Free Greta's Game by K.C. Silkwood

Greta’s Game
    By K.C. Silkwood
     
     
    Greta’s Game
    By K.C. Silkwood
    Copyright K.C. Silkwood
    Smashwords Edition
     
     
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    GRETA’S GAME
     
     
    From the day she moved into the big house on
Chestnut Street, Greta Steele was the hot topic of conversation
among her neighbors. At first, people wondered why the stunning
brunette had no husband, no children, and apparently not even a
boyfriend. She had to be nearly 40 years old. Had she never started
a family? Then why did she need a home so large, so grand? And what
did she do for a living? Greta was tall, slim, elegant, and she
dressed and acted like someone with both money and class. Was she a
fashion designer? A retired supermodel? Maybe some European heiress
who had fled her homeland? She did have the trace of an accent,
which only added to her mystery.
    The riddle was solved when Greta invited all
the neighborhood women to her home one Saturday afternoon for
drinks and h’ordeuvres. The girls spent hours chatting, mingling,
and wandering through the spacious house. Once everyone was nice
and mellow from the alcohol, Greta gathered them in the huge living
room and revealed her secret.
    “Ladies, I know you’ve been wondering who I
am and what I do,” she began, standing in the center of the room so
everyone could hear her. She wore a simple black dress, her dark
hair falling to her shoulders. Because her skin was so pale, her
bright red lipstick and nail polish looked bold and dramatic.
“Well, allow me to dispel the mystery.” She held up a glossy
catalogue with a photo of a nude blonde woman on the cover. The
woman’s lips were coated with bright silver lipstick, and she
puckered them as if blowing a kiss at the camera. “I’m the founder
and CEO of Steele Kisses, one of the world’s largest manufacturers
of adult toys and intimate wear.”
    A collective gasp rose from the group of
ladies. “You mean…like sex toys?” one timid girl asked.
    “Toys, accessories, personal pleasure
devices, whatever you’d like to call them,” Greta confirmed. “Also
oils, lotions, creams, and a full line of lingerie and intimate
wear for both women and men.”
    The room erupted into excited conversation,
and soon the women were passing the catalogue around. Some blushed
and gasped when they saw the offerings inside, while others begged
to see the items in person. Greta brought out two black duffle bags
filled with various novelties, which caused even more of an uproar
as the ladies held up pairs of crotchless panties or hefted
frighteningly large dildos in their hands. A few of the women
refused to touch the items; others took Greta aside and asked if
they could buy some on the spot.
    “Sorry, girls, I only keep a few samples here
at the house. But I’ll give you each a catalogue to take home, and
you can order anything you like.”
    As late afternoon approached, the women began
to leave in small groups. Greta handed each person a catalogue at
the door, along with whispered enticements of a “friends and
neighbors discount.” Finally, there were only four women left.
Greta ushered them to a quiet corner of the living room where three
love seats were arranged in a C shape with a large glass table in
the middle. Greta sat alone on one of them, and the other girls sat
in pairs.
    “There, that’s more