Another Time - Another Place

[DriveSouth]

Jaleena stopped. Something was happening she could not explain. A shimmering light filled the room and seemed to move – deep within.

A woman – as lovely as any that had been in the chamber last night glided from the shimmer. Jaleena’s stood, silent, wanting to see it all – awed by the sight.

Singha gasped as the odd shimmery light that had suddenly materialized in his chamber yielded a vision – a Goddess.

Only a deity could perform such a feat. Singha thought and quickly bowed at her feet. His ignorance out weighed only my by his submission –

“Come” abruptly he motioned toward the darkened hidden entrance, Jaleena jumped, unaware she’d been seen.

Timidly she stepped into the light. “A gift – from your servant.”

 

[ranajja]

Dr. Fellhardt

Suzanna was surprised when the sultan knelt before her—surprised, and thrilled. But what happened next was unexpected. Jaleena had been sent to her quarters for the evening, or so the good doctor thought. But as she watched Jaleena emerge from the shadows, the memory of Jaleena’s training flashed across Suzanna’s mind…

Suzanna’s smile never faltered as she struggled to remain composed, but her nipples betrayed her. Hard points the color of chocolate kisses ached to be touched, kissed…

She’d never been so aroused before. They knelt before her, sultan and slave, ready to serve her, to fulfill her every wish, to indulge her every whim. He thinks I’m a goddess, she thought, and Jaleena is my…gift.

“Look at me, great sultan,” she said huskily, and felt gooseflesh prickle her skin as his eyes travelled slowly up her nude form. “Your gift…pleases me,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. She almost swooned as his eyes darkened with desire, but forced herself to remain still, serene.

She knew she made an alluring picture, smooth skin, long auburn locks, and curves in all the right places.

She tore her eyes from his and looked at Jaleena, seeing dots of color on her cheeks. Jaleena’s desire was also evident as Suzanna noted her hardened nipples on her sweet breasts.

“I know that you have trained her in the arts of pleasure,” Suzanna said softly, looking back at the sultan. “Show me what she has learned.”

 

[DriveSouth]

Never lifting his eyes to look upon the goddess - Singha's head turned to face Jaleena.

Jaleena - a witness to her surreal entrance. The sultan’s subtle head motion signaled that she should follow the traveler’s instruction. Jaleena stepped to the naked goddess and fell at her feet. Jaleena shyly reached for her bare foot. From there Jaleena’s fingers traced the curves of her body – calves, thighs, hips, waist – till finally Jaleena stood before her, soft breast in each hand wanting approval.

 

[ranajja]

Jaleena’s gentle touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure across Suzanna’s skin. First, the arch of her foot, travelling ever upward, calves, thighs, hips…Suzanna inhaled slowly, feeling her breasts rise, nipples hardening, aching to be caressed, kissed…

Suzanna watched as the sultan dropped to his knees, eyes lowered before her. A low growl rumbled in her throat, feeling the gentle strokes of Jaleena’s fingertips, with maddening slowness, and she thought, I want to feel his eyes…

“Look at me,” she said, huskily. Her breath caught as he raised his eyes to her, dark and glittering with desire. Then Jaleena’s caresses moved to Suzanna’s breasts…and paused, waiting for permission to continue…

Time stood agonizingly still as she held his eyes…and held her breath, oh, so ready to surrender to the arousal racing through her, the tingling in her loins was almost unbearable.

Then…an almost imperceptible nod…and Suzanna felt the soft sweetness of Jaleena’s lips on her nipple, heard the wet sounds of suckling. First one nipple, then the other, nibbling, suckling, teasing them to full hardness. Suzanna squeezed her thighs together, feeling the heat in that spot...

Another gesture from the sultan, and soft strains of music, slow, sultry, intertwined with the increasing sounds of sex.

 

[DriveSouth]

Mere mortal or deity – Singha knew lust when he gazed into it, and dark pools of desire greeted his look into her eyes. With an imperceptible nod, he approves Jaleena’s aggression and the musician’s entrance.

Singha stood – never breaking his gaze. Slowly he stepped a step closer and circling her, inhaling her. His eyes inspected her every feature. Her feet caressed the elegant rug beneath her feet; her calves flowed gracefully into knees into thighs. The curves of her hips and the crease of her buttocks. Her back curved sleekly into shoulders broad enough to support her breast in upturned, pointy fashion. Soft hair draped over her shoulders and seductively hid her neck.

Stepping back in front of her, Singha caught her – eyes closed, reveling in sensation.

His hands reached for Jaleena’s hair and firmly directed down and lightly trailed her lips along the smooth skin of her stomach and released her there – at the soft borders of her naked netherlands.

Singha turned his attention away – briefly, to prepare for the inevitable. With a motion, he commanded pillows from all about to be moved around the beauty.

Now he stepped away and his attention turned back to the display before him.

 

[ranajja]

Suzanna hissed softly as the sultan guided Jaleena’s head downwards, and she felt waves of pleasure dance wildly across her skin.

His presence, his nearness, screamed sensuality—excitement—primal and raw—barely restrained desire…He was so close, yet he did not touch—but she could feel his breath caress her skin…

And abruptly he moved away, then a flurry of movement distracted her, and in the dim light she could see bodies, nude and graceful, bringing pillows. Soon, a lush pile of cushions surrounded them, and she thought of reclining, legs spread open brazenly, wet and inviting…

Suzanna shuddered as Jaleena’s sweet rosebud mouth neared her intimate places. She felt the warm tingling between her legs, shamelessly yearning for a lover’s kiss on her sweet wetness.

Then she gasped as she felt Jaleena’s lips pull gently at the topmost hairs of her pubis. With agonizing slowness, she kissed Suzanna again, and again, each time a little lower, and then, with a sweet little flicker of tongue…

“Ohhhhhh, yesssss,” she sobbed, as Jaleena’s tongue slipped sweetly, deftly between her nether lips, a long stroke…followed by another…and another...

Suzanna’s knees nearly buckled at the pleasure of it, and moaned again as Jaleena slipped her slender hand between Suzanna’s thighs, coaxing them apart…

 

[ranajja]

ready to play?

…small movements all around her, then she could feel hands, many hands, stroking her, caressing her, guiding her down…down among plush cushions, contouring to her body…soft and cool beneath her knees, the small of her back, then behind her neck…

Her skin on fire, yet she shuddered as she felt Jaleena moving insistently downwards…felt her slender hands caress her inner thighs, her nails lightly scratching her inner thighs, slowly, insistently, pushing them apart, exposing Suzanna’s wet sex…

Suzanna gasped and arched her back at the stroke of Jaleena’s tongue, slow and insistent…felt her dark hair spilling over Suzanna’s thighs…

She cried out, throwing her head back, pushing herself against Jaleena’s soft mouth, as she felt other hands caressing her, the touch of other lips nibbling and suckling her taut hard nipples…

She looked up to see him, shadows across his face, but she knew he directed this, could see the desire sparkling in his eyes…

 

[DriveSouth]

Singha eyes frolicked in the visual stimulation.

The vision that had stepped into his reality had captivated him. Captured his imagination. Where had she come from, who was she, what was she? Whatever, she knew pleasure. Knew how to enjoy the pleasure.

When Singha reached to turn the hourglass the second time, he found his mallet for the small gong and sounded it.

Jaleena quietly moved aside leaving Suzanna alone on the cushions.

Singha once more walked a circle about her quivering body. Taking in the writhing body excited him and his cock bobbed. Her chest heaved pressing here taut brown nipples upward then relaxed and they fell back but remained hard. Her breathing was sharp, short breaths. Her body spasmed and shook involuntarily, inhibition had long been replaced with desire.

Her knees bent slightly and her heels were drawn up towards her ass, opening herself up for any and all to see. He knelt there.

Gently he touched her soft thighs and she jumped and gasped. His hands grasped her thighs and massaged them firmly, pulling at her upper thighs, causing her lips to part and another gasp to escape. Slowly working his hands to her private, secret places. His fingers played with her hair shortly before fingering her there, where it felt so good.

She reacted favorably, grinding against his fingers, taking them into her pussy, deeper and deeper, arching her back trying to place them exactly right within her.

Singha removed them without warning, but in the same motion ran the full length of his manhood between her lips without entering her. From ass to clit, he stroked her outer lips again and again, and again she wriggled and writhed, given over to the pleasure.

 

[ranajja]

Suzanna’s breath came in short ragged gasps. Ohhh, she was soooo wet…what he was doing to her was incredible…

Jaleena’s gentle ministrations had brought her to orgasm after orgasm…leaving her quivering, but needing, aching to be fucked…deeply…slowly…

Then, the sultan had taken over, dismissing Jaleena, and began his slow, insistent conquest of her body, her mind. He knew just where to touch her, just where to stroke her, finger her…

And now, he was rubbing his incredible hardness all along her sex, wet and slick with her own juices. The tip of him stroked her, up and down, from her throbbing clit to her tight little ass…and she groaned, yearning for him to take her, completely…

The sounds, the small wet sounds of their sex heightened her arousal and she rubbed herself against him, wanting him inside her, deep, deep inside. She spread her legs farther apart for him, opening herself brazenly to him. Suzanna reached down and wrapped her fingers around him, hard and slick, and gently, lightly stroked the sensitive tip of his manhood. A little firmer stroke and she pressed the tip of him against her clit and rubbed herself…ohhhhh...

Groaning she pushed the tip of him farther down, against her sweet opening…and left him there, poised, ready to plunge into her.

“Oh, take me, please,” she breathed huskily, “Ohhhh, please," she said, writhing against him, "fuck me…”

 

[DriveSouth]

Her hand gripped Singha’s firmness. Pulled him, pressing him hard against her sensitive parts.

He liked the feel of her soft hand upon his hard flesh. Her eager grip pulling him, working her fingers down till she pressed against his body forcing the throbbing tip against her wet opening.

Her words were as alien to Singha as how she’d come to be here, but here cries were universal. He knew what she cried for, what she longed for. His eyes gently locked in on hers, as if signaling her to release her grip on him.

Her fingers slowly eased off and Singha pushed his length deep into her in a slick motion.

Pressing himself firmly against her, deeply inside her.

He held her by her knees and began an easy exit, slowly teasing her warm reaches. Her hands, now free to roam her own body rubbed and pinched at her hard nipples. Her back arched, nipples seeking more, her hips arched, pussy seeking more. Her body now cried out louder than her tongue had before, she needed fucking.

More aggression marked his second thrust and withdrawal.

No more pauses between thrust, rapid, strong, deep and now again and again he filled her. Singha pumped ferociously, trying to reach new depths with each stroke - holding her legs high, wide apart - until Suzanna’s body quivered.

Singha lowered her legs, allowing them to rest on the cushions. She panted, shallow breaths, sharp gasps punctuated some exhalations.

Her body writhed, wriggled closer to him, pulling him as deep as possible.

Singha’s hands reached back to the outsides of her knees and as gently as war worn hands allowed he caressed her thighs. Working upwards along her outer thighs as he slowly withdrew his shaft from the soft folds of her warmth.

He gripped her hips now, firmly he lifted her. Her feet struggled to touch the floor for support. Without moving himself, he looked into Suzanna’s eyes and pulled her onto his hard cock.

He was stronger than his frame suggested. He now pulled her off and quickly repeated the action, pushing her once more to the brink of orgasm. He wanted to see her cum, wanted to feel her struggle in his grasp as she convulsed.

His senses flooded as she came again and again.

And he decided it was time to follow suit and his piston action increased in tempo, plunging his shaft into her, impaling her onto his hot meat. He surrendered, finally allowing his seed to shoot free, to fill her womanhood with his essence.

 

[ranajja]

Suzanna cried out and arched her back, pushing against him, taking him in further, deeper—hitting that spot…holding it right there…ohhhhhh….

And as she felt his sweet convulsions, emptying himself into her, she gasped as her final orgasm reach its crest and flowed over her…overwhelming her…

So many climaxes, toooo m-much…she thought, helplessly, as her body quivered and shook once again, betraying her, spent, yet wanting more of him…

Once again, she felt herself swept up in his strong arms, felt his mouth crush hers, his lips possessing hers—and knew she’d fuck him again, and again—she’d let him do anything he wanted…

Which mean it was time to leave. The last time she’d allowed herself to become lost in a lover’s arms, oooooooooh…well, that particular orgy went on for days—

But this time she had deadlines to meet, and a new subject to prepare for…

Reluctantly, she willed the passion down, and deliberately began slowing his kisses...

Somehow, she untangled herself from him and pulled away. With as much grace as her trembling legs could muster, she walked to the travel portal, triggered the doorway, and stepped through…

 

[ranajja]

Stay tuned...

“The parties were bigger...the pace was faster, the shows were broader, the buildings were higher, the morals were looser....”
F. Scott Fitzgerald



Another Time...Another Place...


Chapter Two...


Coming sooooooon....

 

[ranajja]

And away we go...

It was a party time, this era. A fascinating study, the 1920s, sexuality discussed freely, hemlines flying upwards, glittering, fantastic, every man fancied himself Rudolph Valentino…and every woman fancied herself in Valentino’s legendary arms…

Cameras were once again strategically placed in the various rooms of the enormous town house. Three stories, grand and lush, and the parties here were legendary. Suzanna’s project was to get as much, and as many, participants recorded as possible. She smiled in anticipation, her imagination serving to be the first of her foreplay, as always…

Would the party break into individual pairings this time, or would it turn into the orgies always hinted at in the histories, but never quite proven…

She felt the warm tingling between her legs. Ohhhh, she was so aroused…already! Her producers loved her work, especially after the last footage, and were constantly demanding new material…and more than hinting at seeing more of her in the footage being submitted. So, her projects were multiplying—which was great, as she loved her work--but somehow, these “trips” were making her, well, increasingly more sensitive, sensitized…hornier, dammit…

And she was sooo ready for the evening’s festivities. It had taken quite a bit of planning, and timing, but Suzanna had to admit, she was a knockout in the dress, which was waiting for her in a secluded safe-place, along with the invitation she’d managed to obtain.

The owner of the house—her current target--was quite intriguing. There were no recorded pictures of the man, but the rumours of his feats of lovemaking were almost too good to be true, and his parties were renowned. If local gossip could be believed, well, this guy put Valentino to shame…

Decandent…Suzanna shivered in excitement…she could hardly wait…

 

[DriveSouth]

Philip Gremillion had returned to New Orleans from Chicago 5 years earlier. There were precious few differences in the two cities. The crescent city seemed a bit more sultry, steamy, but Philip attributed that to the humidity.

His return had been made a necessity when his father, Philip Sr., had been killed in a gunfight outside a bar on Bourbon Street. Jr. had taken over the following Monday. The family business included restaurants, bars, sugar cane plantations and sugar plants and with all that sugar, liquor was an easy branch out. The illegal liquor trade made for easy entry into the darker side of New Orleans business dealings, gambling, illegal contraband and prostitution to name a few.

Part of the inheritance was a palatial townhouse at the corner of Basin Street and Toulouse Street. Philip had heard stories of salacious activities that had always seemed beyond reality. Philip’s reality was shaken when he moved into the townhouse and discovered he owned a New Orleans Brothel.

The three-story structure’s second floor was restricted access, a floor of bedrooms. The first floor was the quintessential 1920’s speak easy. A massive mahogany bar was tucked into one corner and the opposite corner was elevated a foot or so forming a stage for musicians who filled the nights with music. A small oaken dance floor was centered in the room. Finely upholstered sofas and chairs were scattered about the room and dim bulbs dotted the room. The private third floor was Philips office for all the enterprises and an elegant bedroom for nights when going home was not an option.

Stories of the decadent lifestyle of the house abounded, most seemed to be rumor in innuendo and none had ever been proven.

They were all true; all the stories were true. Anything that had ever been rumored to have happened behind the doors of this townhouse had! Women plied the world’s oldest profession here with carefree abandon.

Philip reaped all the benefits. He took full advantage of this side business that he’d inherited. The women who worked there always were willing to take care of the boss and glean the perks of being the most recent to inhabit his world.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Valentine...the Madam

Valentine paused at the top of the grand staircase, and surveyed the crowd below. She liked to look over the customers as they entered. It was a good idea to know who was in the house, wouldn't want any embarassing moments for the police chief or a city councilman. Besides it was always best to have some idea of what would be needed on any given night, the reputation of her house depended on the total satisfaction of everyone who entered.

As she moved down the stairs, Val was aware of the looks of the men who had just arrived. How could they not watch as she decended? In conventional clothing she would have been stunning, but in the tight midnight blue gown she wore tonight she was a thing of desire. The bodice cut to show not only the creamy mounds of her breasts, but also the topmost curve of her areola, drew the eyes and thought of each man present. Then as she moved they saw, through a slit in each side of the skirt, the full length of her leg, encased in silk stockings. Her smile welcomed each man and promised delights never conceived.

At the foot of the stairs she paused, smiled broadly at them all and said,

"Welcome Gentlemen, to the home of the finest Courtesans in New Orleans! I'm your Hostess, Madam Valentine. Please go into the bar, have a drink on the house and get to know my girls. If there is anything you need, or something special you require, just let me know. Your satisfaction is our only desire."

With that, she swept into the bar. Eager to begin a new night.

 

[rashid]

OOC. Jeramiah Turnbull - Skipper of the Southern Belle. The Bell is a floating speaky catering to the mob. It's neutral territory - no weapons allowed - Our man is in town on business, looking for a variety of entertainment options suitable for his particular clientelle. Tall, graying at the temples, he wears his black suit and boots well. Dark eyes and a wicked smile. He carries a pistol, a small, but very sharp knife and a derringer in addition to several privately developed weapons of a quieter nature. He's a rogue, but a rogue in the best sense of the word. An adventurer, a ladies man and a good man to have beside you in a fight.

IC. Damn this infernal pleasure palace. All I wanted was to play some poker, steal a few pots and retire to my rooms. Looking around, I had to laugh at my foolishness. Retire to my rooms indeed - Fat chance!!!!!! I was surrounded by some of the finest woman flesh in New Orleans, buried in whisky and quality cigars and far from the recent unpleasantness in the capital. Excess in moderation, the master had said. Ha, I'd had it up to here with moderation - I would indulge myself to the utmost untill the passions burned themselves out and then indulge myself some more. I tilted my hat back just a bit, relaxed into the chair and focused on the game.

The house man said the game was dealers choice - This dealer said five card stud - five cards, face down, three card draw, best hands wins. - I looked at my cards - three queens, a king and a deuce. Draw one? draw two? I chose to play what I had - let 'em guess. With everyone else taking three cards I looked good enough to bet hard. Watching eyes for clues to who was holding what I felt good about the hand. Bets, raises, more bets - I hit them heavy and one by one I watched them fold - another pot for the Skipper. Damn , but I love to win.

As I raked it in, there was a commotion by the staircase. Letting my gaze follow the eyes of every able bodied man in the house, my head turned a bit more to the right and there, at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing, stood a stunning, magnificent vision in blue - midnight blue - smokey, sultry blue. The kind of blue reserved for royal flesh in the capitals of the Europe - She waited just long enough for effect and then, gathering her skirts, floated down the stairs and swept into the room like a goddess decending to earth. I ordered another drink - I was surely gonna need it.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Valentine ran a practiced eye over her girls as she entered the bar. True Courtesans, each one was a delight to all the senses. The house boasted the most beautiful girls in all New Orleans, not to mention the most skillful and daring in the art of seduction and pleasure. Men of quality and refinement were used to the best, and that is exactly what they received. They also received absolute privacy for their excesses...particularly those who enjoyed the private parties hosted by the owner of the house.

As she approached the bar, she was pleased to see her usual drink properly chilled and ready, and the bartender on hand to give her the evening updates.

"Good evening, Madame. My report for tonight is brief, but I think you will find it interesting.

Most of the usual customers have arrived for their eveing sport. The girls are making sure that each new arrival is properly greeted and made welcome. Everyone is drinking a great deal, so I expect that we'll have a profitable night. Unless the gentleman at table four continues to win."

Valentine glances at the table in question. Although the large quantity of chips was confirmation enough, there was no doubt which man the bartender meant. Dressed in black, hair thick and rich, with just a brush of silver as if only hinting at maturity. The face of a man who has seen and experienced many things, and the eyes....

"Who is he?" she asks quietly asks the bartender

"Don't know, friend of the boss maybe, or just a traveler. He's been here awhile, just drinking and playing cards."

"Sara," Valentine calls to one of her favorite girls, pulls her close for a quick caress and whispers into her ear, "Go see what you can learn about our winning friend at table four."

Knowing from personal experience the full depth of Sara's charms and talents, Val expects to learn all she needs to know about the man in black very quickly.

Sitting comfortably on the high stool Val crosses her long legs, puts on her most welcoming smile and waits for the first of the evenings requests.

 

[DriveSouth]

OOC: Roles for this thread have been filled at this time. New characters will be added as needed. Read and enjoy -

 

[rashid]

dark stranger

My deal. Seven card stud, jacks or better to open, two legs to take the pot. It's a good game - builds huge pots and lets me deal a while. One of the girls brings me a fresh drink without being asked and sets it down without a word. A solitary ice cube spins slowly around the rim of the glass. One. How did she know? For years I've ordered two fingers of burbon with a single cube of ice but I didn't order this one and she hasn't served me before. I check the bar, but the bartender is busy with his trade and paying no atention to me at all.
Strange........

The cards are flying from my fingers to the players in mindless fashion, the players talking among themselves as they wait for the deal to be completed. The usual questions about what brings you to town, who lives where, have you been here before etc. etc. Since my business is my business I say little more than I'm looking to book some entertainers for a special event and play some cards. Deal completed, my attention is on the players as they call for cards but in the corner of my eye I see the bar girl make her way to the lady in blue and whisper in her ear.

 

[Honey_B]

Jasmine

Jasmine smoothed her dress for the umpteenth time. The full length mirror revealed every detail to be perfect, but the young quadroon woman checked and rechecked the details. Her gleaming black hair had been upswept in a French twist, held in place by a single, rhinestone-studded comb. Nevertheless, she patted imaginary strands into place. Though her face was flawless, with skin the color of the pralines served on Bourbon street, she searched for a defect. Jasmine felt the color of the red dress she wore was better suited to the blond from which she had borrowed it, but she did not acknowledge that it fit her own figure better. The satin skimmed and shimmered over each curve of her long, lithe body before falling in soft folds just below her knees. She twisted a long rope of faux pearls twice around her neck and she was ready. There was nothing more to do.

Jasmine did not know what to expect from tonight. It wasn't that she had never exchanged money for sex. Quite the contrary. She had used her body by becoming a rich man's mistress to get herself off the godforsaken Caribbean island from which she was born. Now, everything was different. She faced a career of an endless string of trysts with men not of her choosing. The possibility both excited and terrified Jasmine.

Jasmine made her way into the main room. She could see that she was one of the last girls to come down. Jasmine hoped her employer would not mind too much, this being her first day, but she caught the angry glare from Valentine. She remembered the woman's words, "Never keep a customer waiting." Jasmine admired Valentine immensely. The madam had everything beauty, brains, but above all, Valentine was in charge of her own destiny.

"Someday," Jasmine thought, "Someday..."

She selected an elegant pillar and leaned against the cool marble. Every time someone entered, Jasmine's pulse quickened but eased a little as a another girl got up to greet the newcomer.

 

[ariosto]

Vito

The family had moved their interests from Havana to the Crescent City a generation ago but they still had to play patsy with Dino Tartaglia. That was Vito's job and he hated it.
His father, the Don had said it would be good seasoning for him. He was too fuckin' stubborn, he said, too god damned impatient. Give and take Vito..Ya gotta give and take.

He'd been in the City a week. He was hot, he was mad and he'd decided that on the way home tonight he was gonna kill the Tartaglia son of a bitch.
Dino had brought him here for a treat, apparently he was a regular customer. They all acted like they knew him anyway...

"Yeah, give the boy a red carpet treatment." he'd said to Valentine, "He's from Chicago, he needs to know how good Southern girls fuck."
Then he laughed and disappeared upstairs with Kim Basinger or something just like her.

Vito was no boy. He was thirty eight years old and would succeed to leadership of the Calcconi family when his father died.
He'd terminated personaly so many of his organizations enemies that he'd lost count. If he was a 'boy' he was a damned bad one.
He hadn't wanted to get laid tonight but he needed to do something to kill time before he wrapped Tartaglia's scrawny neck in piano wire.

The girl leaning against the column was different. She wasn't white and she wasn't black, she looked like cinnamon coffee, the red dress she wore was a bit to tight and made her skin glow like amber with a light underneath. She looked a bit nervous, not as slick and smart assed cool as the others. She reminded him of Nancy DiBenedetto...
He'd take her.

The tall man approaching Jasmin seemed a bit uneasy himself. He was angular and a bit rawboned but still moved gracefully and wore his expensive clothes like he was born in them. Olive complected with hair deep black and touched with grey. Big hands, long arms, It was his eyes that seemed ill at ease they glittered and moved restlessly around the room. He seemed in a hurry...impatient.

Jas took a step forward.
"Hello." she held out her hand.

He looked at it for a moment, then took it. Leaning forward he brushed her cheek with his lips.

"Vito." he said, those eyes now boring into hers,
"Let's go."

 

[Honey_B]

Jasmine

Outwardly Jasmine was cool sophistication. She raised a delicate eyebrow and said to her first customer in delicately accented English, "Mais oui, Vito. I am called Jasmine."

Seduction - Valentine expected all of her girls to be expert in the fine art of seduction. But, how does one seduce a man who knows exactly what he wants and will get it. With the instincts of a born courtesan, Jasmine seized upon the answer. She would slow him down, way down. He would not get her until he was desperate for her.

Instead of guiding him upstairs to one of the boudoir rooms, Jasmine asked, "Would you not like to have a glass of champagne with me?" He started to say no, but caught the hungry look in her eye. Intrigued, Vito answered, "Si, Jasmine. I will have a glass."

Jasmine let hear hips sway in a silent invitation as she lead Vito to one of the most intimate tables in the room. A waitress caught Jasmine's signal. She quickly brought a bottle of Roederer Cristal and poured them each a glass.

They sipped their wine and Jasmine gazed over her glass at Vito. She caught his eyes with her own. The low light turned them into fathomless inky pools. "A woman could lose herself in eyes like that," she thought. Something stirred deep within her. This drink might be simply perfunctory, but they both knew the intended outcome. Their senses became heightened, taking in and magnifying the smallest detail...

a brush of hand against leg, the hushed whispered tones of idle chat, the accompanying teasing breath across a flushed cheek, the deep intake of aroma, gathering the scent of one another.

Unprepared, Jasmine felt a rush of anticipation and shivered.

She refilled their glasses. The talk became desultory, attention diverted to observing the movements of mouth and hand. Jasmine's eyes lingered on Vito's hands. He had long, graceful fingers. She began to want those hands to touch her, casually and then, completely.

The bottle emptied, Jasmine knew it was time. "Shall we retire upstairs?" Vito nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

They stood together and walked to the stairs. Vito's hand appeared to rest casually on the small of her back as he guided her. The simple touch, however sent small shock waves through Jasmine's system. Every nerve ending came alive with anticipation for the night ahead.

Once upstairs, ensconsed in a bedroom, Vito's hands snaked around Jasmine's waist and pulled her roughly to him. He brought his mouth down onto hers with intense urgency. She parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slip easily into her mouth. The intimacy of tongue tasting tongue created a fevered response within Jasmine. Her body ached for more. She leaned into the him, wanting him to know her desire had grown to match his.

Her thoughts returned to his hands. She wanted them to delve beneath her dress, to feel the dampness that had formed, to know that the seductress had been seduced.

 

[ariosto]

Vito was a good lover...Vito loved women. They were to him a calm and soothing respite from the brutal reality of the life he lived.
As they talked and had their drink together in the bar he became increasingly interested in Jasmin and the murderous thoughts of an hour ago began to melt away. She seemed like a smart girl, even a witty girl, her conversation went beyond coquettery, she had a depth to her.
That was not what drew his interest. He was fascinated by the tawny color of her skin, the arched full curve of her lips. The texure of her raven hair intrigued him as did the swelling curve of breasts above the top of her red dress. He noticed the shape of her hands and the length of her delicate fingers on the stem of the wine glass. He smelled her perfume
and touched her arm above her wrist...

"Let's go"
he said again but this time in a softer voice, one that
promised more than a fast fuck and a couple of hundred from Dino for being nice to the Yankee Wop and a pat on the shoulder from Valentine.

In the door...
A passionate kiss and then his big hands were moving.
They slipped the thin straps of her dress from her shoulders and his lips were kissing the faint indentations they'd made in her caramel skin. The dress slides down trapping her arms against her sides and he tugs it over the dark coral tips of her stiffened nipples, it hangs for a second as though reluctant to reveal more... and then falls to her waist.
Vito backs her against the satin covered wall as deep red as port wine and begins to kiss her neck and throat. His hands roughly caress her arms , her shoulders, then move down to cup and squeeze her breasts.
He loves this. He becomes lost in it, her body a fine instrument and he the musician. He's hard himself now but almost unaware of it, the taste of her warm skin, the firm yield of flesh beneath his fingers are now his center, his reason for being...

Jasmin leans back against the wall arching herself up to him, his mouth brushes down then up along the rising curve of her bosom and opening, takes in the upthrust tips, closing on them, sucking them in, rolling them with his tongue.
She moans and would have taken his head in her hands and pulled him into her but her arms are pinned while Vito roams at will over her body...

 

[Lady_Kit]

As expected, Sara has learned the basic information about our dark stranger, Jeramiah Turnbull. A man of considerable focus to ignore Sara at her best. Intelligent, directing the game to the style that yields the largest pot, and requires concentration, not easily attained with so many female distractions.

A predatory smile lights Valentines' face as she looks at Captain Turnbull.
"One of the best parts of this job," she thinks to herself, "is that I can choose my lovers as I please...tonight I choose Jeramiah Turnbull."

Leaving her stool, Valentine begins to circulate through the room. She stops often, bending to kiss a cheek, ofering her hand or cheek for kisses in return. Some saw her as demure, with others she was domineering, to each, she was fantasy come to life. She was the perfect hostess, the consumate cortesan. Her last stop was table four. She halted directly behind Jeramiah, so close he could neither move away nor turn around.

Standing so close Jeramiah could feel the heat of her body; smell the softest of perfumes. He could imagine the weight of her breasts against his chest ....almost taste her skin.....

"Good evening, Captain, I am Valentine, I manage this house. Tell me are you enjoying your visit?" Val asked as she moved into his line of sight.

With a wicked and lazy smile, Jeramiah replies, "I have been ma'm, and I think it's about to get even better."

"Believe me, I am going to do my very best to make sure that you have a completely satisfying evening." Val tells him as she leans forward to shake his hand.

 

[rashid]

For an instant time stood still

Even the smile and your lovely eyes couldn't prepare me for the jolt of electricity surging up my arm accross my heart and deep into my groin when you take my hand. I'd never let you know it but every fiber of my being is screaming to throw you on the table and ravish you then and there.

Instead I look into your eyes, smile and say "Thank you, It will be my great pleasure to take you up on such a kind offer - In fact - If you're available, there is some business I'd like to discuss with you in private." You nod and, glancing at the time say "it happens I have everything under control at the moment. Would you care to join me in my office?"
The rest of the players at the table are looking at me with obvious mixed feelings. On the one hand they hate to see me leave with so much of their money and on the other no living man could refuse such an invitation. I grin at the thought and say "Well then, If you gentlemen will forgive me for leaving the table with so much of your hard earned money I promise to give you an opportunity to recoup your losses another time." "I expect to be here for several days and look forward to your company tomorrow"

When I stand up, I realize I'm a bit more obvious than I'd thought and can't help but notice your eyes taking in the bulge in my crotch. Sparks fly, tension mounts and you take my arm, leaning into me with all your lovely curves. I'd like to make small talk but hell, it's all I can do to look nonchallant while we make our way to the heavy wooden door of your office. On the way we pass the bar and you make arrangements for some drinks