At the Summit Ch. 05

"This time it is your turn to lay back and enjoy the mirror," she said. "Just lie there for the moment..."

She climbed down from the bed and tiptoed across to the window, raising the shade so that the moonlight and streetlight illuminated the room in a cool glow. He watched her return, backlit by the light of Diana the Huntress it seemed to him. In her sensual walk, her legs were slightly parted at one point, and her curls glowed between them when caught in the light. He felt an unplanned flexing between his thighs.

She swung up onto the bed more fluidly than before, having now experienced its height, and knelt over Dean. She licked her lips.

Her hair touched his stomach as she came down on him, and her scent enveloped him just before her guiding hand guided brought his penis to her lips. Adoring kisses trailed up its length, until the red of her lips reached its head and captured him.

Laetitia cradled his balls in her hand as she surrounded his tip. Dean abandoned himself to the deep yearning which swept over him, yearning which was magnified by her subtle exploration of his manifest excitement.

For too long the urgent pressure built while she stopped and pulled back to admire her creation, maintaining her touch with her hand,caressing, teasing, studying. He looked up almost helplessly as his honeylike fluid stretched from the flowing tip. The mirror showed him his Laetitia's back, curving down to her hips. The cool air seemed to increase his desire, and in an involuntary motion his straining member tugged eagerly at her hand.

Dean's French pupil held his penis to her lips, and drew it in. Swirling her tongue around and over him, and then sucking in the familiar rhythm, she brought him to the edge of orgasm.

Her hand felt the lurch as his balls offered up their contribution, Dean's hips moved powerfully and then it was hers. In her own pleasure at her success with renewing his sexual powers, she had not thought what to do with it. It seemed to be everywhere as they writhed in a mutual frenzy of kisses, tongues and sticky silliness.

After they had cleaned up as best as they could, they laughed about it.

"The spontaneity, it is a good idea," Laetitia observed with a moist-lipped smile, "but there are some things that one should plan a head for." As before, Dean wondered if she meant the double entendre, and then she nudged him playfully.

"Caught you wondering again, didn't I?"

He admitted that she had.

She stretched out beside him, cuddling against his masculine angles. They both found themselves looking up into the mirror, and saw their contrasting sensual forms clad only in moonlight. They drifted away to dreams deeper than before.

Suddenly, a faint light crept across the intimate couple and began to draw them back to the land of the living. It intensified to a Broncos Orange in the hazy clouds framed in the window, lighting them from beneath. On the edges were colors of pink and purple, fading into the dark skirts of retreating night.

Dean stirred and Laetitia rose with him. He found her robe, placed it on her shoulders against the chill, and drew her wordlessly to the high window, comfortable in his own nudity.

"Look!" he emphasized, "everything close to us is silhouetted in the deepest black-- there are no grays in this time of day."

"Yes," Laetitia whispered back, "the day begins very simply-- it gets complicated later on!" Dean kissed her impulsively as he realized how perfectly she understood his meaning.

In the foreground were the gnarled old trees of North Denver, forming patterns against the sky of delicate black lace. Further back in the the windowed picture, Downtown buildings became a cardboard cut-out, like the backdrop in a fin de siecle theatre.

This was not a still-life. Black shapes of birds moved urgently across the sky, and above them a handful of dark, dolphin-shaped clouds scudded crosswise beneath the cloud arch, as if on some independent mission. The lights of a newspaper carrier's pick-up truck moved hesitantly in the dark below, the driver no doubt focusing sleepy eyes on the street numbers ahead.

Suddenly, it was the moment before true dawn, the coldest time of the day, and Dean felt his nakedness. Laetitia drew him closer to her, tried to open her robe and draw him into its folds. The sensation was very pleasant as he buried himself in her embrace, felt the tips of her breasts pressing against his chest, and her pelvis against him. They kissed, a long and tender kiss, and then the Rocky Mountain sun blazed through the clear air over the buildings and drove them from their window lookout.

The old-fashioned tub was big enough for both of them. They splashed like children, scrubbed each other, and tossed soap foam missiles in gleeful abandon. For Dean, it was decades since he had enjoyed a woman's touch in the bath, and for Laetitia it was an intimate experience adding to her growing list. When they paused in their mirthful pastime, they found themselves simply gazing at each other.

"I feel as though there is a very strong bridge built between us, and it will be frustrating not to be able to be with you," Laetitia finally said.

"It needs to be strong, because you know that it is going to have to last our lifetimes in our minds. Both of us are headed in different directions in our lives from here." Dean wondered if he was going to start quoting Rick to Ilse from "Casablanca."

Just as a serious look crossed his young partner's face, there was a knock on the door.

"Room service!" It was Val's voice, laughing. "Breakfast is here."

"Just hold on a minute!" Dean called back.

"Having fun in there?" Deborah's voice added jokingly, as Dean and Laetitia splashed their way out of the tub, and hastily toweled each other down. They threw on their robes as the water gurgled down the drain of the claw-footed monster that had held them.

"We thought that you might like breakfast up here," Deborah added as Dean opened the door. The two women wheeled in a well-stocked trolley of breakfast goodies. They started to leave.

"No, stay!" urged Laetitia. "We have extra chairs, and it would be nice to talk with you. It's okay with you, Dean, yes?" It was an afterthought to include him, but he did not mind. Having breakfast in a bedroom with three sexually aware women did not seem like a bad idea, even if it really was only a breakfast.

They talked about Denver, talked about Paris, talked about the preparations for the upcoming Summit. Somehow, Laetitia managed to bring the conversation to a point where she could ask about young Tony, whose noisy late night departure had led to such pleasant results for her and Dean.

"Yes, he dropped by to make sure that we knew that your Lepeniste friend from the park was tucked in at the Denver County Jail. He said that he wanted you to know that he was very thorough, in case you ever need his work again."

"How did that happen?" Laetitia asked in amazement.

"It seems that he was found in a crack house down on West 12th when the police were tipped that they would find someone else who they were looking for." Val spoke in a sardonic tone. "When they busted their way in, they found Mr. Lepiniste sitting groggily in an easy chair, with so much evidence stacked around that they had to take him in. And, to top it off, he seemed to have no i.d.! He could shout in any language that he had diplomatic immunity all that he liked, but it took till dawn to figure out that he was who he said he was. Still, I don't think that they believed his story as to how he got into the house."

Laetitia told them how Dean had sent another presumed Lepeniste to the county's hospital. She wondered what sort of retaliation might eventually result.

"I'm not sure, but if you stay in town longer, Dean, our property taxes are going to be increased," Val kidded him. "You keep making work for our public agencies."

Laetitia began to speak, but as if anticipating her next question, Deborah answered: "When Tony arrived to give us the rundown, we were making milkshakes since we never had time for a proper dinner ourselves with all these things going on. We invited him to stay and shared with him."

Dean raised his eyebrow and looked at the two.

"Did he prefer Double Chocolate or Double Strawberry?" He leered comically at the proprieteresses.

Deborah chuckled and then remained demurely silent.

Val never missed a beat, and came back with a question which sent all four of them into fits of blushing laughter.

Glancing at the robed couple, still flushed and glistening from their tender time in the tub, she asked smoothly whether "you, Dean, have a taste for double French Vanilla?" Laughter rocked the bedroom.

When they quieted for a moment, Laetitia completed the circle by licking her lips as she described to the two women how much she would enjoy a Banana shake. And so breakfast passed in gentle teases and tender tales full of kindness, leaving everyone in a hugging mood when the dishes were cleared away. After Val's riposte, Dean had little to say, but he enjoyed simply listening to the three. His honest pleasure in the company of women gave them a subtle boost.

"Perhaps you two want to get dressed?" Deborah asked.

"Non!" Laetitia responded, and they giggled.

Nevertheless, they were driven from the room by the clock. Everyone agreed that there were too many things yet undone that day. The unusual couple found themselves alone together again. Dean saw that the Frenchwoman had a tear in her eye.

Instinctively, he embraced her once again, and the understanding conveyed in his action touched her heart. Great tears began to flow, streaming down over her cheeks and dropping onto the curve of her breasts. They ran across her nipples pressed against his chest, they moistened his own cheeks as he kissed her.

"I find it hard to understand how I can care so much for someone that I came to in such a strange way," she whispered. "You have touched me in a way that I was not expecting."

"Laetitia, you have done the same to me, and I am grateful for that. But you have so much good sense that you know this has to end."

"Non! It must not end! But....." and her eyes dropped as she realized that he was right in a way. "But it will never end in my memories. You have touched my heart, and I love you for it."

Dean whispered his agreement with her, and gently stroked her back. She molded herself to him, enjoying his angularity against her supple body, losing herself in the softness of his words. In her reverie, she did not notice the change in the flow of his thoughts directed to her.

"Laetitia, as you enjoy the feeling of intimacy between us, you will recall how you felt as I caressed your forehead last night." She nodded agreement. He felt her relaxing in his arms as she turned inward to that memory.

"You feel yourself relaxing even more now, as my voice penetrates your thoughts. Just as it felt good to have me inside you, now you enjoy focusing on my voice..." She giggled briefly and then her eyes focused on some distant point. Her relaxation was complete and she would accept Dean's commands.

Late in 1997

Sophia pushed away from me, leaving a cold spot on my chest.

"What!? He's hypnotizing her. That isn't very kosher is it?" She glared at me for knowing Dean.

"I think that you will approve once you hear the whole story," I said, somewhat defensively. "And after all, some people would call Dean a spy, and that's not a profession known for following conventional rules in relationships."

"That's not an excuse... but let's have the rest of the story, Richard." Sophia would withhold judgment. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued.

To be continued...