She had fucked her friend Hank Hastings with hot and lively expertise. Called upon to provide suck, she had sucked him over the rainbow and back again.

Now she had caught his signal and she was going to get to work on Helen Troy. Carlotta could switch from heterosexual to homosexual without thinking twice about it.

Moreover, she had seen something in Hank and Helen, when they had been so briefly together, that made her think they ought to be together more often and all alone. Being a woman, Carlotta was a matchmaker.

But now to the problem of the moment. This Helen had been given a bad time by a female passenger and had been left in a state of nervous tension. Carlotta knew the medicine to apply.

She brought the margarita to Helen and clinked glasses. She let half the drink go down Helen's throat and then she reached for Helen's hand.

"Shek," she said.

Helen nodded. Yes, her hands were shaking. Carlotta touched delicate fingers to the pulse in the side of Helen's throat. "Queek," she said.

"My heart is still beating fast, I know," Helen said, pleased with Carlotta's sympathy.

Holding her drink in one hand, Carlotta bent, reached casually up beneath Helen's skirt and pressed her hand firmly upon the twat she found. She could not reach its skin but she felt it adequately through the fabric of Helen's minipanties. She also felt, as she smiled quietly, the shaking response that ran through Helen's entire form.

"Shek," said Carlotta. True enough, Helen's cunt had been quivering and now quivered even more strongly. "Wet." Carlotta smelled her own fingers. "Ah! In middle." She tried to find the English words but could not. "Lost," she tried. And "Not mek feenish."

Helen marveled. "You can tell by the smell of my cunt that that bitch Cleo left our sex job unfinished, even though I polished her off so well?"