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Disclaimer: Phillip Marlowe and the Halliwell sisters aren't my characters.
I just mixed them up with a couple of mine for some fun.

Codes: F/F; M/F; voyeurism.

Charmed: Part 1 - Desire And Deception
by Professor Moriarty

I had come back from an unspectacular lunch to my office, picked up the mail
downstairs and was sorting through it by my desk. I had raised the window and
was listening to the Cardinals trying to mount a late rally on the Reds when
the two young ladies first strolled into my world. They stopped and knocked
on the glass of the open door to the outer part of the office. "Mr. Marlowe?"
one of them called, in a smooth voice, nicely resonant. A contralto, it's
usually called.

"In here" I called back and they came through the door and made for the
second door to the inner office, which was also wide open. They came in
together, and that was just how they should looked. Together. Although
different in some surface respects, they were obviously related. Both
short, beautiful and well-built. Both also dressed to the nines. These
weren't average girls off the street. My interest began to swell.

The darker one stepped forward and extended a hand, which I took and shook
gently. "My name is Phoebe Halliwell and this is my sister Paige." She looked
like a Gypsy, expecially since I noticed a tattoo of some sort on her wrist,
peeking out under her sleeves. I had never seen a Gypsy so well dressed.
(Actually, I'm not sure I've ever seen a Gypsy...) The other one (she looked
like Esmerelda's cousin ) also shook my hand and nodded, with a small,
friendly smile, then both sat down. I nodded to both and asked how I could
help.

I got a fairly long story about a roommate of theirs and her missing sister.
They came prepared with all the specs, a nicely organized file and two crisp
$100 bills, which would pay my fee for a fair time. I took the case and told
them I would be in touch. Both smiled beautifully and rose to leave. I noted
again that both were built well. Hourglass figures that curved in all the
right places. Phoebe wore a baby blue suit, with a skirt that was maybe a
size too small. An effect that I always tend to appreciate.

Paige wore a cream-colored suit that set off her reddish hair and smooth
skin. Her eyes were a deep, lustrous brown, like Phoebe's, set a little
lower on her face. It made her look like a very pretty owl, or one of
those porcelain dolls that rich little girls still play with. I resisted
the temptation to tell her she looked like a pre-Raphaelite painting, but
the image stayed with me the rest of the day, as did Phoebe's prominent,
warm smile.

In my line of work, you see beautiful women all the time. Usually, their
beauty is not the kind that sinks very far into them, but these two seemed
quite on the level and really sweet. I would keep my guard up a little extra
around them.

THE DAY BEFORE:

"You were actually IN "Kill It Before It Dies"?

"Yes..." replied Phoebe. "And Billy as out here for a while too. Not long
enough..." She had always regretted never having a chance to actually have
Billy fuck her. She had wanted that for so long...

"Prue got stuck in a painting once..." Phoebe said and laughed out loud at
the look that Paige gave her.

Paige was just getting the buttons of her waist coat done and she looked up
at Phoebe in disbelief over this last anecdote and saw that Phoebe hadn't
managed to get much of her outfit on. She had the Royal blue garter belt on
and one stocking clasped, pulling the other one up, but that was about it.
The blue underwear really complimented Phoebe's dark skin, but at the moment
there was a little too much skin for Paige's liking. "Put the panties on! I
don't need to see your fur all out in the open like that!"

Phoebe grinned wickedly at her sister and finished hooking the stocking. She
got up and walked over to the fully dressed Paige with her round ass and dark
pussy open to the air, not to mention her gently bobbing breasts. She walked
right up to Paige and kissed her on the cheek. "Relax, honey. I never wear
much underwear." Looking down, she said "This look is great for me."

"Would you just humor me, please?" said Paige.

"All right..." replied her sister. "Panties, but that's IT." Phoebe walked
back over to the bed, bent over at the waist almost all the way to the floor
and picked the blue tap pants off of the floor. Her smooth pink vulva was
displayed to Paige from the rear angle she saw Phoebe from, and she felt an
almost-involuntary shudder of excitement at this forbidden sight. "I really
admire her comfort with her own body..." mused Paige to herself. "She knows
she's beautiful and doesn't mind if we all know it, too."

Paige had taken Phoebe out shopping that morning to pick up items from a
new store that was a few blocks away from the Manor. A place called The Blue
Parrot, it catered to aficionados of 40's fashion and culture. Each had
bought a vintage outfit and a few other items and they were now back home,
having a look. Phoebe had picked up a small Art Deco radio, with a smooth
wooden cabinet that she had put in a prominent place on her desk. Paige's
extra purchases had been several books, of different styles. A Raymond
Chandler story collection, a copy of Sandburg's Abraham Lincoln bio, and
(largely as a lark) several Lesbian-themed paperbacks, with lurid titles and
rather attractive artwork.

Phoebe pulled the pants up and over her smooth ass and Paige again marveled
at her sister's effortless grace. She stepped into the skirt and asked Paige
to help her with the zipper. Then, smiling wickedly over her bare shoulder,
she walked slowly over to where the matching blouse was folded neatly over
that back of a chair, and slipped it on, one sleeve at a time. As she
buttoned it up, she asked Paige to turn around and give her the full view.
Paige pirouetted slowly, holding her hands out at her sides and twirling her
wrists in a mock-royal gesture of presentation. "So, do you like?" she said,
half-mockingly.

"Oh, yes. It's very you." replied Phoebe, with a trace of real admiration
under the gentle tone of mockery that the sisters were employing with one
another. "You really have a feel for the era, sweetie. You were born too
late."

"As cool as this is", Paige said, "I don't think I'd want to dress like this
every single day. It's kind of confining. This garter belt is drivin' me
nuts." Phoebe snorted with laughter and said "Yeah, but guys love those."

"I'll take your word, Miss Underwear Expert." replied Paige, scrunching up
her nose is a gesture of mild amusement.

"So you guys didn't dress up when you went into the movie?" Paige asked.

"No, we didn't have time. It was all really quick. It's pretty weird suddenly
seeing the whole world in black and white..." Phoebe replied.

"Kind of like Bill O'Reilly?" offered Paige, which elicited a literal groan
from her sister and a peal of delighted laughter from Paige.

Paige picked up the Chandler book and held up the volume for Phoebe to see.
"Have you ever read him?" she asked.

"I read 'Farewell My Lovely' in 20th Century American Lit. It was cool..."
Phoebe replied, letting the sentence trail off in a way that showed that her
enthusiasm was only mild.

"I love him, myself..." offered her sister. "He's a big part of the reason
that I'm so into the era. I also like Hammett. He's probably cooler for
someone who loves around here."

"Yeah, that's right. Most of his stuff is set in San Francisco, isn't it?"
asked Phoebe, jarring the memory loose from it's hiding place in her brain.

"Yep. He's cool, but the Noir streets of L.A. are where I love to prowl" said
Paige, slipping into her faux-Shadow voice.

Phoebe took one of the other books from the table and grinned at the lurid
title ("The Deviant Debutantes") and the enjoyably sexy, campy artwork. Two
college girls, one blonde and one brunette, were changing out of their
sweater n' skirt combos in what seemed to be a dorm room. Both had hungry,
horny looks on their faces. "This is nice..." she offered.

"Oh, Lesbian genre fiction, yeah. Mostly catering to guys so they could
masturbate while getting a glimpse of the Forbidden Passion." replied Paige,
in a matter of fact tone.

"Nice...thanks for the imagery." said Phoebe, rubbing her thumb over the
cover and finding no obvious evidence of Paige's hypothesis.

"Oh, I'm sure plenty of real Lesbians read them, too. No 'Ellen' back then."

"You're making it sound better and better," Phoebe said.

"This was a time where we've never been." said Paige.

"It would be good to see it again..." replied Phoebe.

A split second too late it hit her that the rhyme would constitute a spell
and she looked up at Paige, wide eyed.

Paige saw the look, and then, as the room began to fade, realized what had
happened. "Oh, fuck...what's gonna happen now?" she said. Phoebe looked down
at her disappearing form and grabbed Paige's hand. "Let's stick together, at
least." Just before they faded completely from view, Paige smiled and looked
at her sister. "This is the sort of thing that I usually cause..."

Both couldn't help but laugh, with an undertone of nervousness.



THE NOIR STREETS OF L.A.:

The two lovely witches materialized in a short alleyway, not too terribly
dirty, and (luckily), empty of anyone else.

"Are you okay?" asked Phoebe, touching her sister on the shoulder for
reassurance.

"Yeah, I feel fine...considering. Uh...where the hell are we?"

Phoebe looked down the alley at the small slice of the street visible from
their vantage point. It was about the same time of day it had been in San
Francisco just a moment before, but there was an undeniable change. Two cars
that could be seen parked were of a decidedly antique vintage, with rounded
off hoods and shining whitewalls, and the frequent passersby were dressed in
clothing of a similar style. "I think 'when' is a better question...." said
Phoebe.

As they walked slowly down the alley, Paige noticed that they each had
somehow acquired a smart-looking handbag. "Wait...what's in here?..." They
both stopped and rummaged around, each finding a wallet with a fairly large
amount of vintage U.S. cash (Paige was delighted to discover several $2
bills), old style makeup and, most interestingly, a driver's licence for
each, complete with their real names and expiration dates in 1949.

Paige said "These are California licences, so..."

"At least we know roughly where and when we are..." replied Phoebe.

"Is there a reason we've been sent here? Are we supposed to help someone?"
asked Paige. Phoebe shook her head. "This is all because we accidentally
blundered into casting a spell. Maybe we can try to reverse it."

"Why don't we call Leo, and see if he can help?" offered Paige.

"It's worth a try. I'm not sure if he'll hear us..." Phoebe's voice trailed
off.

Each said, as loudly as possible, without drawing attention to themselves,
Leo's name. They repeated it several times, to no avail.

"We need to get out of this stupid alley and get somewhere so we can think."
said Phoebe.

"Let's take a walk and find a hotel. At least we're dressed for it." said
Paige, with an unmistakable sound of enjoying the situation, at least a
little.

"You're nuts, you know that don't you?" offered her sister.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway, dontcha, sis?" said Paige, and leaned in to
kiss her older sister on the cheek, and slip her left arm around her waist.

They had made it nearly to the end of the alleyway, when the familiar sound
and blue column of light of Leo's materialization sounded behind them. They
turned around to see their Whitelighter brother in law in a non-descript pair
of jeans and a button down workshirt, with his name sewn in an oval on the
chest.

Both hugged him quickly and stepped back, Phoebe
giggling at the nametag. "Nice threads there, Bud."
she said, which caused both sisters to laugh aloud.
"Ha, ha. Very funny. I wore this kind of outfit a lot
back in this era. Do you guys know where you are?" he
asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Sometime in the later 40's, from the look of things."
offered Paige, looking around at the larger chunk of
the street now visible to them closer to the alley's
mouth. "Yeah, well...sort of." said Leo, cryptically.
"What's the big deal, Leo?" asked Phoebe. "It's not
like we haven't been farther back than this before."
"Speak for yourself..." murmured Paige, which got her
a mock-angry, narrowing of the eyes from Phoebe.

"Guys, this is serious. You're not just back in
time...you're in a fictional realm." "What do you
mean?" Phoebe asked. "What realm?"

"I had a little bit of a hard time tracking you down,
which is why it took me a minute to respond. The
Elders helped me out, and gave me the camouflage..."
he said, looking down at the grease monkey outfit.
"Just to blend in better. From what they can tell,
you've projected yourselves into a combination of the
Los Angeles of Chandler's books, and the unnamed city
of that other "Dirty Debutants" book."

"That's 'Deviant Debutants'." Paige piped in.

"Whatever."

"So, why don't you just take us out of here, or Paige
can orb..." offered Phoebe. "Um, actually...I can't."
said Paige, regretfully.

"But...HE can!" said Phoebe, strained emphasis in her
voice. "You two are here because of a spell of your
own making. I can't help you leave." said Leo.

"You'll be returned when the story plays out. It might
help if you actively projected yourself into the plot
to help move it along. And apparently, your spell has
combined elements from both realities into one,
so...you're kind of in new territory. The Elders don't
think it should last more than a few days, relative
time." Leo added.

Phoebe's mouth dropped open and she struggled to
speak. Seeing her distress, Paige chirped in and said
"Oh, c'mon, Phoebs. It'll be a blast." Phoebe looked
hard at her and said, low and clear "I'll blast YOU."

"Nice Dorothy Parker murmur there, sis." Paige said,
after a second.Phoebe turned to Paige. "So, tell us,
Black Dahlia, how does the story end?"

"She died in a fairly gruesome way, y'know...besides,
it's more like Red Dahlia these days..."

"Paige!"

"I don't know. This could be any story. I haven't read
them all."

"Won't we run the risk of altering the book's story?"
asked Phoebe. "I don't need 'Ruining a Piece of
Classic Literature' added to my resume."

"They way they imparted it to me, this is just a
single, stand alone version of the story. A new one is
created in every new reader's mind when ever they read
the book. Millions of them have existed over the
years, and this is just another one, so there's no
permanent damage to be done. They're calling me back.
Take care and don't call unless it's an emergency.
I'll let Piper know where you are..." Leo said as her
faded out.

"She's going to shit a brick..." said Phoebe. "I'll
give you one big guess who she'll blame..." noted
Paige, sadly.

"No way, babe. I'll set her straight." Phoebe
reassured her. "Let's go get someplace to stay."

AN HOUR LATER:

The two wayward witches looked around for a bit at the
sights of post-war L.A., with Paige getting even more
excited, and Phoebe eventually relenting and going
more with the flow. "Actually", she thought, "when you
get down to it...this could be sort of interesting."

She had already learned that there were streetcars in
the city then. As they rode uptown, after paying a
nickel each, she asked Paige what had happened to
them, and her sister told her that a consortium of gas
and rubbber companies had conspired to run them down
and make way for the emerging automobile culture.
Phoebe gave her a long look and said, dryly, "Thanks,
so much, Agent Scully..."

They got off at a four-way intersection and stopped
for lunch at a diner on the corner called The Whistle
Stop.

Settling into a booth, they took the leather bound
menus, which had tassles at the binding. ("Nice touch"
thought Phoebe.) A moment's perusal told them it was a
different world. "I'm going to have one hell of a time
getting something here that won't kill me..." remarked
Phoebe. "Just have some toast, or a roll..." offered
Paige. "I'm going to live dangerously, and order some
ham and eggs."

Phoebe looked over the menu at her and said "Getting
into the swing of things, eh, Miss Carnivore?"

"When in Los Angeles, do as the Angelinos do." said
Paige, with a hint of the satisfaction she was feeling
at fitting in so well.

They ordered from the petite blonde waitress and Paige
slipped out of the booth, heading for the door. "Where
the hell are you going?" Phoebe asked. "I saw a news
stand outside, and I want to see a paper, so we can
get some idea where we're going to stay."

She fished some change out of the vintage
("Contemporary, really..." she thought to herself)
handbag and slipped out the door, walking about ten
paces to the corner kiosk where the guy was selling
numerous papers, magazines and small candies and
(again, a jarring reminder of the times) a lot of
cigarettes.

"What can I do for ya, doll?" asked the ruddy faced
guy behind the counter. Paige was momentarily taken
aback at his forwardness, but found after a second
that she was sort of pleased at the rough compliment,
and could tell from the middle aged newsie's face that
he hadn't meant it as a jab.

"I need a copy of..." she looked down, "...today's
'Times'". She picked it up, and saw the price
prominently listed. She gave him a dime, and after he
winked at her, she smiled wryly and turned around to
make her way back toward the diner.

As they ate their late breakfasts, (Phoebe going with
two rolls with real butter and Paige going in for the
Ham and Egg plate, both with coffee...), they each
took a page of the classifieds, looking for local
hotels or rooms for rent for a short term.

"We need to get some more clothes. This silky blouse
is making my nipples hard." said Phoebe. "Everything
makes your nipples hard." commented Paige, tartly.

"I know you played with my titties when we switched
bodies, don't bother to deny it." said Phoebe.

"Well...only a little... they were the first ones
other than mine that I'd ever seen from that angle. It
was fascinatiing." Paige replied, meekly.

"Okay, this is just too weird..." said Phoebe. "Let's
go pick up a new outfit or two and then try this
place." She indicated a print ad she had circled that
promised a hotel for women only, called the Carlton.
"When did you get so fastidious?" inquired Paige. "We
don't need the distractions. We need to figure out why
we're here and get it the hell over with." said
Phoebe.

After picking up a couple of new outfits each, ("Even
stuck in the past, women love to shop..." observed
Paige), the two gorgeous anachronisns took another
nickel ride to the semi-suburban location of the
Carlton. "All girl places weren't uncommon then" said
Paige. "Decorum sort of demanded seperate hotels for
long term stays."

"Just like 'Bosom Buddies'" added Phoebe, wryly. It
was a mixed neighborhood of small businesses, hotels
and a few residences. No buildings were over three
stories. The overall effect was quaint and
comfortable.

After checking in, and paying for a week's stay in
advance, the two sisters tucked their packages under
their arms and walked up the stairs to their room.

Phoebe immediately began stripping off her clothes as
soon as the door was closed. "I have to have a bath."
she said. Paige sat down on the bed, after taking her
own jacket off, and watched as her sister quickly
unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. Phoebe was
right: her nipples were teased to a point of livid
arousal. "Should've worn a bra there, Xaviera
Hollander." opined Paige, with a tone of gentle
reproach.

"I like my nipples hard, thank you very much." replied
Phoebe. She unzipped and pushed down her baby blue
skirt, stepped out of it and slipped out of the
panties in a quick motion. She headed to the bathroom,
with Paige surreptitiously enjoying the firm, smooth
sway of her sister's round ass as it receded from
view.

Phoebe turned on the water and sat on the edge of the
big freestanding tub in order to slip the stockings
and garter belt off. After removing the stockings, and
unclasping the belt, she poured some bath salts into
the steaming water, and whisked her hand back and
forth to start the soap bubbles going. Paige came to
the door and leaned on the jamb.

"What do we do now?" she asked. "Well, I get clean and
maybe a little relaxed", commented her beautiful
sister, who slipped one leg over the lip of the tub,
then gently lowered her bare bottom, hips and torso
into the hot water, sighing gently as she came to a
full rest at the bottom of the tub. Phoebe began to
use her palms to coat her shoulders and breasts first
with water, then with soap.

Paige looked up and noticed a booth style shower, with
room for one occupant. "Do you mind?" she asked
Phoebe, indicating the shower. "No, sweetie, not at
all. Knock yourself out." Paige stripped out of her
outfit at a leisurely pace, getting down to her bra,
panties and garter belt, and then sitting on the
wooden seat of the ceramic toilet in order to remove
the stockings.

"We need to hook up with Marlowe sooner or later..."
she observed. "Yeah, I wonder how we're going to
figure into his caseload?" mused Phoebe, still
caressing her legs, from the thighs down to the knees
under the soapy water. "And what about the Dirty
Debs?" she asked, in a lighter tone.

"I won't be surprised to see them somewhere soon.
Maybe when we go out to eat." said Paige, standing up
and slipping off her brief pastel pink underpants.
"I still can't get used to you having such a red
pussy." said Phoebe. "That was one thorough spell..."

Paige looked down, then slowly and gently ran her hand
from bottom to top of the auburn triangle. "I like it
like this..." said Paige. "It's got character." Phoebe
let out the throaty giggle that was such an important
part of her appeal and even Paige had to smile, as she
reached back behind her back to undo the clasp of her
brassiere, letting it fall to the clean tile floor.

She pinned her hair up and after reaching into to turn
on the water and adjust the temperature, stepped
behind the clear glass door and began bathing her body
in hot water. Phoebe watched with real interest as her
sister threw herself into the ritual of cleaning.

Paige had such a similar body to her's that it was
clear to almost everyone at first blush that they were
related. Phoebe had also always enjoyed the
differences, subtle and obvious alike, between them.

Aside from their obviously dispirate complexions, the
contrasts became less easily seen. Their breasts were
a similar size, but Phoebe's areolas were far bigger
and rounder, almost the size of fifty cent pieces.
Paige, on the other hand, had small tight circles
topping her generous breasts. Unknown to either, the
sisters had admired each other's nipples and envied
their owner.

As Paige lathered up her belly and hips, Phoebe
slipped her hand, as slowly and unobtrusively as she
could, between her thighs and began rubbing her
swelling vulva. She knew she couldn't actively
masturbate, but she was going to get as close as she
could without actually doing it.

She tried to hold her shoulder as still as possible,
in order not to tip Paige off. She needn't have
worried, because her sister was nearly oblivious to
her surroundings and hadn't noticed a thing. Phoebe
gently played the first three fingers her right hand
along her slit, caressing the outer labia and finding
the folds between it and the inner set. She continued
stroking herself gently until Paige rinsed off and cut
the water off.

Reluctantly, Phoebe slipped her hand back along her
inner thigh, along her belly and up out of the water.
Fullfillment would have to wait for at least a little
while.

Paige toweled herself off slowly and completely, and
then wrapped the towel around her hips, leaving her
upper torso bare. She padded over the cool tile floor
and picked up her semi-formal outfit and bundled it
up. She also grabbed Phoebe's discarded stockings and
added them to the pile. She sashayed out of the
bathroom and began to unpack the
tied-with-a-string-bow of her heaveily wrapped brown
paper package and assemble the outfits she had just
bought. One was a cream colored suit, much like the
one she had just shed and there was also a more casual
light blue pullover and a pair of white dress pants.
She seleceted this second outfit and began
methodically dressing.

She called to Phoebe, "Why don't we go take a look
around and see what's up?" "I want to stay in the tub
until I'm all pruny..." replied her older sister.
"Aw...I don't want to go all by myself..." said Paige.
with a mock whine in her voice. "All right, all
right...give me a second..." said Phoebe.

As Paige finished, Phoebe came around the corner,
wearing only a towel wrapped on her head. "Where are
we going?" she asked.

"Just out, do a little recon..." said Paige. "I guess
this isn't going to end all by itself, is it?" said
Phoebe, rhetorically. She quickly dressed in a
similarly sporty outfit, and decided that her hair was
dry enough. They set out to look for some idea on how
they should handle this predicamant.

They walked to the end of the carpeted hall and
stepped into the brass-gated elevator, which they
closed and pulled the lever to take them down to the
lobby level. They stepped out together and took in the
sight of the wide, plush sitting room that gave off of
the front desk and lobby area. Several couches and
many soft chairs were spread around the room at
comfortable intervals. several of the chairs were
occupied by ladies of a similar age as the Halliwell
sisters. As Phoebe scanned the room, Paige laid eyes
on a striking blonde with short, curled hair. She had
flawless skin, deep blue eyes and a direct, but very
friendly gaze. She looked at Paige and offered a warm
smile and then realization dawned on the young witch.
"Uh, Phoebs...it's the Sapphic Betty, I think..." she
said, returning the young girl's smile and trying not
to have it be too obvious that she was talking about
her.

Phoebe turned and said "Whe..." and stopped as she
saw. "She's so beautiful..." she said softly, and then
trailed off. She turned to look at Paige and said,
"Well...should we just take the bull by the horns?" "I
think so. Directly is probably our best bet here, I
think..." replied Paige.

They both took deep breaths and started across the
room to where the blonde was occupying a chair,
looking at a folded over newspaper. Neither one had
really thought aof any opening remark to start the
conversation, but they were saved by the girl herself,
who rose gracefully from the armchair and extended her
hand.

"I'm Ursula." she said, wih a pleasingly mellow voice.
"You're the new tenants on 2. I have the room next
door, we saw you coming in."

"I'm Phoebe and this is my sister Paige", offered the
elder sister. "Oh, sisters..." she answered, with a
small but unmistakeable note of disappointment in her
voice. "It's so nice to meet you. Would you like to
join me? My friend Elizabeth will be back in a few
minutes."

Paige and Phoebe again looked at each other and then
back to Ursula and nodded sweetly. They all sat at an
adjoining table, where it was obvious that the two
roommates had been sitting for a while this morning.
There were two teacups with saucers, half full, and
small remnants of some cookies. "Hang on just a
second, and I'll get some more." said the well built
blonde, again flashing her dazzling smile.

After she picked up the cups and the teapot and took
them away, Paige looked at Phoebe, widened her eyes
and said "Okay...what now, Nancy Drew?"

Phoebe calmly relpied "We need to draw her out and see
if she has a story to tell. Something that might
connect us." She had obviously given it some thought.
Ursula returned with a fresh pot of steaming tea, four
cups and another assortment of small butter cookies.
She sat down and said "So, why are you girls here in
Los Angeles?"

"Phoebe took the initiative and replied "We're here
visiting our sister and her husband. They have a new
baby."

"Ahh...very nice." she replied.

"What about you?" Paige asked. "Do you live here
full-time?"

"Yes. Elizabeth and I both work in the secretarial
pool at City Hall. We met when we were in college, at
Vassar."

As Phoebe nodded, she raised her cup to her lips,
blowing on the tea to cool it and taking a sip. Ursula
caught sight of Phoebe's wrist tattoo when her
polished teak bracelet slipped a little. "Wow...that's
a beautiful tattoo...may I see it?" she asked, a note
of real awe in her voice. Phoebe slid her hand across
the tablecloth and turned it over, wrist up, for the
blonde to see.

Ursula looked at her and saw Phoebe glancing to her
left, toward the rest of the room. She said "Don't
worry, I won't make a big deal of it..." and smiled in
a way that melted Phoebe's heart and told her that the
girl was sincere.

She looked closely at the artwork, tracing her fingers
along the design with a light, silky touch. Her eyes
never left the design, so she didn't see Phoebe biting
her bottom lip, trying to conceal the mild (but
deepening) arousal that her touch was inspiring. Her
disconcertment was noticed by her sister Paige, who
found it very amusing to watch Phoebe try and pretend
that the girl's velvety fingertips were having no
special effect on her.

Phoebe happened to look up and see the amusement
written all over Paige's face, and she made a gesture
at her, by widening her eyes, that communicated "Just
shut up!" and also "I am NOT getting wet."

Ursula looked up at Phoebe and said "Are you from
Australia, or the South Pacific?" "No, I'm Italian,
actually." Phoebe replied. "Forgive my forwardness,
but you just don't see many American girls with body
art. I think it's very brave of you. It's definitely
beautiful."

"Well, we believe letting people live their lives."
Paige piped in. "Really...that's good to know." said
Ursula, turning her lovely smile on the younger
sister.

After a few more minutes of pleasant conversation,
Elizabeth returned to the hotel, and walked over to
where they were sitting. She was dressed in a formal
suit, with a jacket. She was about the same height as
Ursula, with similarly piercing blue eyes, but had
very dark hair and a paler complexion. She looked a
little preoccupied but was very polite to the two
newcomers who were sharing tea with her lover.

"Betsy! Please join us." said Urusula. She introduced
Elizabeth to her two new friends and they all took one
another in. Several other people gathered around the
lounge, including a few men (who were allowed into
this room and no farther), were beginning to notice
that there was quite a collection of beauties gathered
at this one single table.

"Any luck?" asked Ursula, indicating the file that
Elizabeth had carried in with her, and laid on the
table in front of her. "No, not really. I can't find
anyone who wants the case."

Phoebe and Paige both perked up, and Paige took the
initiative by asking "What's the problem?"

Elizabeth looked at her somewhat doubtfully, then
looked at Ursula, seeking a judgement on whether or
not she should include them in. "Maybe we can help..."
offered Paige, in a tone she hoped would sound
solicitous. Ursual smiled and nodded to her lover and
said "I think perhaps they can help us."

Elizabeth said "It's my sister, Catherine. She's been
missing for months now. Before she disappeared, she
sent me some strange letters. She's a confused girl,
and I'm really worried about her. We think she's
involved with some sort of guru, north of the city. We
want to find out, but no one seems to want to take the
case. We've asked several private investigators, but
they all seem to think we're just a couple of quaint
little girls who should run along and make cookies."

Phoebe sensed this was the meeting point of the case,
and asked "Have you tried Phillip Marlowe?" Elizabeth
and Ursula looked at each other, and neither seemed to
recognize the name. "No, I don't think we've talked to
him." said Ursula. "Well...maybe we can get him for
you." offered Paige, picking up on Phoebe's lead.
"He's helped out Brother in Law before...", continued
Phoebe, now getting into the swing of the cover story.

"We couldn't impose..." said Elizabeth. "It's no
problem, whatsoever." said Paige."He's a personal
friend."

"We would really appreciate it..." continued Ursula.
"We can go over there today, if you'd like." said
Phoebe.

AN HOUR LATER:

"You know...they make those skirts in a bigger
size..." chided Paige, gently. looking at the skin
tight fit of Phoebe's sky blue skirt, as it hugged her
bottom. "This looks just fine, thank you very much."
replied Phoebe, not turning to look back over her
shoulder at her sister. She was too busy putting the
final touches on her hair, pinning it back over her
right ear, in a style that she knew most men found
irrestistible.

Both were dressed to kill and readying to go up to the
office building that housed famed (at least to them)
P.I. Phillip Marlowe. "I hope we don't manage to get
shot at..." said Paige. "I wouldn't worry. Leo said we
could use our powers." replied Phoebe. Paige realized
that she hadn't done anything "witchy" that day, so
she looked around the room, and caught sight of the
fountain pen on the desk. She extended her hand and
said "Pen.", willing it to come to her. It disappeared
in a glow of blue light and reappeared in her palm.
"well, good. I feel better." she said.

LATER:

The two wiccan sisters emerged from the cab. (Phoebe
had had a little trouble getting in the door, because
the rear door opened backwards. Paige had known that,
but indulged a mildly mischevous impulse and held back
on telling Phoebe.) They approached the lobby, and
looked at the listing board, detailing the firms,
small businesses and even a couple of restaurants, on
the ground floor), that occupied the building. Across
the alleyway was a small diner, and Paige thought they
might stop for a bite when they came out.

"Phillip Marlowe, Private Investigator." read Phoebe,
gingerly tracing the letters with her fingers. "I
guess we're going to have to schlep up there and see
if he's in..." said Paige. "We probably should have
called." Phoebe smiled, "He'd probably have one of
those weird numbers like Oakhill 4500."

"Yes! Damnit...that was a missed opportunity..." added
Paige, sadly. Phoebe looked at her skeptically. "I
know, I know...you think I'm too into this." she said.
"No, not...really." Phoebe added, with a glimmer in
her eye. Finally she broke out into a smile. Paige
cuffed her lightly on the shoulder, and said "Let's
just go, already..."

They emerged onto the fourth floor landing and looked
down the hall. "All the way at the end, on the
left..." said Paige, sounding like she knew what she
was talking about. They walked down past a few doors,
most closed. They stopped at the door and Phoebe
tapped on the glass pane, with Marlowe's name and
title stenciled in flat black paint with golden gilted
trim.

"Mr. Marlowe?" called Paige. "In here..." came the
reply. The girls could also hear a radio, seemingly
tuned to a news broadcast, or possibly a ball game.
They strode throught the outer office foyer, and then
came to, and went into, the inner door. It was a nice
office, a bit spartan, but neat and well-kept. Marlowe
was standing at the window, looking out, sorting
through a handful of envelopes. He had taken off his
coat and fedora, and both were on the rack in the
corner. He turned back to them and gave them a frankly
appraising look. He couldn't help but notice that they
did the same to him.

Phoebe had been expecting someone on the order of
Humphrey Bogart. Instead, the tall, well-built man who
turned to face the sisters was actually rather
handsome. Closer to George Clooney or Cary Grant than
Bogart. She began to see some possible advantages this
little detour could have. She stepped forward and
extended her hand. "I'm Phoebe Halliwell and this is
my sister, Paige." She shook Marlowe's hand, looking
up into his eyes. He was tanned and had a sprinkle of
gray in his dark hair, and laugh lines around his eyes
that showed he had a sense of humour. Paige shook his
hand, then the sisters sat down and filled him in on
the case.

"A friend of ours has a sister who has gone
missing..." started Phoebe. "Her name is Catherine
Spencer. Her sister Elizabeth thinks she's part of a
commune that's located north of the city, out in the
hills."

"When did she see her last?" asked Marlowe. "About six
months ago..." added Paige. "She's sent Elizabeth some
letters since then" she added, indicating a handful of
letters in their opened envelopes that Elizabeth had
included in the file. Marlowe picked up the file,
looked at the photos of Catherine included and then
looked up at the two girls. "...and she's convinced
she's being held against her will?" he asked.

"Betsy just wants to know that she's all right, more
than anything else" said Phoebe. "She's worried, but
she says she'll handle it, if she's found. She just
really needs confirmation."

"That seems pretty simple..." said Marlowe, as he
scanned one of Catherine's letters. "This is pretty
troubling stuff" he said. "What does your friend plan
to do once I confirm that she's up there?"

Paige said "She says that she'll let her parents know
and that they'll call the law." Marlowe looked up,
raising his eyebrows. "We know. It'll be a tough
sell." added Phoebe, in response to his implied query.
"She's just sick with worry, more than anything else.
We were hoping you could use your expertise to help
her find out for sure." Phoebe added, sweetly.

"I can look around...make some inquiries. Maybe do a
little reconnaissance..." he trailed off. "My fee is
$25 a day, plus expenses." Phoebe took out the
envelope that Elizabeth had given her, and extended it
across the desk. "She authorized $200, up front."
Phoebe added, smiling at the expression that that
brought out on Marlowe's face. His smooth demeanor
slipped a bit, but he quickly regained it. "You can
update is by calling us here..." said Phoebe, sliding
a card across the desk with the name of the hotel and
a phone number written on it, in Paige's smooth,
flowing hand.

"Okay, I'll be in touch." Marlowe said. They rose and
he came around the desk to walk them to the door.
After they said their goodbyes, he watched them walk
away down the hall, admiring their confident walk.

"I had NO idea he would be that cute..." said Phoebe.
"He's a litte old for you, isn't he?" asked Paige.
"He's around 40, I think." she added. "Honey, I'm not
18 anymore" replied Phoebe. "That's one hell of a fine
man." "Oh...Phoebs...please, no. Don't even think
about it." pleaded Paige. Phoebe just looked at her
and smiled her mysterious Mona Lisa smile.

MARLOWE: I walked back to the desk and picked up the
envelope. I pocketed the two crisp bills and sat down
to look over the file again. Catherine Spencer was a
very beautiful girl. There was a school photo, a
candid from home and another one from college, which
included her sister, Elizabeth. It was easy to see how
a girl like that would make a good target for some on
the make con artist. Or for someone looking to get a
crack at her obvious potential. Girls like her attract
that type.

The problem was, that in reading her letters, she
seemed all too convinced that she was happy and that
she had found her calling. She talked up the guru up
there at Brook Farm (how original...), and while she
didn't say in so many words that she didn't want to
see her family again, made it clear that she thought
their concerns unwarranted and even a little silly.

I did a little checking with my few friends in the
DA's office about the status of the place. They had a
few mild complaints against them, mostly from
suspicious neighbors who couldn't mind their own
business. Nothing that would stick. There were rumours
of people being held against their will, but that's
all they were, at least officially.

I left the office to go to the county clerk's office.
I was going to need to know a little more than I did
to put this case in a proper context. The stiff new
bills in my chest pocket protested a little that I was
going to start my investigation by looking into the
family of the lady who had so graciously given them to
me, but I was able to stand it.

THE NEXT MORNING:

Paige finished toweling off from her early morning
shower, and tied the terrycloth towel around her wet
hair, and walked into the living room of their suite
nude from the hairline down. She took a sip of the
glass of orange juice that was sitting on the room
service tray that Phoebe had left on the table. Phoebe
had flown out early with a vague plan to get the
laundry done and possibly pick up a new dress. Paige
had opted to stay in and relax.

As much as she'd always wanted to experience this era,
the uncertainty of their role here and the time it
would take was wearing her down. She sat for a moment
in the chair, relishing the feel of the satin padding
on her bare ass. She had just unfolded the paper to
have a look at the headlines, when she heard the
unmistakeable voices of Betsy and Ursula, under the
sill of the adjoining door between their rooms.

Paige padded softly over to the door, trying to be as
quiet as possible. She knelt down to have a look in
the keyhole and see if what she thought was happening
was really happening. Of course, it was.

The two beautiful roommates were acting exactly as
pictured on the cover of the book from which they
sprung. Ursula had pulled her sweater off over her
head, and her bare round c-cup breasts were bobbing
slightly as she reached around to unzip her skirt. Her
face held an expression of love mixed with wanton
lust, as she looked longingly at her lover.

Elizabeth had undressed down to her slip and a pair of
panties, and was lying on the floor, on her side,
propped on her left elbow. Her eyes were glued to
Ursula, and her right hand was rubbing the outer part
of her panties, her fingers lightly playing over the
bulge of her mons. "Get that fucking skirt off." she
almost snarled.

Paige, adjusting to a more comfortable position
sitting directly on the floor, was surprised at that
tone and language coming from the seemingly reserved
Elizabeth. She peered closer and saw her slipping her
hand inside the waistband and continuing to rub her
pussy in a more direct way. Paige felt the
butterlies-in-the-stomach feeling of seeing something
she wasn't supposed to see, but there was also an
undeniable undertone of arousal to it, as well. She
couldn't pretend that all the wetness she felt on her
vulva was from the bath she'd just had.

She slipped her left hand between her thighs and began
to tease the outer labia, biting her lip to keep from
moaning her approval. She ran her other hand, the arm
pinned closer to her body as she leaned against the
door, over her breasts, pinching and caressing the
nipples, and playing her palm under both tits, the
mild friction created between the two silky smooth
surfaces sending currents of sensual pleasure all over
her upper body.

Ursula had stepped out of the skirt by now, and
crouched down on all fours, crawling the final few
feet to her lover, who was casuslly masturbating on
the floor. Ursula suppoterd herself on both hands as
she leaned forward to kiss Elizabeth. Ursula's lips
brushed her skin, raising the fine downy hairs on her
neck and shoulders. She kissed Elizabeth's cheek
lightly, onece, then again, and then worked her way to
her lips.

They kissed tentatively, then with a little more
urgency. Their tongues searched one another out, and
soon were sliding over each other in an intricate
swirl. Elizabeth moved her elbow from heder her, and
slid back into a prone position on her back, her hand
never missing a beat as it circled energetically in
the crotch of her visibly moist panties. With her left
hand freed, she reached up and sought Ursulla's
downward hanging breasts, which Paige thought looked
like ripe oranges from this angle. Elizabeth squeezed
and tugged at both in succession, as Ursulla crawled
the extra step it took to position herself in a
dominant position atop her lover, her legs straddling
Elizabeth's waist. She reached down and gripped the
bottom edge of the slip, and slid it upwards, over
Elizabeth's head. She leaned in and kissed Elizabeth's
breasts, giving each a gentle nibbling bite.

Paige was past embarrasmant or denial at this moment.
She had pulled the towel off of her head, letting her
damp hair fall to a shoulder length cascade. She had
moved now into a position on both knees, with her face
pressed close to the door to see the unfolding show in
the other room. She had her thighs wide enough apart
that she could get a whole hand and several fingers
from the other into the space. She had licked the
fingers on her hands to add a little moisture and was
using her right hand to rub her creamy pink slit up
and down, with her left hand pushing at her hooded
clitoris, trying to get some better access to the
little love button.

Ursula lowered her breasts over Elizabeth's face,
letting the dark haired girl flick at them with her
tongue, wetting the nipple and causing the breasts to
jiggle and sway. She then closed her whole mouth over
each areola in turn, pulling on each like a child
sucking it's mother. Elizabeth had also reached up and
slipped Ursula's panties most of the way down over her
now-bare rump. Ursula giggled and said "Let me help
you..." and straightened up, allowing the pants to
slip a little farther down her smooth thighs. She
slipped them down over her knees and reaching back
behind her, off of her ankles. She held them over
Elizabeth's nose, teasing her by dipping them onto her
face and then pulling them back up.

She kissed Elizabeth warmly and them slowly worked her
way down her lover's bare chest, kissing, licking and
caressing her belly, down to the waistband of her
panties, damp with arousal and sweat. She kissed
Elizabeth's inner thighs, rubbing her cheeks on the
smooth skin. She laid the sharp point of her chin
directly on Elizabeth's pubic mound and started slowly
rotating it, Elizabeth arched her back and let out a
steady moan, as Ursula smiled. She laid her mouth and
nose directly on the same spot and began to lcik her
lover's pussy through the wet fabric, coating the area
with her warm saliva, mixing their juices in a way
that she knew Elizabeth always loved.

In order to get into a better position to really get
her face into her lover's crotch, Ursula bent forward
and leaned her head as close as she could, jacking her
bare ass up high into the air. Her head was aimed away
from Paige's vantage point, so Paige got a great close
look at her bare round ass and her creamy pink vulva
as Ursula reached back between her thighs and began to
caress it, working her way up in speed and intensity
until she was vigorously masturbating herself with one
hand and rubbing Elizabeth's swollen vulva through and
around her now sopping panties. Elizabeth was trying,
with mixed success to push them up over her thighs as
her legs jutted up into the air. It was very difficult
to maintain the necessary concentration while her
girlfriend lapped at her pussy like a hungry kitten.

Paige leaned a little forward to get an even closer
look, while two fingers of her left hand slipped into
and out of her vagina. She was beyond any arousal
she'd experienced before. The quality of her senses
seemed to be keener and sharper than she'd ever felt
them before. She reached out her right hand to steady
herself on the door and suddenly, it gave way, opening
and spilling her forward onto her chest into the
adjoining room.

MARLOWE:

I sat alone at the smallest table at the coffe shop
across the alley from my office building. I was
finishing my second cup of coffe and had just enjoyed
the rare experience of eating a fresh bagel there. I
thought there might be more of them and a bunch of
fishes back there.

I took another look at the main part of the file that
my favor-calling had gotten me a copy of, the
financial report for the Spencer family. Old money
merchants from back east. The old man had several
kids, Elizabeth and Catherine the youngest. There were
the usual items for a family of that type: some
college-age drunkeness, occasional brushes with
authority that Dad's wallet made disappear. Nothing to
really suggest anyone going off the deep end. There
hadn't been any ransom demands, veiled or otherwise,
so that seemd to be out. I was getting a headache and
starting to think this case might be just what it
seemed to be: some poor little rich girl acting out.
If these schmoes wanted to drop money in my pocket to
prove that, I was willing to play along. They were
going to throw money at someone. It might as well be
me.

I gathered the file, left two bucks on the counter,
and walked back out onto the street, trying to decide
the best way to go out to the little Hawthorne
pretender's fantasyland, when I caught sight of
yesterday's Esmerelda walking towards the office.

She looked like something out of a Sargent painting,
except her beauty was real and not the work of a
highly paid flatterer. She wore a white dress with
short sleeves and a belt at the waist. Her hair was
pulled back tightly into a bun, and when she turned
her head in my direction, I saw that she had a flower
over her right ear. She saw the way was clear and
began to cross. When she hit the near curb, about
thirty feet in front of me, she turned left and caught
sight of me. Her smile was absolutely dazzling and she
waved to me, a gesture that was both girlish and
friendly.

"Miss Halliwell. It's nice to see you again." She came
close and put her arm around my waist, kissing me on
the cheek. I was a little surprised at her
forwardness, but she smelled terrific, so I let it go.
"Mr. Marlowe! It's so nice to see you again." she
said.

"I haven't had much of a chance to make progress on
the case just yet..." I offered, afraid that she
expected me to have her friend wrapped up with a shiny
bow in my office.

"Oh, I know. I just wanted to say hello. I was around,
doing a little shopping..." You can't shop for much
more than (usually) stale donuts and bagels around
here, but I let that go, as well. "But since you
mentioned it...how's the case going?"

"Well...there doesn't seem to be any evidence of
kidnapping. I checked with my friends at the DA's
office and they don't look at the farm as much of a
big deal. There's no history of violence, there've
been no ransom demands... How well do you know
Catherine?"

"I don't. Not really." she replied. At my raised
eyebrows, she smiled and said "We're just trying to
help out a friend a little."

"I'm planning to go out to scout around at the farm,
maybe ask a few questions. I'll let you know what I
find." I said.

"Well...can't I go with you?" she asked. I started to
tell her that she'd just be in my way, but she cut me
off. "I've done a lot more of this sort of thing than
you probably would believe. I can take care of myself,
really."

Normally, that kind of thing is simple bravado, but
there was something in her eyes and the set of her
smooth jaw that told me she was not only telling the
truth, but was right in her belief in her self. I
looked her over for a second, trying to look like I
was deliberating and then said "All right, I'm not
going to argue."

The farm was located about 20 minutes outside the
city, and as we drove out in the Chevy, I had a chance
to ask her a few questions.

"If you don't mind my asking..." I started. She
grinned in a pleasing Mona Lisa fashion and shook her
head. "What do you and your sister do? And are you
from around here?"

"No, we're from San Francisco. I work for a newspaper
and she takes care of our house. We have a married
sister who lives with us, also." she said. "What else
do you want to know?" she asked, in a pleasant tone of
voice that wasn't forced at all.

"well...are you a Gypsy?" Her throaty laugh was really
something to hear. "No, I'm not. Why do you ask?" I
pointed at the tattoo I had noticed on her wrist,
partially hidden by a smoothed wooden bracelet o some
sort, that had slid down her wrist slightly. "That's
kind of different."

"Oh. Yes, it is. Ursula thinks I'm from Samoa or
something." she added. I looked at her and raised my
eyebrows. "No, I'm not, if that's what you're
thinking. I just like the way it looks. I know it's
unusual, but that's sort of a San Francisco thing."
She pushed the braclet back and showed me the whole
thing. It was a sort of mythological symbol. I had
seen it before, but couldn't place exactly where. It
was very well done. Whoever had done it wasn't the
average guy who drew anchors and hearts for sailors.

"I have several more. If you play your cards right,
you might get to see them, too." she said. I was a
little shocked, (but the effect was wearing off faster
with each new revelation...), at her frankness. I
looked sidelong at her, and was treated to the rich
laugh, again.

"Okay. You're not in a cult yourself, are you?" I
asked, picking up the teasing tone of the
conversation, now. "No, not really." she said. "No
sacrafices, no howling at the moon. I'm unique, but
I'm not trouble. Not much at least." she said, slyly.

"What's your take on Catherine, if I may be so bold."
she asked. "Well, you shouldn't stop now..." I said.

"I think maybe she's right where she wants to be. I'm
not sure of that, but indications point to it." I
said. Which was pretty much how I felt. "Yes, I
agree." she said. I genuinely hadn't expected to hear
that and my expression must have said as much, because
she smiled the wicked closed grin again.

"I think that Elizabeth feels the same way, too. I got
a definite vibe from her that that's what she
suspects." she finished.

"So why are we driving out of the city now? I enjoy
the company and all, but it seems kind of pointless."
I said.

"Most of the people who hire you don't really want to
hear what you have to tell them, right?" she asked. I
nodded, impressed again by the way she could cut to
the chase. "Here, you might have somebody who can
really handle the truth." she said, and nodded sagely.

"When we get there, you're not going to try and make
me stay in the car, are you?" she asked. The tone of
her voice made it clear that that wouldn't work, even
if I had entertained the idea. "No, I was actually
hoping you'd help." I said. She perked up at this and
asked "How?"

"I might need a diversion of some sort. You could
pretend to be interested in joining."

"Do you want to ask me for a brochure?" she asked,
laughingly. Even I had to laught at that idea. "No,
just tell them that your cousin recommended the place.
Make up a good story. I just need a minute of two to
get a look at their registry, and then I'll see if we
can find Catherine."

When we finally reached the place, it looked more like
a retirement home than a rustic Utopian farm. I drove
through the open gates, up the paved way. There was a
half-full parking lot and I found an open space. As we
got out of the car, I noticed Phoebe running her hand
along the fender lovingly as she walked alongside of
it. She caught my glance and said "I love the
smoothness of these old cars."

"That car is just two years old, young lady. It cost
me a fair chunk of change." For the first time since
she'd so casually strolled into my office with her
gorgeous sister in tow, I saw a look of real
discomfort cross her face. She seemed to be either
embarrased or angry at herself, probably a little of
both. I couldn't really see why. "I'm sorry...did I
upset you?" I asked. "No...no. It was my fault..." she
offered, and seemed to want to drop the matter, which
I did.

We went in and after a walk down a medium length hall,
approached the battle axe who was acting as a nurse at
the front desk. People could be seen moving up and
down the various halls that lead out from this central
desk. The whole thing had an air of false cheer that
raised the hair on the back of your neck.

Any worry I had about Phoebe was quickly dispelled as
she turned, right before my eyes, into Betty Boop.
"Hiya, sweetie!" she said to the startled nurse, her
voice about an octave higher than it's normal speaking
tone. "We just got here, and we're hopin' to see
someone in chaaaaage!" she said, in a broad New
England accent. I have practice at keeping my poker
face in times like this, but it was pretty hard,
watching this performance.

Nurse Ax slid off of her stool and said "Wait here,
one moment..." and walked back into an inner office
area, stopping once to look back over her shoulder,
seeming to half-expect us to be gone, a figment of her
imagination. Phoebe popped her bubble gum (when had
she sliped that in?) and gave her a small, friendly
wave. The nurse shook her head, ever so slightly and
waddled back into the room, pushing up the door.

I quickly grabbed the registry book, thinking this was
all far too easy, and located the number of
Catherine's cabin. I twirled the book back around to
it's correct position, and looked at Phoebe. "Keep
them busy." I said and she nodded and winked, then
broke out into a big smile. I slipped out the door
and, after looking around and seeing that no one
seemed to take any notice of me, I made my way down
the path, looking for Cabin 14.

I found it a few minutes later, and trying to look as
casual as I could, (hands in the pockets usually
works...), strolled up to the door. It was open and I
knocked on the screen. After a moment, a beautiful
girl, unmistakably Catherine, came to the screen. "Did
my Father send you?" she asked. "What makes you think
that?" I replied. "You look like the type, big goof
with nothing better to do." she said.

Not bad, but I've heard worse. "Actually your sister
hired me." She softened a bit. "Elizabeth? What does
she want?"

"To know if you're okay." I said, truthfully. "I am,
Now go away." she said. "Is there anything..." I
started to say.

"Tell her that I'm fine, and that she can come see me
if she wants. If my Father shows up her, he'll regret
it. Tell her that, exactly. Now blow, already." she
said, turning her back and slamming the door behind
her.

I was about to knock again, when I caught a flash of
movement out of the side of my eye. I turned and saw
one of the place's white clad goons approaching at a
swift walk (like you see in the Olympics), with Phoebe
trying to keep up with him, arrest his progress and
talk to him, all at once. The look on his face
suggested that he'd like any excuse to pop me.

I turned and held my hands up, palms facing him.
"Easy, big fella..." I started, then he swung. I moved
with the blow, so he didn't catch me full force, but
it hurt enough. He was off balance, so I came with an
uppercut to his gut, and his breath left him with a
comical "Oof" sound.

He stood there, bent over at the waist and then tried
to swing on me again. Phoebe had slipped off her black
pump and raised her right leg and now, from behind
him, gave him a sort of standing side kick, right on
the side of his left knee. He howled again and went
down like he was shot.

By this time, we were drawing a lot of attention, and
started walking as fast as we could toward the parking
lot. As we reached the edge of it, I turned and saw
severl other goons running for us. We were close
enough to the car to get in safely and clear the
parking lot before they got close enough to do
anything. I was just glad they were unarmed.

As we sped away, down the twisty roads of the hills, I
looked over to Phoebe, to make sure she was okay. She
looked at me and broke out into an uprorarious laugh.
I had to join her in it.

THE CARLTON:

The absolute horror of her situation took a second or
two to really dawn on Paige. She had fallen through
the door connecting two seperate hotel rooms, and been
discovered in the act not only of spying on two women
entwined in passion, but of gratifying herself to the
sight as well. The shocked looks on the faces of
Ursula and Elizabeth only deepened her shame. She was
perilously close to blowing her cover by orbing out,
when Ursula raised up and walked slowly over to where
Paige lay, sprawled over the transom.

Paige mustered what tiny amount of dignity she could
and rose to a standing position, meekly holding the
towel in front of her chest, not really covering much
of anything. Ursula looked deep into her eyes, and to
Paige's complete amazement, smiled her vivid smile.

She extended her right arm, with her hand palm up.
"Please, Paige..." she said, so softly Paige could
barely hear her. "Please join us." Paige stammered and
said "Are you sure...?" She looked around Ursula to
see Elizabeth kicking her ankles loose from her now
sodden underpants. She looked at Paige intently,
methodically licked the tips of all four fingers of
her right hand, and pointedly, as a demonstration to
Paige, lifted her right leg, best at the knee, as far
as she could. She reached around her ass and plunged
two of the fingers deep into her slick vagina, from
behind. She smiled a sly, wicked smile, unmistakable
as anything but an invitation.

Paige was beyond worrying about Phoebe's reaction now.
She saw a cut and dried opportunity for sensual
pleasure in front of her, and she meant to seize it.
She took the hand that Ursula offered, and let the
Dirty Deb lead her to her lover.

Paige knelt on the floor, and both girls moved into
better positions from which to touch her. Each took
one side and began to caress and rub the length of her
body. As Elizabeth fondled a breast, Ursula
concentrated on the hips and belly on the other side.
They changed zones, and sometimes concentrated on the
same ones at the same time.

Both moved in to kiss and suckle Paige's breast, as
Elizabeth squeezed and kneaded Paige's firm ass.
Meanwhile, Ursula was rubbing her palm along Paige's
swollen vulva, slipping her fingers in for closer
detailed caressing of the labia. She continued to rub
at Paige's hooded clitoris as she kissed Paige
passionately, the two girls darting their tongues in
and out of each other's mouths.

After thoruoghly arousing the neophyte lesbian with
their attentions, the experienced two began to go to
work on her in earnest. Ursula took a sitting position
with her back to the bedframe for support. She opened
her legs wide, and motioned for Paige to join her.
Paige, seeing the gesture, thought the smooth blonde
wanted her pussy eaten. Paige was about to dive in,
when Ursula said, "No, sit like I am, with your back
to my front."

Paige did as she was told, and snuggled into the warm
crevice Ursula made with her body, as she wrapped her
arms under Paige's, so she could fondle the redheaded
witch's breasts, and rub her smooth belly. "Betsy's
going to show you a trick or two." whispered Ursula
into Paige's ear, and planted a soft kiss on her
cheek, for reassurance. Elizabeth got onto her knees
in front of the entwined girls and just before leaning
down to go to work, leaned in and kissed first Ursula,
then Paige, full on and with considerable passion. She
grinned wickedly and began working her way down
Paige's chest, kissing her breasts and belly, and
licking the little avenue between her tits. Between
these kisses and the steady touch of Ursula, plus the
blonde's sensuous grinding of her own slick pussy
against the small of Paige's back, Paige felt her head
swimming like it rarely, if ever, had before.

LAUREL CANYON:

Marlowe opened the door to his place, and slipped
through the door, holding it open for Phoebe, who gave
him a big smile in return. He took off his hat as he
came in and placed it on the knob of the railing of
the stairs. He offered Phoebe a glass of water and
went to the kitchenette to get it for her. As he put
the ice into a tall glass, he turned to see her
looking at his chessboard.

"Is that the Heathcote problem?" she asked, already
knowing the answer. "Uh...yeah. It is. Do you play?"

"Yes, just a little. I studied the game for a college
course. I remember this one well." Phoebe was being
extra careful to not tip off her real time frame,
after the near-goof with the car. She was still pissed
at herself for such a simple, foolish mistake.

Marlowe brought over the water and, after handing it
to her, sat in the chair. She took a sip, and sat on
the arm of the chair, almost touching him. He
pretended not to notice her closeness and to be
concentrating on the intricacies of the maneuver, but
the heady smell of her perfume, and the warmth of her
skin, were reminding him of just what a special lady
she really was, and how he'd found himsel returning to
thoughts of her, over and over, in the last few days.

Phoebe decided to be bold and take the first step. She
traced a line around his left ear with her fingertips,
as softly as she could. He turned to look, and she
gave him her best knee-weakening smile. "I try hard
not to get involved with clients." he said. "I don't
think, after today's little visit, that I'm still a
client. Anyway, Paige and I were just the go-betweens.
Ursula and Betsy were your clients."

"You barely know me..." he offered. "I know what I
want, and that's you." she said, with a note of real
certainty in her voice, like he had only rarely heard
from a woman before. "Who are you? Do all girls act
like you where you're from?" he asked. "Yeah...pretty
much." she added, with a laugh.

She slid off of the arm of the chair into his lap. The
signifigant bulge that pressed into her ass told her
that he was only going through the motions of protest.
He was hers when she wanted him. She half turned and
nuzzled him, rubbing his rough cheek with her smooth
cheek and chin. She kissed him, lightly nibbling at
first, and then with more hunger and urgency.

She pivoted around to face him now, and straddled him
as he slid down a little farther into the chair. She
kissed him harder and began unbuttoning his shirt. He
slipped his hands around to cup her round, firm ass
and was surprised to feel that she didn't seem to be
wearing any underpants beneath the dress. He slipped
his hands up under the dress, tracing both palms up
the back of her thighs. He got to the top of the
stockings, felt the garters as they ran north to the
belt, but then nothing but silky smooth skin where
cotton or lace would normally be.

This brazen near-Gypsy girl had turned his world
upside down in a short time, and he meeant to take the
last step with her now, or die in the effort. His
hands felt along the crack of her butt, and he gently
seperated the buns, squeezing and pinching them. She
moaned softly into his ear, as she ground her hips
into his lap, making him even harder and causing his
cock to nearly scream, begging for attention and
succor.

She pulled back, looking down at hin solemnly. She
traced her index finger vertically down his lips, and
then smiled, as she pitched back to dismount him. She
quickly knelt before him and began to undo his belt.
He reached down to help her in her urgent rescue
attempt on his penis, but she slapped his hand gently
and looked at him. "Ah-ah...bad boy. Let me handle
this..." she said, grinning lewdly. He smiled and
raised his eyebrows in a mock gesture of acceptance.

Phoebe loosened the fly and then slid her hand into
the opening of his boxers. She found a nicely sized
cock, about what she'd expect from a guy his height.
She slipped it into the open, making sure to drag the
underside over the cotton for just an extra jolt of
sensation.

Looking up and making eye contact with Marlowe, she
smiled and took his dick in her right hand. She leaned
her face close and rubbed the member over the outside
of each cheek, then over her chin and along the bridge
of her nose. She could feel the blood pump through it,
and could see it shake, ever so slightly, with each
heartbeat, if she took her hands away and let it stand
on it's own.

She began to lightly kiss it, starting at the bottom
of the shaft, at the point of contact with his body,
and going up the length of his penis. She covered it
in kisses, and he continued to fidget in the chair.
Sweat pools began to form under the arms of his shirt
and his throat was dry.

Phoebe slid her tongue out and began to coat the whole
cock with her warm, gooey saliva. Her frequent eye
contact with Marlowe told her that while he'd had
blowjobs before, he wasn't really prepared for what a
21st Century girl could do to him. After coating his
entire dick, she began to flick around the hole
itself. Teasing it and occasionally, sticking the tip
of her tongue in the centimeter or so that it would
go.

Finally, she began to suck him off in earnest. She had
a good level of lube going and was getting her head
into a steady rhythm. The taste of his dick was good,
just a little salty, from his sweat. Marlowe held onto
the back of her head, grabbing the tight bun her hair
was still in almost like a pommel on a saddle. She
alternated her hand in to offer a grip tight with
friction, as she flicked the head of his cock with her
tongue as fast as she could manage to.

After building him up toward orgasm, and then slipping
back and letting him back away from the precipice, she
took his right hand, coated the palm with her spit,
and clamped it firmly into place, along the shaft. He
looked quizzicly at her, and she said "Entertain
yourself for a second."

She smiled, rose to her feet, and took the half-empty
glass of water and drained most of it. She handed it
to him and he swallowed the last two gulps. She
stepped back and enjoyed the sight of this big, sexy
man, (who was also, incidentally, one of the great
characters of American fiction), stroking himself, and
breathing like a bitch in heat, all for little ol'
Phoebe.

She stood a step or two back from his chair and began
unbuttoning her dress. She did it slowly, cocking her
head to the side as she looked at him. "You're
enjoying teasing me, aren't you?" He asked.

She nodded and laughed. She shrugged the dress off of
her shoulders, and it caught on her bent elbows. She
slipped it off of her forearms and undid the belt.
Then she pushed it over her hips and it slid into a
pool at her feet. She was left standing only in the
garter belt and stockings. She stepped close to the
side of the chair and said "Take these off of me."

Marlowe reached up and undid the clasps on the
stockings, one after the other. He slipped them down
her smooth brown legs, and finally she was left with
only the belt. She turned it around on her waist to
undo the clasp from the front. She held it out at
arm's length for a second and then, with a wicked
grin, dropped it onto the floor, along with all of her
other clothing. Finally, she reached back and removed
the flower she still had over her ear, and then undid
the clasp that held her hair in it's tight bun and
shook it free.

She climbed into Marlowe's lap and began to kiss him
passionately. She pressed her bare chest close into
his and embraced him around his neck as tightly as she
could. Marlowe reached down and guided his cock into
Phoebe's wet vagina. The fit was perfect. He sunk it
all the way to the hilt, slowly and Phoebe gasped into
his shoulder and then began to pick up her breathing.
Marlowe began to move his hips upward in a thrusting
motion, happy to finally have a little control in the
situation. He'd been teased about as far as he could
go and now he just simply wanted to fuck this girl for
all she was worth. He established a long, slow stroke
and was squeezing her firm ass in regular time with
his thrusts.

Phoebe's head was swimming as Marlowe's prick slid
into and out of her pussy. He had seized control of
the situation from her and she was more than happy to
turn it over to him, because he obviously knew how to
work the equipment.

He was methodically licking her hard nipples,
squeezing her firm titties while he rammed his dick
into her with increasing urgency. She held on as tight
as she could and tried to match his strokes with
thrusts of her own, maximizing the friction and
contact.

"Wait a second..." she said and climbed off of him.
She turned and climbed back into the chair, with her
ass near his face, He was looking up, figuring she
wanted to be eaten, and was about to oblige her, when
she slid her soft ass down the front of his chest, and
pausing to get the angle right, reached down and
guided him back inside her from behind. His sharp
intake of breath was matched by her's as the
penetration was especially full and deep.

She paused for just a second, then began to propel her
hips up and forward, then back and downward. She was
now doing a lot of the work. This was a strain and she
couldn't keep it up long, but she probably wouldn't
have to. She could feel a long-simmering orgasm
starting to gather momentum deep inside her body.

"That's it Marlowe! Fuck me, fuck me HARD!" she
practically bellowed. Deep inside his consciousness,
he was glad he didn't have any close neighbors, but
that was buried deep. Very deep.

He continued to hump her from below, firing his dick
upwards as hard as he could, getting deep inside her
cunt, reaching around her waist and furiously rubbing
her clit as hard as he could. Just when she began to
really feel the waves of pleasure erupt over her body,
she noticed that the room began to shimmer...

THE CARLTON:

Paige was standing, as well as she could on her
weakened legs, as Ursula knelt in front of her and ate
her pussy and Elizabeth squatted behind her and licked
out her asshole. She was spitting directly into the
valley between Paige's buns and working the lube
around to coat the area for her fingers. Ursula was
eating Paige in a fashion, and with a level of skill,
that she'd never felt before.

Paige used one hand to steady herself against the
bedpost, and the other to caress her own belly and
breasts. Ursula was picking up the pace, and Paige
gathered her strength to stand firmly on her own feet
and under her own power. She wanted to cum while
standing up. Urusula looked up at her and smiled.
Paige watched her lower her head back to Paige's pussy
and the first stroke of her tomgue was the proverbial
straw that broke the camel's back. Paige began to be
flooded with the icy sensation she always had just
before she came. And then the lights seemed to dim.

HALLIWELL MANNOR:

Piper was just putting the last out of place item back
on the shelf, when she heard the telltale sound of
Paige's orb. She turned to welcome her wayward sister
back and was treated to the sight of the redhaired
witch standing in the middle of the attic floor,
totally nude, bucking her hips, obviously in the
throes of an intense orgasm. Piper's mouth dropped
open, and Paige, after a few seconds of intense
pleasure, looked around and realized where she was.

She was just about to speak, when the orb sound was
heard agin, and Piper and Paige saw something even
more bizarre. Their sister Phoebe, similarly nude,
sweaty and mid-climax, but she was squatting in the
middle of the floor and thrusting back and forth. She
came out with "Fuck me, baby, that's it fuck me..."
before she opened her eyes and like Paige, stopped
dead from confusion and embarrasment.

Piper stood with her hands on her hips, put her tongue
into her cheek and looked at her sisters, who both
seemed to want to dig a hole and climb in.

She said, half seriously and half in jest "There
better be a fucking good explaination why you two went
to these lengths, just to get laid..."

    

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