April Rising

1.

The room was silent, lit only by the bright arc lamp which shone its beam onto one side, that of April. Her body naked knelt upon the bed with her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders and back, her head bent forward, in hiding from the light.

Then the music began, a slow soft drumbeat at first getting louder and rising in tempo with it her head began to raise in time to the rhythm. Then the music reached a crescendo and April flicked her head, sending the veil of soft flowing hair backwards from her face. A silent pause and the light illuminated her features. Eyes closed delicately, her pink painted lips loosely parted; her face was a vision of calmness and tranquillity. The music began again, an harmony of strings as her lace gloved hands slipped from her shoulders and over her breasts, fingers parted and relaxed, slowly drifting over each smooth mound of soft skin. Her fingers gripped, cupping her pink flesh, caressing her breasts with a gentle grasp.

April opened her eyes wide, revealing her sapphire blue orbs and reflecting the brightness of the light within them. Her lips parted and her tongue began to lick gently as if tasting them. Her mind was upon the music, creating a mantra for her deep thoughts and wild imagination as each thumb and finger took hold of her firm nipples.

She was aroused and excited by the music. She began to lament, a soft moan of satisfaction as her thumb and fingers began to pull at the rigid flesh of her dark pink buds. Tingles ran through her spine and seemed to travel to one focus in her groin, sending waves of delight through every nerve and sinew in her body. One hand released and glided downwards, touching her navel tenderly until reaching the mound of neatly trimmed pubic hair. The other hand moved upwards across her slender throat. With one laced finger extended she touched her lips and tongue and sucked upon it, closing her eyes once more in ecstasy with the music itinerant in her head.

Her senses became enlightened as her gloved finger made its way through moist folds of skin, probing into delicate labial petals and reaching its objective. With two other fingers she parted her pink petals, opening herself up she began to caress the un-hooded tiny swelling of her clitoris, bucking gently, breathing wildly and crying out as if lamenting in harmony to the music that surrounded her.

April held her breath as the music paused. Her eyes opened wide and at that exacting moment both hands came together in her groin, feeling the warm gush as she released. She had attained the highest peak of her orgasm and her body stiffened and trembled for a few seconds until she relaxed, letting out her breath and clutching as the soft rhythm of the music returned. She looked down at her breasts, firm and slightly flushed by the tension of her climax. Her nipples protruded like tiny stems, outwardly pointing and sensing the coolness of the air. Slowly in time with the music, she began to breathe at a normal pace, feeling the relaxing harmony around her. Slowly she removed both hands from her groin and felt the wetness of her nectar upon the white-laced fingers.

The music ended and April lay back. Resting her head into the silk pearl white pillow. She smiled to herself and raised her knees and with arms rested above her head in a sea of soft brown hair, she began to laugh.

After a shower, April draped herself in a towel and ran back into her bedroom. The video camera was still mounted in the corner of the room on a dressing table and it had captured her solitary performance earlier. Something she wanted to do for no apparent reason whatsoever. A whim, a fantasy and nothing else, only to capture herself having an orgasm to her favourite classical piece of music by Strauss.

It had become something she had perfected over the past few months. But to April it was making out to the music, as if making love to it. Mind and body in harmonious sexual union with the music itself.

She sat at the dressing table. She leaned forward and parted her damp hair to stare at her own face in the mirror and the thing she knew about herself most profoundly, was her stunning beauty. She was deeply in love with herself, vanity beyond recognition. But one thing it gave her was respect. She respected herself and her intelligence told her it was good and pure. Atleast she was someone special and confident. Her life as a model had paid off and she could do almost anything she wanted.

April did not need make-up, she had natural beauty. But the cosmetics simply enhanced it and framed it in such a way that made her stand out, turned heads in awe of it and made others envious of her. But then that was her life now and all she ever really wanted. Her childhood fairytale dreams had come true.

After applying her lip-gloss, she pouted and smiled. "God you are so sexy," she whispered to her own reflection. Then sat back and pulled away the towel from around her, revealing her firm breasts, to stare at them with admiration. They were perfectly formed and equal, the tone of flesh balanced between nipple and areola. She stood up and turned, the shape of her hips, the slimness of her tummy the smooth line of her buttocks and thighs were what every model could wish for. And she did nothing to achieve it other than to respect its naturalness.

That evening she arrived at the restaurant in an expensive designer blue dress that revealed her form. Her hair was tied back with a white silk ribbon and she was greeted by the headwaiter that took her to her host. Her jasmine perfume wafted across every nostril as she followed him through the seated guests at their tables.

Franco stood up and held out his hand to receive hers. He kissed it gently and she noticed his superb handsome physique. He was everything she had expected. Dark hair and dark romantic latin eyes. A smile that said everything she wanted to hear without words being spoken.

"I am so pleased you could be here this evening. You look wonderful, " he said. The headwaiter pulled back the chair for her to sit. "I thought that you would never be here."

"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm so late."

"No need to apologise. Atleast now you are here."

The waiter poured the wine for them both to examine, and they approved, allowing him to fill their glasses. April was more interested in her host and she gazed at his immaculate features as the waiter took their order. Franco was not only important to her for what he could manipulate in her career, but he was also someone that she dreamed of, a man she fantasised about quite often. Now he was across the table in person.

Despite him being twice her age, April found him exhilarating. She had always been attracted to older men, especially charismatic ones such as he. Afterall, Franco was famous too. She knew everything about him, learned of his life from tapes and magazines and had studied his work keenly.

"I am very surprised," he told her, "You have refused many acting contracts. Why is that?"

April rested her face in her hand and smiled, leaning towards him. "Simple. I am not an actress and have never aspired to be one or become one."

"I see. So you are not like the others."

"Others?"

"Yes, others. Supermodels. They have ambitions to become famous in the movies. Of course, not all of them have what it takes."

"Neither do I."

"But, how do you know?"

"Acting to me is an art which requires a certain skill to take on a certain character. I have never been good at that. The models you mention are not always acting as such. They simply look good for the camera. And I already do that as a model."

Franco laughed. "They warned me about that."

"About what?"

"Your intelligent wit and stubbornness."

"Really. And what else do 'they' say about me?"

"That you are gorgeous and hypnotic and very very charming."

Their meal arrived. They were important and special guests; the elite of the fashion world as was many that used that restaurant. And in silence they ate and drank wine to the soft music that played in the background.

"Chopin," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"The music. It is Chopin."

"Ahh! Yes I hear it. You like Chopin?"

"I love all classical and modern music. My father was a conductor and composer in his own right. I grew up with it. Music is part of my life"

"That is something I did not know."

April looked at him and smiled, "Well now you do."

Their repast over, Franco found his way to discuss the reason for their meeting. He explained to her his desires to have her in one of his advertising projects. "Not exactly acting as you say," he made a point of explaining. "You will be modelling, selling the product as it were in movies. A new horizon for you to explore perhaps?"

The waiter came over to replenish their empty wine glasses. April covered hers with a hand, not wishing to have anymore. "Is the wine not to your taste, madam?"

"It was wonderful, but I have had enough thank you." Franco looked at her and then at the waiter, with one nod of his head he dismissed him and the wine bottle.

"Do you prefer to go somewhere else?" Franco asked.

"A nightclub?"

"Do you have one you wish to go to?"

April looked at him. She had a certain place in mind that was daring. A place that she loved to visit, but not well known. And she knew Franco would never have been there, but wanted him to go.

Their private car took them across the city, through the busy streets, lit up by neon signs. Franco was a stranger here and far from his native Italian home of Naples.

"Is this nightclub your favourite place?" Franco asked. His eyes looked at her in admiration as she sat beside him. She knew that he desired her, and wanted to remove every layer of her clothing and feel her naked skin on his fingertips. She had become accustomed to men like him and their intentions.

"Yes. You could say that."

"And our business? What of my proposition?"

"You will know when I have decided," she replied with a smile, looking at him from the corners of her eyes as she felt his gaze upon her. "After we have had some fun of course."

Franco had become enchanted. She could do anything she wanted to him. Anything meant everything within reason. The car pulled up outside a nightclub in a secluded back street side. Franco stepped out and offered his hand. He looked at the closed doors that gave no indication as to where they were, only that it was part of the establishment she directed them to.

"We will call you when we need you," he told the driver. At that, the car drove away into the main street leaving them alone. It was a side entrance and April walked over to the doors, knocking three times on them as Franco stood back to watch. The low hatch opened and she told the person inside whom she was. The doors opened and a dwarf stood in the frame. Silently he bowed and allowed them both to enter.

"Thank you, Alfred," she told him.

"Have a pleasant evening madam, sir," Alfred replied with a grin that spread across his face from ear to ear.

2.

Franco was curious. "Are we not good enough for the front entrance?" he asked looking at Alfred. The dwarf locked the doors securely and led the way ahead down a dimly lit passage, wide enough for them to walk in single file. "I have to say this is very mysterious." The sound of April's heels echoed, drowning out the dull dance music coming from the club.

"I like mysteries." April replied. Franco followed her, watching the sway of her hips as she followed the dwarf through a single padded door. He led them down a spiral staircase, which took them into the bowels of the premises. At the bottom they entered another room through doors, which Alfred opened without entering. "Thank you Alfred." Once more he bowed, allowing them in with the same unaltered smile on his face.

Franco looked around. The sight that met his eyes astounded him. There were table's set up and each one had two people sat in candlelight. There were men with men and women with women and the usual male and female couplings. April led Franco to a vacant table and they sat.

"So this is a private nightclub?" he asked.

"Yes. Very private."

The smooth jazzy music played softly and everyone seemed to be looking and whispering about the couple that had just arrived in their company. Franco politely nodded and smiled at some of them and they acknowledged likewise. "It is very dull. I expect it will liven up soon?" he asked.

"Oh yes. It will, very soon." April replied, grinning at her guest.

"So, your father was a musician? You say was. Is he not with us anymore?"

"He died when I was fifteen." April rested her arms on the table and her mind drifted momentarily, thinking of yet another man in her life she once admired. "He was a very good musician, although not as famous as some."

"I see. I am sorry to hear of that."

"No. It's ok."

Franco turned quickly to notice the waitress that had arrived at their table. She was tall, blonde hair tied back and wearing only a black thong. His eyes rested upon her full breasts, dark pink raised areola and nipples rouged the same colour as her lipstick. "Can I get you anything, Sir, Madam?"

"Yes. I think your best champagne would be nice right now."

"No sir. I was referring to me?" the waitress replied.

Franco looked back at April who was smiling once again. She studied the look of surprise upon his face and waited for him to say something. "What is this?"

"She wants to know what you want of her?"

"Of her?"

"Yes. Her body and her affections perhaps."

"But April, I don't understand?"

"Come now Franco, I think you understand what she means. What is your name?" April asked the waitress.

"Marion Madam."

"Well Marion, I think Franco would like you to remove your thong first of all."

Marion slowly slipped the thong down her thighs and bent forwards to remove them. "Stay!" April ordered. "Stay like that, turn and let Franco take a look at you from behind."

"This is not what I expected." Franco laughed. Marion turned, her buttocks facing him and his eyes fixed upon the partly open crease that gave him a view of her lips, folded like petals surrounded by a thin nest of dark blonde pubic hair.

"You're looking." April said. And so was every other guest in the room. Their eyes also fixed upon Franco, expressionless and silent. "Do you like what you see?"

"I'm not sure what this is all about."

"Its about you and Marion. What would you like to do to her?"

Franco laughed, this time with a hint of nervousness. "I can think of lots of things I would like to do to her. What is more important, it is what she is doing to me right now."

"And what would that be?" April asked.

"Well..." Once again she waited for his answer. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"Why would it be? Marion, stand up straight and show Franco what your speciality is."

Marion turned him gently and knelt between his open thighs looking him in the face. She began to loosen his jacket and then open his trouser buttons. Franco remained motionless, turning to April and then at what Marion was doing. Slowly and gently she placed her hand inside and he felt her touch him. He was limp and her actions soon began to change that. The guests could see only Marion with her hand inside his garments, but it was Franco alone who could feel it. His manhood becoming harder each stroke she gave him. "Are you enjoying it?" April asked.

"I am a man. Of course I am enjoying it." April watched as his expression shown signs of fighting his feelings. He was becoming aroused and yet he resisted because of where he was and the situation he found himself in.

"Marion how is he?"

"He is very hard Madam, and very wet."

"Make him cum."

"Yes Madam."

Marion's strokes became more rapid and Franco found it even harder to resist. He was in a world trapped between pleasure and anxiety and the pleasure took over as he threw his head back and began to breathe rapidly. April watched his eyes close tight as his body began to buck on the chair and he bit his lower lip letting out a moan of satisfaction. Marion stopped and then stood up. "It is done Madam."

"Thank you, that will be all for now." April dismissed her and she walked away slowly swaying and swinging her thong in her hand. Franco remained still and opened his eyes, turning to April.

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

"It was what you wanted."

"I never expected that to happen. What is this place?"

"It is my dream made reality." April replied.

"Yours? You own this club?"

"Just this basement, yes."

"Then all I can say is, you are a strange girl April and your sense of fun is outrageous. What happens now?"

"Follow me."

April led the way through the tables and Franco followed, fastening his trousers and nodding and smiling at the guests that still had their eyes fixed upon him, and still expressionless. "And who are they?" he asked himself.

They entered a room and April closed the door behind them. In the room was a desk and chair, lit only by a lamp-stand. April leaned against the table and folded her arms looking at him. "You want me don't you Franco?"

"For the contract? Yes."

She laughed. "That and something else?"

"You mean, do I want to make love to you? What man could resist that opportunity? But this I still don't understand. Why are you playing this game?"

"What game?"

"You invite me here and then allow this to happen. Why?"

She moved towards him and they stood close, without embrace. Franco was pulled in by her insatiable attraction, leaning in to kiss her. She opened her lips and he sucked upon her tongue until their kiss grew passionate. His hand found the split in her dress, which ran along her smooth thigh, and April grasped his wrist before he reached her hip, parting the kiss quickly. "No. Not yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I need a favour," she told him.

"What kind of favour?"

"Will you do anything for me. Anything I ask of you?"

"Yes. To be able to touch you and make love to you, I will do anything."

"Then sit down and listen to me."

He sat down and brushed back his hair, watching her every move she made as she opened the draw of the desk. April took out a large green envelope and placed it on the top. "This is important. And I need your word that you will do this favour for me." Franco had calmed himself and began to wonder what help she wanted. "I want you to deliver this." She handed him the envelope. It was bulky but soft to the touch.

"What is it?"

"That doesn't matter. Will you do it for me?" April sat astride his lap, allowing the dress to fall open along the splits so that he could see her pale blue panties tight against her groin. He watched as she gently slid forwards, allowing the neckline to plunge and give him a view of her silken skin and the well-rounded form of her breast.

"Tell me more. Where am I to deliver this?"

"When you return to Naples, you must deliver it to the name and address of the person written on the label." Franco looked and read it.

"I know this person."

"Yes I know you do," she replied, stroking his face with the backs of her fingers gently. "That is why I am asking you for this favour." She gently pulled his face to hers and then kissed him. Franco wanted more of the kiss, but she placed her fingers upon his lips. "No."

"Then I accept. Can we make love now?"

"Not yet. I must be sure that you do this for me."

"Of course I will."

"No. Not now and not here." Her slender fingers stroked his lips as he looked at her; his expression was full of curiosity.

"When?"

"When I come to Italy to work for you."

"But that isn't certain. Does this mean that you accept the contract?"

"Of course." She smiled and then kissed him. He held her close and she realised that the envelope was between them and quickly pulled back. "You must take care of it. Keep it safe, do not bend it or open it for any reason."