Chapter 2

The gravel crunched comfortingly under the tyres as the little Peugeot stopped outside the cottage that Susie remembered so well. She smiled fondly at it through the windscreen as Sophie squealed in delight.

‘Oh Suze, it’s lovely, isn’t it? Just perfect. No wonder you liked it here so much.’

And Susie realised she had been talking about it in glowing terms for the last half hour - and that she’d meant every word.

The village atmosphere, the welcoming smiles, all of it seemed safe, secure and friendly. Even the vicar was only an amiable eccentric with a penchant for having sex with his female parishioners after he’d spanked them very soundly. It seemed a pretty harmless foible to Susie, as quaint as the village itself, a very British form of misbehaviour. She smiled a little at the recollection of his florid countenance. Then she remembered his admirably impressive equipment and the smile grew a little wider. Incredibly she felt a stirring below her waist, as if her body had remembered too, and was moistening in anticipation of renewing its acquaintance with his long, hard thickness...

Susie shook her head to clear it and tried to pay attention to what Sophie was saying.

‘How long can we stay here?’ she was asking wistfully, and Susie felt a flood of affection; Sophie was younger by a couple of years, had always seemed vulnerable, and had certainly been through the emotional mill just lately.

‘Oh, at least a week, I should think,’ Susie replied protectively as they climbed from the car. ‘It’ll probably take that long to get accepted again and get myself back on the invitation list to his private meetings.’ She smiled meaningfully and the two of them giggled together as they walked to the front door.

‘Then just one night of hard work?’ laughed Sophie, raising an eyebrow.

‘Well, hard in one sense, but not in another, if you see what I mean,’ said Susie, feeling again a fluttering below the waist as her body anticipated the sensations of the vicar’s attentions and prepared itself in readiness.

Concealing the sudden pang of desire, she joined in Sophie’s laughter and linked arms with her as they went inside, where Susie took a deep breath and felt herself relax. The journey down had been a cleansing process of sorts, but this was different; this was a homecoming, and Susie felt a deep sense of comfort from being back in this little cottage once again.

‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’ asked Sophie, concerned. ‘I mean, so soon after - well, you know.’

Susie did know exactly. ‘Yes,’ she sighed, ‘I do know. But it all seems so distant now.’ She was talking over her shoulder as she took Sophie into the neat spare bedroom. ‘This is yours.’

‘Oh, fabulous, and what a view!’ exclaimed Sophie in delight, and she was right. England looked delightful as it sprawled beyond the window, green fields dotted with piebald specks as the herds munched their peaceful way through another uneventful day where nothing much happened except the grass grew and the flowers blossomed in the bright sunshine.

‘Well, if there’s anything I can do to help...’

Susie smiled and embraced her sister. ‘You just rest and enjoy the scenery,’ she said, ‘and let your big sister get on with her job. No,’ she raised a hand to forestall the argument forming on Sophie’s lips, ‘honestly Sophe, I’ll be fine. After that lot back there,’ she jerked her head to indicate the general direction of the New Believers and the recent past, ‘after them, the spanking vicar of Kingscombe seems fairly harmless. Don’t worry, he’s just a cheerful old pervert. It won’t be a problem.’ She could tell Sophie was unconvinced and hurried on. ‘Apart from anything else, it’s my job. It’s what I do.’

Now she wasn’t entirely convinced herself. Nailing the New Believers had been a very necessary thing and she was glad to have done it. Luring a randy vicar onto the front page of a national newspaper for no crime worse than screwing a bunch of even randier women who were at least as keen to be shagged as he was to shag them... it hardly seemed like a worthwhile occupation, not a very worthy cause.

‘And the sooner I take care of the vicar, the sooner we can go home and take care of Hugh.’

Sophie frowned at the mention of his name, and then brightened at the prospect of revenge. ‘Yes, and I won’t let you do it without me,’ she said with feeling. ‘He’s the bastard that got me into all that trouble,’ she meant the New Believers, Susie knew, ‘and it’s time I got my own back. Although,’ and she gazed earnestly at her sister, ‘I don’t quite know how we’re going to pay him back.’

‘Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.’ Susie wasn’t as confident as she sounded. Hugh would be expecting a payback and he’d be ready for it; he was a devious so-and-so and he’d been ready before when Susie tried to catch him out. This time she’d have to be twice as clever, or offer him something so tempting he’d abandon caution in favour of selfish, egotistic greed. Luckily he wasn’t short of either characteristic, but the downside was that Susie could only think of one thing that would tempt him enough to override his strongest natural instinct, the one for self-preservation, and she wasn’t sure if Sophie was as ready for that as she thought she was. Sure, she was ready for revenge, but whether she could play the part of the bait with enough conviction, whether she could let Hugh come so far into the trap that he couldn’t escape - that was something else. Because to get him into that position meant Sophie would have to put herself in a difficult position too, almost certainly with her knickers down and her legs apart.

But despite her concerns, and her sudden, newfound discomfort over the job she was there to do, trapping the vicar, and despite knowing that doing so would almost certainly involve her dropping her knickers and spreading her legs, Susie was still glowing with the same inner calm she’d felt growing inside as they drew nearer and nearer the village, and still felt at home, happy to be in familiar surroundings, and the sensation was much enhanced when Sophie not only loved the cottage, but loved the village too.

They went for a walk, buying bread and milk, sugar and coffee, visiting different shops, saying hello, starting the cover story at once, introducing Sophie as the sister recovering from illness, which is what Susie had told everyone only a few weeks earlier when she’d set off on her quest to rescue Sophie from the New Believers.

It didn’t take long for the village grapevine to react, and the phone on the small table by the bay window of the little cottage was ringing inside the hour, and barely minutes later there was Stephanie, the woman who’d paved the way when Susie first arrived posing as Caroline, young newlywed minus a City husband. It was Stephanie who’d been the vicar’s closest ally, who had come to visit and sounded Susie out and made sure the vicar’s advances would fall on fertile ground, so to speak. All very polite and subtle, but pimping, nonetheless. And it seemed she still enjoyed the same privileged position within the flock, and still had the same responsibility for procuring recruits to it.

‘How are you, my dear?’ she quizzed, as she took the opening of the front door as an invitation and walked straight through into the little lounge, hardly awaiting the answer to her question before asking more. ‘What have you been up too... is your husband with you... oh, just your sister, I see, well you will be sure to bring her with you when you come - you are coming tomorrow night, it is Wednesday, after all...’

It was part question, part order, but Susie demurred. She didn’t want to rush into things. It wouldn’t do to be seen as too eager, and she’d hardly had time to recover from the journey and get the equipment ready, and in any case, she liked it in Kingscombe and wasn’t in a hurry to leave. If it took a few days to build up the relationship with the vicar again, then that was a few days rest for her as well as Sophie.

‘Don’t rush it,’ the editor had said, ‘take your time and don’t hurry.’ And Susie had every intention of following those orders to the letter.

Stephanie was fluttering around with apparent excitement, although Susie got the distinct impression that she was less pleased about Susie’s return than the vicar, and she remembered how jealously she’d guarded her special relationship with him - ‘Andrew’, as she constantly pointed out, thought of Stephanie as ‘essential’ to his work.

‘I bet he does,’ Susie said to Sophie after she’d gone, ‘who else is going to pimp for him the way she does?’ and they started giggling again.

And she had been doing that, enquiring almost without preamble if Susie would be going to church on Sunday and then re-stating the invitation to the vicar’s special meeting the following evening. ‘He is most anxious to know,’ she said, a wistful look in her eyes that mixed sorrow with something closer to jealousy, ‘and when he knows there are two of you... are you a churchgoer?’ she asked, turning suddenly to Sophie with a look that implied she’d give up ten years of her life if the answer was no, and concealing her disappointment at the affirmative by the narrowest of margins.

But she brightened visibly when Susie told her that Sophie was still recovering from illness, and probably wouldn’t be ready to leave the house for a week or so. ‘Well I expect the vicar will be upset. I’m sure he’d have been delighted if you’d both been able to come.’ She sniffed happily as she took her leave.

The two girls looked at each other and started laughing, and Susie was cheered at the sight of Sophie’s clear blue eyes alive with delight; the healing process had clearly begun. The laughter died and they looked at each other, before embracing, a firm clasp of love and friendship.

‘I love you,’ Susie whispered, and squeezed her sister, not quite sure what she meant exactly, and feeling Sophie’s uncertainty too as their lithe bodies moulded perfectly together, their slightly parted lips almost touching... and then Susie pulled away slightly, breaking the embrace.

‘So do I,’ said Sophie, and they both laughed again, clumsily trying to camouflage the embarrassment of the moment.

That evening they cooked together, watched TV and drank a bottle of wine before retiring to their rooms. Some time after midnight, wide-awake and unable to sleep, Susie heard her sister cry out.

It was probably a bit of a nightmare, she told herself, but went to check anyway.

‘Sorry,’ Susie whispered in the shadows, ‘didn’t mean to wake you, but I was worried. Thought you might be having a bad dream.’

‘Not while you’re here.’ Sophie held out her hand, and Susie took it as her sister raised the covers invitingly.

The vicar smiled benignly at them in the street next morning, roaming freely over Susie’s body with his eyes as he gushed platitudes, and then looking equally greedily at Sophie.

‘And this must be your delightful sister,’ he said, and once again Susie decided it was too complicated to explain that though they looked like twins and had been brought up in the same family for most of their lives, Susie was her mother’s daughter and Sophie her father’s, and they weren’t actually sisters in any sense but the genuine bond which had grown between them over the intervening years. ‘Better than sisters,’ they always said. ‘We’re friends because we want to be, not because we have to be.’

Instead she just nodded confirmation, and the vicar’s piggy little eyes glinted hungrily as he looked swiftly from one to the other, as if trying to choose between them, or decide which was the prettiest, hardly listening at all as Susie explained that her sister had come down to Kingscombe on doctor’s orders, to aid recovery from an unspecified illness.

‘I shall pray for you,’ he said, as if he was bestowing a divine blessing, holding Sophie’s hand in his. ‘In fact, I shall be delighted if you’d come along to my meeting this evening so I can minister to your needs in a more personal way.’ He stared at Sophie without a trace of shame in his rheumy eyes, affecting not to notice as Susie bristled at him.

‘That’s kind,’ said Sophie, allowing her hand to stay in his. ‘I do feel it would be nice to have someone looking after me.’

‘Oh, I shall take very good care of you,’ he assured her, ‘as I’m sure your sister will tell you,’ and Susie was amazed that Sophie had failed to spot the leer on his face or the noticeable growth in his trousers. ‘I’ll take that as yes then, shall I?’ he pressed, bustling on without waiting for an answer. ‘I look forward to seeing more of you later. Both of you,’ he said, turning the leer towards Susie.

As he walked away she almost stamped her foot in anger. ‘Oh, Sophie!’ she exclaimed. ‘Why did you have to encourage him?’

‘Me? I didn’t... well, all right, I suppose I did a bit,’ she admitted, without seeming particularly repentant. ‘But it’s like you said; he’s just a harmless old dodderer, really.’

‘Oh yes,’ snapped her sister, ‘a harmless old dodderer with a ten-inch prick and a vicious leather belt, both of which he’s planning to use on us later.’

‘But that’s what you came here for, isn’t it?’

‘It’s what I came here for, yes. But I don’t want you involved.’

‘Oh, come on, I can look after myself.’

‘You’re supposed to be resting, or whatever.’

‘I am rested.’

‘Well do some more of it.’

‘I’d rather help you.’

‘And I’d rather you didn’t.’

And they walked back to the cottage in silence.

Later, sitting in the cottage, Sophie said, ‘Look, I’ll just come along and keep an eye on you. Let him do his stuff with you - which is what you’d planned - and then afterwards we can just make our excuses and leave.’

Angry as she was, Susie couldn’t repress a smile.

‘You’re my sister as much as I’m yours,’ said Sophie, ‘and I want to take care of you as much as you want to take care of me. I’ll just be there to look after you.’

‘As long as you remember that, then,’ Susie conceded sternly, secretly touched by her sister’s care, and also relieved that she wouldn’t have to face the vicar alone.

‘You mean I can come?’

‘Yes,’ said Susie, and though she was pleased her sister would be with her, she was also worried that she might come to further harm. But after all, she mused as they prepared for the evening, he was just a harmless old codger - even if he did have a dick the size of her forearm. And once again she felt the pulse in her groin quicken and the temperature in her knickers increase.

That evening the two girls prepared for battle in much the same way as they had prepared when younger, when they went hunting together in the pubs and nightclubs around their home. It was a familiar ritual and it still had the same old connotations of excitement, and the tension in the cottage grew strong and palpable as the time grew nearer.

They began by washing with care, sharing the bathroom, comparing make-up, perfume and the implements of their hunting, soft brushes, sharp scissors and glittering tweezers, doing sisterly things for each other as they made themselves ready.

‘Help me with this,’ Susie asked, indicating between her legs and offering her razor.

Sophie hesitated, staring at the neatly shaped oval of pink flesh, at the soft lips uncurling slowly to reveal the glistening inner surfaces. She licked her lips, a swift, nervous flicker of her tongue, and then, still staring in fascination at Susie’s groin, she nodded uncertainly and knelt between the widespread knees, taking the razor from Susie’s hand. Hesitantly at first, and then with growing confidence, she began to shave the smooth curves, trimming up to the edges of the short-cropped triangle of blonde fuzz with a trembling hand.

Being so meticulous, Susie had been shaving between her legs for some time, leaving only a small V of soft curls. At first she’d merely been pleased with the fresh feel and appearance that resulted, but quickly discovered how much nicer it felt when she touched herself, which was at least once a day... if not twice or three times, in truth. Now, not only was she still pleased with the way she looked and felt, but she enjoyed the act of shaving for its own sake. The sensation of the razor scraping gently over her most sensitive skin was always delightful. And this evening, supplemented by Sophie’s fingers gently spreading and pulling, the pleasure was almost too much to bear, and Susie could feel the heat simmering between her thighs, knew that Sophie could not miss the slowly spreading lips and the warm liquid that seeped from within. And the wetter Susie became the more Sophie’s hands trembled, until at last she said in a shaky voice, ‘I’m done.’

‘Sit here and I’ll do you,’ offered Susie.

‘No, it’s okay.’

‘Go on, it’s much easier than doing it yourself.’ Sophie hesitated a moment longer. ‘It’s okay, I won’t cut you,’ Susie reassured.

There was a moment of stillness before Sophie nodded. ‘Okay,’ she whispered, and almost reluctantly, she took Susie’s place in the small chair and let her knees fall a few inches apart.

‘Come on, then.’

Still reluctant, she spread her thighs and Susie knelt between them, pushing her sister’s knees aside, and as she shuffled closer she saw why Sophie was so reluctant; if Susie had been aroused by Sophie’s ministrations, the effect was doubled on the younger girl. The soft pink lips were spread apart, glistening thickly with warm syrupy juices that sparkled and glistened as they trickled across her flesh, inviting - no, begging - a probing finger or tongue to slip inside where it was warm and dark. Sophie’s eyes were wide and apprehensive, awaiting a reaction.

Thinking rapidly, Susie lifted the razor and with two fingers held Sophie’s flesh, feeling the warm slickness, feeling her flinch away from the touch with a little gasp.

Then there was silence, apart from the soft rasping of the razor as Susie trimmed the short blonde hair away. The gentle pressure of her fingertips mingled with the tickling scrape of the blade, and each touch or stroke heightened the sensitivity between Sophie’s thighs, and a glittering trail of moisture ran from the lower curve of her opening, coating the taut skin of her bottom as she moaned softly in time with Susie’s steady strokes.

‘There,’ Susie said as she finished her work, brushing the last few stray hairs away tenderly. ‘You’re perfect. You look perfect and you feel perfect, too.’ Suiting action to words, she traced a finger to the outline of the glistening pink lips, and then found it slipping deeper and deeper, as if drawn by a power greater than gravity, until the humid softness clasped the elegant digit fully and Sophie sighed deeply.

Susie gazed dreamily as a second finger slipped in beside the first, spreading the softness wider, opening the little mouth that clasped and sucked as her two fingers stroked in and out. ‘Perfect,’ she whispered again. ‘Good enough to eat.’ Slowly she bent her head, lower and lower, until her mouth closed over Sophie’s hot, soft lips, feeling the tickle of the short blonde hair above and the secreting warmth of the moistness below.

‘Ahhh,’ Sophie sighed, as a clever tongue probed lovingly at the hard bud, and Susie began to suck gently, dropping the razor to the floor as her hands slid around Sophie’s body, grasping the firm bottom and pulling it towards her, lifting the molten honey pot to her hungry mouth as Sophie raised her knees and spread her thighs as wide as they would go, welcoming Susie’s busy tongue into her body.

Later, after Sophie’s whimpered squeals had drifted around the room and gradually subsided, the girls bathed and dressed, ready to meet the vicar.

At Susie’s instruction they dressed demurely, but Sophie especially so, since she was supposed to be keeping the low profile, entrusted with ensuring the tiny concealed lens was always pointing at Susie and the vicar. When Susie considered he’d done enough to be defrocked, hopefully before she suffered the same fate herself, they’d make their excuses and leave in the approved fashion. Sophie was somewhat peeved by her role in this, and peeved also to find that Susie had the coffee-coloured cashmere dress that was tight and clingy, and a bit too short, unavoidably revealing a glimpse of stocking when she sat down, easily revealing a flash of white silk if Susie chose, without making it appear deliberate.

Sophie’s clothes were plainer; a straight black dress that made her blonde hair glow, but down to the knee, and worn with low heels. To compensate for her lack of visible glamour when compared to her sister, she also put on black stockings, her own late addition to her wardrobe, along with black knickers and a sheer black bra that had an almost unbelievable effect on her already voluptuous proportions. It wasn’t that she planned to do anything naughty, just that she was going out with her sister and whatever the plan and however low-key her role was meant to be, Sophie just didn’t want to look anything less than her best. Or, in this case, less than Susie’s best.

Which was quite stunning. The tan dress was one thing, revealing more than it concealed as it clung to her shapely thighs, narrow waist and full breasts. But underneath Susie wore white, and if the purity of her underwear didn’t make the randy old sod jump on her, she’d thought earlier as she stood looking at her reflection in the mirror, then he was not the dirty old man she thought he was. Especially looking as good as she did, she reasoned, turning a little away from the mirror and easing her panty-clad bottom out provocatively, presenting two firmly rounded buttocks that were as peachy as peachy could be... even if she did think so herself.

With the handbag camera safely in Sophie’s control, loaded, tested and rolling with two hours of battery and tape, they set off towards the vicarage. Walking along the quiet village street, Susie felt the first twinges of trepidation, together with the first warnings from her body as it responded to fear in the usual way, with a warm seepage of moisture into the folds of flesh squeezed gently together by the embrace of white silk, that was steadily getting more damp and more see through with every step she took.