Songs of Seduction - Silk and Skin

Sebastian sensed the shift in Jude's mood. "You two. You don't need me, do you? I'll go find Francesca's naughty drawings. I'm sure they'll be almost as good." He winked at Francesca and blew her a kiss. "You'll know where I'll be."

Francesca watched Sebastian leave the room, admiring his elegant grace. She turned to his sister. Jude was slighter in build, slim rather than thin, with small high breasts under a loose top. She wore a short skirt clinging to the curves of her bottom, which was pert and tight. Francesca in her heels was an inch or two taller, not much.

Jude reminded Francesca vaguely of her younger self - but far more skittish and nervous, afraid and a little bit brave at the same time.

Jude stood by the mannequin, running a hand down the side of the dress. Two fingers ran down the edge of the cloth, the other two fingers tracing a line on the smooth surface of the statue, which if it were flesh would be warm. But the mannequin was cool to her touch. She ran her fingers down the flesh of her own bare arm, and the contrast of her warmth pleased her.

Remembering Seb telling her what Bonnard had said, that his clothes clung best to naked skin, she asked Francesca, "Were you always nude under his clothes, when Bonnard cut the dresses to fit?"

"I was," Francesca replied. "It got to the point where I'd only wear a dress, or a skirt and top, with no underwear, whenever I went to his studio to model. I soon got used to being naked around Bonnard. Did Sebastian say that he never once touched my skin, in all the time we worked together? He'd look at me though, with the strangest desire in his eyes."

Francesca remembered. "Once, to taunt him, I lay back on the couch, began to play with myself..."

Jude gasped, a quick intake of breath.

"Can you guess what he did?" Francesca continued. "He drew me!" She laughed. "He drew me, can you picture it? 'Make yourself come, Francesca,' he said. 'I shall be Gustav Klimt!' The wicked, wonderful, man."

"Did you? Come, I mean." Jude was curious, and knew the thrill of masturbating as if she might be found. She'd never been caught, although once or twice she pretended to be asleep on her side with her legs curled up, when Seb came to tell her something after she'd gone to bed.

"I did... The drawing, Sebastian might find it. It's rather... lovely. Very naughty." Francesca smiled at the memory: the hot summer day, her drowsy fingers and the soft scratching sound of Bonnard's charcoal on paper.

She'd never seen herself from that angle before, and liked the way he'd captured the pout of her sex and her small, firm breasts. They were softer now, she'd lost the firmness that only young women have.

Jude was silent for a very long while. "Seb. He told me. What you and he..."

Francesca took the girl's waist in her hands. "Your brother is a beautiful man, Jude. He's gracious, kind, taking a much older woman to his bed. Well, my bed." She laughed. "My bed."

"What did you do first?" asked Jude, who knew, because Sebastian had told her. She wanted to hear it from Francesca, to see it again in her mind.

"We danced. He was naked. I was fully clothed, and we danced. A slow waltz." Francesca's hands were still on Jude's waist, and her voice grew softer as she remembered. "He held me very close."

Jude was silent for an even longer time before she decided. Her voice was a whisper, barely a breath. "Would you dance with me, Francesca? Would I be naked?" Her second question presumed Francesca would say yes to the first. Jude, usually so very tentative, seemed certain of the answer. "I'm a little bit shy, but I..."

Francesca turned the young woman so Jude's back was against her front. She placed her hands on Jude's belly in a gentle caress. She whispered into her ear, "Would you like me to undress you?" She knew the answer already, this waif who craved to be held.

Jude took a long, ragged inhalation of breath but didn't say anything. She wasn't afraid, not in this place. Francesca would know what to do.

Jude shivered and her arms prickled as she gave herself up to the other woman's caress. Her nipples tightened with a hard thrill and she felt herself stir with arousal. She felt warm lips on her throat and hot breath by her ear, and Francesca's warm hand found its way up inside her top to caress her breasts.

Francesca eased a hand inside the cup of Jude's bra to cover the peak of a nipple, palm against flesh. The girl's heart thudded, surely Francesca must feel it?

"Let me," Francesca whispered, lifting Jude's top up over her head to reveal the younger woman's breasts barely covered in a plain cotton bra. She dropped the top to the floor. Francesca turned Jude around to unclip the bra strap at her back. The little triangles of cloth fell too, fluttering down.

"They're beautiful," whispered Francesca. "Lucky girl, such lovely breasts. May I?" She took Jude's hand and led her to a couch that sat within the curve of a wide bay window.

"We're not dancing," said Jude in reply, lying back and making herself comfortable, her heart still thudding fast, her arousal firm and full against her plain black tights.

"Oh, we are, darling, yes we are."

Francesca knelt before the young woman, looking at her face, her sightless eyes. She held Jude's cheeks in her hands, then leaned forward and kissed the girl gently. She smiled as she felt a tentative tongue.

"You're smiling." Jude broke away from the kiss to touch Francesca's lips with her fingers. She didn't stay away long, returning to Francesca's mouth with a little more force, more certainty this time, her tongue pushing between Francesca's lips. "I can taste your lipstick. Is it red? I think it's red, it's...."

Francesca silenced the girl with her mouth, then climbed onto the couch and crouched over her. She pulled her skirt up her thighs to straddle Jude's hips. "Ah, my skirt, it's too tight. Wait...." She unzipped it and wriggled it down her legs, throwing it onto the small pile of clothes building up on the floor.

Jude found the smooth skin at the top of Francesca's stockings, her fingers marking the divide between the smooth silk and the flesh of those slender thighs. She stroked the soft skin, her fingers slow, finding their way in under Francesca's underwear, finding the curve of her bottom.

The two women lay quietly together on the couch, each exploring the other, their half nakedness the yin and the yang of the other. Francesca shifted her legs and felt Jude's hard arousal against her thigh. She pressed up against it and felt the girl quiver.

"I'm not like other girls," Jude whispered.

Francesca smiled. "I guessed that, sweetheart."

She eased herself up so that her mouth was by Jude's ear, and repeated the words she'd spoken earlier. "Would you like me to undress you completely?" Would I be naked? She heard Jude's question in her head.

"Yes. And please, take me in your mouth. I'd like that. If you would." Jude prompted Francesca. "I've never been undressed by a woman before, not since my mother looked after me. When I was younger."

"Oh, my darling. To undress you? To see you naked? Hmmm, let's see."

Francesca slid her hands down Jude's torso, her gentle touch followed by her lips, nuzzling each of the younger woman's breasts into her mouth. She nipped the tight, dark nipples with her teeth, sucking the flesh and flicking her tongue over the firm nubs.

Jude sighed and shifted her body, allowing Francesca's hands to slide under her bottom then up to the waist of her skirt. Undoing the zip at the side, Francesca tapped her hip, "Bum up," and slid the skirt down Jude's slender legs.

Lying on the couch in only her tights - she'd not worn underwear - Jude's arousal showed hard, ridging the black cloth. Francesca slowly eased the leggings down, tugging them down from the waist and over the hard arousal, rolling them down Jude's legs. All of the girl's clothes were in a pile on the floor, like a tiny soft cairn, a meeting point for pleasure on a wandering path. Jude lay on the couch completely nude, her hands cupping herself, hiding herself, but feeling her hard arousal.

Francesca's eyes were soft as she gazed at Jude's fine slender beauty, her shoulders a little too wide for the curves of her delicate frame, those high firm breasts topped with small, tight nipples. She took in the plump little swell of Jude's belly, a blonde fuzz of hair, and her sex, which was firm and surprisingly long, cradled in the soft fur. The tight sacs nestled high in Jude's crotch, a fine seam dividing the two parts with a faint line of darkness.

"Your knickers too," said Jude, breaking Francesca's wonder. "I want to feel you, imagine my sex is like yours. Can I stroke you?" Jude asked shyly, and Francesca knew she was being given permission to stroke Jude.

"Wait, darling, let me get these off." Francesca stood by the side of the couch and pulled her panties down, undid her blouse and dropped her own bra to the floor. She lay down beside Jude, facing towards her feet. She gently moved Jude's hands away, covered the shaft in her hands, then cupped a curl of her fingers around the tight sacs. "Ohh, darling, it's so soft, your skin. I want you in my mouth, are you sure?"

"Mmmm," Jude replied, taking herself in her own hands, offering herself to Francesca.

The older woman crouched beside Jude, leaned forward and opened her mouth to Jude's sex. The hot flesh filled her mouth, and, like Jude herself, the shaft of it was slender and easy to take. Francesca sucked it deep, and settled herself down beside Jude to enjoy.

Jude prompted Francesca with a tap on her thigh and a whisper. "Will you crouch over me so I can touch your lips, your clit? To pretend it's mine? To kiss your bottom? I've only ever played with mine." Jude was swamping herself with images, tastes, and the promise of so many pleasures. She took a big shuddering breath to slow down.

Without a word, Francesca rearranged herself into a sixty-nine with Jude's sex still in her mouth, her own sex accessible to Jude's fingers and lips. And all the time, Francesca gently sucked on the other woman's delicate head, playing with Jude slowly, adding pleasure to the whorl of her anus with the tip of a finger. She would be more insistent later, if Jude prompted her, but for now she tasted a sweet flow of pre-come in her mouth.

Francesca slowed down the strength of her suck, and gave herself up to the girl's inquisitive exploration. Jude was gentle at first, tentative; slowly running her fingers along Francesca's labia, then inside, into the wetness. She pushed in again when she felt Francesca twitch, a little deeper, but still tentative, finding her way. Francesca quivered and Jude did it again. She found a call and response, and soon she began to stroke the older woman with two fingers, then three.

"Fuucc...kk," Francesca managed to say; and to slow herself, she concentrated on Jude's sex for a moment.

But Jude was insistent. "No, you first. Let me." She found Francesca's clitoris, easing back the flesh to expose the little nub, and it was so much smaller than her own. Jude carefully opened wide the sweet tasting lips, kissing the other woman, thrusting her tongue up into that hot, perfect place.

Francesca felt Jude twitch in her mouth, the heat bumping up. The girl began to moan, and her sex beat again. Francesca felt a shift in the passion of Jude's suck and thought the girl was getting closer to her peak. Francesca began to swallow, the motion drawing Jude's length deeper into her mouth. She felt Jude twitch, and instinctively Francesca knew the girl was close, getting closer....

Three more swallows and Jude couldn't stop herself and didn't want to. "I'm..." she started to say, but couldn't speak any more. Her sex bounced, Francesca pulled her head back... and with a long sigh Jude spilled seed deep into Francesca's mouth. The spurts were gentle, the semen spilling from her sex, rather than bursting forth.

Francesca cupped the high, tight balls, pressing up on Jude's perineum to sustain her pleasure. She swallowed the fluid, savouring the slightly sweet taste.

"Come up to me, let me kiss you. I want to taste me on your lips." Jude knew what she wanted, and loved the way Francesca had immediately read her and still wanted her. There'd been no fuss, no surprise, and Jude wondered if Seb had told Francesca about her. Sebastian regarded Jude as his sister now, had know her as Sis for a such a long time, so maybe he had, maybe he hadn't. Jude didn't know.

It didn't matter. Francesca had loved her, brought her pleasure; just as she'd pleasured Sebastian. Jude smiled. She'd tell Seb later, they'd both had the same woman. Even though, strictly speaking, Francesca had taken her, not the other way around. Jude had come in Francesca's mouth, after all.

She lay in a sweet swoon of bliss, and after a moment she wondered: could she come inside Francesca, their sexes joined together in a hot sticky wet mess? Her sex started to stir at the thought of it - the wonderful idea of their breasts pressed together, their lips kissing, her tongue finding Francesca's, her sex finding a sweet place to lie within another woman's body, wet and warm.

"God," Jude realised, enjoying her quick recovery. "I was greedy. You've not come."

"Oh, darling, that doesn't matter. I've lived much longer than you. I've had plenty of pleasure. I'm happy seeing a lovely girl come. I can wait."

Francesca lay alongside Jude and took the young woman in her arms. But Jude, fiercely turned on, had other ideas. When she was hard again she whispered, "I want to come again, inside you. Can I do that?"

In reply, Francesca eased her legs open and guided the girl inside her silky wetness. Jude lay quietly in a first time of wonder, astonished at the complexity of her feelings. She'd never dreamed it would be like this, kissing Francesca's lips, her throat, her beautiful breasts. Being inside someone. She'd sometimes imagined it, but never believed it would happen. Not with such a caring woman.

Jude couldn't get enough, her hands were everywhere, everywhere, until Francesca said in her, low sexy voice, "I think it's time that you fucked me, naughty girl, fucked me a little bit harder."

And she grabbed Jude's tight ass cheeks and pulled the girl into her, saying, "Fuck me harder. I want it."

Jude did. She found a natural rhythm, urged on by Francesca's low moans and insistent hands. "That's it, that's it, oh my beautiful girl, mmmm, fuu...ck, fuuu...ck... oh sweetheart, make... me..."

Come.

Francesca, who knew her body so very, very well, taught Jude the power of hers. But beyond all that, Jude heard Francesca's endearment, "...oh, sweetheart..." and that was enough for Jude.

Jude shuddered, and spilled herself into Francesca a second time, throbbing with pleasure. She collapsed onto Franceca's chest and felt the other woman's arms clasp around her.

Later, Sebastian came back into the room and found them both asleep. The room smelt of sex. He gazed down at them, their limbs entangled, Jude's head on Francesca's breast. He smiled. Good for you, Sis, he thought. You've waited a long time for that. He looked around and found a quilt. He covered them with it, tucking it around them.

"Is that you, Seb?" He heard a sleepy voice.

"It's me, Sis. Hush now, you're safe." Sebastian kept his voice low.

"I'm more than safe, Seb. I've been loved, here tonight."

"You're loved every night, Sis. You know that. Ssshh now, don't wake Francesca."

"Seb?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"I didn't wear Francesca's green dress."

"Another time, then."

"Another time like this?"

Sebastian gazed at the two women entangled in each other's arms.

"I think so."

* * * *

Blue

Another day, several weeks later, Jude was standing in the centre of the studio, her face uplifted to feel the warmth of the sun streaming in through the floor-length windows.

"Francesca, what do you see?" Jude was insistent. "Describe me."

"Describe you, my darling?"

"Yes, every detail, every little bit, so I can hear your words in my head, imagine myself through your eyes."

She stood waiting; and Sebastian, who was watching, was reminded of Francesca standing before the display cabinets in the dress exhibition. He was intrigued by this new side to his sister, more assertive, more confident. The older woman seemed to be good for Jude, providing something for her that he could not.

Jude clenched her fingers into a fist, then relaxed. She turned to face Francesca, towards her voice. "Please," she said, "tell me who you see."

"Who I see?" Francisco's spoke softly, as if to slow the younger woman's thoughts down, to calm her. "A lovely young woman, standing tall, wearing a beautiful blue dress. It's got a collar, short sleeves and a tight waist, with a wide swirling skirt. You've got white lace stockings on -"

"Is it tight on my boobs? Is it curvey, tight at the top?"

Francesca laughed gently, indulging Jude. "Your boobs look wonderful, darling; a nice hint of cleavage and if the looker's lucky, the top of your lacy bra. You can have good girl buttons all done up, or be a naughty girl, undo one or two. Three or four."

"Am I pretty, or is it just the dress?"

Francesca looked at the young woman, seeing the way her fingers pulled at the cloth of the skirt, bunching it up on her thigh.

"It's never the dress, Jude, makes a woman beautiful. It's always the person inside." Francesca stood up and moved towards the young woman.

Sebastian sat down where Francesca had been sitting, feeling what was left of her warmth. He looked at the two women and marvelled how similar they were. From behind, they could have been sisters, twinned from the same mother, their narrow hips with just the hint of a curve. In Francesca's case, it was her age catching up and her body becoming what it was; with Jude it was her body catching up and becoming who she wanted to be.

Francesca stood beside Jude and they both turned to face Sebastian, young and old together; want and wisdom, dreams and desire. He gazed at them and shivered, a sudden something thumping through his body. Francesca he knew, her lust for him, his for her. But Jude: he'd curled around her in the womb, he'd curled around her in a bed, he'd felt her hand cup his cock in a gentle, familiar hold, but he'd never slept with his sister as a lover.

Seeing her there, seeing the beautiful woman she was, he suddenly wondered, why not? He loved -

"Sebastian?" Francesca had seen the something flicker, read the sudden shift in his mood.

"Seb?" Jude repeated, their telepathy running fast between them.

"Only a ghost, walked over my grave. I'm okay, don't worry about me." He steered the conversation away. "Sis, you look wonderful. Like Alice, all grown up. Doesn't she, Francesca?"

Before Francesca could reply, Jude touched her cheek.

"I want to know for myself. I want to undress Francesa and I want you, Seb, to describe what you see. Then I'll know what a butterfly feels like, coming out of its chrysalis.

"It's warm in the sun, I can feel it on my skin. It'll be just like you were with Bonnard, Francesca. Only with me feeling and Sebastian watching." She deliberately touched Francesca's lips with her fingers. "Please let me do it. Be my dress mannequin." She deliberately invoked Bonnard, with a cheeky little smile on her lips.

Francesca was astonished, to be commanded this way. It was completely unexpected, but beguiling. She glanced across at Sebastian and could see that he too was intrigued. She'd followed her intuition before, her sixth sense the taint of a witch, and here it was, roused by this androgynous, ambiguous, ever changing young woman who was quickly growing in confidence.

"Only if I can have you later, Jude, my way." Her voice lowered to a seductive whisper, for Jude's ear only. "And Sebastian too, to have me. My way."