Amorous Goods: Scar Tissue

"You were right," she nearly purred. "Spars and rigging of a tall ship." To Dylan, she said, "Of course you're a sailor."

Dylan didn't know how to respond. Had he been insulted or complimented? Did the witch and the succubus think he was all sticks and string, or sturdy spruce and braided rope? "Glad to meet you," he croaked.

J.J. finally released his hand and turned back to Morgana. "You've managed to get back just in time. The Bridgerton sisters are in town and we're going to meet them at Coven." She turned back to Vikki and said, "And you are more than invited to join us. If you want to hear some good Ludwig Freitag stories, those two sluts will get your juices flowing." Taking a step back toward Dylan, she took his hand again. "Alas, this is a girls' night out, so I'm afraid I can't invite you as well. But I do hope we meet again. I've always enjoyed climbing into the rigging of a strong ship under full sail. The waves and wind make for such an exciting journey."

Dylan was once again speechless. And he stayed that way as the three women made their way first to Vikki's quarters to help her choose an appropriate ensemble for the night's adventure, and then out of Amorous Goods. When he could finally move freely again, the shocked sailor rushed through locking up the shop and then locking himself into his own bedroom. He stripped off and went hunting on his laptop for a fetish movie he hadn't thought he would ever watch again. We're definitely not in Kansas anymore, he told himself.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Thank you, Gregory, that was delicious," said Lina, referring to the peach cobbler he had served her, accompanied by a dry Riesling wine. She carried her glass with her as they moved from his kitchen table to the living room.

"It's Gregorisch, actually," said Greg.

"What?" Lina asked in confusion.

"Greg is short for Gregorisch, not Gregory," he said as he sat next to her on his sofa. It was my great-grandfather's name."

"Oh. Is your family from Russia?"

"No, we're from the Czech Republic. Of course, it was Czechoslovakia when they migrated to the U.S. And the old ones still referred to it as Bohemia."

"Bohemia? Is that a real place? I always thought it was, um, a fashion style or way of living. Like, the Hippies were really Bohemian. Or Bohemian Rhapsody."

Greg laughed. "I think that's probably how most Americans think about it. But yeah, Bohemia is a real place. It's the western part of the Czech Republic and in the past it was considered a Duchy or Kingdom on its own. The Thirty Years War started there, when the Holy Roman Emperor, Ferdinand II, who was the King of Bohemia, was deposed briefly by the Protestants."

She raised her eyebrows. "Is that family lore or did someone pay attention in history class?"

"Mostly family lore," he smiled.

"And which side did your family fight on?"

"I'm sure on both sides. We are talking about the 1600's after all and the roots and branches of the family tree certainly crossed and re-crossed many cultural, political, and religious lines over that time. The ones I know the most about, that I've actually met, are mountain folk that live deep in the Sudetes range."

For the rest of the glass of wine, they talked about family and trips to Bohemia and Mexico. When Greg leaned in to pick up her empty glass for a refill, Lina also leaned forward and kissed him with intent.

When they broke, she said, "Thank you for being so patient with me. I think I'm ready to speed things up now."

He put the glass down on the table and then surprised her by not moving forward, but by sitting back. His hands moved to his chest and he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and then the second. "How about we pick up where we left off last night?" he asked.

Her grin reached from ear to ear as the third, fourth and fifth buttons opened, then she was on him like a zombie, sinking her teeth into the beautiful flesh.

"Oh, fuck!" he blurted when he felt the bite, but it was over in a second.

She pulled back just long enough to see her handiwork. No broken skin, but definitely marked. Mine! Then she dove back in, but with lips and tongue this time. She explored him, growing wet from the erotic feeling of his small, hard nub under her tongue tip. Gently, gently she closed her teeth on one nipple, while her fingers pinched the other. He whimpered and her pussy wept tears of joy.

When she relaxed her bite and grip and Greg felt out of danger, he quickly turned the tables. Getting his hands into her armpits, and his right foot down solidly on the floor, he drove her back until she was laid out on the sofa with her head against the opposite sofa arm. In just a few heartbeats he had her silk blouse open. Her rose-coloured brassiere was lacy and in a minor miracle, had a front clasp.

Time slowed down as he opened it and peeled the cups away, exposing beautiful breasts heaving on her chest. Her areolae weren't much darker than her smoky skin, but they were large as half dollars. From the centre of each, slightly darker nipples strained toward him. He noticed how her heavy makeup made her face much paler than her body. For the first time he thought of it as whorish. He bared his teeth and what sounded like a growl rolled around in his throat.

"Do it," she said, cupping her breasts underneath and squeezing them toward him.

Greg leaned in and opened his mouth wide, lips pulled back. When he couldn't fit any more tit inside his mouth he began to press down.

"Uunnhh," she groaned. He held his teeth where they were and tickled her nipple with his tongue.

When her panting turned animalistic again, he bit down the next micrometre.

"Unh, unh!" The pitch of her grunts went up, with a more desperate note to them. He relaxed his teeth and gently sucked on the hard pebble of brown flesh.

"It's such a fine line," she finally managed to gasp out.

He responded to her observation by taking her nipple gently between his teeth and pulling it out from her chest. The tip of his tongue continued pulsing against the tip of her nub.

"Oh, God! Oh, God, oh, God."

Then he copied her own move on him from just moments before, by taking her other nipple between thumb and forefinger. He pulled it away from her chest and rotated his hand a quarter turn, giving her a twist to go with the squeeze and pull. Lina lost it.

"Oh, my God!" she shrieked, and her pelvis came thrusting up off the sofa as the days of building excitement exploded in her first ever nipple orgasm.

After one long heartbeat, he released teeth and fingers and reversed direction on her nipples. The flat of his tongue pressed hard against her left nip, while the palm of his left hand pressed her right nub back into the mound of tit flesh.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted as she gave herself over to his control.

When her panting slowed, he released the pressure. His tongue drew lazy circles around her areola on one side, while his fingertips spread and closed, gently stroking the soft skin of her other breast.

"Oh, God, Greg. I didn't even know that was possible."

He raised one eyebrow doubtfully. He'd been sure he had a tit pain fetishist on his hands.

"Seriously, I've never done anything like that, and I don't know what made me want to try it now.

"Oh, shit. Did I hurt you?" she gasped when he leaned back and she registered the bite mark she'd left on his pec.

Greg tucked his chin down to survey the damage.

"No blood, no foul," he tossed out in amusement.

"But it's going to bruise," she said quietly, before looking up at him with worried eyes.

"No more than you," he replied, nodding his head at her chest. The marks of his teeth were well defined in her lovely flesh.

She cupped her right tit in her hand and lifted it up so she could better see the top of the mound. He was right, she was going to have a circle around her areola for a few days at least.

"Good," she finally said. "I deserve it after teasing you so much yesterday."

"Hmm," he mused. "I'm not really into punishment, per se. But I do believe in keeping things even."

She looked a question at him.

"That seemed like a pretty good orgasm," he said. "Not to mention one of the hottest I've ever seen."

"It was good," she purred. "And I completely agree we should even that score."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Greg got to his knees, straddling one of her legs and Lina reached forward to undo his pants. She got them open and inserted her hand for her first feel of his organ. Not hard yet but firming up nicely. She released it and pushed on his chest, signalling him that it was his turn to lay back so she could properly attend to his long-suffering manhood.

As she got up on her knees a sound came from the entry hall. She paused.

"It's not the Valkyries, can you ignore it?" he groaned after deducing that the muffled music must be from Lina's phone, in her handbag in the hall.

Actually, if it had been the Valkyries, her mother or her aunt, she would have ignored it. But this ring tone was for her 19-year-old sister, Marisol. Marisol, who knew she was on a date with Greg and had heard enough about him to know what Lina was going to be getting up to with her potential new boyfriend. Little sister certainly wouldn't want to interfere with a phone call.

Lina had set her phone to go to voicemail after three rings, so it quickly went quiet. After a few more seconds, she heard the muffled ping that indicated an incoming text. Good, she could catch up with her sister later. As for right now, however. She took hold of Greg's pants at each hip and began pulling. He lifted his ass up off the cushion and they slid down to his knees. Her hands went back to his hips and gripped the maroon briefs that covered a very interesting lump in his lap. Very interesting indeed, she thought as she pulled down and the lump uncoiled.

Just as she parked his briefs with his pants and began sliding her hands up his thighs, her phone rang again. This time with her father's ringtone.

"No, really?" Greg moaned when she stopped mid-thigh and her head tilted toward the sound of the phone as if beyond her control.

"I'm sorry," said Lina. "First was my sister and now it's my father. That never happens."

He forced himself into a more relaxed tone. "Go ahead." He gripped his joint and slowly stroked its growing length. "I'll be right here waiting, and I'll want your full attention when you're done."

God, it was beautiful. She bounced up onto her feet, then bent down and pulled his pants and underpants all the way off. "FULL attention," she promised as she skipped across the living room to the entry hall and snagged her purse.

Lina pressed Dial on the missed call and put the phone to her ear. "Sí, Papá?" she said while holding a naked breast out toward Greg.

He put his other hand into his crotch and cupped his balls as he waggled his staff back at her. Then he froze. Her face had shifted, had snapped from happy to anxious, just like that.

"What? What!?" she barked into the phone.

"Oh, my God, was anybody hurt?"

Greg sat up straight on the couch, both feet flat on the floor.

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can. Twenty minutes."

By the time she'd hung up with her father and sent out her Uber request, Greg was at her side.

"What is it?"

"A robbery. Or an attempted robbery. At the restaurant."

"Your mom and aunt? Are they okay?"

"Yes, thank God. Apparently, my dad arrived to pick them up just after the bad guys made their move to go inside and when he lit them up with his high beams and horn from right behind, they freaked and ran. But in all the fear and excitement, my mother slipped or tripped and hurt her ankle so bad they took her to the hospital."

As she spoke, she laid her phone down on the hall table and closed up her bra and blouse. Then she registered that Greg was standing there with no pants on and his cock still standing at half strength.

"Oh, shit, I'm doing it again," she moaned, looking down at the fading erection.

She reached out and took him in her hand. "It's not really an emergency, you know. I could at least leave you even on orgasms." She looked at him with some of her earlier wickedness.

He took her by the wrist and extracted his prick from her grip. "No," he said. "I don't want you distracted or in a hurry. Go, be with your family and come back when I can have you all to myself again."

"I'm leaving you with blue balls two nights in a row. You're never going to call me again."

He laughed and took his rod in his own hand. "I'll take care of this myself, like I did last night."

Her eyes popped up to his. "You did?"

"Of course. Didn't you?" he challenged.

Her eyes dropped. "I did," she admitted.

"Of course, tonight, after all the biting, I'm afraid my thoughts of you are going to be much less wholesome than last night."

Her eyes squinted as she brought them back up to his. She clutched the tit he'd abused the worst in her hand as she said, "And I'm going to be very unwholesome, while I think of you tonight." She squeezed tighter and whimpered.

"Oohh," he groaned as he stroked his reviving cock with more purpose.

Her phone pinged.

"Fuck!" they said in unison, then both laughed.

"Give my best to your mother," he said.

She wrapped her hand around his on his cock and said, "I think I'm going to save the best for myself." She snapped forward at the waist and put the swollen head into her mouth for a quick suck. When she stood back up, she kept hold of his prick as she went up on tiptoes to kiss his lips. "But I will tell her you send your regards." She smiled, tossed her phone into her bag, and was out the door.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Friday morning, Dylan stumbled groggily into the big kitchen around 7:45. He hadn't done any drinking the night before, but he also hadn't slept all that well. His slumber had been broken up by vivid dreams of naked female Munchkins gangbanging him, while Morgana Delacroix sat on a throne in sheer black robes and zapped him periodically with an eerily glowing wand to restore his erection. He'd ended up masturbating three times from the women's departure until the last time he woke up, around one in the morning.

Vikki was already there, standing by the professional-grade stove top. When she saw him come in, she poured cracked eggs from a bowl into a hot pan and began scrambling.

Dylan saw she also had the coffee made and he went over for a cup. He was surprised to see her up already and especially so active. Hell, the only reason he'd dragged himself out of bed so early this morning was because he'd thought he'd have to open the shop up for her. When he'd awakened at one a.m., he'd gone out to check on her, and as far as he could tell without actually going into her room, she wasn't home yet.

"I thought you might sleep in after a late night with the girls," he said as he slid onto the bench of the breakfast nook in the corner.

"They are a wild bunch," she laughed. "But somehow, I woke up feeling energized, rather than drained. And there are some things that came out of last night that we need to talk about."

Dylan perked up. Of course, he was dying to hear all about what had gone on at Coven, which he'd thought was a lesbian club on the east side. Or a lesbian BDSM club. Now he wondered if it was a BDSM club for lesbian witches. He'd figured he'd have to be all coy and subtle to get the story out of her, and here she was offering it up on a plate. Just like she was suddenly offering him eggs scrambled with ham and cheese.

"Thanks," he said, his appetite suddenly up. "So, what happened last night?" He put on his listening face and dug in.

"I think it's time to reopen The Amorous Inn," said Vikki.

Dylan's eyes shot up. This was an idea that had come up earlier but had been dropped by mutual consent. The last they'd talked about it; Vikki's original plan was still in place. Being shopkeepers or hoteliers wasn't what either of them had wanted, but they did think someone else might want to do that with the Amorous Goods property. But they were picturing nice, normal businesses moving in, so Vikki had recruited Dylan to help her sell off all the weird stuff her Uncle Ludwig had collected so that she could then sell the empty mansion to a hotel chain or someone who wanted to set up a boutique hotel. They'd only re-opened Amorous Goods as an active shop to generate some income while they tried to recover the more dangerous items they'd sold off in a cheap rush before understanding their nature and potential.

Now she was talking about also reactivating the upper two floors of the mansion, which Ludwig Freitag had operated as a very specialized hotel. All the sleeping rooms were decorated in some sort of erotic theme, and the large saloon on the top floor had been the main party room for dozens, possibly hundreds, of swinger parties over the years. Parties where many of the enchanted sexual objects in the Amorous Goods collection were used as party favours.

"I know, I know," Vikki said in response to his unspoken comment. "But the crowd last night has apparently enjoyed many a night or weekend here, both as couples and as parts of groups, and they really miss the place. They say there's nowhere else like it." She held up a palm when he opened his mouth. "And apparently it's a much bigger moneymaker than we ever realized."

Dylan closed his mouth but tilted his head sideways in question.

"The clubs that rented the place paid top-dollar." She glanced around the big kitchen. "This has obviously been updated since the 1800's and it turns out that it's designed so that caterers can come here and service a large group without having to drag food from their own place. And oh, by the way, there may have been just as many, or more, non-swinger events hosted here. Wedding receptions and school reunions, for example.

"Anyway, you know the finances as well as I do. Ludwig's insurance protected me from the initial inheritance expenses, and the operating funds he'd set up for the place have allowed us to keep it in shape with the utilities on. But if we don't find more income, we're going to have trouble keeping it open so we can continue with our research and recoveries."

Dylan hung out in the store with Vikki during her whole morning shift as they talked over and around the many aspects of such a large expansion of their efforts.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Neither Lina nor Greg had used the word anniversary, but one week after first hooking up at Henrietta's dance club, they were back there for another Friday night. This time however, they only had their two main wingmen, Tory and Jason with them. Lina was bringing everybody up to date on the previous night's drama over a round of margaritas.

"So, the two idiots split up and one is so busy looking back to see if my dad is chasing him, that he runs straight into a streetlamp, breaks his jaw, and knocks himself out. The other one ducks into a Seven-Eleven two blocks over and apparently tries to act all nonchalant and blend in, only he forgets to take off his face mask. So, when he steps up to the counter to buy something he grabbed off the shelf, like he's just another shopper, the clerk has already hit the silent alarm and has his pistol out. He holds the guy until the cops come and they're both in custody in less than ten minutes."

Greg, Tory, and Jason busted out laughing.

"And Ramona's going to be okay?" asked Tory. As Lina's long-time friend, she was the only one who knew her mom.

"Yeah," answered Lina. "Nothing broken on the X-ray, and they think it's just a really bad sprain. They'll do an MRI tomorrow just to be sure. She'll have to stay off her feet a couple of days and then use crutches for a while. But you know my mom, we'll probably have to tie her down to keep her from going to the restaurant as soon as they release her."