A Dangerous Legacy Pt. 03bymadam_noe©
©Nora Quick 2013
Sitting in my room I shook off the worry and thought over how to prepare. The magic had made it so I never had to shave nor moisturize, but still there are sacred rituals of femininity one could never give up. And I needed them now more than ever; those rituals relaxed me.
I drew a bath and scented it with relaxing salts and oils I adored, cotton blossom and light jasmine. My hair was still clean from the shower the night before, so I pinned it up and sank in. I scrubbed and scraped until all my skin was cloud-soft. I soaked until I thought the perfumes were a part of me. Then I dried off and smoothed in moisturizer that was soft and as thick as cashmere.
To impress, but classy, Julian had said.
First I dabbed on perfume that was an echo of the bath scents. My skin no longer needed concealer or foundation of any kind, a relief, so it was simple. I lined my eyes softly, smudging the eyeliner, and brushed on very subtle smoky eye shadow. I lined my lips and filled them in with blood red stain, smoothing gloss on top. I brushed through mascara darkening and lengthening my already long, thick, black lashes.
As I worked I heard all three men climb the stairs, laughing and joking, going into their own rooms to change. For a moment my heart pounded and I smiled at the memories of the previous night. For the next adventure, I vowed to push my concerns aside and live in the moment, but the urge to over-think was lurking constantly at the edges of my thoughts.
Keeping my hair pinned up I dressed carefully. I wore Cuban-heeled back-seamed stockings attached to a black and nude garter belt. Over that slid matching panties and I topped it off with the demi bra that matched. The effect was overly-stylized, a caricature of the forties style that somehow worked.
I found the black slip that was low cut enough and put it on before adding the little black dress. It was tight, skimming my curves, the neckline sweetheart and low. From the side my breasts, hefted up, looked like they were almost trying to escape, surely enough to tempt any man into sin.
I looked sexy, but not sleazy. I had a few steps to go until classy, so I did my hair carefully, curling the tips and letting it fall long, covering one eye. Lastly I added a string of freshwater pearls and four inch stiletto velvet pumps.
Sex on the hoof, sure, but still I'd be welcomed in any home in America. Just what I was going for. I knew Pierre's night had been relaxed, casual, just the way he was. Julian's was going to be beautiful and orchestrated just as he was. I was perhaps getting ahead of myself in wondering what Andre's would be like.
I was nervous, no doubt about it. What made tonight different than the night before was my growing suspicion that impossibly fast, I was falling in love with them. The thought froze me in my tracks and I wished Diego was with me, but it sounded like he was romping in the back yard with a toy. Too fast, it was too fast, but I would relax and not worry. I swore it to myself and pushed the thought into the back of my mind. Somehow this was easier to ignore than the worries, and I guess that spoke volumes about me.
I came down the stairs to see them waiting in the foyer, and it was a sight that would make any woman pause and consider swooning. Each was dressed in a suit, their tie showing off each owner's favorite color. Julian looked respondent in a grey suit, his tie glossy and green. His hair was slicked back, still damp, giving the soft-eyed artist a hard-edged look. Pierre's navy suit highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the trim size of his waist. His bright blue tie matched his eyes perfectly, and he wore his curling hair loose to his shoulders. He'd trimmed his beard, which now became the swooping mustache and canny goatee of a musketeer. He looked younger and happier, more...Pierre than before. Andre wore a black suit with a maroon tie nearly the same shade as his hair. He too had dampened his hair on the side and pulled it back. What shocked me was he was clean shaven. The promise of his bearded face was fulfilled in the most beautiful yet masculine arrangement of bones I'd ever seen.
But what stole my breath and nearly made me trip on the last few steps was the look in their eyes. In that moment I felt the power of the goddess, the ancient degree of control every woman was born to. In that moment I knew for the gift of touching me they would do anything. A woman could rule the world with that kind of power, but alas I had no use for it. I'd rather just take the touching. Still, knowing I had brought forth such desire was a heady cocktail that made me want to swing and dance, laughing.
I reached the bottom and they were all still watching me with a curious mix of hungry male conqueror and dutiful, humble, devotee.
"Well you three look great," I managed on the second try, my throat parched.
Julian unfurled my coat and stepped forward. "Tonight, she's mine." His voice was a deep growl, wholly masculine as it made me shiver.
I didn't like being claimed like property but I let it go, since Julian seemed so happy he fairly vibrated. He held my coat for me as Pierre let me know Diego had been attended to and left in the yard to spare our black clothes.
I kissed Julian's cheek or at least went for it, but he turned and claimed my lips. Pulling back he had red gloss and I laughed, sending him to the mirror.
"Since you're mussed anyway," Pierre said and grabbed me, spinning me to him where he kissed me soundly. Chuckling, he passed me off to Andre.
"You're a walking felony in that dress," Andre said and bent his head slowly.
"I promise I'll make doing time fun."
He laughed at my words and crushed my mouth beneath his.
I flounced away and opened my small purse, pulling out my gloss but Julian stopped me. "Best wait on that. Shall we?"
Intrigued I took his hand as he escorted me. Pierre lead the way, opening doors, and Andre followed behind, closing them. Diego ran up t o us but Pierre kept him away with a rub to the head and a promise tomorrow we'd all play with him. In the Porsche Julian bundled me into the back, giving Andre shotgun. Pierre climbed into the driver's seat and we were off.
Julian quickly shifted, turning towards me as his fine, long-boned fingers danced over my stockings, toying with the bottom of my skirt. "You're wearing panties, aren't you?"
I felt shocked by the question. In the car, with Andre and Pierre so close, the world just a single pane of glass away, and he got playful now?
"Julian..." I began, reaching for his wrist.
"Anna," he playfully cooed back as his hand pushed higher, teasing my bare skin right at the edge of my stockings.
"We're in a moving car!"
Pierre chuckled. "Don't worry about me driving off the road. But I will adjust the mirrors and enjoy the show."
"We can't-" I began and Julian's hand jumped to my face, turning me into a kiss as his other arm came around to hold me.
Well, he was the kinky one, and though it thrilled me I felt real nerves . I'd never been one for public exhibitions. I felt my mind slip away on that thought as his tongue filled my mouth and all I could feel was him wrapped around me. His hand returned and smoothed up my thigh with such delicate precision my knees drifted apart of their own volition.
He stroked the lace of my panties and found them damp. I was treated to a moan that equaled my own when his other hand slipped into my bra. Just the tips of his fingers stroked across my nipple, but it was enough and I lit up, aroused and lost to sensation.
I slouched in the seat as my hips sought out his other hand. Julian didn't make me wait long, and deftly he shoved the lace aside and thrust two fingers into me. I cried out against his mouth, gripping his lapels like grim death.
Immediately he began to move and I pumped my hips meeting him with each thrust. Wrapped in his arms, his body covering mine, fingers and tongue buried inside me as I gripped him, mewling, I was lost.
Suddenly a trail of thought entered my mind, wondering at just where we were going and what the night was to bring. It didn't matter; he was lean, beautiful, poetic, and kinky, and with hands made for sin pushed me over the edge with long, deep strokes, his thumb resting over my clit.
I screamed with my release, and he swallowed my cry like it was fine wine. As I came down, still locked with him, his fingers still inside me and against my breast, I stroked my hand down to his hard cock. God, he was long. Though substantial in width it was his length that was most impressive and once again I felt my womb contract wondering how it would feel inside me. I squeezed down his cloth-covered cock loving the hard feel him hot and heavy against my palm. Julian shivered sweetly, his panting breaths hitching in the most delightful way.
"Not yet," he growled, and withdrew his fingers from my pussy to grab my hand roughly. Smiling apologetically he bent and kissed my palm, then held my hand as he sucked my juices from his fingers. All the while his other hand renewed the light butterfly-wings caress over my nipple.
"Julian!" I pled softly, but he just smiled.
"I want you hot, all through dinner."
I could only whimper at that. He ducked his head and tugged at my dress, slip, and bra until both my nipples slid free, pebbled hard in the cool air. Julian's other arm came around to massage a breast as his mouth claimed the peak of the other.
I cried out, head falling back, and in the rearview mirror I looked to see his cream colored hair spilling across my skin, but all I found were Pierre's eyes, blazing hot. I held his gaze, damn near climaxing right there with only my nipples being lavished with attention.
I sensed movement and found Andre had turned his head, eying us with a secretive smile. "Those nipples are so deliciously sensitive, I love the way you squirm and moan with every lick." His voice was a sensual rumble that suggested he was enjoying the show as much as if Andre were participating.
I couldn't help but groan. Just what the hell was going on? Where were we going?
Julian pulled back then and righted my dress with a lot of fumbling that serviced only to make my nipples harder and my panties damper.
Pierre glided the car to a stop as Julian helped me button up my coat, and then a doorman was helping me out. I could only smile when I saw where we were, recognizing the restaurant. Julian escorted me in with Andre following up, and Pierre got the stub from the valet.
The host showed us to a shadowy booth and they insisted I sit in the most hidden corner, with Andre on the outside, Julian on my other side, and Pierre's smiling face showing to the dining room. I let Julian select the wine and the sommelier was impressed.
Then our waiter came. I'd been here many times over the years as he worked there, a good friend from college I'd kept in touch with. We had a history that was sordid at points, but now we had comfortable friendship.
"Julio, darling! How are you?"
"Better now that you're here."
"Oh, Julio this is Andre, Julian, and Pierre. Boys, this is an old friend of mine, Julio."
Julio was practically drooling. Like me he favored men, and these were three prime examples of the species. "All three? Lucky girl. Everyone drinking the cabernet?"
"I'll take a gin ricky," Andre said.
"Unibroue Maudite," Pierre said with a smile to me.
"Wine for us," I said, indicating Julian and I.
Julio poured water and took Julian's appetizer order of oysters and crab cakes, the latter order quickly at my small grimace at oysters. When he left we discussed what to order but I knew for a fact the house surf 'n' turf was the best in town. I managed to convince Pierre to my way of thinking.
Julian held my hand beneath the cloth and whispered into my ear, asking polite permission to order for me. I had to decline, and explained Julio was a friend who would be confused, but I couldn't explain more with our damned rule in place.
Once, when Julio was still trying to decide if he liked boys or girls better, he and I had played Dominant and submissive. I had ordered him and his boyfriend to put a show on for me and had greatly enjoyed the experience of men at my beck and call, but time had changed both our tastes. Julio stayed in the gay BDSM scene with and I had left it all, preferring my men a bit more masculine than submissive.
Andre ordered the porterhouse, I had the surf 'n' turf with the filet rare, Julian had the fancy French chicken, and Pierre had the surf 'n' turn, his filet medium, and agreed to the extra charge for three jumbo shrimp. With the potatoes and vegetables added on I was glad my magic kept me slim and I wondered how much time it would cost the men in the gym. Unfortunately, that got me imagining them in the gym, and so I was drooling by the time the appetizers arrived. I'd missed the drinks' arrival completely. As much fun as thinking of them half naked and sweaty was, seeing them all dolled up was rapidly draining my IQ points.
Andre and Pierre got into a conversation about the Blackhawks as I nibbled at a crab cake. To my shock I felt one of Julian's artist's hands on my thigh.
"Did you know that oysters are aphrodisiacs?" He picked one up and brought it towards his lips.
"I've heard something to that effect."
"The trick is the zinc. It increases testosterone production, so this only works for men." Green eyes locked to mine, he swallowed the oyster in one go. How he managed to make it look sensual I had no idea, but he did.
"Great, like we need you any hornier." It came out far more breathy than I'd planned.
"You're right." He licked his thumb while his other hand skimmed up my thigh and immediately slipped beneath my panties. "I'm not the one who needs to be more aroused."
I was pliant in shock as his fingertips slowly circled my clit with unerring aim. I made a small whimper which drew notice from our dining companions, and though Pierre grinned, they turned back their conversation.
I gripped the tablecloth, my knuckles almost as white as the fabric. Smiling like a kitten just discovering its claws, Julian picked up a small crab cake and brought it to my lips. "Bite into it slowly. Yes, that's it. Feel that buttery flavor melt onto your tongue."
I wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but Julian seemed to have a fond connection between food and sex. Fine by me, in fact, more than fine. Perhaps I had left the fetish scene prematurely having played the wrong side. That discovery did not bother me; the tremor of fear came from the fact it was that this was happening in public, where all anyone had to do was peek around the back of the booth or walk past to the bathrooms, and they could see us. Somehow the fear spiced the arousal and pushed me higher.
I swallowed nervously as he brought another oyster up to his lips. Andre and Pierre had already taken what they wanted and were in deep discussion about some plumbing lines at the moment.
"Because it excites me. Can't you tell?" He leaned in close, nipping at my ear. "Put your hand on my cock, Anna."
Slowly I removed one fisted hand from the table and settled it on his lap. As gentle as he was, still tracing my clit with just light fingertips, I was fairly brutal. Squeezing, stroking, I wanted him right there with me.
He finished the oyster and grabbed another crab puff. Holding it to my lips he bent to my ear once more. "Not yet. God, I love kissing you when you cum. I love feeling you shake in my arms. I can't wait to be buried inside you when you scream my name."
"Oh, god," I moaned.
I took the damned crab cake but suddenly my appetite was for something darker than the meal. Just as orgasm loomed he stopped, moving his hand to rest on my inner thigh.
"Damn tease," I grumbled and he just kissed my cheek.
The food arrived and Julian made a show of licking my juices from his fingers before he moved the appetizers aside. Thank the gods he let me eat in relative peace, though he was careful to brush me with his arm, his thigh, made sure his scent surrounded me.
When I'd eaten what I could and pushed my plate away Julian refilled my wine glass. The four of us had been talking about politics but as the meal wound down Andre and Pierre resumed an earlier discussion.
"You are surprisingly kinky," I said as Julian poured his own glass.
He smiled and it was that shy, uncertain smile that was so endearing. "I am by nature creative. I enjoy unusual things, and it has given me unusual tastes. I have no shame."
"I should-" I broke off as Julio collected our dishes and took Julian's order of baked Alaska for desert with some port before to pass the time. "I should say not," I said as Julio left with a knowing smile as if he knew everything we had done.
Julian pressed me back against the booth but slid my hips forward, further under the table. "Let's see if you do."
And with a boneless grace, he slid beneath the table. Before I could say anything Andre and Pierre moved in closer, still talking as if I weren't there. I felt Julian's hands on my thighs, smoothing them, spreading my legs.
As Julio returned with the port Julian pushed my panties aside and wickedly licked me, long and slow. It took everything I had not to let the top of my head blow off. There was no way I could speak so I merely nodded at my friend, wishing him away quickly.
"Where's your date?" Julio asked as he set my glass down.
"In the, oh! Bathroom." I was blushing furiously and Julio just laughed and winked. He set the others down as Julian teased me with just the tip of his tongue, circling my clit.
Andre and Pierre didn't even break from their conversation so Julio was left with no feedback. Raising a dark brow my friend shook his head and walked off, fidgeting in a way that told me he was about to smoke or die laughing.
I gripped the booth and tried to remain quiet, but it was the most difficult thing I could remember doing.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Anna, you're supposed to be quiet," Pierre said suddenly as Julio disappeared around the corner. Then his mouth swooped down on mine and I let myself moan. Julian was doing magical things beneath the table.
I clutched at Pierre with one hand, and Andre sought out the other. Kissing my palm and slid in closer, whispering into my ear. "I must keep watch, but that doesn't mean I can't drive you even more mad."
He pulled back and I felt his broad hand stroking my breasts. As Pierre plundered my mouth and Julian possessed my aching cunt I was enthralled and lost, helplessly caught. Julian flicked at my clit as Pierre swirled his tongue around mine. Just then I felt my dress dip low and my nipples slid into cool air in the corner of a five star steakhouse in downtown Chicago.
Andre strummed his thick fingers across one nipple while his other hand massaged and stroked my other breast. I came like a rocket, grabbing onto Pierre, holding him, terrified he'd back away and let my scream fly free.
They all kept moving, drawing it out, and I was shaking, trembling, having fallen apart completely. After an eternity I came back to myself feeling Julian kissing my thighs, panties back in place, and Pierre straightening my dress. Andre drew me into a kiss before standing as Pierre moved back and I felt Julian rise.
Julian grabbed me and kissed me, pressing my own juices to my mouth. I was still on fire, still aching, needy, my blood thrumming with desire. He pulled back with a knowing smile and turned to his port.
Andre slid in on the other side of the booth and he and Pierre had resumed their conversation as if nothing happened. Something about how strange the situation was made my arousal pulse even more deeply.