 
innocent look on her face, as if nothing at all had happened.
         �I guess we are, now,� he replied.  He regained his composure as I 
watched, with fascination, his butt cheeks aimlessly flex and his cock 
grow huge inside his oh-so brief trunks.  �But you know what happens 
then, when the dinner�s concluded.  You know the price of it.�
         �Oh, I don�t want a tattoo!� Jill whined.  �I just like all the great 
food they�re having!  Rio�s most expensive restaurant!  I�ve been starving 
myself all day, dear, can�t you see?� Jill caressed her luxuriating form 
with her hand, showing off her model-slim body.  Her husband bent 
forward, casually, leaned over her and picked up a champagne glass.  It 
held jello, brought out by a waiter, compliments of the house.  We were 
well cared for here.  
         The jello was untouched.  Jill had not eaten it, despite how good it 
looked, for she didn�t want to spoil her appetite for dinner, as she�d told 
me.  Sam opened the front of Jill�s paper-thin bikini briefs.  He tipped the 
champagne glass and emptied the jello straight onto Jill�s mons.  She 
almost cried out, sticking her finger at the last moment between her lips 
and biting it hard.  Sam closed her briefs.  There was a bulge where the 
jello lay, making her look manly, as if she might have equipment of her 
own there, within the briefs, though in fact she was utterly feminine, a 
models� model, who could make thousands of dollars a day when she 
bothered to work.  Jill stared at the unsightly bulge, and I leaned round the 
hairy leg of her husband to look too, and laughed.
         �Jill, you�re a man now!� I giggled with glee.  
         �Yes, and she�d better keep it in right up to our apartment,� Sam 
advised.  �You�re lucky you�ve eaten yours, Flurrie, or I�d do the same to 
you!�
         �You wouldn�t!� Jill replied.  �She�s only a 13-year-old girl, dear.�
         �Almost 14,� I advised them.  My titties had grown even bigger, too, 
as if to prove it, and I thrust them proudly at them, and gave them a quick 
wiggle just to be naughty.  I liked my new breasts.  Everywhere I went men 
seemed drawn to them, and Sam was no exception.  He gazed down at my 
tits, my bra doing less than a perfect job of holding them, having been 
bought when I was a size smaller.
         Sam noticed that my long hair might just block any perverts 
watching from the building�s windows and, taking a chance with me, he 
placed a finger where the cups of my bra met and pulled it open.
         �Sam!� I cried, quite surprised, slapping a hand to my cheek as he 
examined my quivering teats.
         �You have nice breasts,� he said finally, and let go of my bra.  It 
stung a little as it reconnected with my flesh.  Then, taking me by the 
hair, without even asking my permission, he pulled me up from my lounge 
chair.  He stood me in front of him, so that nobody but us could see.
         �Flurrie,� Jill said to me, a knowing look in her eyes.  I think she 
knew what her husband intended, and welcomed it.  �I�ve got too much 
jello in my panties.  Would you please take half of it in yours, so I don�t 
look totally foolish if we are seen going upstairs?�
         I felt Sam�s hands firmly grasping my small, tanned shoulders.  I 
was warm, I wanted to swim but I didn�t want to get my bikini wet.  
         �Okay,� I mouthed, not knowing why, feeling silly.  With delicate 
fingers Jill opened me in front and gently scooped a portion of the jello 
out of her bikini panties and into my own.  I felt the cold, jiggly slide of 
the stuff as it plopped within my opened panties and adhered to the curls 
of my pussy, making me bulge just like Jill did.  She let go of my 
waistline.  
         �Come, let�s go up,� she said, finding a napkin where the jello had 
sat, on a table beside her, and wiping her fingers.  She rose, Sam let go of 
me.  
         On the elevator up a middle-aged couple rode with us, glancing 
curiously at our bikinis.  Jill and I, having left our skirts upstairs that we 
might have used to cover ourselves, rode with blushing faces, unable to 
cover ourselves in front because Sam stood behind us.  He held our wrists 
pinned to our backs, and used our bodies to hide his own enormous 
erection, which actually protruded out the top of his trunks.
         I accompanied them to their apartment, though mine was a floor 
below theirs.  Jill took me inside, thanked me for carrying half of her load.  
She took me to their kitchen sink and carefully scooped out, with her 
fingers, what she�d put in my panties.  It was dumped in the sink, and 
rinsed away, while Sam watched.  His suit bound his balls tightly, which 
seemed to have expanded.  They bloated within his trunks, which struggled 
to keep his hard-on concealed but, failing, permitted the head to stick up, 
snake-like, the rest coiled within his trunks, practically ripping them 
apart with the force of its arousal.
         I in my turn emptied Jill�s new bikini of what Sam had put into it.
         �That was a very naughty thing you did, Sam, putting jello in my 
swimsuit!� Jill scolded him when we were as clean as we could be, the 
residue of the jello still clinging to the curls of our deltas.  She wagged 
her finger at him.  �Would you like to go out to dinner with us tonight, 
dear?� Jill asked me.
         �Okay,� I answered.  It was becoming my favorite word.  It got me 
into trouble, though, sometimes, I guessed.  
         �Alright, let�s take off your bikini then, and we�ll both clean up and 
get dressed for it,� Jill told me.  �Sam, naughty guy that he is, actually 
bought some things for you this morning to wear, hoping you�d go.  
Actually, I helped him, �cause I wanted somebody to go with me.  I won�t 
know anyone else there, but Sam will, because some of the girls he�s 
photographed before,� she cast a glance at him.  Jill was a model, and Sam 
was a photographer.  From the look that passed between their eyes I saw 
her question him, wondered if he�d laid any of the girls he�d taken pictures 
of.  Sam merely grinned, boyishly, a �boys will be boys� look in his eyes.  
         Jill helped me out of my suit.  She filled the kitchen sink with 
water, a few bubbles, and put our suits in to soak so they�d be ready to go 
for our next swim.  A trip through the washing machine would have ripped 
them to shreds, they were too delicate for that.  It was one of the reasons 
we just sunbathed in them.  Swimming in the pool too vigorously might 
have stressed them, and chlorine was supposed to be bad for them.  They 
were more fashion than practical, made of opaque silk, with elastic run 
through at the edges to help them stay on, but tied with drawstrings, as if 
we were gift-wrapped in them.
         Naked, with Sam drooling over us, we casually tossed our long manes 
of hair and trooped off to the shower.  Sam watched our rolling bottoms.  
Jill�s was full-grown, she was 19, a bride for three months now.  Mine, of 
course, was underaged in size, still childish in its shape, but with nice 
violin curves to my hips, not yet as wide as they might be, but pretty, 
with girlish cheeks behind that I swayed purposefully to catch Sam�s eye.  
It was thrilling to be seen by him!  I�d not been naked since Abandon 
Gardens, and I felt a kind of sweet relish possess me as I traipsed through 
the cool air of their apartment to the shower.
         Jill insisted on locking the bathroom door, so Sam would stay out.  It 
was just she and I, and we took turns showering.  It was all quite 
discreet, two girls washing up after P.E., it seemed to me.  I was glad for 
it.  The night beckoned with enough mysteries, I don�t think I could have 
handled an afternoon threesome.  It would have been too much, too soon.  I 
needed to get to know my new friends just a little better first, I thought, 
and they respected my wishes, sensing them even before I did.  Still, as I 
sat in the bathroom, making up my face after my shower, while Jill took 
her turn, I couldn�t help but squeeze my thighs together and wish, you 
know, that somehow Sam might insist on breaking down our bathroom 
door.  But he was the perfect gentleman.  When we exited at last, he took 
his turn, though he did not lock the door behind him.  
         Jill and I dressed together.  The first thing I put on, her helping me, 
were black lace gloves that tied at my wrists.  She undid the rawhide 
collar around my neck, cutting it off, saying that was my past life and it 
was over now.  She did not put any new collar on me, though.  I was to be 
free, my own girl.  Together she and I put on long sheer black stockings.  
We fastened them with the straps, which dangled down from our bellies, 
which we ringed with slim black garter belts.  The belts were fringed 
with lace.  The straps had little pink bows on them where they attached to 
our stockings.
         I slipped on a g-string.  Jill said I�d be grateful for it later, and put 
one on herself.  Lastly we both shimmied into the most liquid of dresses, 
with spaghetti straps, open backs, and decollete fronts that barely rose 
above the level of our breasts.  Obviously we were a little too �showy� to 
be seen like this on the street, so Jill fetched a cape and tossed it over my 
bare shoulders.  It was just long enough to cover the tips of my breasts, 
which wiggled freely in my gown.  She tied the cape neatly in front.  It 
was black like my dress, and my stockings.  The cape had a hood on it and 
she pulled it up over my long golden hair, tucking it inside.
         �There!  A picture of innocence!� Jill said admiringly.  I gazed at 
myself in a mirror.  Indeed, I looked like a little schoolgirl off to some 
formal party which, of course, is exactly what I was headed off too, 
though not one where the grownups would ignore me.  Jill put on a red 
satin jacket, with long sleeves, over her sleeveless gown.  Her gown was 
dark blue, while mine was midnight black.  My arms were bare under the 
cape, and stuck out all white and frail where the cape stopped, looking 
like porcelain limbs.
         Sam, who must have dressed himself in the bathroom, or just 
outside of it, stepped into their bedroom and greeted Jill and I.  He was 
ready to go!  He wore an elegant suit, looking absolutely smashing, and I 
saw he still had the bulge in his trousers.
         Sam gazed at me in a friendly way, but then turned his attention to 
his wife.  �Now you know what you�ll come home with,� he said to her 
seriously.
         �Oh dear,� she replied, looking taken aback.  �Can�t you, you know, 
reason with them?�
         �A tattoo,� he said firmly.  �All the girls will be getting one.�
         I shot a gaze toward Jill.  I wasn�t about to get myself tattooed!
         �Don�t worry,� Sam said to me, dismissively.  �You�re only 13.  I 
won�t have trouble talking them out of tattooing you.  But Jill here is a 
married woman.�
         �Where will it be done?� Jill asked.  Her eyes were apprehensive.
         �On the inside of your vulva, on the inner lip, a little heart,� Sam 
replied.  �Nobody will be able to see it but me.  And any other man you go 
to bed with...  It will show him that you�re mine, that you belong to me.  
And maybe then he won�t fuck you.�
         �Like you don�t fuck those girls you photograph?� she asked coldly.
         Sam said nothing.  Slowly he moved closer to us.  Jill a tear forming 
in her eye, daubed it at last with her finger.
         �Okay,� she said simply.  I stood shivering, frightened yet excited at 
the prospect of going out, to Rio�s best restaurant!  But under such queer 
circumstances, no?  Sam was such a stud.  He kissed Jill, then me.  He 
offered to fix her a drink to calm her.  She agreed.  We both found chairs 
for ourselves, primly crossed our legs, and waited while our Man of the 
Hour made drinks for both of us.  She gulped hers down, when it was 
brought.  I just sipped mine.  I didn�t like liquor too much, yet.  It made me 
dizzy.
         Jill seemed ready when at last she stood.  She took my hand and I 
stood up beside her.  Sam gazed out past the closed curtain of their 
bedroom and told Jill to bring her umbrella, there was a light rain outside, 
mingling with the rays of the setting sun.
         Jill put her arm protectively around me when we exited the building, 
and lofted her umbrella over me, to keep me from getting wet.  It mostly 
shielded her too, but me more, as if I was worth more, special, a loved and 
protected pet.  Sam strode behind, oblivious to the rain, though I had no 
doubt he�d have held their umbrella and shielded Jill with it if they�d been 
alone together.  But she wanted company, on a momentous night like this, 
even if it was just a junior girl like myself.  They were �on assignment,� 
both from New York, in unfamiliar waters, though Sam had made the 
acquaintance of a few of the local gals he was going to take Jill to eat 
with tonight.  Not all of them were from Brazil, some were in from Russia, 
or France, a collection of females and their boyfriends, or managers, I was 
told, all intermingling as they worked to get the photos necessary for the 
upcoming fashion season.
         �Two girls are here for Sports Illustrated,� Jill told me brightly on 
the way over, as we rode in the limo, the rain spattering the smoked glass 
of our windows.  �You might try that someday.  Already you have the figure 
for it!�  I smiled sheepishly.  She liked complimenting my figure.  I sat 
between her and Sam.  Jill seemed happy to have me separating her from 
him, considering what he�d have done to her tonight, after dinner.

30

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