Bishop's Red Light Romp Ch. 01

It was twenty minutes later; just as the cab pulled up and the freshly showered young stud hurried out the door with a kiss (and a lie from Annette that she wanted to see him again sometime), that was when she received the text.

"BOSS WHATEVER IT IS PUT IT IN A CAB AN SEND IT HOME NEED U IN AMSTERDAM"

She chuckled as she sat in a robe at the table over a half finished glass of juice, the sound of the rest of her breakfast sizzling in a pan being guided by the capable hands of Felicia. The cubs may have gotten themselves in trouble in Amsterdam. Oh well, she liked trouble.

She'd allowed them to go off and spearhead an acquisition for Praetorian Group in Holland. This was a chance for the two to shine and do preliminary assessments (and it was also a validation for Annette's special projects directorate; upon which she'd placed her two former interns at the helm of). It was their chance to shine but it was also Annette's chance to take a risk; more than a few corporate opponents would be watching at a distance, (hoping to detect a sli-up no doubt). She couldn't allow that to be seen. Most likely she'd have to swoop in and "check on things."

Truth was, she'd been thinking of following after them out of a mixture of concern and corporate cabin-fever during their absence. They'd been gone a few weeks now and London's West End was already dreadfully boring without that pair of delicious delinquints. She missed her wittle cubbie-wubbies awww-fully so! This "problem or whatever-it-was," gave her a pretext to get out of London and back on the continent where she belonged!

"I thought you weren't working today," said Felica, stepping up behind her.

She reached around her boss, placed a steaming hot breakfast on the table and then she spied Annette's neck and noted it was most-unguarded. She kissed her pretty short haired employer just below the ear; giving her a peck and a playful nibble as she pulled away. Annette smiled wryly at the touch of Felicia's soft lips and replied,

"I guess it wasn't in the cards dear, either that or your boss is a shameless liar."

"I think both are true mi amor," replied Felicia; commencing to rub Annette's shoulders as the lovely brunette dream boss took her first bite of the day, "but you lie very well. So am I calling for the car and the plane?"

Annette looked confused then down to her text. A look of shock and chagrin spread over her face that melted into a smile. Felicia not only kept a clean house and cooked impressively, she possessed the eyes of a falcon. She tilted her head back and turned her face upward as a hand shot up into Felicia's long luxurious head of Catalonian hair; pulling the beautiful Spaniard down for a snog. Woman's lips found woman's lips in a deep kiss that pressed and flowed back and forth like warm luxurious honey. Annette at last broke things off to gaze dreamily into the eyes of her assistant saying,

"Yes, I think that will be good. I want to leave this afternoon. Pack dear, you're coming with... "

Felicia turned happily and stepped from the breakfast nook, and rounded the corner to step into the shower; her ass swinging deliciously beneath her pale shift. Annette's eyes followed her as her maid left, noticing ever exquisite movement of the young woman's form. For Annette (a lover of all pretty things), she'd definitely chosen well; Felicia was competence, intelligence, and sophisticated pleasure (all bottled up in a hypnotically seductive container).

#

By 1:30 that afternoon, a Cessna Sovereign 300 screamed down a runway a few miles away and clawed its way into a late summer afternoon sky; headed to the continent across the channel. The Praetorian Group's corporate jet was now en-route to Amsterdam having left on time despite rather short notice. Secreted inside in plush leather accommodations were Annette and her loyal traveling companion Felicia, the aircraft's only passengers.

"Did they say what it was all about," Felicia asked.

"Nope, not a word, "Annette replied, turning her head from the window, "but my gut tells me it should prove interesting. They wouldn't tell me I was needed away from the flagpole unless it was critical and i simply don't wish them to be seen as having gotten in too far in over their heads; not on the first big project with their training wheels taken off."

She paused and looked out the window again pensively. Something troubled her. It had to have been a real cock-up for them to not provide her with details.

She was concerned. Her mind formulated the worst and most embarrassing dilemmas that her cubs could have walked into. She should have sent Roger from legal along with them, or possibly Sandra or Gisele. How could she have been so careless and... then she caught herself.

She had no facts. She needed to get there and see what on earth it was before she opted to panic. After-all; why should she doubt those two? They'd been hand-picked by her, and not simply for being attractive (gorgeously so she admitted to herself), but also because they conducted themselves and their decision-making with a level of judgement beyond their years; those two... that devilishly beautiful pair. No, there simply had to be a logical explanation.

"So this is a mystery expedition of sorts?' Felicia commented wryly with an eyebrow cocked.

"Yep they've even kept the boss in the dark," Annette nodded turning her face back to the window, "we are going in blind but I suspect this is hot or they wouldn't have called me away from London."

Felicia snatched a thin woolen blanket from an adjacent seat spread it out across both their laps. The purple woolly cover had the Praetorian Group corporate emblem shaved into its plush fuzz and was just perfect for snuggling in the lap of luxury. She took Annette's hand and replied.

"Maybe it represents an opportunity, yes?" she asked, bringing Annette's hand over under both the blanket and under her business skirt between two lanky parted belonging to a Spaniard assistant who knew how to ease the boss's concerns.

"Besides," Felicia whispered breathlessly as Annette's fingers slipped beneath the Catalonian beauty's thong; touching her bare waxed quim, "feeling your way around in dark hot places can be so... rewarding?"

"Yes," said Annette, letting her fingers stroke up and down Felicia's puss-petals down below and enjoying how it made the Iberian nymph squirm in her seat, "and for being such a good helper, I intend to bestow a little reward of my own upon you sweetie."

Felicia happily wriggled and sighed like little worm on a hook at her boss's undercover caresses as Annette motioned the stewardess with two free fingers for drinks. A moment later and the young woman stepped down the aisle; a pair of sparkling glasses of Champagne in her hands. She handed the pair their bubbly and asked if there would be anything else.

With a polite "Thank you... no," from Annette, the flight attendant turned and went back to her station; pretending not to have noticed what Annette and Felicia were up to under that lucky little blanket. She'd seen this sort of thing before when Annette and anyone in her inner circle were flying. It was nothing new, and what's more; she deliberately kept her memory foggy concerning such things.

The Jet climbed higher into the afternoon sky. The two passengers sipped Champagne, in between soft giggles and appreciative wiggles; privacy assured. Below them, the cold blue expanse of the English Channel spread from horizon to horizon and beyond them, the European continent beckoned with a sweet siren-song call of lurid mystery for those bold enough to investigate.

#

A car ride from the airport and a ring of the bell at corporate retreat lodge desk later and the two travelers found themselves checked into a room. The retreat was comfortable enough and just a short drive outside the city, but it was a little bit plain and ordinary; as if the interior decorator had been a Dutch Calvinist who took the whole "Spartan no frills" ethos to heart with every aspect of the place. The beds were comfortable enough and the room was clean; just rather antiseptic and with flat blah green and orange coloring on the drapes and carpet. Annette mused that probably it all would have been quite stylish in the 1970s or 80s but now it simply had that quiet "grandma friendly" aspect to it all that she found a bit dull and tedious. She remembered however, that for all the dour trappings and muted tones she saw before her; this was STILL the country of a people who liked their naughtiness just below the subdued surface and THAT illicit aspect could be as flashy and colorful as any tulip show and as intoxicating as the contents of any coffee shop menu.

Felicia unpacked while Annette checked messages. She'd seen not so much as a peep from the cubs since she'd taken to the air, since back at breakfast in her flat even. She tapped into her phone tersely,

"ALRIGHT... MAMA IS HERE YOU TWO... WHERE ARE YOU?"

She didn't get an answer right away; didn't expect it either. The cubs were being quiet about something... or one or both had their phones off... or. Stop it Annette, she thought to herself, stop worrying. You are here... they'll update you shortly.

A foot massage from Felicia on the bed later turned into a sleeping pill for her; as she felt the overwhelming urge to knock off and close her eyes for just a bit. When the nap ended thirty minutes later she checked the phone again; Felicia spooning up against her with a chin nuzzling into Annette's shoulder blades in oh so just the way that the pretty brunette fancied. The text was there.

"VINYL TUXEDO 10 PM" was all the message from Shelby read.

"What the fuck?" Annette said under her breath, attempting to let Felicia sleep for a few more minutes unsuccessfully.

"Did you say something Mi Amor?" the sleepy Spanish maid replied, half in and half out of consciousness.

"Get your face on Felicia and get me a car," Annette said softly with a playful smack on the rump of the Iberian beauty spooning her tightly, "we are heading to the Red Light District in town."

#

Annette loved Amsterdam. She loved the Red Light District, (and more importantly it loved her). Trouble was, like an old lover - she'd been away from it too terribly long. It hadn't changed much.

Annette and Felicia had been dropped off by a company car at an Argentinean steakhouse for dinner and then the two began a walk through the Dutch streets to meet that familiar paramour, the district. The thing was, as soon as it the ladies left the restaurant, Holland started bot become Holland. It began to rain. That old lover, the District, apparently got wet simply with Annette's very approach!

The two ladies simply decided to brave the water spilling down out of the sky and pressed on; east along Damstraat across the canal, their high heels clicking on the streets in between the spatter of the raindrops on the sidewalk. One thing was certain, the weather forced most of the young anarchist bicyclists Amsterdam was so famous for off the streets and back into the coffee houses; clearing the way ahead for the pair. The two women had the streets to themselves except for the odd Asian tourist group with umbrellas.

Two pairs of heels now click click clickety-clicked on the street as the rain abated slightly; large water drops falling from the trees as they turned north on the canal and headed up the Oudezijds Achterburgwal. Ahead gaudy neon in pinks, greens, and shocking magenta illuminated their path. Annette was back; she was home ...come out and play everyone, she giggled to herself.

"What did you...?" Felicia asked looking up from Annette's phone after checking her bosses' messages and finding nothing from the cubs.

"Oh nothing," Annette replied, "let's just go."

The two moved instep up the edge of the canal. It was the same old same old that greeted them; sex clubs, sex shops, brothels, window girls. Nothing new and yet it was different each and every time. What was it the old Greek philosopher Heraclitus had said? You cannot put your hand in the same river twice?

Up ahead in the dripping street to one side was Casa Rosso. Its infamous pink neon elephant as always appeared to waive them as they passed, as if to greet them and pull them inside. Annette had sat on many pink couch (and almost as many faces in that establishment). It was a place brimming over with fun and with hot steamy memories...

But perhaps another night darlings, yes? Annette thought to herself.

Yes, business first. You can make up for lost time in there later dear, she answered the question in the back of her perpetually naughty noggin. She knew how to suppress her desires; delaying pleasure and gratification when work dictated it to be so, but to always come back and satiate those same desires and scratch those itches later. It was a skillset that had served her well and allowed her to climb to the top of the corporate ladder, and more than a few heaps of sweaty undulating bodies.

They passed the window girls, clad in fishnet stockings who eyed them coolly until one gum popping street window strumpet leaned close to her glass, deliberately fogging the pane with flaring nostrils; drawing a little heart for the two ladies as they passed by. She pouted in a kissy pucker, then made a "V" with two fingers and ran her tongue back in forth between them. Annette flicked a "V" back at her and responded in kind while Felicia on Annette's arm pointed to her watch and shouted through the glass,

"We are late for something honey but perhaps we'll be back? We komen later terug?"

The girl in the window crossed her arms and pouted in feigned disappointment, before she then began mugging for a group of chubby Middle-Eastern businessmen heading up the sidewalk from the other direction. Annette and Felicia turned and kept walking. In fifty meters they saw their destination.

High above the sidewalk a glaring neon sign outlining a women wearing gaudy green and blue tuxedo with a gentleman's top hat cocked rakishly on her forehead beckoned them forward against a pink background. The men standing about at the door below were both clad in similar attire; all quite whimsical and over the top in their appearance. Annette and Felicia had located the Vinyl Tuxedo, now they needed to find the cubs and get to the bottom of all this.

Annette wasn't angry yet as she passed between the two tuxedoed doorman with their heavy eastern European accents. She was more like a mom, expecting to get the story first before she passed judgment or chastisement on her two darlings. They were her cubs after all, and she loved them dearly, but even a mummy has limits to her patience and the story had needed to be good.

The club was downstairs, below street level. Euro pop music streamed up from behind a door and in front of door stood another eastern European in a tuxedo.

Why did the good clubs always go down? Annette commented to Felicia. It's so hard to get up a flight of stairs if the fun was particularly FUN.

Felicia nodded and chuckled at her bosses' joke as she led her by the arm down the staircase to the door at the bottom of the stairs. A big fellow in the tux politely popped opened the door and welcomed them in Dutch laced with a heavy Russian, or Belorussian, or whatever eastern European cabbage-eating-language it was. He smiled with a mouth full of gold teeth and held the door as both ladies stepped through into a basement chamber full of darkness, black lights, and Euro-pop music.

The whole place smelled of smoke, spilled alcohol, and that usual clubby dusty "can't quite describe it but dammit please scrub it again," scent that was not at all helped by a bit of burning incense somewhere out of site. It was also quite busy; packed it seemed with a sea of latex clad women and euro males. Most of them looked typically Dutch; meaning all rather tall, slender, and elegant. A few of the clientele were of the overly horny Asian businessmen or boorish Mid-Eastern variety but they were tucked away in dingy dark corners with well-paid female company for the evening, and those fellows were generally behaving themselves.

The club itself was... well, PINK. In fact, pink and garish summed it up nicely. Kindly even.

To one far side ran a long bar with several patrons quietly nursing drinks or queuing up for 'yet another one.' The space was framed by hot pink walls adorned by full length gilded mirrors; providing an illusion of the room being far vaster. Scattered about the room were gaudy low loveseat couches of some cheap pink pleather material all facing inward to the club's center. There lay a pink padded circular stage; much like a boxing ring except it was surrounded by a shimmering silver curtain, suspended from the ceiling.

Pink shiny pleather was in fact ubiquitous; the club's designer having simply gone mad with it apparently, (in what could have been a complete breech of taste or a stroke of inspired genius). More of that same gaudy pink leather padding surrounded the bar, barstools, and fake support columns. Pink puffy pad even ran up the wall surrounding the entrance to the water closets; giving the restroom corridor the puffy anatomical look of an orifice, (wholly feminine, vulnerable, and aroused). The effect was to provide whole establishment with the resemblance to chewed bubble-gum under black lighting, everywhere that a person looked.

Felicia wrinkled her nose at the sight in contempt mixed with genuine disgust. Annette loved how fiendishly ugly it all was. Their eyes turned to the center of the room surveying the stage; appropriately padded in more of that same shiny pink whatever it was beneath the curtain of silver.

Felicia looked at her watch. She checked the phone. She shrugged to Annette.

"Well boss," she commented, "we're here and its ten. No sign of Shelby or Brad."

"Patience dearest," Annette said wrapping an arm around her assistant but still looking about the room for the cubs as well, "there is still plenty of night left for them to show. Besides, aren't you curious what will take place under that curtain?"

#

From behind them at the bar, a woman in a black latex mini-skirt and matching biker jacket observed them, dropping pretentious black designer shades that were obviously a clichéd fashion statement; all the better to ogle them with cool green eyes beneath mane of short wild black hair. She replaced the shades and ordered two champagnes from the bar. She then approached Felicia and Annette with drinks in hand.

"Right," announced, stepping into the personal space of both women and taking them by surprise, "here you are. You are on time, in the right spot, and you're on stage in ten minutes."

She handed the champagne to the two bewildered women and then made introductions of a very brief and hurried kind.

"I'm Ami," she said in American English, "I hope you didn't have trouble reaching us here on such short notice, right?"

"Well no," Annette replied, "but we were supposed meet with two of my..."

"Kirsten here will get you off to the dressing room," Ami interrupted, as if there was not another moment to be wasted, "you can change there."

A tall brunette woman with a bob haircut immediately approached Annette and Felicia from the opposite side. She wore a black tux jacket with a bowtie and white blouse up top (covering ample bosoms), and merely a thong and fishnet stockings down below above shiny black heels. She motioned politely for the two ladies to follow her.

Annette was in a state of shock and chagrin. Obviously there had to be a mistake of some sort but at the same time, her sense of adventure spurred her and Felicia on. The cubs weren't present and the night was young. She attempted to protest half-heartedly but Ami was resolute that both women were in the place they were supposed to be. Kirsten pointed the way again for them patiently.