Petite T?te

Spray from the bow hit Ryan's face as he drove his new Chris Craft motor yacht through a wave. He tilted his head back and yelled feeling in tune with the power of the speedboat. He ran an import-export business, "Petite Tête Imports" trinkets from Algiers, oddities from the Congo and the average European goods. Until recently it was hanging on the brink of bankruptcy. Then Prohibition changed everything. He was able to use his contacts importing goods from abroad and distributing them in the States to import goods that were in greater demand – goods containing alcohol. He knew his wife would disapprove; call it 'Smuggling'. Perhaps it was, but is very lucrative and he enjoyed his new toys.

Its success had put some distance in their relationship because of the increasing time it demanded and the secrecy it entailed. This weekend she had gone upstate to an Opera festival. An invitation in calligraphy had arrived only the previous Saturday. Normally he would have gone too, but tonight he was going to talk to a new client.

Turning the boat back to the dock on his estate the afternoon sun flashed across the polished mahogany deck, momentarily blinding him. After the flash, as if by magic, his dock came into view and perched on its end was large cherry red parasol. This parasol hid from view what was behind it and Ryan's curiosity grew as the Chris Craft rapidly closed the distance. He could see a pair of long graceful legs stretching down to the water, their blue silk clad toes nearly touching as if trying to quench an insatiable thirst. When only a few boat lengths from the dock Ryan throated done the boat and the motor rumbled even closer. The red parasol spun as if a great wheel of fortune and moved in an arc revealing its holder like a curtain rising up on a stage.

The first thing Ryan noticed was Samantha's radiant smile; her brunet hair cut in a bob framed her face. She stood, tall and slim; the low sun gave her skin an extra rosy glow and made her blue silk dress appear purple. The dress hung straight down from her shoulders cut in the shape of a tube, but with her every move the blue silk fabric hugged her form revealing her trim, athletic body. She loved the feeling of the sun-warmed silk brushing her skin anticipating the caresses of her husband that night. Ryan cut the engine and the boat glided into the white boathouse. Quickly and efficiently he secured the boat and opened the door of the house. He was extremely excited by this unexpected appearance of his wife, but he was also a little apprehensive. He still had that meeting tonight and Samantha's attire suggested she had plans for them.

"Bon soir mon ami" Samantha almost purred.

"Hi honey, I thought …" was all Ryan got out before Samantha's finger pressed to his lips stopped him. Its warmth was welcome on his chilled lips.

"You know I love Mozart, but how could I see the 'The Magic Flute' without you? Let's go into town. Maybe we could have some ice cream."

She seemed a little over dress, for ice cream, but he gladly agreed. He went up to his dressing room and changed out of his boating cloths and into a tuxedo that would more closely match his spouse's outfit. When he descended the stairs downstairs, she was already in their green Morgan roadster, looking rather comical wearing the green scarf she had knit to match to car.

She smiled radiantly at him, batted her eyes and said, "Well, darling, what are you waiting for? Let's drive."

Ryan stepped down into the low car and drove off to town. They stopped at 'Murray's Ice Cream Parlor'. There were a few places to get ice cream, but Murray's was next door to the club that he had an appointment with in less that half an hour. They both ordered ice cream Sundays and Samantha chose a table in the front, surrounded on two sides by glass. It was odd, but Ryan felt a little exposed. What could be out of the ordinary, a husband having ice cream with is wife on a Saturday evening? When they were almost finished with their ice cream, Ryan excused himself to go and visit the lavatory. He made his way to the back of the ice cream parlor and instead of entering the restroom, he exited out the back and into the alley behind. Three doors down the alley was another none descript door that Ryan entered and descended a short flight of stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was another door that had a slot in it at about eye level. Ryan knocked on this door and the panel in the slot opened briefly and then closed. The door opened and Ryan was greeted by the sound of a Jazz band playing 'Oh Lady Be Good' mixed with the small talk of a hundred people.

"Come on in Ryan. Jack is at the table over in the corner. He is expecting you," George, the bouncer told him.

Making his way through the crowd he came to owner's table and sat down. Ryan and Jack exchanged pleasantries and the talked for a few minutes. Ryan was feeling pressed for time and it appeared that something had changed in Jack's attitude since they had last spoken. It wasn't that he sensed Jack was unwilling to finalize the deal it just seemed he was stalling.

"Listen, Jack all this it just great, but I am in sort of a hurry. I need to go meet my wife actually," Ryan said.

"It looks like you won't need to go far," replied Jack just as Ryan smelled his wife's perfume and a shadow cast across the table.

Ryan looked up to see Samantha. She didn't seem as mad as he feared, but her lower lip was pushed out.

"You can't leave a girl all alone like that honey," Samantha pouted.

"Is there someplace I can talk to my wife in private?" Ryan asked Jack, his eye never leaving Samantha's face.

"Yeah, yeah. You can use my office. Its right through here," Jack said as he stood waving his hand to a door just behind him.

The office obviously served also as a storage area. There were boxes of supplies and even a sewing machine with a green knit scarf on it in the corner.

"Honey, dear. I can …" this time it was an ice cream chilled finger that cut him off.

"I think you owe me more than an explanation for leaving me alone tonight," she said and smiled with warmth equal to that of her finger. "Now you sit down right here," she indicated a simple wooden chair, its back to the desk, as she closed the door behind her.

Ryan obediently sank into the chair, his spirits with it. The afternoon, the evening and for that matter his business had held such promise and now it was ruined because he had spent too much time with Jack. He watched as Samantha casually tossed her beaded purse on the desk and snatched the green scarf from the sewing machine. He sat motionless as she loosely lashed it around his wrists behind the chair.

"Now, you were going to tell me something," Samantha said leaning forward running her hand through Ryan's thick Salt and Pepper hair. She smiled inwardly as she felt gravity pulling the silk of her dress away from her breasts, knowing the view her husband was getting. It excited her to see his cheeks flush.

Ryan was equally excited and surprised by the fact that his wife did not seem upset by his meeting in the speak-easy and by the sight of her naked breasts. "I owe you an apology Samantha," he stammered. Samantha unbuttoned the studs of his tuxedo shirt. "My business has expanded recently," Ryan explained as flatly as he could, his heart raced.

"Is that all that expanded?" she whispered in his ear as her left hand slid under the top of his pants. "You should have told your wife," she mock scolded him.

"Yes, I mean No. I was going to tell you. Aren't you up set? I love you," he blurted out all at ounce without thinking.

"I love you too my darling, but shouldn't keep these things from me." She emphasized this with a slight squeeze to the swelling member. She pulled her hand up pleased with the influence and she felt a warm excitement building between her thighs and in the pit of her stomach. "Hmmm, what should I do with you?" Standing up, she placed her foot on the desk and inched the hem of the dress above her knee.

Now Ryan's view became that of Samantha's silk stocking clad leg. He saw the lace edge, her milky skin and could almost see where in the shadows it met her silk panties. Overcome with desire he arched his neck forward. His manhood ached as it strained against the fabric of his pants.

"You see how easily distracted you are?" teased Samantha. Moving her hips closer to his lips she felt his hot breath on her inner thigh. The warmth sent tingles down her legs and up her spine.

She put her foot down and straddled the chair. "You know you shouldn't hide these things from me," she said as she unzipped his pants freeing his engorged cock. She stood over him, stared down into his hazed eyes and asked, "Do you think you can cooperate and work with me?"

Ryan nodded his head in agreement as she leaned down, letting her saliva drip onto his erect member. In the dim light she could see it mingle with a drop of his pre-cum. Samantha smiled and delicately licked the tip of his cock, ringing its tip with small circles of pleasure that sent wave of pleasure through Ryan's body. The circles became bigger and Samantha treated the whole head of his manhood to her talented tongue. Ryan's low moans filled the room. Then Samantha stood up and put her foot back on the desk.

"You can't get too far ahead of me again. You were a bad boy," she said demurely. "You need to keep in better touch with me. You have a mouth, use it."

With this statement, on of Samantha's hands pulled aside her blue silk panties to reveal her beautifully shaved pussy while her other hand pulled Ryan's willing head closer. Gently his tongue parted her flush lips and darted toward its goal. Her precious clitoris waited, begging for attention. A sigh escaped Samantha's lips; his thick hair in the fingers of her right hand pressed him closer. Ryan's tongue extended, with its tip probed her lips and edge of her love canal while keeping her clit cupped in its base. While he never relinquished pressure to her love button.

"Hmmm, Ryan, you are an artist," Samantha moaned. She pulled Ryan's head back from her dripping pussy and stared into his eyes. "Now we are ready to come together on this issue?"

"Yessss," escaped Ryan's mouth as Samantha pressed her slick mound against his bare chest, leaving a trail of her essence as she lowered her self slowly down onto his thick pole. In one smooth motion their mouths met and the length of my manhood slid home. Her warmth enveloped him, wrapping him in her private world. Their eyes met and they watched each other's souls' burn with pleasure and desire. She gripped his cock with her womanhood and he moved his hips as much as his position would allow. Their hot bodies ground together, their motions, their energies increased. Samantha opened her mouth and let out a low growl as their mutual ecstasy came to a climax. Shuttering together, they released themselves to one another.

Rocking gently, they held one another for a long time. Then Samantha raised her self up and untied the scarf from Ryan's wrists.

As they left the office they passed Jack's table. Ryan felt at a loss for words, and then Samantha said, "We worked everything out. I left the shrunken head in the purse on your desk." Ryan was surprised, how had Samantha discovered the symbol of his liquor distribution? However, inwardly he smiled, knowing his renewed partnership would prove to be very fruitful.