"... Stretching sinuously, her back forming an arc that would make a viaduct engineer blush, Lisandra mewled like a kitten. 'Oh Hef,' she breathed, opening one feline eye, 'You were staggering.' The Hef smiled wolfishly and removed the pipe from where it shouldn't have been*. "I know," he said, leaning over to run his tongue up her spinal column. "I frequently am." Frissons of ecstasy fizzed through her body and she sighed with satisfaction.
There was a sudden movement in the bed and another head popped out from beneath the burgundy sateen sheets. It was Shanandra, Lisandra's identical twin sister. "Hef, you were absolutely sensational," she murmured lazily, her voice still thick with innuendo. "Now then, all that action has made me thirsty. And we want to know what you're going to do about it."
More Hot Hef action after the jump.
The bed groaned as Hef shifted his weight. "Not again!" giggled the sisters. There was a pause and Hef jammed the pipe back in. "What's wrong with again, my little honeybees?" he crooned. "I know you cats can't get enough of Uncle Hef's love. Now, someone said they were thirsty." There was a low 'Pop', followed by the smoother sound of a drawer opening. "Thanks to my Sub-Zero Wolf refrigerated drawers, I have champagne on tap and where do you think I got the ice from eh? Now I don't have to ring for Holmes to bring in the post-coital champagne to refresh the parts that need refreshing after our efforts."
Levering off the cork, Hef poured the golden nectar into a flute and handed it to his companions before turning back to the fridge and rummaging inside. "Ooh, said Lisandra, perking up again. "Are you going to drop some strawberries into my drink as well?" Hef looked downcast. "No, my little Sugarplum", he said. "It's my medication. It needs to be refrigerated, and if I don't take it, then my blood pressure goes through the roof."
*His mouth, dumbo. Mom not tell you it's bad to smoke?
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