Gemma Bruce

Who Wants To Be A Sex Goddess?


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torrid sex with men young enough to be their grandsons.

      “What kind of film?” asked Andy, imagining Bad Girls of Carthage.

      They’re showing Roman Holiday tonight. Followed by more dessert and coffee,” said Evelyn.

      “They feed us so much, you’d think we were training for chubby cherubim instead of goddess.” Andy clapped a hand over her mouth. That was stupid. Never try to join in the fun; it will catch you out every time.

      The other three stared at her for a second, then smiled simultaneously.

      “I just love Gregory Peck,” said Loubelle. “Such a gentleman.”

      “Yes,” said Evelyn. “Even when playing a scamp. They don’t make them like that anymore.”

      Loubelle sighed. “They sure don’t. The way he looks at Audrey Hepburn just makes you know he loves her.”

      Yoo-hoo. He’s an actor, thought Andy. Not real. A big phony. And was shocked by her reaction. She always dated actors. And they were all big phonies. She really did need to get a life. Not with an actor and not with a stuntman like her family wanted. Stuntmen were macho, unreliable, easily threatened by stuntwomen, and there was always the possibility they’d get a head injury and end up a vegetable. Not a rosy future.

      And even worse, she was lusting after a man who made a living dressed as a Greek slave and catering to lonely women. Where were the good, stable, bread-earning men, who did dishes and gave eternal orgasms?

      “Well, you can have your gentlemen. I’ll take the scamps.” Jeannie leaned down by her chair and brought up two bottles of wine from her carryall. “Do you indulge? We do. Every night.”

      “Yes,” Andy said, then remembered her pitiful self. “A little.”

      “Good.” Jeannie lifted her chin and Demetri sauntered over. He uncorked the wine and made a big to-do over handing the cork to Jeannie. She smelled it, then tasted the wine and nodded. He filled the other glasses and left the bottle on the table.

      “Well,” said Jeannie, when he’d gone away. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to tell from smelling a cork, but since I bought it, I figure it’s gotta be good.” And she held up her glass for a toast.

      Dinner got a lot better with a 1964 Greysac Medoc. Andy regretfully limited herself to one glass.

      “Do the slaves and staff watch the movies, too?”

      “Not usually—they really do work like slaves. They can either join us or have free time,” said Evelyn. “The staff always has a debriefing session at night.”

      Hmmm, thought Andy. The stairs would save a lot of wear and tear on her toga. She’d give it another shot. “I think I will have some more,” she said and pushed her wineglass toward Jeannie.

      The movie began shortly after dinner. As soon as the lights went down and the theme music began, Andy leaned over to Loubelle, who was sitting next to her.

      “Bathroom. Back in a bit.”

      Loubelle nodded, her eyes on the screen. She was already lost in celluloid idol land. Andy crawled over the two goddesses at the end of the aisle and slipped out the door—right into Carmen and Jane.

      They were arguing so heatedly that they didn’t even see her.

      “…stealing my trainee,” Carmen snarled Jane rolled her eyes. “Dr. Bliss brought her.” She smiled and Carmen turned redder. Andy froze in the doorway until they had climbed the stairs and their hissed conversation died away.

      Then she followed them. She stopped at the top of the stairs in time to see the two acolytes go into a classroom. The door closed behind them. The staff meeting. Andy looked quickly around, saw no one else. Listened. Nothing but the din of clearing away from the dining room below.

      She scuttled past the door of the staff meeting and started down the hall. When she reached the AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL sign, she hesitated, then looked around the corner. The corridor was dark except for a lone auxiliary light at the far end which illuminated a second staircase. The business section had closed for the night.

      She walked slowly toward the light, trying to keep her footsteps from sounding. Paused to read the sign on the first door.

      ETERNAL ORGASM, APPOINTMENTS ONLY. She had to stifle a laugh. Next came the Staff Room, and on the left Dr. Bliss’s personal office. At last she came to the Business Office. She tried the knob. It didn’t budge.

      Andy sighed. It looked as if she’d be using that grappling hook after all.

      A sudden noise made her snatch her hand away. She cocked her head, listening. Someone was coming up the back stairs, more than one person. She could hear them laughing.

      She whirled around, but there was no place to hide. She began running back down the hallway, though she knew she’d never make it before they saw her.

      She was two-thirds of the way down when she ran into something hard. She registered skin and chest hair. She grimaced and pushed away.

      Of course. Her life was under a cloud. Dillon Cross folded his arms over his scrumptious chest and looked down at her. Then he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall.

      She only had time to think, trapped, before his body crushed hers and his arms pinned her to the wall. She tried to release her knee, though a kick to the groin wouldn’t get her very far; she didn’t have the leverage. She could hear footsteps echoing down the linoleum, approaching rapidly.

      “Relax,” he ordered.

      Andy blinked. “The hell I will.”

      She saw the flash of his grin before his lips came down on hers.

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