Showing posts with label Seduction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seduction. Show all posts

July 30, 2012

When Frederick Met Camille

Frederick got up from the desk and went to answer the knock at the door, surprised they hadn’t used the bell. Standing before him was a lovely young girl, dressed in something resembling a bell boy’s outfit including the stylized hat and white gloves. She offered him an envelope with great flourish. With an upturned, open palm she indicated that he should open it, and she stood silent and still. The whole routine made him grin.

Before he turned his attention to the envelope he looked the girl up and down. The bell boy costume was very true to form except for one obvious unusual feature, the lack of buttons down the front of the shirt. The shirt was open at the neck, plunged down to a single studded closure at the navel and with the tails tucked into a pair of tailored low-rise trousers. A pair of suspenders bracketed her smallish, but ample breasts, pressing them together into a cleavage that amplified the open front of the shirt.

He stood and stared at the girl’s chest, her navel and the snug fit of her trousers, largely ignoring the envelope until a second gesture reminded him to open it.

Finally, Frederick broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out its contents, a card which read:

Personal Invitation

You are invited to spend the evening as the guest of Patrick

A limousine will arrive to pick you up at 7:00 PM

Transportation will be provided to and from the event

Dress is formal casual and all your needs will be attended to for the evening

R.S.V.P. to the delivery boy


Laughing out loud, he said to himself, Patrick, you sneaky bastard. This explained Patrick’s dinner invitation for this very evening issued a couple weeks ago, an obvious ploy to lock in his calendar.

He looked back up at the girl, still standing stark still in front of him, again noticing her breasts, but this time also the stylized page boy haircut, very bright red lipstick and dramatic eyebrow makeup. She was an attractive girl, probably in her late 20s and she obviously seemed to be enjoying playing this role, if it was a role she was playing.

After giving the girl another once over, he returned his attention to her face and invited her in, but she waved off the invitation with a dismissive gesture. She tilted her head with a quizzical look, begging his response.

“Please tell Patrick I am happy and excited to accept his invitation and will be glad to attend the event.”

At that the girl tipped her hat, smiled, and turned and headed toward the stairs, leaving him to stand and watch her trim little body flow off down the hall. It was his first opportunity to notice just how nicely the trousers had been tailored all around. She turned right and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine and a not so faint, lovely memory.

He walked to the end of the hallway and stepped through the French doors into the bright morning sun and onto the little balcony. Looking down he saw a shiny black limousine with a driver holding the back door open. Just then the girl came out of the building and stepped into the back seat. The driver closed the door and walked around to his side of the car. Looking in through the sunroof he could see the girl removing her hat and shaking out her hair as they drove off.

* * * *

Walking back into the apartment he read over the invitation again, turned it over, looked into the envelope and realized it didn’t offer any explanation of the nature of the evening ahead. “All your needs will be attended to”, was very broad, and seemingly all inclusive. And the dress code; dress formal casual, what was formal casual, black silk pajamas? He sat down in his easy chair and pondered his knowledge of Patrick and tried to imagine exactly what he had in mind for the evening ahead. He leaned his head back and soon dozed off.

* * * *

After awakening from his late morning nap, he went about his routines, doing some business online and reading/responding to various emails.

At 5 o’clock he got up from his desk and went about showering and shaving and dressing for the evening. He decided on a pair of relaxed slacks, a button up collarless shirt and a pair of sandals. It was going to be a warm evening and he wanted as much comfort as his wardrobe could afford him.

Just as the sun was setting the doorbell rang. He looked at his watch, 7 o’clock on the button. Opening the door he found a nice looking gentleman in a black suit, white shirt with an open collar and a black beret, the chauffeur.

“Frederick, yes? Your ride is here, are you ready?”

“Yes, I am, thank you. Just let me get my things and I will be right down.”

“Very good Sir, I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

Frederick turned back into the apartment to make sure everything was turned off, put his keys and coins and billfold into his pockets and grabbed his shoulder bag. One last look around and he walked out the door and headed down the stairwell. At the front door the limo driver stood holding the back passenger door for him. He climbed in, the door was closed and he settled back, enjoying the nice cool air blowing through the vents.

The driver got into the car and leaning around over the seat back, through the partition to say, “I have one stop to make along the way and then I will get you to Patrick’s club straight away.”

“Very good, thank you.”

As the heavily smoked partition was closed he found himself in a nearly dark backseat, which was very comfortable and offered legs-straight-out leg room, a luxury he really appreciated. Looking around he saw a sound system control panel and what looked like a small liquor cabinet beside a mini refrigerator. These were flanked by cushions for fold down rear facing jump seats which would consume a good bit of the spacious leg room, but in their folded upright position were completely out of the way.

He was so engrossed in surveying the surrounds he had not paid any attention to where the driver was taking him and was startled when the car pulled over out of traffic and settled into a parking space on the wrong side of the street in front of a dress shop. Looking up through the sunroof he could see that the building was three stories tall; there was the street level business and two floors of what appeared to be residences above it. The driver got out and went through a doorway at the side of the storefront, probably a stairway up to the second and third floors.

He continued to explore the fitments in the back of the limo, changing the sound system from the FM radio to the CD function and the system clicked into some very nice soft jazz. He decided he would let the CD continue to play. It was not an artist that he knew, but he very much liked the music.

Suddenly the opposite back door of the limo was opening and someone was climbing into the back of the limo with him as the driver closed the door. It was the bellboy girl who had delivered the invitation to him earlier in the day, still dressed in the same silly costume. He turned sideways in his seat and just looked at her as she sat looking at him.

“Hello, I guess I’m giving you a ride to work at Patrick’s?” He wondered if she would speak this time or continue to be mute as she had been at their morning meeting.

“Hello. Well, not exactly. I’m going with you to Patrick’s, yes, but not to work. I’m your blind date for the evening.”

Frederick sat there astonished. What had Patrick arranged for him? Who was this girl? What was going on? He suddenly realized that he was staring at her with his mouth half open in amazement. He mentally shook himself. He tapped on the partition and told the driver to remain here for the time being while he straightened this out.

“I’m sorry young lady, but I’m really not interested in some hired escort for the evening. I don’t know what Patrick has promised you or what arrangements he might have made, but I don’t think this is something that is going to work out.”

She smiled and said, “There have been no arrangements made by Patrick, or anyone, for you in regard to me. I am here of my own free will and interest, and am not an escort of any kind or someone who can be arranged for in such a manner.”

“Really? Then can you tell me what this is all about?” he asked.

“My name is Camille and I am one of the owners of this dress shop.” she said, gesturing out the window to the storefront.

“I’ve worked with Patrick on the arrangements for this evening, but as an accomplice, and have outfitted two girls for him with dresses and fittings for this evening. However, they have nothing to do with you, or me. That was business I had with Patrick. Being here with you and going to Patrick’s party with you is something I arranged for on my own. You might say I invited myself to his party. In fact, I invited you to his party as well.”

“Then what is this evening all about, what is it that you and Patrick have cooked up? And how do I figure into this scheme?”

“Patrick made arrangements for a few of his very special customers, a surprise party in the private part of his club; you know where I am talking about. When he was telling me about the evening and asking for my help, I asked why you were not included. He said he didn’t think you would enjoy such an arranged evening and so had not included you.”

“He was right; this kind of a party is not my cup of tea. You should have listened to his counsel.”

“Sir, please hear me out. This is not about you being part of some special party at Patrick’s, but rather about me having found an opportunity to spend some time with you and get to know you. We met briefly at my 30th birthday party at Patrick’s a couple years ago; I found you very intriguing and appealing. Tonight’s party has simply afforded me the chance to invite you to be my guest for an evening. I want you to be my date; I want to be your date, for the evening.”

He stared at her and thought about this. What an interesting and elaborate ruse she had concocted. He looked at her, she was a cute girl, he had noticed that even in the morning and decided he might enjoy this evening after all. And he had complete faith in Patrick and so would trust his involvement.

“Well, if we are going to go through with this evening’s plans, whatever they might entail, we need to change your clothes. I don’t want to spend the evening with a girl whose outfit looks like a cross between an organ grinder and his chimp. I loved your costume this morning, but it is not appropriate for an evening out.”

Frederick tapped on the partition again and told the driver they were going back up to the apartment for a few minutes and would be back down shortly.

He reached across Camille’s lap and pushed the door open and followed her out. She unlocked the door to the stairway and he followed her up the stairs to the third floor. He had to admit that he really did love the way her trousers were tailored and would not have minded several more flights of stairs for the opportunity to enjoy the view of her cheeks swaying back and forth, so snugly contained.

He continued to follow her up the stairs, down the hall and waited patiently while she opened her apartment door and let him in. He looked around and saw a very nicely appointed living room, sparingly furnished in a semi-modern style. The decor showed semblances of her profession, she clearly brought her fashion and dress shop work home with her.

“Where is your closet?”

She suddenly seemed quite shy, in contrast to the girl who had just told him how she had arranged this evening as a bold and forward way of getting to know him. Suddenly she was shy about him looking into her closet. Finally, she pointed to a hallway off of the living room and he could see a set of double doors on the left side of the hall.

He stepped into the hall and in front of the doors, “Right here?”

She nodded her head and he pulled the doors open and found a surprisingly large walk in closet, completely out of proportion to the size of the apartment. He walked in and could instantly see how the closet was arranged. Pants and slacks hanging over here, then jackets, then skirts, blouses next and finally dresses. He started browsing through the dresses as Camille came up beside him, looking very anxious. As he thumbed through, he would occasionally push a space open to view a particular dress and then move on. Toward the end of the section of dresses he came upon a dark blue halter dress secured to its hanger by braided ties. He spread open some space and gave it a more thorough examination. It was a very simple dress, almost skimpy in design with a hi-low hem style, considerably shorter in the front than in the back. It had a deep plunging back and nice peek-a-boo slit between the breasts. He glanced over at Camille and the plunging neckline of her shirt and could imagine how nicely the dress would cling to the shape of her breasts and show their roundness through the open slit.

He pulled the dress down off the pole and held it up to Camille. She instinctively grabbed the material and spread it across her body to show how it would look on her. He nodded his approval and draped the dress across the back of the chair in the corner. He turned back to the closet and looked through the rest of the dresses, but couldn’t find anything else that would overrule his first choice.

He turned and looked back at Camille and saw a strange look on her face, “What?”

“No man has ever come into my home, taken over my closet and selected something for me to wear quite like this. Certainly men have suggested what they would like to see me in, but never has anyone taken over a clothing selection so thoroughly. I am not sure what to think about it, I find it very appealing, it is a very sexy thing to do to a girl. Do you know that?”

He broke out in a broad smile and said, “Yes, I do. Perhaps it is part of what makes me, how did you say it, “intriguing and appealing”? If you had not liked it, it probably would have signaled a very short evening.”

He stepped over in front of her and pulled the suspenders and shirt down off her shoulders. Without waiting for a reaction he stepped past her, gave her a firm but playful backhanded swat on the bottom and walked into the living room, “Hurry up now and get changed.”

* * * *

Frederick went and sat down on the couch and waited for her, casually looking around at the room’s furnishings. It was a very comfortable room. He sat back and relaxed.

When she came out, she stopped in the middle of the room, turned around slowly and said, “What do you think? Is it what you expected?”

He was very impressed, the dress clung to her features exactly as it was designed, it cupped her pert breasts, flowed down off her hips, and the dipped back came right down to the dimples in the small of her back, just above her buttocks. He raised his eyebrows and said enthusiastically, “It’s lovely and looks exactly how I had hoped it would on you, wonderful. And I really like the shoes.”

She had added a pair of fairly high heels that really accented her legs, but he noticed something wrong and told her to come closer. She came up and stood right in front of him, “Yes?”

He reached out and put his hand on the outside of her calf and paused to judge her reaction. Finding none, he slowly slid his hand up her calf, past her knee and on up the outside of her thigh until he felt the top of the thigh-hi stockings she was wearing. He hooked his thumb into the elastic around their top, looked up into her eyes and made a clucking sound, “These will have to go.”

She registered no surprise, just acceptance. He moved his hand further up her thigh until his hand was on her bare hip. He shook his head back and forth, “No, no, this isn’t right. Sit down here and remove those stocking.”

He got up and gave her a hand sitting down onto the couch then walked off into the hallway out of sight. When he returned Camille was sitting with her legs half tucked under the couch, stockings folded neatly, sitting on the coffee table. He walked up to her and said, “Here, put these on.”

It was a small pair of black mesh bikini panties.

* * * *

Once they were back out in the limo and heading towards Patrick's place Camille fell silent again and he took to alternately looking out the window and looking her over head to toe, becoming more and more intrigued with her audacity at setting up such an arrangement. It was not often that he was so actively pursued by someone, preferring to be the aggressor himself, and usually beating them to the punch.

When the limo pulled up to the VIP entrance at the side of Patrick’s club Camille started to get out of the car, but he gestured toward her to stay and said, “I need to speak to Patrick for a minute and then I’ll be back for you.”

Camille nodded and settled back down in her seat as he got out and walked through the entrance into the club.

Patrick stepped forward and greeted his friend with a hug, “So good to see you Frederick. I’m very pleased you accepted my invitation and decided to join us for the evening. I promise, you will have a wonderful time.”

Looking around past Frederick’s shoulder Patrick seemed confused, he said, “You are always so punctual, you're actually a little early, things won’t be starting for a while now. But where is Camille?”

“She’s out in the car waiting for me. I’m looking forward to the show tonight, but I have a couple things to do first. I assume you won’t mind me using the limo and driver for a while longer?”

“Not at all, just don’t be too long, I wouldn’t want you to miss anything. How long will it be before you are back?”

“Probably not much more than an hour, maybe a bit longer.”

“Hopefully not, we should just be getting underway in an hour or so. What do you need to do first?”

He smiled at Patrick, shook his hand and clapped his shoulder with his free hand, “See you in a while Patrick,” and turned and walked back out.

After exiting the club he walked around to the driver and tapped on the window. The driver lowered the window, “Patrick has extended me the use of you and your car for a couple of errands I need to run before the party tonight. I hope you will be able to accommodate me?”

“Most certainly Sir. I was hired for the evening and would just be waiting around for several hours to drive you home at the end of the night. I’ll be happy to have something to do.”

“Very good, thank you.” At that he gave him instructions on where to drive to and went around and got back into his seat.

* * * *

Frederick slid his hand across the back of the seat as he got into the car, letting it come to rest on Camille’s shoulder and then neck, and said, “Patrick says hello and he hopes you’re having a nice evening; that everything is going as you’d planned.”

Rather than pulling away from his hand she leaned in his direction, smiled and said, “So far so good, wouldn’t you say?”

He just smiled in response and lifted the big armrest divider up and back into the cushion so there was nothing between them. At that, Camille moved over across the seat a bit more so that his hand was now on her opposite shoulder and she leaned in against him slightly. He responded by tightening his grip around her and they both settled back and fell silent and both seemed absorbed in listening to the music.

After they had been driving for a few minutes she asked, “Where are we going? Aren't we going to go to Patrick’s party?”

“We’ll be going back to the party after a while, but nothing will be starting for an hour or two, and rather than hang around all those people I thought we might enjoy the quiet night or maybe going for swim.”

Camille gave him look of surprise, “A swim? Where on earth would we go swimming?”

He looked down at her with a conspiratorial smile and said, “I’m a member of a private club that has a very nice facility that just happens to include a full sized swimming pool.”

She looked up at him and smiled, and moved closer, raising her head and offered him a kiss, which he willingly accepted and prolonged. He pulled her in closer, wrapped his arm around her tighter and turned in his seat to more fully engage with her. When they broke the kiss they were both looking into each other eyes, smiling, even grinning. He moved his hand up to the back of her head and slipped his fingers into her hair, taking a tight grip of a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. He leaned in and kissed her again, more aggressively than before and worked his mouth over hers, parting her lips with the tip of his tongue.

She let out a little moan at the tug on her hair and fell back, not offering any resistance to his pull, her lips parted slightly. He could feel her jaw relaxing as her mouth opened more. He rotated his body toward her and deepened the kiss which she returned with equal ferocity, her mouth now fully open and accepting his tongue as it probed and explored the insides of her mouth, her own tongue, her teeth and even the roof of her mouth.

Still gripping the back of her head by her hair he reached over and tucked his hand under her arm and pulled her over toward him. She rotated with the pull, but rather than ending up laying against him she moved so she was astride his left thigh, hands against his torso. He had to lean down even further to continue the kiss since she was nearly out of reach. As he tried to pull her up closer she put her hands on his chest and pushed off, breaking the kiss.

He let go of the kiss and his grip on her hair and took hold of her upper arms with each hand as she slid back even further, rocking herself in a grinding movement against the muscles of his upper thigh. His grip on her arms helped balance her on his leg. He smiled at her as he saw her eyes begin to glaze over, recognizing the pleasure she was bringing to herself. He could feel the damp heat in his leg as she rode up and back, making low gasping noises and he flexed the muscles on his leg to provide an even firmer surface for her.

As he held her arms, looking into her eyes, she looking back at him, he could feel her arms becoming tense. Her leg muscles grew tense as her whole body stiffened and she threw her head back and grunted out, panting and shaking all over. He held tight to her arms to help steady her until her spasms passed and she collapsed down against him, breathing heavily, gasping in short breaths.

Slowly but surely she relaxed and began taking longer, slower breaths, still with her face buried in his chest. Camille looked up at him and shook her head as if to clear her mind. She gave him a sly smile then collapsed back down against his chest again.

* * * *

As she laid there relaxing the limo came to a stop and the engine was shut off. Frederick heard the driver's door open, felt the car jostle, and then the door closed, then silence. He knew they had arrived at the club and the driver was excusing himself as they had discussed.

He took Camille’s head in his hands and said, “We are at the club swimming pool and the driver has left us for a while. He will be enjoying himself in the lounge until I call him back. Would you like to go for a swim?”

She shook her head, “No, not just yet.”

She laid there against his chest, still astride his thigh resting against his knee, he felt her hand on the inside of his leg. She was slowly running her hand up and down the inside of his thigh, stopping every once in a while to lightly pinch or squeeze a handful of flesh. He could feel her breathing starting to change again and the heavier her breath the more time she spent with her hand rubbing and pressing his erection.

Suddenly she moved, sliding down off of his thigh and landing on the floor of the back seat, between his feet and pulled herself up into a cross legged sitting position, and scooted herself up close to the seat between his thighs. She shifted around and pulled up on her dress so it rose and then bellowed down around and over her crossed ankles and legs. Once settled she put a hand on each of his thighs and rubbed them up and down, pushing further up each time until her hand were up around the waistband of his slacks. She curled her fingers inside the waistband and slid them to the center; she fumbled with buttons and zipper until she had them undone and was able to peel them open.

He felt her hands working to undo the waistband and then the feel of the material being peeled down. Next he felt her hands rubbing him through his shorts, knowing she could feel his involuntary throbbing. He looked down at her and saw the concentration and determination in her face. He reached out and was barely able to tangle his fingers in the hair at the top of her head, but could tell she enjoyed the tease, her head swayed and she hummed a soft tune.

Just then she reached up and roughly pulled down his shorts, so hard that he had to lift his hips off the seat to allow them to slide down off of his bottom. Once freed she took him in her hands and stroked slowly, stretching the skin, causing him to grow even harder as she worked him up and down. He let go of her hair and settled back, enjoying her handiwork. As she continued to work him with her hands his breathing got shorter and his hips moved up and back in rhythm with her stroking.

His arousal built more and more until he was starting to throb, he involuntarily moaned his pleasure. He was sure she should be able to feel it in her hand but was not slowing down or changing her pace in any way. He was feeling his release building deep in his groin and wasn’t sure how much more attention he was going to be able to tolerate without exploding. She looked at him and gave him a big smile then lowered her head again.

Suddenly she increased her pace and he knew he was moments away, sweating all over. All of his muscles tightened and his legs tried to push out straight. She leaned up onto her knees and forward toward him and pulled him down toward her and just as he could hold it no longer and burst out with his orgasm she placed her mouth over the head of his cock. She swallowed quickly, several times, until he stopped throbbing and began to relax, even though he did not soften yet.

She settled back on the floor, but continued to hold and caress him. After a couple minutes he began to relax and soften. He reached down and lifted her head until their eyes met, and they both smiled. He settled back and continued to hold her head, tangling his fingers in her tousled hair.

Camille moved up to the seat and sat close, cuddling up while he grappled with getting his slacks rearranged and buttoned and zipped up. After he had himself back together he pulled his phone and called the driver back.

* * * *

When the limo dropped them off at the club they were greeted just inside the door by Patrick himself, “Well, where have you two been for the past couple hours?”

“It is such a lovely night, we went to go for a swim. I hope we got back in time and didn’t miss much?”

“No, in fact things are just getting started. Go ahead on in and make yourselves comfortable. Someone will be around to get your drink and food orders shortly.”

“Thank you very much, we are looking forward to a very nice evening.”

As they walked by Patrick noticed that neither of them had wet hair. But before he could ask again they had moved into the crowd, into the noise, and on into the night.

January 29, 2012

Agnes's Birthday - Dinner

Continued from here

The maitre d' looked down at his list and then back at Frederick and said, “Party of three?” Frederick said, “Yes, but only two of us are here now. We can be seated, we don’t need to wait.”

“Very good sir, right this way please.”

The assistant smiled as they stepped forward to be led to their table. Frederick smiled back, reaching out and handing the girl the bouquet of rose buds, “Could you please put these in a vase and have them brought to the table? Thank you.” She smiled and nodded.

Frederick put his hand in the small of Agnes’s back and ushered her forward to follow his lead. He led them through the front dining area toward a set of of doors that opened to the back room. Frederick noticed the attention that their passage was drawing, and knew that Agnes was the cause of the stirring. In her little black dress she was very alluring, catching the attention of both the men and the women as she passed by, enjoying the way her body moved. There was a natural flow to the dress, it clung at her hips and accented the shape of her bottom. The hem of the skirt flipped up to the back of each thigh alternately as she took each step and her hair swung in cadence with her arms.

Passing through the doors to the back dining area, they were in a room of surprisingly large size, filled with a half dozen extravagant overstuffed booths along one wall. On the right were heavily carved oak tables with various seating arrangements for parties of four or six. In between was what served as a dance floor and at the far end was a small step up stage cloaked by heavy curtains. Back to the far right was the sitting area with couches and tables, the area where Frederick had brought Agnes on their first evening out.

They were led to a table in the right side of the room; a table for four, but set for just three. The maitre d' held the menus in his hand and gestured with the other, indicating, ‘here is your table’. A server was standing at the far side of the table pouring glasses of water and next to him was the sommelier attending to a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of Riesling with it’s characteristically long thin neck.

Agnes moved to sit down but Frederick put a hand on her arm. She looked back at him and he shook his head and said softly, “Not just yet, hold on.” The server finished setting the table and walked off after exchanging nods with Frederick. The sommelier uncorked the bottle, poured a sampling into one of the wine glasses and offered it to Frederick. Frederick took the glass, swirled the liquid around, sniffed the bouquet and took a small taste. “Superb! Thank you very much.” Frederick sat the glass down, the sommelier poured a second glass, and finished filling Frederick’s glass, and placed the two glasses on the table. Frederick thanked him. He put the bottle back into the bucket and withdrew.

Just then the girl arrived with the bouquet of roses and placed them in the middle of the table. Frederick walked around behind Agnes and pulled out a chair for her, she sat down and he pushed it in. He walked around the table, moving the vase to the back edge of the table out of the middle and proceeded to seat himself, but before he sat down he picked up his wine glass, lifted it in a toast.

“Happy Birthday sweet girl. I hope you have an enjoyable evening and that it is a fitting celebration for you.”

Agnes picked up her glass, lifted it up toward Frederick, took a small drink and said, “Thank you very much Frederick. I am sure it will be, I am looking forward to the night.”

With that Frederick sat down himself and smiled across the table at Agnes. Looking around he could see that the booths were filling up and there was developing a strong background murmur of conversations across the room. He had noticed that they had captured the attention of several parties as they’d proceeded into the room and were escorted to their table.

“Why is there a third setting?”

“Someone will be joining us for dinner. He is a special friend of mine and I wanted him to help us celebrate your birthday.”

A waitress arrived with a basket containing a variety of breads, two shallow dishes and a rack holding olive oil and vinegar bottles. She poured a medium size pool of olive oil onto each dish then poured balsamic into the olive oil. Frederick noticed Agnes’s curious look and said, “Break off some bread and dip it into the mix.”

They sat and quietly drank wine and ate bread, with no conversation, listening to the background music. Just as the waiter stopped by to refresh their wine glasses another man approached Frederick and greeted him. “Good evening Frederick.”

Frederick stood and shook the man’s hand. “Good evening Patrick, I am so glad you were able to join us.”

Frederick pointed to the third wine glass, and the waiter poured a glass of wine for Patrick and ushered him to his seat.

Frederick introduced him to Agnes. “Patrick, this is Agnes, a very special friend of mine and our birthday girl. Agnes, this is Patrick, he is the owner of this restaurant.”

Agnes offered her hand and Patrick kissed it. “Happy Birthday Agnes, I am so pleased that you have chosen to celebrate your birthday here. I hope you have an enjoyable evening, one you will not forget.”

“It is an interesting and exciting place. I have been here once before with Frederick. In fact it was the first place he took me out to, and I confess it was an eye-opener.”

“What did you discover here Agnes?”

Well, sir, it was a place like I’ve never been to before. Before coming to Paris, I was just a country girl and had never ventured far from my hometown, a small town to the south. Since moving here and meeting Frederick I have seen many things that I didn’t know existed and seen things I never knew people did.”

Patrick gave her a knowing smile but simply said, “I am glad you enjoy yourself here.”

At that Patrick turned to Frederick and began discussing menu selections. Noting that Frederick had selected a very nice Riesling, he suggested a couple of fish dishes that he thought they would enjoy. Frederick asked if they had any particularly nice pasta dishes that he would recommend and Patrick mentioned a spaghetti with squash blossoms and an eggplant dish but wondered if they was substantial or festive enough for the occasion.

Patrick turned to Agnes and said, “So, since you are the birthday girl, do you have anything in particular that you would like to have for dinner?”

Agnes smiled back at him, looked at Frederick for a moment, and then back at Patrick and said, sheepishly but with conviction, “That is something that is up to Frederick, he has told me that he will be making all the decisions about the celebration of my birthday. I am a little apprehensive but so far so good, and I do trust his judgment.”

Patrick looked back at Frederick and gave him a wry smile, and said, “So, it would seem that you are the man of the hour. Knowing you as I do, I’m not surprised by this. What strikes your fancy this evening Frederick?”

Frederick returned the smile and said, “Let me have one last glance through the menu and see what I might have missed. In the meantime I think another bottle of wine would tide us over until the food starts to arrive.”

At that Patrick gestured to the waitress. She was there immediately and took the wine order. Shortly the wine steward arrived and uncorked a second bottle which he placed in the ice bucket after topping off everyones glasses.

Frederick put down the menu and turned to Patrick, “There are so many wonderful choices I am having a hard time selecting just one or two. What would be perfect for us would be a platter of your chefs favorite offerings of pastas and vegetable dishes. Something we could all share and experience a nice variety.”

“An excellent idea Frederick. Excuse me for a minute while I go to the kitchen and make some arrangements.” Patrick got up from the table and headed back toward the kitchen.


After he was gone Agnes agreed, what a wonderful idea that was because she herself had been having trouble selecting just one dish from several she was curious about. Frederick agreed and allowed as how Patrick surely had a very good idea what would be best although he’d not wanted to impose his ideas on them without allowing them their own choices.

The table fell into quiet as they all listened to the music of the quartet on stage, munched on bread and cheese, and just relaxed. Suddenly Frederick turned back to Agnes and said, “Please, sit up straight in your chair.”

In response Agnes adjusted and stiffened her posture in her seat, with a quizzical look on her face. She was clearly taken by surprise at Frederick’s command. She sat up straight, placed her napkin on the table and put her arms on the arms of the chair, feet flat on the floor. There was a small smile on her face that seemed to speak of self pride at complying perfectly with the instruction while waiting for his purpose to reveal itself.

Just then Patrick returned, beaming, and took his seat. He told them that he had taken the liberty of suggesting a couple dishes that would take a bit longer but would be well worth the wait. Frederick and Agnes both nodded their acceptance of his decisions and offered Patrick a small toast of thanks.

“Did I miss anything?” asked Patrick, noticing the overly formal way in which Agnes was sitting in her chair.

Agnes said, “Oh, no. We’ve just been listening to the lovely music and enjoying the bread and wine.”

Frederick added, “That is right, but I am glad you are back. I was just starting something with Agnes.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

And simultaneously, Agnes said, “Oh.”

Frederick gave Patrick a conspiratorial smile and turned his attention back to Agnes.


“Are your feet flat on the floor? Put your hands on the table, fingers interlaced.”

Frederick glanced down under the table and saw her toes, even with each other, a few inches apart.

“Cross one leg over the other, nice and snug.”

Agnes shifted slightly in her seat, looking at Patrick, and then staring at Frederick, but did not move.

“Cross your legs Agnes.”

“But Frederick,” glancing again at Patrick and at the room around them.

In a deeper, more stern voice Frederick said simply, “Agnes,” and glared at her.

For a couple of long quiet minutes, neither moved nor spoke. Then, reluctantly, she shifted around, and complied.

“Good girl. Now, start rocking your upper foot.”

She sat perfectly still except for the slight torquing of her torso as she rocked her upper leg, flexing at the knee. Her pace was steady, just as Frederick had taught her. She stared down at the place setting in front of her, concentrating.

Frederick snapped his fingers and Agnes looked up, “Look at me Agnes.”

Frederick could see the rocking leg was beginning to have its effect on her, looking at her face; he could see her eyes were beginning to glaze over. She continued on as he instructed. Agnes would let her gaze drift away but each time she did Frederick rapped a knuckle on the table top and she looked back up at him. Soon her breathing was becoming more and more ragged and her whole body was tensing.

Noticing her reactions, Frederick said, “Okay Agnes, slow down now.”

“Please, no, Frederick.”

“Agnes, slow down, come back from the edge.”

She slowed the pace of her rocking leg and took several deep breaths.

“Okay Agnes. I want you to stop for now, we can finish this later.”

Frederick had a slight smile on his face, but Agnes was clearly frustrated and disappointed.


Just then, three servers arrived with two large oval serving trays containing several steaming platters and placed them on collapsible serving stands on the unoccupied side of the table. They were each given a main plate and two side plates off to the right side. One of the waiters refreshed the oil and vinegar on their bread plates, while another picked up old napkins and provided fresh linen.

Patrick turned and smiled at the servers and then to the waiter and said, “Serve the lady a goodly portion from that platter,” pointing to the largest on the serving tray, “and then surprise us all with your best suggestions for our first course.”

He then placed his hand on both Frederick’s and Agnes’s wrists and shook them slightly, “Bon appetite! My friends.”

December 3, 2011

Heating Up, Again

There she was, sitting in the specified booth looking very much self-absorbed. I walked in and stood at the end of the table until she looked up, and said, “Hello.”

I slid into the opposite seat and recognized the printed list. I also recognized that same tank top, affording me that same delicious view.

“I see you’ve brought the list.”

She smiled nervously, “Yes.”

Reflexively she reached into her purse for a pack of cigarettes. I caught her hand, and took the pack from her, holding it in the air, twisting and turning, slowly, in the space between us.

“Again?”

December 1, 2011

Tempering the Heat

I checked my email Saturday night; there was nothing from the mystery girl. I wasn’t surprised or particularly concerned, I suspected she’d default on the timing of the assignment, either out of reticence or because of the complexity.

I busied myself with weekend chores, had dinner with friends and got to bed early Sunday night in anticipation of a long hard week ahead. I checked my mail again on Sunday morning, still nothing - mid-day nothing, even Sunday night, nothing. It tickled me, imagining her mental gymnastics.

I checked again Monday morning, there it was, “Possible Improvements”, with an apology.

October 28, 2011

Batgurl - Flash Fiction Friday

(Source image: "Battire" by Gernot)
Nickie arrived at the party and quickly moved through the crowd, accepting the obligatory greetings. There was no recognition, just kissed cheeks and hugs given anonymously with a sweet smile and soft giggle.  A quickly grabbed drink and it was off to the tenebrous balcony.

On the balcony Nickie relaxed, fussing at the stockings, removing the cloak, adjusting the arm-wing stockings. After the costume adjusting and tucking Nickie looked inside and saw that Mark had arrived and was working through the crowd toward the balcony. Nickie leaned back against the pillar, stretched out, seductively lithe, sharply pointed toes, fingers outstretched.

Mark had seen Nick in stockings before but the recently acquired implants would make this dark spooky encounter freakishly erotic.



The Happy Halloween challenge is to use the picture above to write a spooky flash fiction of 80-120 words. I would also like you to please use this H.P. Lovecraft word in your submission: "...tenebrous..."

October 21, 2011

Red - Flash Fiction Friday

(Source image: unknown title by
Beau Monde; website link broken)

Like so many times before, she sat intent on his voice, "Ten." All tangled up in herself, legs clenched, “Nine.” Breasts squeezed tightly, wrapped in the deepness of his voice, "Eight." Her stomach in a knot, cramping, “Seven.”
38 
Growling, tossing the headphones aside, still hearing his commands, “Six.” His voice taunting her, hyper-attuned, each breath twisting her arousal tighter, “Five.” Fire burning, hot, damp, nipples throbbing, aching, “Four.” 
68
Yanking the headphone jack out, still hearing, “Three.” Her fingers plugging her ears, shaking her head, ”Two.” Her legs twisted, burning thighs, suddenly in pained delight, ready, “One.” Then, “Now!!”
98


Your challenge is to use the picture to write a flash fiction of 38-98 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission: "...pained delight..."

Click here for FFF Details

September 16, 2011

Gypsy Girl - Flash Fiction Friday

She was a hot blooded gypsy girl in a full skirt and peasant blouse, with an ample load of breasts and dark perky nipples.

Kissing her roughly, I walked her back against the counter. Working my knee in I spread her thighs open, kissing down her neck and shoulder. I could feel her damp heat on my leg as I laid her back onto the counter, wide open and panting in the heat of the moment.

Lifting her knees, her skirt slid up even further. I slipping down to my knees, hooking her legs over my shoulders. Pressing my mouth against her innermost thigh, I heard the mixed cries of ecstasy and anguish as I bit into her femoral artery and began to feed.


Click for details on FFF

The challenge for this Friday is to write a flash fiction of exactly 124 words, incorporating the required word, "load".

September 14, 2011

Blithely Sauntering

The Consensual Stalker

He had known it was her habit to spend Friday mornings on a number of errands, generally wrapping a half days worth of activities into one outing. There was the early morning or noon-time yoga class, or a nice quiet coffee shoppe with excellent java and free wifi, or occasionally, just wandering the streets shopping, mostly for clothing, retail therapy she called it. Today was early yoga, and then coffee and a muffin, and now, she was slowly sauntered down the street, peeking in store windows, almost dreamy looking. She had a bounce to her step, occasionally moving to the beat of the music from her ever-present clip-on iPod Shuffle, he imagined.

She half concentrated on the stores but was periodically preoccupied with her phone, either texting or tweeting, but not talking. At times she’d stop and lean against a store front, rapt attention on the small screen, and suddenly burst out laughing, and then look around, self conscious. She wondered if people were looking at her, hoping they might be, and that they might be wondering what she found so laughable.

The day had started when he followed her from her home, across town, and out to the yoga parlor. After she parked and went inside, he went to the cafe across the street, found a window table and had a light breakfast and coffee. Then he leaned back, listened to his book, and waited. As she left the yoga class, he noticed she had changed into the lovely shape hugging, lightweight pink sheath dress, perfect for pulling off and on while shopping. He hoped so, he was looking forward to the idea of a day of watching her pop in and out of stores, knowing how dearly she loved her shopping excursions. He smiled in anticipation of a joyful day of observation, perhaps some embarrassment, a little humiliation and pleasure, certainly a bit of sexuality and excitement.

He watched her come across the street, walk into the cafe, and order coffee and a giant chocolate muffin. She went and sat at a table in the back seating area, waiting for the server to deliver her heated muffin.

He was positioned where he could see her reflection in the window while he appeared to be looking out onto the street. She pulled out her little laptop computer and busied herself with the Internet. The muffin arrived and she divided her time between eating and something on the computer. She busied herself with typing and he wondered if she was writing another story for her blog, she seemed more engaged than simple email or messaging.

After eating her muffin, and drinking a second cup of coffee, she packed her things, got up and headed out to the parking area beside the yoga parlor and got into her car. He got up, walked out after her, climbing into his large black sedan parked at the curb. He started the engine and waited to follow her when she pulled out. As she pulled out, he made a wide U-turn and settled in behind her, heading back toward the downtown shopping area. She looked in her rear view mirror periodically but of course wouldn’t recognize his car, having only seen it the once before, long ago. And that was only a slight image in her rear view mirror at the building supply store.

He followed her back into the downtown area where she pulled into a parking garage. He drove past the parking structure entrance to the end of the block and made another U-turn. He found a parking space beside the parking garage she had pulled into. He remained in the car as she walked out of the garage and headed toward the boulevard shops. After she passed by he got out of the car, crossed the street and took position in the doorway to an office building. From there he watched her as she slowly sauntered down the street, glancing in store windows. When she was half way down the block he opened his Blackberry and sent a text message, “How are you today? Out shopping?”

She replied, “Yes, just started. Went to yoga, then breakfast. Now I’m shopping, you?”

“Yes, I am out today too, enjoying the scenery.”

Reflexively she looked around but in the dark shadows of the doorway, looking through two panes of storefront glass it was unlikely she’d see him.

He sent back a text, “Enjoy your shopping. Buy yourself something nice. Hugs.”

He received her response, “Thanks. Hugs back.”

She put her phone back into her purse and resumed looking at shop windows. He stepped out of the shadows and walked down the sidewalk to the next corner. He leaned against the light pole and watched her as she went from store to store. From time to time she would do a little shuffle dance step or two, clearly enjoying her music. She had always preferred the little Shuffle in lieu of the MP3 player built into her phone, ‘it is so small and cute and easy, the phone is so bulky.’


He decided to give this some more time. He walked further down the street and went into the fountain shop. He got an iced tea, selecting a seat at one of the small window side tables. Sometimes she would pause and look over all the items on display, at other stores she would just slow slightly and glance at the window as she passed by. However, at every clothing store she would thoroughly examine the windows offerings and usually head inside.

After nearly an hour had passed, he pulled out his Blackberry again and composed a text. “Still out shopping? Did you buy anything interesting?”

“Yes still shopping but haven’t found anything I want yet.”

“What did you decide to wear today?”

“Sweat suit earlier, for yoga. Warmer now, changed to a dress, simple sheath, easy to pull off or up in a dressing room.”

“What else?”

“Simple strap sandals.”

“Yes? What else?”

There was a long pause and then, no response. He smiled to himself, imagining, wondering if she was busy with something and not able to reply immediately, or if, more likely, she was reluctant to respond any further. As he sat there looking at the screen, waiting for a response, his attention was captured by movement across the street. He looked up and saw her coming out of the dress shop, phone in her hand, looking around.

Grinning, he typed again, “What else!”

She stared at the phone, looked left and then right, and then back at the phone, and tapped a reply, “panties”.

Even from a distance across the street he could see that she had not worn a bra, but asked anyway, “Panties and a bra?”

Again, she was reluctant to respond, but eventually said, “no, just panties, no bra.”

“Which panties?”

“The white gauzy boy shorts.”

He felt a tingle in his palms from the tactile memory of those white gauze boy shorts, his fingers flexed involuntarily.

“Mmm, my favorite, very nice.”

Again, she looked around. Clearly it seemed that she sensed from his text messages that he might be around, nearby. He was sure that she would not be able to see him through the tinted window of the fountain. As she stood there looking up and down the street he texted back, “Enjoy your shopping, I am sure you are drawing some very appreciative attention.”

Her curt response came back, “No. I’m not.”

“Well, I need to be on my way. Have a good afternoon sweetheart.”

Again, a short, matter of fact reply, “Okay, good bye. I am nearly done and will be heading home.”

“Bye bye.”


She dropped the phone down into her bag and headed down the street and disappeared into another shop.

He got up, refilled his glass and returned to his seat. It was a bright sunny day with a slight breeze and temperatures probably in the low 80’s, a perfect day to sit with a rich sweet tea and watch the world passing by. There was a lot of activity, a lot of shoppers and window shoppers out this morning. Everyone as dressed for a warm fall day, surely glad that the oppressive heat of summer was passing and autumn was on the way.

He looked at the time and was beginning to wonder if he had lost track of her. Perhaps she had left or moved on while he was refilling his tea, or when he’d gone to the restroom. He was considering sending another text message when suddenly she emerged from the original store with a heavily loaded shopping bag. She was headed back toward the parking garage. It seemed that her shopping adventure had borne fruit and was over. He dropped a tip on the table and stepped out onto the street. He followed her along on a parallel route from the opposite side of the street.

When she turned into the parking garage, he dodged between traffic and ran across the street. He did not want to lose track of her in the dark maze of stairs, parking levels and myriad cars. When he entered the structure she was just turning around the corner of the staircase to the second level. He entered the stairwell and followed.

As he got to the second floor landing he heard her above him opening the door to the third level. He paused a moment and then ran up the final flight of stairs. He twisted the door knob slowly, silently and opened it just slightly but could not see her, or anyone. He stuck his head out through the door and looked to the left, deeper into the structure and saw her walking down the aisle toward a bank of cars on the right side of the drive. He stepped out, crossed the driveway and proceeded along the bank of cars and saw her turn in beside her own. He was about a dozen cars away and needed to catch up before she got in.

From one car away, across a vacant parking stall, he saw that she was fumbling with her hand bag, the shopping bag and her keys unlocking the backseat door. As she put her bags into the back seat and slide the door closed he stepped up behind her.

He took hold of her upper left arm and grabbed the back of her neck, pushing her hard up against the side of the car. Leaning in close he spoke into her ear, “Be still” but she continued to struggle against his grip. Looking closer, he let go her left arm, pressed her against the car with his body and reached up and pulled the ear-bud out if her ear and repeated, “Be still.” She seemed to recognize his voice and calmed down, relaxing the fight-or-flight tension in her arms and legs and torso.

Continuing to hold tightly onto the back of her neck he reached around and pulled the ear-bud from her right ear as well. He ran his free hand along the side of her hip and upper thigh and felt the memory. He moved his hand down further and grabbed the material of the dress and struggled to pull it up.

After he got the hem of her dress up around her waist, he let go the material and moved his hand up to her breast. He cupped his hand up under her left breast and felt her warm softness contrasted by the stiff hardening of her nipple. Rolling it back and forth with his thumb and the side of his finger brought a soft murmur and groan, and even greater stiffness. He pinched down harder and twisted, and felt her body tense, and wilt slightly. He loved the warm feel of her body squirming against his.

He let go her nipple and took hold of her left wrist. He guided her hand down across her front, across her stomach and pushed it inside the elastic of her panties, then deeper down. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Touch.”

He felt her hand moving, “Just touch, no rubbing. Curl your middle finger down and under.”

Still holding her wrist, he felt her fingers move. He deepened his voice even further, “Press with your finger, wiggle slightly, up and down. No friction. A very subtle movement.”

He could feel the tension in her stomach as she worked her finger slowly up and down. She was groaning and shifting and rocking in a thrusting motion.

Deep into her ear he said, “Restrain yourself, slow and easy.”

But she continued working her fingers, pushing her skin back and stroking lightly back and forth. She began spasmed repeatedly, like she was receiving little electrical shocks. Suddenly she was grunting and folding over at the waist, jerking and quivering.

He let go her neck and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his body tightly and they both shook with her spasms. Eventually her breathing slowed and her tension relaxed.

He opened the door and nearly poured her into the drivers seat. She collapsed into the seat and leaned her head back against the head rest, eyes closed, seemingly ready to drop off to sleep.

He rolled the window down and closed the door, then leaned in through the opening. A slight smile spread across her face. He reached in and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulled her head forward and gave her a long, deep kiss. Their tongues touched, teased each other and then he withdrew.

He ran his fingers through her hair and whispered, “Have a good afternoon sweet girl,” and turned and walked toward the stairwell.

May 2, 2011

Frederick - Shopping

Continued from here

It was still just early morning but Frederick pulled his boots out of the closet to polish them for the evening. He also checked his pants and shirts to be sure everything was back from the cleaners and fresh. Tonight he would dress up and take Agnes out on the town for dinner and then some entertainment. He collected the boot black and cloths and water. He gathered some old newspapers to spread out to minimize the mess and protect his documents. He set up his work space and his mind began ruminating over his involvement with Agnes over the past couple of months.

While working on the boots he glanced over his journal notes for several of their “dates”. And he did consider them dates. It was an interesting courtship if that is what it was. Most of his relationships had been intense from the very start for an extended period of time, but he felt very much like he was courting Agnes, slow and deliberate, methodical and filled with feints within feints. She was so much younger and unfamiliar with his more mature and formal style. So he always felt he was presenting himself and she needed to be reminded on a regular basis of the structure of their relationship. He knew she was playing coy with him at times and teasing along, two steps forward, one step back, or to the side. He did not think they were deliberate ploys but maybe deflections borne from uncertainty.

He loved the sensuality of rubbing and working boot cream into the deep black leather, making swirls, building up depth and thickness. He worked meticulously, being sure to get the cream up under the various buckles. Once he finished working the cream into the leather he would let it sit so the leather would absorb the moisturizing cream. Later he would buff off the patina and add layers of warm soft wax.


He recalled a couple weeks ago, while walking down the street Agnes had been captivated by the dress and women’s wear shops, stopping and looking in all the windows. She stared in ecstatic wonder at the treasures in the shop windows. ‘Window shopping’ she called it but Frederick felt differently about it. In his mind, if you were going shopping you decided what you were looking for and went to a shop that would offer what you wanted and bought it. He recognized that his more direct approach was considerably different than hers. He was not sure whether it was really their different ages and life experiences, or if it was just a fundamental difference. The results of their shopping trip that afternoon helped to resolve the contradiction in his mind.

Frederick began making note of the particular clothing styles that seemed to catch her interest. When they came to the street corner he grabbed Agnes’s elbow and turned her to the right to cross the street, even though she had just then been turning the corner to go left. She followed along passively looking back over her shoulder, perhaps thinking about what she might have missed rather than really watching where they were going. A few doors down Frederick turned her into the entrance to a particular shop. Agnes turned to him and smiled, “Oh, look at the lovely dresses in these windows. I really do like the looks of these.”

Frederick smiled to himself, happy that he had interpreted her window shopping correctly. “Shall we go in and have a look around?”

“Oh, yes, I would like that. Yes, please.”

They walked past the foyer windows and on into the shop. They were greeted by two young sales girls and one of them addressed Frederick. “Good afternoon Sir. It is very nice to see you again. It has been a long while since you have been in.” They were both beaming, and Frederick could feel the slightest tug on his arm as Agnes recoiled back just a bit.

“Good afternoon ladies, I am happy to see you again. We are on a mission today to find the perfect dress. A dress to be worn to a very special dinner and night on the town; a dress that will show this lovely girl in all of her splendor. This is Agnes and I would appreciate you showing her your best offerings. Make no assumptions and show her a number of choices. Stir her imagination and find something to accentuate her beauty.”

The two girls smiled enthusiastically, came forward and each took hold of one of Agnes’s elbows and led her toward the racks. Agnes cast a questioning glance back at Frederick and he smiled, nodding his head in approval, encouraging her with a gesture to go ahead with the girls and see what they produced. Frederick followed along to the open space near the changing rooms and said, “I will sit here and enjoy the show. When you find a few appropriate dresses, Agnes can go and try them on and let me see how they look on her.”

Frederick found a leather wing backed chair and settled himself down. The three girls had gone off into the racks of clothing and he could just barely hear their titters now and then, punctuated by the occasional giggle or burst of laughter. After a few minutes they emerged from the racks and each of the girls were carrying several dresses and skirt/jacket outfits. Agnes followed along behind and as the girls stood in front of Frederick she stepped up and said, “Which of these do you like?”

“On the hangers they are just colorful pieces of cloth and I can’t decide anything other than perhaps I might favor a color or general cut. I need you to give them shape and life, show me how they take form when you put them on. Take them into the dressing room and try them on. If you like how they feel on you and look in the changing mirror, then come out and show me.”

“Which ones should I take?”

“Take all of them.”

And with that, the girls headed off toward the changing rooms with their collections. Agnes held back and looked at Frederick. Frederick smiled at her and gestured for her to “go, go, go on go” and she reluctantly followed along and disappeared into the dressing room maze. Once again there was the occasional giggle and laughter. Shortly, Agnes came out wearing a very nice floral patterned summer dress and stood in front of Frederick, hands crossed in front of herself, very tentative. Frederick noticed she had no shoes on and said, “Stand on the balls of your feet, as if you had on a pair of heels. Turn around and show off the dress.”

Agnes got up on her toes and took several steps and turned in a small circle, making the skirt of the dress billow and flow out. Quickly she seemed to lighten up and brighten up and fell into the playfulness of a little girl in a pretty new dress. After two circles and a slight spin, she stopped again in front of Frederick and said, “What do you think?”

“It is a very pretty dress but I am sure there are many more to try on and model. Set this one aside on a ‘possible’ hook and pick another for me to see. Later we will trim down the possibles.” Agnes grinned and disappeared back into the dressing room.

In a couple of minutes she came back out wearing another dress, similar to the first but in a bright solid color, not a floral pattern. One of the sales girls came out with her and walked over and stood beside Frederick’s chair. Frederick gestured up with the palm of his hand (up on your toes) and then spun his finger around (spin around and show me), and Agnes moved as instructed. Once again she finished, standing in front of Frederick with the obvious question on her face. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. She nodded her agreement and headed back to the dressing room.

The sales girl knelt down beside Frederick, put her hand on his forearm on the arm of the chair. Leaning in, she whispered, “She is a very pretty girl Sir, with a lovely figure. It is easy to see why you fancy her.”

“Thank you Camille. I agree completely. She is new to Paris and in need of a friend. I am happy to befriend her and help her in any way that I can.”

Camille chuckled as she stood up to head back to the dressing room, “Yes, of course Sir. Your friendship is very generous and appreciated, I am sure.”

She gave him a wry smile and disappeared behind the curtain.

Again there was much laughter and giggling from the changing room area and Frederick began to wonder if they had become derailed from the dressing process. Then finally there was quiet and a couple minutes later Agnes emerged again.

This time she was wearing a blazer and skirt combination. It seemed particularly provocative because she had no blouse on under the buttoned up jacket. The outfit was even more appealing because of the way her calves were accentuated by the tip-toeing and the skirt was mid thigh, with broad pleats. It was a medium charcoal gray that went nicely with the dark blue of the blazer; very classic looking. Agnes did her tip toe, spin around, flare and twirl showoff routine and landed fore-square in front of Frederick again smiling broadly.

He looked the outfit up and down and with a broad smile, nodded his approval. Agnes smiled back and turned and ran back into the changing room and there was the familiar giggling again.

Over the next half hour Agnes came and went several times with a variety of different styles and shapes and colors. Frederick made a mental note of a couple of his favorites and was keeping track of the ones that Agnes said she liked as well.

Finally, Agnes came out in a little black dress that immediately caught Frederick’s attention. It was shaped in a way that highlighted all of the strong features of Agnes’s figure. It had a nice trim waist, slightly flared at the hips, three quarter sleeves and high neck line but with a slit that exposed a good deal of cleavage in a provocative and immodest way. The length was shorter than many of the others, showing not only her lovely calves but the musculature of the backs of her thighs. Frederick was particularly fond of Agnes’s legs, not too thin, muscular and strong without being bulky, ‘swimmers legs’ was the description he had heard that seemed perfect to him. The dress was immediately slotted at the top of his favorites list.

After Agnes modeled the little black dress she stood before him with a sad face and said, “I have run out of selections to show you.”

“Have you found something that appeals to you?”

“Oh, yes, I have, yes.”

“Why don’t you go back and change into your own dress and send Darlene out here. Camille can help you change and gather your things.”

Agnes disappeared and Darlene emerged. “Darlene, please hang everything we have tried on today on a small rack and bring it back out here. Also, discreetly gather her measurements and sizes for lingerie.Thank you.”

Darlene walked over close to Frederick and squatted down in front of him and spoke softly.

“Certainly, Mr. Frederick. It is wonderful to see you again. It has been a long time. I have missed you.”

He reached out and took hold of her hand and pulled her up, “It is good to see you too, Darlene.”

They smiled warmly at each other, she rose and turned and went back to the changing room.

When Agnes came back out she was in her old summer dress and sandals. She was accompanied by Camille. Darlene came out behind them with the rack and placed it in the middle of the floor. Frederick stood up and walked over to Agnes, took her hand and led her over to the rack. “Do you have a favorite among all of these?”

Agnes looked them over, reached out and touched one and said, “Yes, I do, this one.”

“That is a very nice dress, I like that one too.” He pulled the skirt and blazer out a bit and asked, “How about this?”

“Yes, I like that too, but think I prefer this other dress.”

Frederick reached into the rack again and pulled out the little black dress, “And this one?”

Agnes looked confused by his questioning, her smile was gone and she seemed to tense up, “That is nice too, but I really do like this one.” Again, indicating her first choice.

Frederick stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to his side, “It is okay, I am not trying to change your mind or make you pick something you don’t want.”

He could see her visibly relax again. He pulled her even closer so she was standing side by side against him with his hand on the back of her neck. Frederick turned to the two girls and said, “We will take these three, the two dresses and the blazer outfit.”

Agnes pulled away a bit and said, “I can’t afford these dresses, Frederick. The one dress is within my range, but there is no way I can get all three of these outfits.”

“It is a treat from me Agnes. I brought you into this store and it is what I wanted to do. I also know your birthday is coming up very soon and so this is an early gift for you.”

Agnes threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Oh Frederick, thank you so much, but this is too much. These dresses are expensive. I can’t let you do this.”

Frederick smiled down at her and said, “You are very welcome and it is not a matter of you letting me do this or not. It is what I am doing. These will be nice additions to your wardrobe and will inspire me to find opportunities to show you off. I will be challenged to find outings which will befit you and these lovely outfits.”

Agnes hugged him tightly again and said softly, “Thank you so much Frederick. You are so good to me. I am a lucky girl, thank you.”

Frederick gestured to Camille to pull out and package up the three selections. He untangled himself from Agnes and said, “Agnes, go with Darlene, I think there are a couple more things that you will need to compliment these dresses. She knows what is needed and will help you.”


Frederick smiled at the recollection. it had been a fun afternoon; a great outing. He picked up one of his boots and pushed the shoe stretcher down into the toe, locked it in place and did the same with the other boot. With the leather stretched and formed he started vigorously brushing off the patina of the cream in preparation for applying the wax.

When he finished buffing the boots he picked up the bottles and cans and papers and tidied his desk. He set the boots in the sun to warm them in preparation for applying the wax. Looking at the time, he walked over and picked up the phone and called to make reservations for the evening.

Agnes reflects on the shopping trip

March 10, 2011

a naughty kiss, or two

I was telling you, I dreamed of a very naughty kiss
 about kneeling over you, on hands and knees
leaning down, covering your mouth
 teasing you to rise up for more
rocking to and fro on my knees
 (lots of tongue)

. . . dangling kisses

leaning forward, toward your forehead,
 enticing your head and lips to follow,
turning my head left, and then right, yours following
 then leaning back on my haunches, away from your mouth

sucking and nibbling on your breasts and nipples,
 taking them in my teeth and pulling back even further,

and then the dream spins off in two different directions,

1)
turning you over, onto your stomach,
 your arms behind you, wrists crossed in the small of your back,
held in place by one of my hands, lifting them,
 bending at the elbows

the other hand guiding, and opening your cheeks,
 and slowly, deliberately taking you,
with my knees still positioned outside your thighs,
 keeping your cheeks, tight and snug,
and then putting my hand on the side of your head,
 pushing your face down into the pillows,
leaning forward again, mouth to your ear,
 breathing hot air, and hot words, through my fingers,

my feet hooked over the backs of your knees, providing leverage
 as I deliberately and steadily pound into you,
mouth to your ear, telling you, how much I love you,
 how much I love taking you, how much I love you under me, this way.

and then, another way,

2)
to be saved for another time, another venue . . .
 a chance to tell you,
and watch you, how you react,
 see you, hear you . . .

January 3, 2011

Frederick - at Home

Continued from the Nightcap . . .

It was a quiet and dreamy walk from the bar to his apartment. Agnes was hanging onto his arm and leaned against his shoulder, and he was unable to walk at his customary pace. It irritated him a bit but he realized she was probably a little tipsy and lost in her own thoughts to be hurried along. She had clearly been dazzled by the time in the bar, the brandy and the people, the music and the goings on; it was obviously something very new and different for her. Truth be told he was a little over tired and full of the effects of drink himself. He was delighted to have had the opportunity to expose her to a yet another aspect of her new life here in Paris. It was something he intended to continue.

Fortunately, his apartment was only a couple blocks away and took just minutes to reach. When they turned into the building, he slowly followed her up the stairs. He became transfixed with the view of her back side and legs moving slowly up the flights of stairs. When she had been at his apartment the last time he had enjoying the look of her trim ankles, the shape of her calves, and musculature of the backs of her thighs, but this time she had worn an even shorter skirt. He was pleasantly surprised to notice the bikini style panties she was wearing. For some reason he had imagined she would wear much more modest full briefs.

Suddenly they were at the top of the stairs and he nearly ran her over as she stopped, indecisive about where to go. He told her to turn left and follow the hallway, which she did, but she turned down the hallway and walked right out the hallway door onto the balcony, completely missing the apartment door. He reached out and took her arm and pulled her back into the hallway and opened the door to the apartment and led her in. He closed and locked the door, and took her sweater, hanging it on the coat tree.

“Would you like some hot cocoa?” She said she would like that, but that she really needed to use the bathroom. He showed her where it was and turned on the light for her. She closed the door and he went to the kitchen area and busied himself with preparing the milk for the cocoa, getting out the cups and took down a small tray for some chocolates. He hoped that now that they were settled in his apartment she would regain her composure and not be so flighty.

After he had started the milk and gathered the plates and cups he realized she was still in the bathroom and wondered if she had fallen asleep. He leaned in through the doorway to his bedroom and noticed that the attached door to the bath that he always kept shut was ajar. He grinned to himself, imagining that she had seen the other door, peeked through and realized it led into his bedroom. He wondered what was taking her so long.

He returned to check on the milk and just then she came out of the bathroom and asked if she might help? “No, just make yourself comfortable,” and he gestured to the sitting area by the picture window. She walked over and stood in front of the window, looking out at the view of the city. After a couple minutes he noticed she had sat down at the end of one of the couches and was looking over the magazines and books on the table in front of her.

“You have a lot of architectural magazines here, and landscaping gazettes as well. I thought you had said you worked with financial matters?”

“Yes, I do, but landscaping and how it fits with architecture has always been an interest of mine. Tomorrow, or another day, I will show you the courtyard. I have made a deal with the landlord and I have done a complete landscape design. It is a wonderfully vibrant and luscious space, if I do say so myself. I know you will enjoy it.”

“I will look forward to that very much Frederick. You continue to amaze me.”

As he had the preparations underway he walked to the desk on the wall next to the window and tapped out some instructions on a computer. She asked what he was doing but he dismissed her question with an off handed remark about checking some market points. He moved from the desk and sat directly across from her on the opposite couch.

As he settled into his seat he again noticed how short her skirt was, how it had ridden up her legs as she sat on the couch, and his attention was once again drawn to her lovely legs. He noticed her relaxed posture as she leaned forward to look at the magazines, probably not realizing how revealing her posture was, giving him a view of most of her thighs and glimpses through the opening at the front of her blouse. She was a wonderfully attractive young girl, a simple but charming and pretty girl.

She asked, “Is there something wrong?” “No, not at all.“ he said. He realizing he had indeed been staring and she’d ‘caught’ him off guard, appreciating her body and ruminating in his thoughts. Covering up his embarrassment, he said, “The milk is ready. Would you like some chocolates and a little brandy as well?”

He did not wait for an answer as he got up and went to the kitchen and made the cocoa. He retrieved the chocolates and puts them on the tray. He brought the serving platter to the table, placed it between them and returned to his seat across the table. He moved a cup of cocoa in front of her and set a small snifter of brandy down next to it. He pointed out the platter of chocolate, “Help yourself.” As she was blowing and sipping at the hot cocoa, he again found himself staring at her, and looking her over very thoroughly, liking her demure personality.

He pulled his attention away reluctantly and made a comment about the view out the window. She looked out also, and he launched into an exposition of some of the special sites that could be seen from just where they sat. He demonstrated his awareness and knowledge of architecture, commenting on the different styles and periods of a number of the buildings he was pointing out.

Realizing that his cup was empty, he collected the two mugs to go pour more cocoa. Just as he got up, there was a beeping sound from the computer on the desk. He stopped at the desk and attended to the computer for a couple minutes before heading to the kitchen. When he returned with the cups he saw that Agnes has dozed off. He spoke to her and she stirred herself awake and took the mug. They continued talking about Paris as he explored what she had and had not seen or done so far.

After a few minutes, there was signalling from the computer and he excused himself. When he returned, Agnes had fallen asleep on the couch again, leaning herself against the wingback and armrest. He went and retrieved a couple of pillows and a comforter. He repositioned her so she was laying down more naturally and covered her. He sat back down and sipped on his brandy and watched her sleep for a while. He watched her slow deep breathing as her chest heaved and sighed. She made soft noises, nearly snoring. Frederick was glad she was comfortable with him enough to have spent the evening and to now be sleeping so well on his couch. He pondered where he was going to go with this girl that he found so appealing.

He continued looked out the window over the city, and eventually went and cleaned up from the cocoa and treats, and put everything away. When he came back and checked on Agnes, she was still soundly asleep and he decided to lay down and sleep himself. Rather than undressing and going to bed, he stretched out on the day bed in the alcove where he could keep an eye on her and look out the window into the dark night. Nearly immediately, he drifted off to sleep.


He awoke to the soft light of dawn and he found himself partially covered with the comforter he'd given to Agnes. He realized she was curled up next to him, with her head on his shoulder. Her presence next to him made him smile. It felt good and he was pleased things seemed to be advancing well. He adjusted the comforter over the both of them and drifted off back to sleep again.

When he woke up again, she was still cuddled up next to him, sleeping soundly. He looked at the clock and seeing it was 7:30, extricated himself and got up. As he started his morning routine he realized it was Friday and wondered if Agnes was supposed to be working. He looked at the time again and as it was not yet 8:00 AM, he decided there was still a little time before he needed to make a decision. His mind waffled between being responsible and a desire to keep her around for the day and enjoy her company further.

He put on a pot of coffee and went and changed out of his slacks and shirt from the night before into a pair of light linen pants and a long sleeved cotton pull over. As the coffee was finishing, he stepped out onto the balcony to relish the fresh crisp morning air, hoping it would help clear his brandy addled brain a little. As he stood savoring the fresh air of the morning mixed with the scent of coffee brewing he heard the sounds of the springs of the bed in the alcove. He stepped in and saw that Agnes was not awake yet, but had tossed and turned onto her side facing the edge of the bed. He looked at the clock and decided it was time to wake her.

He filled two cups and brought them into the alcove and set them on the side table. He seated himself on the side of the bed. The movement of his weight seemed to awaken Agnes a bit, she stirred and moved herself to the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around his knee and thigh, pulling herself in tight against his leg. He reached up and pushed her hair back off her face, put his hand on her cheek, and said, “Good morning.” She simply smiled back at him, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand.

“I assume you are supposed to work today; it is Friday. I will bring the phone so you can call the shop and let them know you are not going to be in to work today. It is 8:30 now, what time should you call?”

“I do not work until 10 o’clock and so any time soon will be fine, but what am I going to tell them, I am not ill and have no excuse?”

“Tell them you have a day of instruction ahead, and will be back fresh and renewed on Monday. Or, tell them you have been kidnapped and are being held captive by a benevolent friend, or fiend. I am sure they will not make much of a fuss, they know you are a reliable and diligent girl. It is just that you will spend the day under my guidance and I will test your diligence.” He noticed the quizzical look on her face and wondered if she had any idea what he might have in store for her, surely not.

He went and got the phone, and Agnes took a big drink of the coffee. He handed her the phone and sat back down. She repositioned herself back against the side of his leg and dialed the phone. She had a brief conversation excusing herself from work. She assured the photographer that she was fine, just not feeling up to par and should be back at work the next day. She thanked him for his understanding and clicked off of the call.

She looked up at Frederick, “Okay.”

He smiled down at her, took the phone and set it on the side table. As they sipped at their coffee he moved his hand under the comforter and placed it on the side of Agnes’s leg, then moved it a little ways up the back of her thigh.

Frederick wondered how Agnes was feeling this morning . . .


December 24, 2010

Christmas Eve - Friday Flash Fiction

(Artwork is from a 70s Playboy cover by Haddon Sundblom,
who is rather more well known for his other Christmas art)
She was being an insufferable imp. I regretted having invited her to help wrap gifts for the family. Every time I turned around she was unwrapping a gift I had just wrapped. “Stop it!! Why are you doing this?” All she said was, "They’re not wrapped right,“ and sashayed out of the room. When she returned she had another mug of brandied eggnog.

She looked god-awful cute in her Santa's helpers outfit; high black boots, red skirt, wide black belt and gold buckle, and button-up red shirt with fluffy cuffs. It was topped off with a Santa's hat and her silky blond hair cascading over her shoulders. She had a brandy-laced grin plastered on her face. But even with all that, I was losing my patience and self-control.

My young distant cousin was testing my resolve, even the threat of a spanking was met by her flipping up her skirt, flashing red satin bikinis, and a sassy wiggle of her fanny. Frustrated, I finally backed her into the corner and barked, “This game is over!” Her response was a broad beaming smile as she unbuttoned her Santa shirt, unwrapping a gift that I would gladly re-wrap later.

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(Use the supplied artwork to write a flash fiction of 121-199 words, incorporating the phrase "...unwrapping a gift...")

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