The Cottage Ch. 04

Part 4: The Renaissance Room

Note to reader: This is the 4th part of an on going saga. Please enjoy and take the time to vote. TRCIII was a tremendous help in helping me edit.

Awaking Wednesday morning, we found it still was raining outside. We decided to get a head start on our shopping plans. There were five different shops within ten miles of here that specialized in Renaissance clothing. I did some internet searching yesterday on that time period and authentic clothing, not twenty-first century gothic clothing. There is a difference between the two other than color.

The first shop,Renaissance Clothier: what a straightforward name, I thought. As we were scanning the racks, a nice young woman asked if she could help us. I explained that we were looking for authentic period clothing, but with an erotic twist. I didn't tell her were we going, but she asked if it was for the Café, and we both said 'yes'. She directed us to six different racks, especially for Café Aphrodite. There were all sorts of corsets, skirts, trousers and shoes, but nothing really like I had in mind, for myself. However, we did find a shirt for Chris, which was white, with long sleeves that gathered at the shoulder. The cuffs were tied with a thin rawhide string. The collar was very broad and stiff, with shallow v-cut in the front that also laced up with the same rawhide as the sleeves. Just as we were heading to the cash register, I found Chris a black silk vest, which would be perfect over his newly purchased shirt.

The next shop on our shopping adventure was,Cloak and Dragons. The name seemed a little too mythical for Renaissance Era clothing, but we went in anyway. There it was: the bodice I was looking for. It was a deep purple, which pushed my breasts up tightly, flared at the waist with a scalloped cut, and laced up the front. I found a mid-calf-length flowing skirt in burgundy. The second skirt that goes on top of the base skirt was mid-thigh-length in the same deep purple. I also found a burgundy-colored flared shirt with long sleeves, which accented the push-up effect of the bodice. For Chris, we found a pair of pants that had a drop fly, which was a piece of material four inches long and three inches wide, held up by three brass buttons—let's talk easy access—and a pirate hat that was accented with gold stitching around the top.

Off to the final shop in search of accessories, this shop was called theMaidens and Pirates. Inside we found shoes; I decided on a pair of lace up suede mid-calf-height boots, and Chris went for the suede slip-on style. I bought a white and gold roped belt for myself. We found a burgundy head scarf for him with tails that came down onto his shoulder and a matching waist scarf that had gold tassels at the end. The only thing missing was a sword, which we decided was not a good idea.

When we finally got back home, after detouring to a small restaurant for dinner, the sky was finally starting to clear. By the time we finished putting away our new wardrobe the sun was already starting to set. He was sitting at the bar looking out on the ocean when I came downstairs. I stood behind him giving him a hug. I slowly took my shorts off and placed them on top of his head. He turned around and I threw my shirt at him. He tried to catch me but I was out the door.

As I ran over to the hot tub I could see him pulling off all of his clothes. I was fighting with my bra when he jumped in the hot tub, turning on the jets. As I climbed in next to him, he attacked me. Taking my breasts in both of his hands, he pushed them together, grabbed my nipples and kissed them. He must have spent ten minutes kissing and caressing my large breasts, floating on the water, before he knew what I was doing.

Unlike the jets in the bathtub, hot tubs have bigger more powerful jets. As he continued his assault of my breasts, I let the jets assault my pussy. His poor cock was just hanging there all by himself. I moved over facing him and plunged my breasts down on his cock. I took my nipples and twisted and pulled on them while he pushed his hips up and smothered his cock between my scrumptious breasts, in and out, with firm pressure on his cock.

It only took a few minutes and he released his juices, with so much force I was sprayed on my neck and chin from under the water. I sat back next to him cleaning my face on his towel. An ache from my pussy had me move my hips to let the jets continue their assault on me. Finally, figuring out what I was doing, he helped me along by gently kissing my neck and shoulders. Feeling the water pulsate my pussy, I felt my clit start quivering as a release came over me, then another. I was quickly left very satisfied.

We stayed in the hot water for awhile just talking. We were still young, financially stable and we still had things we wanted to try, see and taste. We had never been overseas, and wanted to experience Europe: take a boat ride through the canals of Venice, tour the museums in Amsterdam, see Big Ben in London, and of course climb the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

Russia has always intrigued me; I remember doing an elementary school report on what was then the U.S.S.R., and wanting to visit. I remember watching the Berlin Wall come down, and I wanted to see what is left. I would like to explore our own country, with a sense of wonderment and bewilderment. He has always wanted to tour Ireland, and visit some of the world's best golf courses. We both worked from home most of the time; occasionally, we make it to the office just to make sure things are running smoothly. Why couldn't we take a month and go to Europe, or even just stay here for another week?

We'd spent our last fifteen years working seventy plus hours a week. Maybe it really was time for us to enjoy life. As we climbed out of the hot tub—which had cooled to a warm tub—the night air was cold against our wet skin. We wrapped up in our towels and went back in to start a fire.

I laid a thick sleeping bag on the soft carpet. We both lay down, still naked and wet, in front of the fire, trying to warm ourselves.

I awoke Thursday morning to the smell of bacon. A real breakfast, twice in one week: this really was a fantasy. I was still naked wrapped in a soft blanket on the floor. I stood up and wrapped the blanket around myself as I walked over to the barstool. Breakfast was served. We sat there talking about the nice weather and how he was going golfing. I promised I wouldn't fall asleep on the beach again. I had postcards I wanted to write and the new book I bought on our shopping spree Sunday that I wanted to read.

Still sitting on the stool wrapped in only the blanket he came over and gave me a hug. As he engulfed my body in his arms, my face was pressed into his chest. I could hear his heart beating as he said, "I love you and cannot wait for tonight." He put his thumb and forefinger on my chin and raised my face up and gave me a long passionate kiss. I reached my arms around him, letting my blanket fall off of my shoulders revealing my bare breasts. As our kiss slowly came to an end he knelt down and started to lick my nipples. He was caressing my shoulders has he gently bit down on my nipple and I let out a small cry of pleasure.

"You better stop that; we have a long night ahead of us," I tried to say in a flat tone, but he had me all hot and bothered. This was the first time in a long while I could ever remember being touched this much and it creating so much of a response. I reached down and undid his shorts, only putting my hand in. I started rubbing his cock, till it got hard, which took only a few seconds. Then I nicely redid his pants and I went up stairs to find my bathing suit.

He followed up the stairs behind me, stopping me just shy of the landing, he spanked my ass. I stopped turned and faced him. He nicely placed two fingers in me, no rubbing, just right up in me as far as he could reach. He started moving just the tips of his fingers back and forth in me, knowing that they were rubbing up against my g-spot. I grabbed his head and kissed him. Before I could reach my climax, he pulled his fingers out of me and left to go play golf. Damn golf, I said to myself.

I went upstairs and did put on bathing suit, filled up my little tote bag with the postcards, my book, and a few pens. Down to the beach with blanket and chair in tow. As I sat on the beach reading my latest novel, my thoughts drifted to tonight. I had not picked out our complimentary basket; I was hoping I could show up a few minutes early and do that. I made it a point to remember to call when I got back to the house. I was wondering what it was going to be like. I understood the Kama Sutra-themed show, the other night. But what type of show did you have in the Renaissance Room? Time will tell.

I finished the chapter that I was on and started writing post cards to a few family members and to our friends. As I finished the last postcard I decided to go in the water only up to my knees. The water was way too cold to go in any farther. Just as I was heading out of the water a gust of wind blew my post cards all over; I ran out of the water trying to chase them down. I rounded up all but one. As I chased it down the wind blew it farther. Great. Over the rocks that separated our beach from our neighbors.

I tried to carefully climb over the rocks without hurting myself. There was that stupid card. I jumped down off of the rock onto my neighbor's beach, and as I bent down to pick up the post card I heard a familiar voice saying, "Hi, Tess!"

I turned around to see who it was, and there was Cindy, sunbathing nude. I was stunned. I caught myself admiring her perfect, melon-shaped, voluptuous breasts. Pencil test, yeah, she could pass it. Her body would have been perfect except that she was a little short. Not that I had room to judge. I said, "Hi! Why didn't you tell me you lived next door?"

"I didn't see the need to. Are you definitely coming tonight? What about the show on Sunday?" she said very pleasantly, almost too pleasant, I thought.

"The show on Sunday, I'm still not sure. Actually I was just going up to the house to call. I never got a drink list, nor did I get a chance to pick out the items for the complimentary basket. But the darn wind blew my postcards all over," I said, winded from the postcard chase.

"If you would like and if you really don't mind, I think I know you two well enough that I will surprise you tonight with your drinks. The basket, you can show up 15 minutes early and pick it out together if you would like." she said, with a look on her face that puzzled me.

Not sure what to say or how to say it I said, "Okay, but he doesn't like sweet drinks."

"Is Jeff picking you guys up?" she asked very forward.

"Yes, and he is bringing us back home. Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to go and get ready." I said, as I turned to climb back over those big black rocks.

"See you tonight," she yelled, as I was straddling the rocks, safely arriving back on my side of the world. Something about her made me feel uneasy and still at ease all at the same time. I was not sure what it was, as I picked up my things and headed back up to the house.

I shook out my blanket and folded it over the railing. Grabbed my tote bag and went inside to call Café Aphrodite to ask them to pick us up a half-hour earlier, which meant we had to be ready by 4:00 instead of 4:30. I quickly called Chris on the cell phone, left a voicemail telling him the time change and went upstairs.

I laid out both of our costumes, making sure nothing was missing. When I was confident that everything was there I went and turned on the shower. Taking his electric razor I trimmed my triangle, cutting down some of the longer hairs. Brushing out my hair, I looked into the mirror; I was still very attractive and still had a long ways to go before I had to worry about looking old. I was happy with the picture I saw before me.

Into the shower, as I washed I felt a sense of uneasiness, like someone was watching me. I was actually scared to open the shower door. I knew there was someone there, but whom? I figured it was just a figment of my imagination, and continued washing myself, and shaving everything silky smooth. I still couldn't shake that feeling, when the shower door opened I was relieved to see Chris come in.

I told him about our neighbor and the conversation I had had with her, and how he had scared the living life out of me. He apologized; he just wanted to see what I was doing, or not doing. We were pushing the clock a little, so he had to wash himself this time, but I told him next time I would wash him. We both laughed as I stepped out of the shower. Putting a hair towel on my head I dried off and went into the bedroom. I was standing there naked when he got out of the shower.

Picking up where he left off earlier I was transcended into pleasured bliss as he inserted his two fingers deep in me rubbing up against my g-spot. I came and came hard as he quickly pleasured me. I wanted to give him pleasure, as well, but time was not on our side. It was already 3:30 and we still had to get dressed.

I put on my shirt without a bra—that is what the bodice was for. I settled on my white crotchless panties, something different. I pulled up my first skirt, and had to pull down the second skirt so they would lay neatly on one another. I went into the bathroom with my bodice; I needed the mirrors to ensure it was placed correctly. I pulled it down over my head, which still had the towel on it. I needed help. I could not get the rawhide though the eyelets. Chris was more than willing to watch my breasts move up and define my cleavage with each eyelet threaded, and pulled tightly. Breathing was my next dilemma; he had laced me up so tightly I could hardly breathe, and we laughed as he had problems redoing the lacing.

I took the towel off of my head and let my long brownish-red hair that was nearly dry, fall all around my newly defined cleavage. I looked amazing, like a well-manicured wench from the Middle Ages. All I needed was my gold and white twisted rope belt.

I walked back into the bedroom, looking at Chris said, "Johnny Depp, you have met your match." He looked very much the pirate part with his exposed, fine chest hairs poking through the loosely-laced collar, the black vest accenting his rippled muscles. All he needed was the eye patch and sword and he could have gone to Hollywood. The black pants with the shiny brass buttons accentuated his cock, even soft. I wanted to taste him; I think he looked better in the Pirate outfit than he did in the tux. Something about the burgundy head scarf, accenting his red hair, drove me crazy with desire.

Down the stairs we headed, hearing the buzzer ring. Our ride had arrived. Jeff, kindly opened the limo door for us to get in. Inside the limo, I noticed things that I had not the other night. There was a television with a DVD player, a fully-stocked bar and red leather upholstery. Jeff rolled down the widow separating the two compartments telling us that a special drink was made for us in the refrigerator.

I hastily opened the fridge to find two glass bottles one had Chris written on it and the other Tess. We took our respective bottles and drank. Mine tasted just like the Candy Maker I had Saturday night, and sure enough Chris' was the same Matinee. The bottles were only 8-ounces; by the time we reached Café Aphrodite they were gone and so were any inhibitions. We tipped Jeff very well for the ride and said that we would see him later.

Hand-in-hand we walked down the red carpet to the Maitre'd. This time he didn't ask us if we had reservations; he just led us off to the left. We walked behind the row of booths, to a separate hallway that was lined by Knights in Shining Armor. There were closed doors to the right every eight feet; they were a façade of a castle wall, appearing to be made of thick, heavy wood. We were escorted to the eighth door. As the Maitre'd opened the door, I was mesmerized. There was an eight-foot-square room with a six-foot-long sofa that had the traditional scalloped back, upholstered with red velvet. The wall opposite the door was one-way glass, or so we were told, that looked out to a Castle Courtyard, with trees and grass. The ceiling was lit like it was daytime.

All around the upper deck I counted twenty mirrors, which I assumed were other rooms like this one. The walls were red velvet drapes and behind the drapes was a façade stone wall. On the table was the complimentary basket wrapped in the familiar gold velvet. The chairs had hand and leg restraints, lined with black crushed velvet. Other than the chairs there was no other bondage-type paraphernalia. We both breathed a sigh of relief.

We sat down in the chairs, finding that the hand restraints easily slid off, which we both did. I was studying the 'courtyard' below us, feeling almost like a queen watching her loyal subjects. There were servants tending to the gardens, peasant people strolling through the community market, appearing to purchase their meager items. Everyone was dressed in period costume. It was a sight to behold. As I was transfixed on the scene below, Cindy came in.

She was dressed very similarly to the peasant girls below, a muslin skirt and a black lace bodice that left little to the imagination. She had no shirt on under the bodice, so the lace showed her nipples protruding through the material. She set down our drinks while she made small talk about the weather and her visitor today on the beach.

She explained that my purple drink was an Erotophilia which loosely means a positive response to sex. His was a Snowballer, which means a guy is with two girls and cums in one of their mouths and then they swap it back and forth. As appropriate his was white. With that she left.

My drink had a strong presence of alcohol. Not that it burned, but I knew I had to pace myself, if I wanted to last all night. The drink itself was grape in flavor, with a strong under flavor of lime. Chris' was not as strong as mine, but definitely contained alcohol; his was more of a vanilla flavor with a cinnamon kick. They were both good.

My attention was again drawn to the scene below us as there seemed to be less and less clothing on the actors below. The long peasant skirts were being replaced by sheer short skirts; where there were once shirts worn under their bodices, there were now just lace bodices. The men only had their vests on, and tight pants that accentuated their cocks. The temperature in our own booth seemed to be steadily increasing. He was looking a little warm and uncomfortable. Being the kind wife, I helped him take off his shirt, but before I would let him put his vest back on I liked his nipples to full plumpness.

As he put his vest back on, I undid the buttons to his drop fly. Slowly tracing all of him with fingers, I watched as his base got bigger, the girth increasing up his shaft to his head. His full eight inches were clearly visible to my peering eye. I licked him, and licked him, till Cindy came back in. She was seeing his full girth and she even let out a sigh, quickly diverting her eyes. I let him cover back up and sit back down.

She sat down our appetizers and of course the infamous condiment holder of flavored lubes, except this tray of lubes was different. There was the traditional mint, chocolate, and strawberry, but instead of the grape there was a black one and instead of the pink plain lube there was a blue one. Cindy explained that the black one was a combination of chocolate which causes multiple orgasms, and the strawberry which heats up everything. The blue one she cautioned, is blueberry flavored that has led to uninhibited behavior. It can be rubbed anywhere; the pores absorb the liquid then it enters the bloodstream leading to erotic fantasies being fulfilled. She offered extreme caution with this lube.