Songs of Seduction - Silk and Skin

"You're wicked," she said softly, leaning forward.

"I know." Sebastian grinned, and she laughed with delight.

"I've missed this," she said, leaning back once again to enjoy his slow strip.

Sebastian was turning himself on, and made himself move slowly to match his arousal to hers. It wasn't necessary to do it, but he pulled the belt from his pants, snapping it tight with his hands. She flinched at the sharp noise, then gasped. He dropped the leather strap to the floor. He bent down to slip off his shoes and socks, then stood and moved another step closer to tempt her.

Francesca could have reached out for him, but she didn't. Her breath came a little faster and she touched the heat of her throat once again. Sebastian saw how the flush continued down to where it was hidden behind the bodice of the yellow dress. He saw her lick her lips. He eased his fingers into the top of his trousers and pushed the waist down a few inches, then stopped.

She gazed intently at his crotch, then looked briefly up at him before blatantly looking at his centre. "Take them off, be a darling. Don't make a lady wait."

"But Francesca," he replied, "what if I'm shy?"

"Don't be silly. You're not shy. You're turning yourself on, teasing me, making me wait."

Sebastian grinned, the cat caught with cream. In a sudden move he pushed the pants and underwear down his long legs and stood splendidly nude before her.

Francesca's eyes widened. "Good god, you're beautiful."

Sebastian looked down at himself, and his cock reached fully erect towards her. "I know."

She laughed. "So smug!" She gazed at his tightly muscled physique, taking him all in. He was slender and long limbed, narrow hipped.

"You really are beautiful," she said, and could not restrain herself. She reached for his shaft and needed two hands. "He's beautiful. Truly, truly delicious." She drew Sebastian close and held his heat against her cheek. Francesca closed her eyes and was still, his cock in the palms of her hands. She inhaled deeply. Sebastian could smell his own musk, so for her it must have been so much stronger.

"God, I've wanted this. It's been a long time." Francesca looked up to Sebastian's eyes to see how he'd react to her desire. "I see you don't mind my age. I wanted to be sure."

"Francesca, no, don't think that. God, no. Fuck. I want you. That's... just..."

He leaned down to kiss her. She held on to his cock. He took both her arms in his hands and gently lifted her to her feet. They danced together, the tall slender young man completely nude, waltzing slowly with the elegant older woman in the tight fitting yellow dress with a tear down one side. They danced a slow dance. She was ageless and full of desire; he was young, full of lust. They would change places and each court the other in their dance.

Francesca enjoyed Sebastian's tightly sculpted body against hers and his long shaft hard up against her belly. She caressed the taut globes of his cheeks and trailed a single finger down to the heat of his asshole where she pressed into him lightly, and with that small pressure felt his cock push against her. She was curious, but not in hurry, to know what his cock would feel like in her mouth and what his come would taste like on her tongue, in her throat. And on her fingers and her breasts.

She thought a fuck would be nice too; fucked hard or loved soft, either would do. They could always do it again. She had no doubt that Sebastian, being a young man, could easily come twice in a short time, and if she was clever, maybe thrice. She just had to decide what to do. He'd follow her lead, she was sure of it.

As they danced, Sebastian slid his fingers around to the zip down her back. Sliding it down, he kissed Francesca, tasting the sweetness of her red ruby lips, or it might have been the after-taste of the tea. He undid the zip all the way down her spine, then eased his hand inside the undone dress, caressing her torso and finding the thin band of a brassière strap. He eased the dress away from her body like a butterfly finding its wings.

"Stand still, Francesca."

She did, and Sebastian dropped to his knees, easing the dress away from her hips, dropping it to the floor. She stood before him in black stockings and black cami-knickers, her breasts cupped in delicate lace. Her breasts were small, she didn't need to wear the bra for support. Francesca was slender; thin even, her limbs too thin. Sebastian knew her age, or what she'd told people anyway, and her body now revealed it, declared it. Her flesh wasn't as firm as a young woman's flesh, her figure not as rounded as once it might have been, but Sebastian still thought she was beautiful.

He carefully undid the stockings from her garter belt, then slid the knickers down her legs, revealing a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair, dark honey blonde as she always had been. Sebastian kissed her belly and she took his head in her hands, pushing him down to her sex. Her belly trembled with a deep breath. "Ahh, I've wanted this for such a long time. I don't often find willing young men."

"On the couch, Francesca, where I can see you." Sebastian enjoyed his momentary command, knowing it wouldn't last much longer. He eased her back onto the pillows and spread her legs apart to reveal the deep rosy pink petals of her lips. He placed his fingers inside the scented flower, spreading her so he could see the rich red divide. She glistened already and the deeper dark red of her clitoris protruded from the folds. Sebastian leaned down close to her sex, breathing in her colours, breathing in the scent of arousal.

"Wait," he said. "Let me carry you. The bed will be far more comfortable."

He lifted her and carried her to the bed like a bride. He placed her reverently on it. She closed her eyes and let him look at her, almost naked. Sebastian leaned down and undid the bra, uncovering her small breasts, nearly all nipple as she lay on her back. He unclipped the three bangles and placed them on the table just as he'd earlier planned. She was naked, but for two pearl earrings and a thin gold chain around her neck. He knelt beside her and brazenly looked. She smiled: to be seen by a man who knew how to look!

Then, with a speculative touch as if she might disappear, Sebastian discovered Francesca's skin and spiralled his fingers on her, slowly. Her skin was indeed very soft. Her scent rose, the taste of honey and the colour of deepest red, and he touched her sex with two fingers.

Francesca sighed. "Ohh my lovely. Use me your way, I won't mind."

Sebastian momentarily wondered if she thought him fluid, more accustomed to a boy's tight ass. Then he thought she was content to be taken, this first time, however he chose. He pushed two fingers into her, slowly at first but she was very wet, so his fingers slid easily. He changed the angle of his inquisitive fuck and found her g spot. Francesca moaned and opened her legs wider. He fingered her quietly, feeling the burning heat of her centre, seeing how she trembled when he found her place inside.

"Ohhh fuuuck," she crooned, extending the word into a long sigh, almost gone. She put a hand on her belly and pressed down on the feeling inside, then dropped fingers to her clitoris.

Fascinated, Sebastian watched how she masturbated, licking her fingers for moisture and pulling up cream from her cunt. "Keep... doing that," she whispered, and he felt a tighter grip on his fingers as he moved them inside her. The scent of her sex rose thick and heady. He shifted a little on the bed so that his wrist was more comfortable as he fingered her, matching his movements back and forth to the curl of her fingers as she rubbed herself.

Her nipples were rigid, rock hard, and Sebastian took a breast into his mouth, sucking hard, taking all the flesh in. He moved his mouth away, wanting to see Francesca's face, her eyes. He didn't know what he wanted, but knew it was her. Everything about her - these moments weren't enough.

"Jesus, I..." He gripped his shaft in his left hand and slowly started to stroke, wanting the sensation in his hand and the heat on his fingers to catch up with the woman beside him on the bed. Francesca's eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her mouth slightly open. Her fingers on her clit were faster, finding the rising pace of her pleasure.

"Faster, finger me... faster," she urged him to fuck her. "That's it, that's it..." Her eyes snapped open and took his. "Don't, don't..." Sebastian saw her pupils expand and her fingers thrilled fast on her clit. "There, there, oooo..." and her whole body clenched with a rictus of pleasure until, with a shudder, Francesca came.

"Ohhhh... mmmm... wonder...ful." She cried out with a gasp as she died the littlest death, stretching out the last syllable into a sigh. Her legs twitched as the wave broke over her and she drowned before breathing, gasping, shuddering up her breath in long sighs. "Ooohhh, fuu...cckkk..." Sebastian could barely hear her voice, it was a secret whispered between them.

She reached up for him with both arms, pulling his weight down onto her slender body. She feasted on his mouth with hungry kisses, her hands all over his skin, hugging him onto her as if for salvation. Sebastian embraced her, and she seemed so fragile, so small.

"Tighter, hold me tighter." She laughed. "Smother me, lovely boy. Don't treat me like some delicate thing. I like your weight on me."

Her peak over, Francesca turned on her side, rolling Sebastian with her. She took his cock, hot and hard, and nudged him into her opening, heavy and dark now with blood. She eased down on him, sliding easily. "Don't come, not yet, don't..."

But she was too much, Sebastian couldn't hold himself back. Her swift heat engulfed him and his pent up arousal was too much, the sensation too intense, the waiting done. He couldn't stop. With a loud cry he came, shooting thick seed inside her, shuddering his swift release into her hot tight place. She opened her eyes wide with the suddenness of it, then looked at Sebastian with the gentlest of smiles. "Ohh, my perfect boy, you couldn't wait."

"Now who's smug," he whispered.

"I know!" She kissed him, not minding at all that he'd spilled himself into her, driven uncontrollably by his excitement. Next time would be longer, but Francesca smiled for her eager boy, remembering this first time like a virgin.

She snuggled herself down onto Sebastian to keep his lovely cock inside her, wanting his embrace all around her. The smell of their sex filled the air. "I can smell us," she said. "It's delicious. Better than my yellow dress, don't you think? Better than flowers."

Later, Sebastian loved her again, for a much longer time.

* * * *

"God, Sebastian. So you did fuck her! Sort of." Jude turned towards him with huge wide eyes, her own arousal thick and heavy. She'd undone the zip of her skirt and slipped fingers inside her panties, playing with herself as he described his love making, pulling on her own arousal.

She'd not come: she never did with Sebastian because she was his sister. She saved herself for her own bed. Her bed was next to Sebastian's wall, and she often heard him too. He never cried out, but she wondered if he held his hand to the wall like she did.

"This, is this what she held?" She palmed her hand over his thickness, hard from the telling, feeling his heat through his jeans. "You wicked man, taking advantage of the nice lady."

"I think it was the other way around. Francesca set out to seduce me in her yellow dress, and I was besotted." He stroked Jude's hair. "She's beautiful, Jude. You must meet her."

Jude heard the awe in his voice and knew that part of it was meeting Francesca Ward, after knowing her only through photographs and magazine articles, all those months of his long research. But the other part... that was for the woman he'd undressed.

"I couldn't. It would mean..."

"You could, Jude. Just the three of us. She'd want to, I'm sure. She'll understand. You're my sister." Sebastian held her tightly, and she seemed so fragile, so small. He kissed her hair, just as their mother always had when she tucked them into bed when they were young.

Jude was quiet for a very long while. "Seb," she eventually ventured, "do you think some of those clothes would fit me? I'm not very tall. Could I wear them, do you think? Would she understand and let me wear them?"

She studied her brother for a long moment, then reached for him, taking his hand.

"Could I wear Francesca's colours?"

* * * *

Green

"Your sister, has she always struggled with people, meeting people?"

Francesca was curious, wanting to understand the young woman's desire to wear her clothes. Sebastian had raised the topic one morning as he and Francesca enjoyed a coffee in the gallery's small café. Sunlight streamed over the lawn, and Francesca stretched her bare legs out in the warm spring air.

"As a kid she was fine and we'd rough and tumble, falling off bikes, that sort of thing, but she'd often draw back into herself. Then our teens hit, puberty, and Jude didn't know who she was for a long time."

Sebastian looked up at Francesca watching him. "I left her behind, I'm afraid. We sort of... became different. I didn't understand what was going on, not for a long time. There was a part of herself she just couldn't share. In hindsight, she was lost for several years. I wasn't much help."

"You're close now, though?" Francesca sensed Sebastian was uneasy about something, so didn't press him. "You mention her a lot, I can see you love her dearly. You soften, when you talk about Jude."

"Do I? I didn't know that. Soften?"

"Yes. You talk about her so gently. You're protective, I can see that, but it's something more. Maybe it's because you're twins. That must be special." She paused, momentarily looking away to some far distance. "I don't have any siblings, so can't remotely imagine what it must be like, to be a twin." She turned her slow eyes back to him. "I'd love to meet her."

"Well, she wants to meet you too, so..." Sebastian wasn't quite sure how it could happen, knowing Jude's agoraphobia.

"We must arrange it then. Perhaps you could both come to my house? I can send Jeremy, if you prefer."

"Yes, that might work. Let me talk to her. Can I call you, if she says yes? It might be a couple of days."

"Of course you can. One evening, then." She paused. "But wait. How tall is Jude?" Francesca looked across at Sebastian, wondering if his slim build was a family trait.

"Jude? She's perhaps an inch or so taller than you. Maybe just an inch. Not much difference between you, really." Sebastian pictured Francesca standing, noting where the top of her head came up to, then imagined Jude, the way she tucked her head into his shoulder. "The only real difference is heels. You always wear high heels. Jude nearly always wears flats."

"Ah, that's good, then, isn't it? The same height. The green dress, I think. It should fit her. If she's slender like you. Or too thin, like me."

Francesca's touch on Sebastian's arm was gentle, as a mother's might be with a beloved son. There was a brief look of longing, but he missed it.

"Sebastian," she asked a moment later, as if something had just occurred to her. "Your sister. Is she a Judith?"

"No. She's always been Jude. That's the name our parents gave her."

* * * *

"Did she picture you with arrows, and me with my head on a plate?" Jude asked, when Sebastian mentioned Francesca's question. "Why did she ask, do you know?"

"No clue, Sis, none at all. I said it was your name, and that was that."

"Oh, that's okay then." Jude curled up on the couch next to her brother. "Did she think me odd, wanting to wear her dresses?"

"No, I don't think so. I think she was flattered. More for Bonnard's sake though, I reckon. She's explained to me, how he always said the point of beautiful clothes was for them to be worn."

Jude sat silently for a long while, nervously playing with her hair. She finally spoke. "Am I pretty enough, graceful enough, to do the clothes justice? I mean..."

"Don't be silly, kitten. Of course you are."

"I'm not Francesca though, am I? It all came naturally for her, being young and elegant at the same time."

"You're forgetting one thing, Jude."

"What's that?"

"She's agreed to be your dresser." Sebastian remembered the way the yellow dress slid from Francesca's hips. "She knows how the cloth falls, how the dresses fit. How bodies work."

Jude lay her head on Sebastian's shoulder for a long time. "I want to, Seb. But I'm scared. It's..."

"... fine, Jude. You'll be fine. Anyway, I'll be there."

"In another room, Seb. I wouldn't want you watching. Not when I'm dressing. I'd want to show you, though. When it's done. When I'm dressed."

Sebastian heard an insistence in Jude's voice, a certainty he'd not heard before. "This idea, Jude. It's a big one, isn't it?"

"I think it is, yes." Jude touched his cheek. "To wear a beautiful dress, and to be seen in it. I've not really had that, have I?"

She curled up beside Sebastian, touching her fingers to his throat, finding his pulse with her fingertips. She felt the beloved heartbeat she'd known all her life, echoing hers.

"The green dress, Seb. Describe it for me again."

* * * *

The dress was displayed in the centre of a large room, draped on a headless mannequin, its train stretching a foot along the floor. Francesca stood beside it, elegantly dressed in grey and white. The green of the dress was satin dark, almost black in the shadows. The surface of the cloth shimmered.

Seeing Sebastian enter the room, hand in hand with Jude, Francesca stepped forward to greet them. She gave Sebastian a warm smile and held out her hands to his sister.

"Jude, you lovely girl, it's so good to finally meet you." Francesca covered the girl's hands with her own, looking to Sebastian for quick guidance. He nodded, meaning, 'she's okay.' "Please, call me Francesca."

"Francesca, yes, hello. I feel I know you, Seb talks about you a lot. And of course, the exhibition." Jude greeted the older woman, turning towards her brother for reassurance.

"It's okay, Jude. Francesca doesn't bite." He watched the two women together. Francesca saw him watching, then gave full attention to his sister.

"Come, Jude, let me show you the dress. Sebastian's told me of your interest in these clothes - the green will suit you, I think. And the cut. You've got the height to carry it." She placed the girl's hands on the garment and leaned in close to whisper, "Shall I shoo your brother away? Just us women?"

Jude laughed, a little nervously. "What will he do? He won't leave, will he?"

"Of course he won't." Francesca turned to the young man. "Sebastian, darling, why don't you go to the other studio and find Bonnard's drawings. There's a collection there, some of his first studies. He couldn't always pay me in cash those early days, I often took payment in kind. You'll enjoy them. When Jude's ready we'll come find you."

Francesca stayed her hand lightly on the young woman's waist, almost as if she were leading Jude to a dance.

"It's all right, Seb," Jude said. "I feel safe with Francesca. She'll look after me, I'm sure." She took the older woman's hand in hers, to affirm it.

"I'm sure too, Sis. Find me when you're done here. I'll be looking at those drawings." He glanced at Francesca. "Did Bonnard ever draw you, or was it just the clothes?"

"He did. You'll find them, the drawings. My clothes, they kept falling off. I'm sure I don't know why!" She laughed. "He drew some delicious nudes."

"I can imagine," Sebastian replied, her naked form turning in his mind.

Francesca gazed at him for a long while, their mutual desire charging the atmosphere in the room. Jude felt it, in the uncanny way twins have, and it left her with a strange feeling, this woman wanting her brother. 'It's my turn, Seb,' she whispered to herself, her lips moving but the words silent and unheard, except in her head.