Thomas Crown Affair (closed)

[Lady_Kit]

The stewardess made her final check before the flight began its decent into LaGuardia. She took special note of the woman traveling alone in the first class cabin, though there were other woman present this one stood out from the rest. During the long flight from London the woman had said little, and politely rebuffed the advances of more than one of the male travelers. Several people had shifted around the cabin during the flight, chatting, as fellow travelers will do. Sharing stories about this flight or that, but no one had been able to engage the woman in even the lightest conversation. It was as if there was a transparent but impenetrable wall around her. It wasn't really a wall, it was simply lack of interest. Though the stewardess had no way to know this.

The woman, Isabelle Montgomery, watched the lights of the city as the plane made its final approach. She still missed the sight of the towers and couldn’t quite resolve the blank space with the image that she kept in her head. So many things had changed since then. Strangely, for her, it meant an increase in business, enough so that she could pick and choose her jobs now. It was work that brought her back tonight.

The dark glass of the window offered back her reflection over the lights, though she paid little attention to what she saw. That morning she had dressed for travel; low-heeled ankle boots, dark slacks, a pale soft sweater that clung to her high firm breasts and a black leather jacket with a wide fur collar. Her auburn hair was pulled into a smooth twist, accentuating the strong lines of her face. Expensive, yet tasteful jewelry completed her ensemble. If asked to describe her, most people would give the same description of Isabelle; expensive but tasteful. It hadn’t always been that way. A slight bump on the ridge of her nose was a constant reminder of a long ago break and the rough life she had once led; though she could have easily afforded to have the imperfection corrected she left it as it was, so she would never forget where she came from.

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OOC: Isabelle Montgomery is in the recovery business; art, jewelry, and the valuable trinkets of the rich are her specialty. Her fees are high, her word absolute, and the privacy of her clients assured. The law is a tool that she sometimes uses and sometimes abuses; it all depends on what is required to get the job done. Most people would consider her a mercenary at worst, bounty hunter at best, but to her, its just an example of practicality. If she doesn’t recover, she doesn’t get paid.

She’s been called to New York to locate and retrieve a particularly expensive item that has gone missing. Her client is the insurance consortium that will have to pay the claim if the item is not found. Isabelle has never failed to bring back a missing valuable and collect her fee. This time may prove to be a first.

A closed thread loosely based on the movie “The Thomas Crown Affair” to share with Captainb.

 

[captainb]

The corner of the office was solid glass, the wide window unmarked save for the seam binding the two halves together. Outside, the lights of Manhattan rolled into the distance, the lamps far below marking the streets, boulevards, and alleys with a soft glow. The thin layer of their bustle of activity was in stark contrast to the geometric patterns of lights that rose with the concrete and steel that surrounded them, marking out territories of vital importance to those tiny inhabitants but whose borders blended into a single entity from the heights. Even farther above, glittering pinpoints of airplanes and helicopters crisscrossed the almost-black sky, most rising and descending, others passing far overhead, high enough to make some wonder if they watched a plane or a satellite scuttling through space.

The man at the window took it all in with one glance, barely noticing the same scene that played out night after night. He stared instead at the starless sky, cloudless but washed out by the city’s glare, and sipped at the tumbler of bourbon over ice. His reflection was dim, only visible by the faint light from the muted television screen behind him, its fifty widescreen inches embedded into the dark paneled wall of the office. He was tall, his straight black hair combed back above a smooth-shaven face. His necktie was loose over a white straight-collared shirt with sleeves rolled to just below the elbow, and a set of maroon braces lay over his shoulders and attached to dark blue pants. The gold ring on his right hand sparkled a deep red from an inset ruby the size of his little fingernail. The ice in the tumbler had melted to thin slivers.

His gaze flicked to the TV reflection, and he turned to pick up the remote on the black desk, bare except for a black telephone. He pushed a button…

…olen on Friday evening from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, is the only one of its kind known to be found. Unearthed in Egypt in the early 1900s, the small statue depicts the Egyptian goddess Isis sitting with another god, Horus, in her lap. While several similar statues have been discovered that were made of bronze, the Alexandria Isis is the only one discovered to be carved from jade. It was an extraordinary find, indicating contact between Ptolemaic Egypt and the Orient far earlier than commonly known. Police and museum officials still have no clue as to how, despite the heavy security in place around the statue, the thieves were able to make off with the priceless work of art…

He sat in the black leather chair and muted the newscast again. His gaze flicked to the bookcase along the opposite wall and, pointing the remote control at a particular row of books, he pressed five particular buttons. The row of books silently swung outward as a soft light flicked on inside the hidden compartment. He leaned back and slowly sipped at his drink, a satisfied smile playing along the edges of his lips as he looked at the dark green statue, the blank eyes of the dead gods staring back with their own mute judgment.

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OOC: Thomas Crowne is a billionaire financier and landowner, president of several companies, on the board of directors of a half-dozen more, and is well-known for his philanthropic contributions and grants to help the disadvantaged and medically needy. Born to a moderately wealthy family, he was reckless and athletic in his youth. His shrewd business acumen combined with brilliant stock-market plays propelled him to a world player by the time of this, his forty-first year. He has all anyone could ever dream of and is diversified enough that even if the market went belly-up in the morning, he would never need to worry about money.

Maybe not surprisingly, there are few who know that they are truly his friend. He was once married, but that ended over ten years ago with the accidental death of his wife. Now, with all of his power and abilities, he finds that he is mostly bored. He does what he does so well that it is no longer a challenge, and for many years he has been looking for a way to bring the thrill back into his life. It seems that he has finally discovered how.

 

[Lady_Kit]

“I tell you that there is no way someone could steal the statue! We have the best security the most state of the art systems. The Metropolitan Museum of Art is impenetrable.”

The balding man in the bad suit must be the assistant curator Isabella thought as she approached the small group of men outside the doors to the Egyptian collection. The curator would be better dressed. The collective voices were loud enough to drown out the sound of her heels clicking on the marble floors as she walked toward them, but they couldn't fail to miss the husky female voice that spoke to them as she drew closer.

If your security were that good the statue would still be here, Mr. Dennis. It is Henry Dennis, isn’t it? And you must be Lt. Peterson, I recognize you from todays story in the Times. What was the headline? “Police Baffled by Walking Statue” Not very complimentary, maybe you should ask for a retraction.

The two men turned to Isabelle, but only one, the hardened officer was able to speak after taking in her tight black skirt, high heels and vivid green silk blouse. She oozed sensuality, and looked decidedly out of place in the group of New York beat cops, detectives and museum security.

“I’m sorry, and you are…?”

The detective seemed decidedly unhappy about her presence and looked ready to seriously damage the man who’d let her onto his crime scene.

Isabelle Montgomery. I represent the businessmen who will have to pay a very large sum of money to the museum if the statue isn’t recovered. They sent me to make sure that they never have to write that check. So tell me, do you have any suspects?

“Suspects?! Lady, we haven’t even figured out how the damn thing got out of the gallery yet.”

Then I’ve arrived just in time. Have you searched the museum? No? I see, well maybe someone should. Mr. Dennis, why don’t you show me where the statue was last seen?

She left the sputtering detective and let the curator lead her into the Egyptian gallery. On either side of the entrance were the tables covered in the remains of a catered event, and the clutter from a party could still be seen around the open space of the first room of the gallery.

Must have been a hell of a party. What was the occasion?

With that question the floodgates opened and Mr. Dennis launched into a detailed description of the party that had been held to commemorate the addition of a special area for new fifth dynasty objects. Isabelle asked the right questions and discovered that the benefactor of this new exhibit hall was a local philanthropist, a Mr. Thomas Crowne.

“Mr. Crowne was quite upset about the disappearance of the statue. He has even offered to loan us a piece from his private collection until the Isis statue is recovered. He’s quite an authority you know, why when he examined the jade statue he was able to pick out the most amazing details.”

Isabelle looked at him in shock. Someone outside of the museum staff was able to handle and examine one of the artifacts? No wonder Dennis was only the assistant curator.

Well, perhaps I’d better speak to Mr. Crowne. You wouldn’t happen to have his number would you Mr. Dennis?

 

[captainb]

“Good morning, Mr. Crowne.”

“Good morning, Louise.”

“Good morning, Mr. Crowne.”

“Good morning, Carl.”

The ritual repeated fourteen times between when Thomas Crowne awoke until he closed the door to his office. It had hit a high of fifty-three six years ago, before he grew weary of making a daily show of arriving at work. He still arrived, but now took a private elevator entered through an underground garage. Fourteen was comfortable, and most of those were from his household staff.

“Good morning, Mr. Crowne.”

“Good morning, Diane. I spoke with David Sedgewick last night about the Ridgestone papers. He should be calling back this morning. And tell Raymond that I’m still getting those popup messages from that blasted antivirus program. I’m glad it works, but I’m tired of clicking Okay ninety times every morning.”

“I’ll call him right away, sir. I’m going through the same thing myself.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “The more they try to make life easier, the more it seems to get complicated.” She smiled back as he entered his office. He touched a wall switch and a section of paneling slid aside for him to hang his coat. The office was brightly lit, the sun’s direct glare blocked by the vertical blinds that still gave a warm glow to the rich woods and leathers of the room. He walked to the window to gaze at the city, hearing his secretary enter and place a coffee cup on his desk.

“Your meeting with Aaron and Leslie Fitzsimmons is scheduled for 9:30. Bill Collins left a message that he can meet you at 2 West at 11:30.”

“Call Bill and tell him I can’t make lunch today. I’m going to stop by the museum later. I’ll grab something on the way.”

“Yes sir. Is there anything else right now?”

“No, thank you, Diane.”

The door softly closed behind her, and Crowne turned to his desk. He punched the remote and the TV screen flickered to life, preset to CNN. He sat and sipped, the newscasters’ voices washing by in the background. The sun glittered off of the various artworks around the room, their subdued displays accentuating the décor instead of drawing attention to themselves. Various ancient statuettes and carvings, a few small paintings, and one Polynesian fertility mask made up the quite legal collection. He drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes drifting to the bookcase. With a sigh, he set his cup down and turned his attention to the computer monitor just as the intercom clicked.

“Mr. Crowne, you have a telephone call from Isabelle Montgomery. She says she represents the consortium that insured the stolen statue. Shall I put her through?”

He pursed his lips and looked at the intercom. “No. Tell her I’ll be in touch later in the day. It’s a little early to talk with an insurance agent, Diane.”

“Yes sir,” she said with a laugh in her voice.

Crowne’s eyes narrowed and he thought for a moment, then turned back to the monitor and called up a search engine. He typed in Isabelle Montgomery and pressed Enter…

 

[Lady_Kit]

“Ms. Montgomery? I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Mr. Crowne is unavailable to speak with you this morning. He suggests that you call back.”

Isabelle felt her blood pressure rise. Should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, she thought. It never was with these guys.

Very well, tell him I’ll be in touch.

She hung up the phone, made a note of the call on a legal pad, and then turned to her computer. Several files were tiled on the screen, most of them the vanilla type of information that was accessible to anyone with an Internet connection. There had to be more, no one with the money and power that Thomas Crowne had was that clean. A second call would start the flow of more interesting information. A male voice answered on the first ring.

Steele? Isabelle. I need a full check on Thomas Crowne…Yea, yea I know who he is…Give me the works, everything…I don’t know yet, pull a team together just in case I want to take a look around.

A low laugh escaped her lips and she looked at the photo on the screen before concluding the call.

Yea, I think it might be a challenge, but that’s what I pay you for, meeting the challenges.

The penthouse windows gave her an unobstructed view of Central Park west and she took a moment to enjoy the scene of living things in the middle of the city. It always seemed strange to think of so many wild things making their homes in nests and burrows in the heart of bustling metropolis. But in a city the size of New York, it was easy to hide a great many things, whether it was in Central Park or the business interests of Thomas Crowne. Isabelle knew that there was more to the man than met the eye. What she needed now was to get close enough to find out what he might be hiding. Her next call should provide ample opportunity.

Amanda? Darling, how are you?…Yes, I’m in town for a few days, just a little shopping broken up by some dreadfully boring business. Please tell me that there is something interesting happening to distract me from the horror of lawyers and accountants…A party, how wonderful! …No I’m all alone this trip, simply awful to have to go without an escort I know, but it does leave lots of opportunity for a bit of fun….Have I seen anyone interesting, well, now that you mention it… I don’t suppose you know if Thomas Crowne is on the guest list?…He’s the guest of honor? Perfect! What time?….Wonderful darling…I’ll see you then. Bye!

Amanda Greenstock was an A-List hostess and a long time friend of Isabelles; they shared the common bond of women who came up the hard way in life. Among the secrets they shared was the fact that they had met in a disreputable strip club in Vegas where they both worked at the time. Tonight their connection would allow Isabelle attend a black tie dinner party for Thomas Crowne, and make good on her promise to “get in touch.”

 

[captainb]

Evening rush hour revealed a limousine whisking along FDR Drive, its tinted windows completely obscuring the occupants. Thomas Crowne leaned back against the rear seat with his eyes closed. He had changed into his tuxedo. The office suite included an apartment that would have made most homeowners proud. Crowne used it when he didn’t have time to drive home, especially on nights like this when he needed to be across town in a short time.

It had been a fairly uneventful day, and he was almost relieved to be forced to attend the party. The gala. The event of the week, an affair held to thank him for his contributions to the city’s library system, his dual gifts of immediate cash and an investment in the system’s name forestalling a 50 percent reduction in their workforce and the closing of fifteen branches. The grateful board members and legions of coattail sycophants, most of who would never deign to step into any of the old library buildings, fell over themselves to throw this luxury bash in his honor.

Still, he reminded himself again, most did mean well by it, and a little public appreciation was always nice. Crowne wasn’t so noble and humble as to totally eschew such symbolism. Watching the people interact was entertaining, anyway. It was an education to note the new power players and which hand was feeding which this time around.

The most interesting part of the day had been his search through Isabelle Montgomery’s past. She brought an impressive resume. Essentially a bounty hunter, Montgomery had been involved in several high-profile property recovery investigations. Her success rate made her a top choice for insurance companies seeking to avoid hefty payouts. There were undoubtedly many more layers of detail that he could have uncovered, but enlisting outside help wasn’t prudent. More detail was irrelevant anyway, and there was no sense in drawing more attention than necessary, especially since he was undoubtedly in her sights. He wouldn’t even be surprised to see her at the event tonight. As the limousine pulled up to the curb and his door was opened, Crowne felt himself hoping that she actually would be here. The game was afoot, as he knew it would be. Determining which was the cat and which the mouse was all part of the fun.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Growing up poor had left Isabelle with a taste for the finer things in life and she indulged her tastes; cars, boats, and fast men all the best of everything. Keeping her closet filled with expensive clothing, shoes and bags was an activity that sometimes bordered on obsession, or so Geoffrey, a short-term lover and prominent psychiatrist, had once told her. She had shrugged off the comment and pointed out that a good pair of shoes often lasted longer than most relationships. Evidence of that opinion rested on the floor next to the dressing table; a lovely pair of Italian leather evening sandals that she’d purchased during the Geoffrey period. The shoes had been with her for more than a year, the man didn’t last six months.

Isabelle carefully pulled a sheer black stocking up one long leg then fastened it at the lacey garter resting on her thigh. The second stocking followed over the creamy flesh of the other leg, and she sighed softly at the feel of its silken caress. Her breasts were unbound, the cool air of the room bringing the dark nipples to hard peaks. As she pulled on her gown, a soft clinging sheath of darkly glittering fabric, she imagined a lovers touch.

She looked at the reports she’d been reading about Thomas Crowne, he was a fascinating man, well educated, well connected and well protected. The information was still frustratingly vague. Isabelle applied a final gloss of color to her lips; she’d just have to get closer.

Later, standing in the foyer of the Greenstock penthouse Isabelle felt the familiar tingle of the hunt, the thrill of the chase. She thought about the man she was about to meet, it was possible that he was innocent, but her intuition said otherwise. The anticipation of learning his secrets and finding the things he kept hidden brought a stab of sexual excitement. The open floor plan allowed her to observe most of the occupants of the main room and her eyes were quickly drawn the her hostess and the man who stood at her side. Dangerous, she decided; he was more handsome than his photos had shown, but strangely also less polished than he seemed in the same pictures. Apparently the photographer had been unable to capture the true essence of Thomas Crowne; she wondered if she would fare any better at capturing the man. All this sped through her mind as she moved through the other guests toward Amanda Greenstock.

“Isabelle!! You came! Oh, darling how wonderful to see you. My God where did you get that dress? You must have brought it from home, are you hungry? Would you like some champagne? Oh do say something or else I’ll prattle all night!”

Isabelle smiled at her friend who was the model for every mans “Blonde” fantasy. Everything about her was big, her smile, her laugh, her enormous tits and most importantly her heart. Amanda was the only person in the world that Isabelle truly loved.

Its good to see you too! I bought the dress in Rio, there is a lovely young designer there. He has magic hands! I’m starved, I’ve been eating hotel food for a week. Bourbon, on the rocks please…How can I say anything when you won’t stop talking?!

Both women laughed at the familiar greeting, and exchanged hugs before they turned their attention toward the nearby man.

“Isabelle Montgomery allow me to introduce..”

…Thomas Crowne.

Isabelle finished the sentence and smiled at her prey.

 

[captainb]

As usual, the news picture that he'd found of Isabelle did not do her justice. He'd discerned that she was attractive, but the smile that crossed his face was genuine as she spoke.

"A pleasure, Miss Montgomery," Thomas said, taking the proferred hand.

"Oh, have you two met?" asked Amanda.

"No, but who would I be if I didn't recognize the man of the evening?" said Isabelle.

"Amanda, you never told me you knew such charming women," said Thomas. "Have you been keeping them to yourself?"

Their hostess shushed him with a laugh. "Actually, Thomas, Isabelle just arrived from London. She says it's all business and stuff, but I think that she just can't find a good bagel over there." She giggled and Thomas couldn't help but smile again. Amanda was a breath of fresh air and he had steered toward her as soon as he arrived. Fortunately she had quickly been able to shake the cobwebs out of his head.

"Honestly, I've been dying for a H&H bagel," said Isabelle. "I don't know what it is about Europe, but their bagels just doesn't taste quite right without that Manhattan air. So Mr. Crowne, what kind of bagel do you like?" She sipped her drink.

He gazed levelly at her. "Oh, I'm afraid that my preference is rye toast. Cuccio's bakery makes a wonderful rye. Have you ever tried it?"

"No, I don't believe I've heard of it. Cuccio's, you say?"

"Yes," he said, softly swirling the ice in his glass. "I'd be happy to have a fresh loaf delivered to you."

Amanda threw her head back and shrieked in laughter. "Oh, this is too much, too much! I'm going to find Richard and another drink. You two.... Toast! Good lord!" Waving her hands in mock disbelief, she melted into the other party guests.

Thomas looked at Isabelle with a slight smile. "She's an incredible woman. Have you known each other long?"

"Yes, we've been friends for quite a while. She's... very special."

"So I've noticed. One of the few genuine articles." She arched an eyebrow as they both tasted their drinks. "Shall we find the buffet table?"

They started slowly moving through the party. Despite himself, he was impressed. He didn't stare of course, and his eyes hadn't dropped below her neck. But his peripheral vision was excellent. Her body softly rolled as she walked, the dark gown doing little to hide the gentle bounce of her breasts. That soft material must feel marvelous sliding over her skin, he thought. Done to entice me or excite herself... or maybe a bit of both judging by those tight tips poking through. He smiled at the thought and spoke to cover himself.

"So, Miss Montgomery, if I may..."

"Isabelle."

"So, Isabelle. What business brings you back to the states?"

 

[Lady_Kit]

Why, Mr. Crowne don’t tell me that your assistant…Diane wasn’t it?… failed to tell you why I called you this morning! I’m shocked that you would have someone so inefficient in your employ.

Isabelle smiled, relishing these early stages of the game, the period where she and her opponent sized one another up before the real fun began.

“Please, call me Thomas,” he said with a smile. "Ah, yes, you're the insurance investigator, but that isn’t really an accurate description of your role. Is it.”

He made it a statement, not a question. Good, she thought, he’s done his homework as well.

I do try to help my clients avoid the bother of a claim. Besides, it isn’t really about the money, many feel that the value of their treasures is in the possession; and acquisition. Wouldn’t you agree, Thomas?

They had arrived at the banquet table by this point. They shared a laugh about the absence of a bagel or decent slice of rye toast to tempt them and were forced to settled instead for more refined delicacies. At a nearby table their conversation was light hearted on the surface but peppered with innuendo and hidden messages. Isabelle found herself unwillingly drawn to Thomas. His natural charm and intelligence made him an ideal dinner companion, and her observations of his body implied that he would be ideal in other areas as well. She found him vastly entertaining, and rather than question him about he museum theft, allowed him to regale her with stories about the patrons of Manhattan society that had turned out to honor him this evening.

They finished their meal and watched the occupants of the room begin to rearrange themselves in preparation for the brief ceremony that had drawn them all together. Isabelle was reluctant to part company from Thomas and when their eyes met she knew that he felt the same way. However, duty called and he rose from their table, but not before taking her hand and placing a soft kiss upon the back.

“We must still have that conversation about the missing statue, Isabelle. Perhaps we could do so over a bagel and coffee?”

I would be delighted, Thomas. I must warn you, though, I like my bagels for breakfast, and preferably while still in bed.

 

[captainb]

He was grateful to be wearing the jacket as he walked toward the front of the room. His physical reaction to her simple words was surprisingly strong. The thought of shaking hands with Lester Smythe however, quickly solved that problem, and Thomas stood for the obligatory kind words of thanks then stepped forward to give his own brief speech. It was easy, words he had said many times before, and the audience wasn’t expecting anything more anyway. Their applause at the end was as much for being free the rest of the evening as for him.

The band struck up, and they watched each other across the room as he maneuvered through the crowd. When they finally reunited, he asked her to dance. She seemed to anticipate his every move while letting him lead completely, and he looked at her consideringly as they whirled across the polished floor. She was a beautiful creature, not ashamed to press her body against his. The band slowed and their rhythm matched it, drawing nearer as the lights slightly dimmed.

He wasn't completely sure what her professional intentions or suspicions were. No doubt she was sharp enough to latch onto him quickly, he thought, but she was either genuinely interested in him or an Oscar-caliber actress. Either way, the theft was the connection between them. He wondered just how close she might get. The idea of sparring wits with her filled him with a dangerous exhileration, and he leaned in to inhale her scent.

His thigh pressed between hers as they moved, and she molded herself against him. He felt himself becoming aroused again but made no effort to hide it. Instead, he watched her eyes. A smile played along the edge of her lips as she recognized the somewhat subtle challenge.

The lights changed and the next tune was fast. He glanced around with a mock-sour look and leaned toward her ear. “It’s getting a bit warm in here, don’t you think? May I show you the view from my office? I guarantee, if you still want to dance, that I’ll have the perfect music for you. And there will be fresh bagels delivered in the morning.”

 

[Lady_Kit]

He was a charismatic speaker, as she’d expected, saying the right things, making eye contact, doing all the things they taught you to do in executive school. But people seemed to listen because he also seemed to be well liked, as a person, not just as a contributor; this was something that Isabelle had not anticipated. Oh, she’d known he’d be charming, but the was more to it than that, and whatever that “more” was, it drew her along with the rest of the audience.

They danced, she laughed inside at the tame description of what they did, or would have done had the music and the atmosphere lasted any longer. His body pressed against her in all the right places, and she moved closer, letting him know that she enjoyed the contact; she was damp from the feeling of his body and the adrenalin rush of the game was pushing her to get closer. This wouldn’t be a good place for what she had in mind though.

“It’s getting a bit warm in here, don’t you think? May I show you the view from my office? I guarantee, if you still want to dance, that I’ll have the perfect music for you. And there will be fresh bagels delivered in the morning.”

I’d love to see your office Thomas. I’ve always felt that one can learn so much about a man from the treasures he keeps in his office. And besides, how could I resist fresh bagels for breakfast?

She wrapped her arm around his, and leaned close, letting her breast press against his chest.

Shall we?

 

[captainb]

Drinks and dinner and dancing with a beautiful, intelligent lady. She knew all the right buttons to push, and Thomas willingly let her. Her breath was soft against his lips as they talked and laughed. They strolled to the elevator arm in arm, waving goodbye to Amanda from across the room. Isabelle leaned close to him during the ride down, but he simply studied her face, not leaning in himself for an assured kiss. She smiled wryly, aware of the game, and turned away while keeping her breast softly pressed against his arm.

In his limousine, however, he finally succumbed. She was too near, too intoxicating, and he pulled her close to taste her lips, the first soft peck turning passionate as they clung together. He pulled her sideways onto his lap, cradling her body in his as their lips slid together, her tongue flicking out in response to his probes. The ride was endless but all too soon the car bumped into the parking garage and pulled up before his private elevator.

"Thank you, Max," Thomas said as they stepped out of the car. The driver kept his eyes averted and blank as he wished his employer a good night, and the couple stepped into the elevator. It rose swiftly and silently, and they stood together watching the numbers above the door. A small smile played over his features. Into the lion's den, he thought, wondering if similar thoughts were going through her mind.

The door slid open. "I like to come here late at night sometimes," he said, leading her through the empty offices. He opened his ofice door and touched a panel on the wall. "Welcome to my lair," he smiled as dim lights glowed in the corners and music softly started. "Would you like a drink?"

She smiled and walked to the corner window as he picked up the remote and pointed it at the wall. A panel slid up to reveal a fully stocked bar, crystal shimmering under pale blue lights. "Still bourbon, or maybe some champagne?" His eyebrows rose as she came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. "Or maybe you'd like a new taste on your lips?"

 

[Lady_Kit]

Brought back to the hunters cave to see his trophies before she became one? Isabelle wondered to herself as she looked around the luxurious office. He didn’t seem the kind of man to feel the need to impress a woman with his possessions.

Whatever you’re having will be fine, I’m sure.

She said from behind him.

But I do believe you promised me a dance.

Thomas pulled her around until he held her in his arms. She tilted her head until she looked up into his eyes. The intensity of his gaze took her breath; her lips parted slightly, and the rest of her flip remarks were forgotten. So, for the moment was the reason she was here.

Isabelle raised her arms until she found the collar of Thomas’ jacket. Her fingers followed the smooth fabric over his broad chest, to his shoulders and finally, one hand touched his face. As she pulled him toward her, as she raised herself up sliding her body against his, she whispered,

…and bagels, you said there would be bagels.

“In the morning.”

He replied, just before their lips touched.

 

[captainb]

Oh, this is very good, very good, Thomas thought, sinking deeply into the kiss. She pressed against him, their legs opening and slipping together. He pressed up hard, feeling her crotch grind back against him as her thigh rose to rub against his erection. He suddenly bent and slid an arm under her knees, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her across the office. The desk was black and bare, and he set her on the edge and leaned forward, bending her back with his kiss. He broke contact, letting his tongue slide down her upturned throat and into her cleavage. His hands slid the gown up, exposing the sheer black stockings up to where they met the lacey garters. His fingers softly traced up the inside of her stockings as her legs slowly fell apart. He leaned forward, his cheek brushing against the ultra-soft skin high inside her thigh, to inhale the sweet musk. Thomas' mouth pressed forward, brazenly dragging his lips around the edge of her crotch as he smoothly unfastened the garters. His nose softly bumped against her sex, and he noted with pleasure the moisture seeping through the sheer panties. Her hips slowly moved.

Two of his fingers slipped under the edge of her panties. "I want to taste you, Isabelle," he whispered. The panties started their trek down her legs and she raised them willingly. They slid over her feet and her legs opened again. She gazed down between her breasts and he looked back up at her, bringing his mouth near her crotch. Her nipples were clearly visible, hard and pressing up through the thin material and throwing sharp-edged shadows in the blue light. "I want to taste your pussy. Would you like that, Isabelle?" He kissed her calf without breaking his gaze.

"Yes," came a soft voice. "I want you to do that."

He leaned in again, his eyes dropping to the shadowed smudge between her legs as her knees rose. He stopped an inch away, breathing her scent as his breath caressed the pale flesh that framed it, seeing the faint glistening as her moisture reflected the dim blue light from across the rooom. His tongue slipped out and just barely touched along one gleaming edge....

She moaned. He quickly readjusted his pants and gave his hardened cock a brief squeeze as he licked her again, a longer stroke that rose to the top of her cleft and hung there, slowly swirling around the tiny hard nub. Down he dropped again, pushing his tongue forward to penetrate her folds, lapping up the wetness that seeped from her. He swallowed; she was delicious. He pushed his tongue hard into her pussy, his nose rubbing against her clit as her hips moved in response.

Her moans were edging near to cries when he suddenly looked up. "Don't stop," she whispered in frustration. But he rose between her legs to bring his face next to hers. Two of his fingers stroked slowly along her wet vulva.

"Do you like what I was doing?" he asked, knowing the scent of her was strong on his face.

"Yes, I do," she said, trying to reach up to kiss him. He brought his hand up instead and slid his wet fingers over her lips. She sucked on them as he spoke. "I love eating you. I love the taste of your pussy, Isabelle. The way you move under me, in my mouth, it excites me so much to see you so excited." He kissed her then, letting her tongue swirl in his mouth and gather her taste on her own lips. "I want you to cum in my mouth," he whispered, then broke away and dropped quickly back between her legs. His hands gripped her ass and pulled up as his mouth found her pussy again. His tongue dove deep, pushing up her wet tunnel, letting her hips move as she began to fuck his face. He swallowed again, his cock straining tight in his pants. Her pussy was drenched. He felt her juice rolling over his fingers, and her thighs and his cheeks slid wetly together. She groaned and her hands suddenly gripped his hair, pulling his face in tight as her hips began rocking upward in time to her rising gasps.

 

[Lady_Kit]

OH GOD!! She was ready to cum! So close…so maddenly near to that great gasping orgasm that she could almost feel.. His tongue fucked her, pushing, probing invading her cunt with its presence.

God that feels good! Jezuz don’t stop! Ohhhh..O O O !!

His face rubbed against the swollen lips of her pussy; the slight growth of beard on Thomas’ jaw tantalized Isabelle with its rough texture. She cried out when prickly whiskers on his upper lip brushed against her hard clit or the harder beard of his chin raked over the sensitive bud of her ass. Thomas pressed deliberately against the tight opening with his chin; she eagerly rose up to press back. He pulled his mouth from her dripping sex, replacing his tongue with two thick fingers. Isabelle moaned at the increased penetration offered.

“We almost had you there didn’t we?”

Thomas squeezed her tit, and pinched gently on the swollen nipple; her pussy clenched in response. The fingers plunged deeper and harder in the tighter sheath of her flesh.

Yeees…almost there…felt so good Thomas…Ah ah ah

The tempo of thrusts into her sex became rhythmic and increased in speed.

“What do you need, Isabelle? Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

I need you to…to…

she panted and ground her cunt against his hand as he continued to finger-fuck her pussy while she spoke between gasps

“to..to…finger you? Like this?”

She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps that left nothing for speech.

“But if my tongue is in your pussy, then my fingers have to be…?”

The tip of his finger was slick with her juice and hot from the tunnel of her sex; when he placed it against her tight ass she quivered and began to rub her clit; wantonly, offering him an erotic vision of perfectly manicured hands against the rose red skin of Isabelles wet pussy. He rubbed the tight opening to her hole over and over dipping his finger in and out of her pussy, and watching as she writhed beneath his touch.

Isabella felt on fire with lust; not desire, not want, not need but good old fashioned Lust! She wanted to fuck this man until they both collapsed, then rest and do it again. She wanted desperately to taste his body, to suck his cock into her hungry mouth and swallow him as he squirted hot thick cum into her throat. She wanted to feel him inside her in every way possible. And she wanted it now! Unable to wait another second, unwilling to endure the torture of his teasing touch, she pushed against him and his finger slipped inside her ass. The orgasm began at that second, and built. Thomas took over from there.

 

[captainb]

She began to shake, her hips rocking his finger in and out of her ass. Isabelle’s hands clenched her tits, her head thrown back as she pulled at her nipples. Thomas breathed heavily, watching her lust roll through and come crashing out of her. His finger was buried in her ass, whirling softly there, and his other hand slid two fingers rapidly in and out of her drenched cunt. But it wasn’t enough for him, and he dropped his face again to suck her tiny, hard bud between his lips. Her hands reached to grip his hair, forcing his face deeper between her legs as she bucked. She didn’t cry out or moan, just gasped over and over as he caught her clit gently between his teeth and sucked, flicking at the oh-so-sensitive tip. His fingers curled up inside her pussy, rolling the soft, ridged flesh behind her clit.

Her dam burst, and she clenched his head and jammed it hard into her pussy with an explosive cry. He managed to take a deep breath, then pulled his fingers out and opened his mouth around her entire cunt. His tongue shot forward into Isabelle as warm liquid flowed into his mouth and down the crack of her ass, lubricating the finger which continued pushing in and out of her tightest hole. Her hips bucked uncontrollably at his face and he swallowed, then swallowed again. My god, she tastes so good, he thought. His tongue felt like the roots might rip out, but he didn’t care and pushed deeper into her, licking the inside of her wet, open tunnel as his nose rolled over her clit.

Slowly, slowly, she subsided. His deep sucking lighted as her grip on his hair lost strength, and he slowly pulled his finger out of her, lapping gently around the edges of her labia and dipping down for a quick swipe between her warm cheeks.

“Come here,” she whispered, and he brought his face up to look at her. She gripped his jacket lapel and pulled herself up, fastening her mouth over his. Isabelle’s lips were open and her tongue searched for his, licking the sheen of herself from his lips and cheek as he kissed her back.

“You like tasting yourself…” he murmured between kisses.

“Yes,” she sighed, locking her lips again on his. “But now I want to taste you.”

Thomas needed no further request. He stood and shrugged off his jacket as she scooted around on his desk to lie on her side. Her face was level with his crotch. She pressed her hand against it, molding her fingers around the outline of his rigid shaft. Her fingers began to work his fly, and he unfastened his belt as she opened his pants and dug her hand under the waistband of his boxers. She lifted him out and, for a moment, watched her hand slide slowly up and down his naked erection. Then she let go, looking at his cock pointing unsupported at the ceiling, a vision of pure male lust bobbing softly before her face. Thomas’ hand caressed her face, letting his thumb slide between her lips. She sucked it briefly, then gripped his cock again and opened her mouth. He groaned as her lips passed over the length of his cock, only closing when he was halfway inside her mouth. She sucked slowly, drawing back to the tip, and rolled her tongue over the swollen, spongy head. Her lips slid underneath to suck at the tiny strip of sensitive skin as her hand slowly pumped up and down the length of his shaft. He let his fingers roll softly over the point of one nipple that pressed hard against her sheer dress, and she opened again to suck him deep into her mouth.

 

[Lady_Kit]

She loved the feel of him in her mouth, the hard thick shaft that stretched her lips wide, and length that pressed against the back of her throat; then went beyond. Had he pressed? Had she greedily sucked him in so deep?

Isabelle gave good head, the long deep-throated cock sucking that men loved. Especially the men who were as well endowed as Thomas; in her experience, most women took a pass on sucking anything bigger than a lipstick tube; Thomas was definitely bigger than that! God, she could hardly wait to feel him inside her aching pussy, but first things first. Here before her was a lovely hard cock, just begging to be sucked, and she was just the girl to do it.

Her hand and mouth bobbed up and down in unison, covering his shaft from base to tip with warm wet strokes. He groaned, she was encouraged and aroused by the sound. Isabelle raised her eyes to look at his face. She half expected his gaze to be locked on the attentions being paid to his manhood, but Thomas wasn’t looking at anything at all. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed tight. He was a focused on his pleasure as she had been upon hers. Isabelle smiled, a man who knew how to give and receive pleasure was a treat. As her tongue licked up and down his shaft, rubbing circles around the head, she wished had hours for this, but her pussy ached to be fucked. The fingering she’d just had plus the excitement she felt from sucking his cock was making her cunt drip with need.

Sit down, Thomas. There’s something you should know about me, before we go any further.

He slowly sat down in the leather desk chair. She watched hungrily as his cock stood straight up from his body. Isabelle stood and removed her dress. Since neither shoes nor stockings were an impediment to what she planned next, she left them on.

“You don’t say?”

Yes, I do, actually. You’ll find that I’m not like the little Park Avenue women you’re used to, I’m much more straightforward. No holds bared to get what I want. Or do the job I’ve been given. Do you understand what I mean?

“Oh, I think so. I think we understand each other very well. The one thing I don’t know at the moment is; what do you want?”

His voice was calm and in complete contrast to the hard twitching shaft that pointed up from his hips. Isabelle looked at his cock, letting her gaze linger until Thomas was sure to understand her meaning, then she looked him in the eye and moved forward. Contact with his face was never broken, even when she straddled his lap and began to lower her body over his. When the tip of his cock touched the wet lips of her pussy she paused,

You

she said softly, then took him inside.

 

[captainb]

His jaws clenched as she enveloped him. She was either tight or clenching her muscles as she slowly lowered herself onto him, but the effect was the same. She rose and fell an inch at a time, impaling herself further with each downstroke. His hands rested lightly on her thighs, letting her set the pace.

Isabelle’s body was magnificent. The faint lights from Manhattan filtered through the smoky penthouse windows, dimly illuminating her hair and shoulders, while the rest of her naked body was bathed in a soft shadowed blue from the room’s subtle lights. Her nipples cast dark, erect shadows on her skin, the swoops and curves of her form melding into the dark joining of their loins. She held the round muscles of his shoulders, leaning forward to let her breasts graze against his chest as she rotated her hips. Thomas’s hands slid around to cup her butt, gripping each cheek firmly as he began to pull her up and down, his strength adding to her tempo. She brought her face close to his, her mouth parted. He kissed her lips, their tongues slipping out to be sucked in turn.

“No holds barred, right?” he whispered. She nodded and pulled herself down hard, grunting as his cock thudded deep inside her. She squeezed him, her pelvic muscles kneading his cock like a well-oiled vice. “Yes,” he panted. “I see you do get what you want.” He suddenly grabbed her ass and kicked the chair back as he stood upright. She cried out as he stood, supporting her full weight with his hands, his cock buried completely inside her. He set her on the edge of the desk and leaned forward, her body falling back onto the cool smooth surface. Without preamble, he swiftly withdrew almost completely, then slammed himself fully into her. Isabelle groaned and clung to his arms, and he repeated the movement, driving his cock deeply into her with each stroke. His pace increased, fueled by the soft rotating bounce of her breasts. Her ankles locked around his back, pulling him into her, and she dropped one hand to feel his cock sliding in and out and her cunt.

“That’s what you want,” he grunted. A sweet, decadent smile covered her face in response. “But what I really want to know…” He drove himself into her, fucking her as hard and deep as he could. “What job were you given? What is so important that gives you the right to take advantage of me?”

[SLAM] His face hovered over hers, their skin glistening in the cool office air. “What are you after? [SLAM] What are you looking for? [SLAM] What more do you want out of me than [SLAM] just [SLAM] my [SLAM] cock?”

 

[Lady_Kit]

What more do I want? Nothing more than your cock. Nothing more than the your hard cock.

He laughed triumphantly and she realized that she'd said that aloud.

"I’m flattered, [SLAM] but there must be more than that. [SLAM]Well, if I can't drive the truth from you, [SLAM] maybe it can be coaxed."

Thomas withdrew his wet shaft from Isabelles throbbing cunt. She whimpered once then laid back with a sigh.

You know who I am Thomas and what I do. Unless you aren't the man that my reports say you are.

Isabelle raised her upper body till she on the edge of the desk. She crossed her long legs, clenching her thighs to stop the trembling between them, and focused on Thomas’ face. The length of his cock bobbing between them was a distraction, but she pressed forward with the answer to his question, figuring she might was well get this conversation over with, then, hopefully, she could get back to that orgasm she was about to achieve.

I'm here to learn something about a man who builds business empires and collects Egyptian art as a hobby. But, as I said, I’m sure you know who I am. So I’ll return your question with one of my own. Why did you want me to be here?

 

[captainb]

He stroked the line of Isabelle’s jaw. “Why did I want you to be here?” he repeated, almost to himself. “Because you think I’m not the man you see. Because you have something to prove to yourself, that your instincts are always right, that someone like me isn’t worth the risk of truly opening yourself up for.”

Thomas’ hand slid behind her neck. Gripping her hair, he forced her to her feet. His cock scraped across her belly as he looked down at her. “You don’t always have all the answers,” he whispered. “Sometimes you don’t even know the question.” He spun her around, hand still twisted in her hair, and propelled her toward the corner window. Her hands shot out in fright as he pushed her hard against the glass, her breasts flattening across the cold surface. His body pressed against her back. The bottom-lit void between buildings was an inch away from her face. His teeth traced from her shoulder to neck, looking past her wide eyes to the scene beyond. The rigid shaft of his cock pointed up firmly between her ass cheeks.

“Here we are, Isabelle,” he breathed into her ear. “Voyeurs of the world. Naked, blatant, exposed to the entire city, our bodies glowing with sweat and lust, all the lights of the city shining on us. Can you feel their eyes on you? Do you sense their jaws dropping open at the sight of your lewd nudity?” He slipped a hand between them, reaching under her ass to slide his fingers roughly along her sex. Two fingers dipped between the wet, loose folds to splay her open, and his middle finger circled around the inner pink hole. “Do you see them looking up at you, your cunt spread wide with my fingers inside you?”

“Yes….”

He drew his hand back and pushed down on his cock, sliding it between her thighs to nestle at the wet entrance and, with clenched teeth, pushed forward. She groaned as it slid into her pussy, its head pressing against the wall just behind her clit. “You’re wrong,” he said, withdrawing slightly and pushing back again, sinking fully into her. “They’re clueless, blind, unable to see the truth even when it splashes in front of them. They see what they want to see, what they expect to see. There isn’t a soul in this entire city, none within sight of this window, who has a clue that we are here, that you are spread naked with a cock in your cunt, being fucked in front of eight million people who see nothing beyond the tip of their red noses.”

“How can you… be so… cynical?” she gasped.

“I’m a realist,” he grunted. The window vibrated under their rhythmic weight. “I don’t hate them, I don’t care about them. I’m out to please myself and those few who really understand. To prove what they are. But I don’t care if they know it or not.”

“You talk too much.” Isabelle pushed her ass back hard, sliding one hand down to rub her clit.

 

[Lady_Kit]

and I’m not interested in philosophy. Especially now. Right now, I just want you to fuck me. Hard. Deep. And Repeatedly.

Thomas laughed and swung her back around to face the massive desk. One hand between her shoulders pushed her upper body down onto the cold hard surface. His other slid around her waist; lifted her hips up and back to meet the first hard thrust of his cock as it slid deep into her dripping cunt.

“We’re both cynics Isabelle, you hunt down thieves for money, not justice. Because your bosses pay you, not out of any sense of civil duty. And I, well, I simply do as I choose.”

Her breath left her in a rush and all she could do was brace herself against the desk and hang on for the ride. She’d be bruised and aching tomorrow, but it would be worth it. Hell, it already was and at least as far as she was concerned, they were just getting started.

The walls of her pussy clenched, squeezing tight around the hot shaft being driven into her cunt. The rhythm was hard and fast She lifted her ass, begging for more with her body, then crying out.

Yes! Fuck me, fuck me, Thomas…I want to feel you cum inside me.

Oh..God..oh oh oh OH!

The flush started between her breasts and spread to every cell in her body. Thomas buried himself deep inside her and held her pinned against his pelvis, holding her impaled upon his cock as the first orgasmic wave touched Isabelle. The flush was met with a hot rush of sensation that coiled out from her cunt, making her muscles first clench, then after an eternity, relax. Only to start over when Thomas again started to move.

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll come, but as my father always taught me.

Ladies [slam]First!”

 

[captainb]

He gripped the round globes of Isabelle’s ass and drove himself hard into her. Hard and fast, fucking her now in a pure fury of driven lust. He brought his hand down hard, delighted in the gasp that greeted the stinging smack, and he did the same to her other ass cheek. He felt the tips of her fingers brush against his balls as she rubbed her pussy frantically, his shaft sliding between her fingers and the pink, liquid lips of her cunt. Thomas reached forward and wrapped his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back as he rode her hard. She cried out and her body shook under his thrusts. He felt a wetness that was not sweat slithering down his balls to his thighs, and grinned with delight as another orgasm wracked her.

Her breath came in moans and gasps, and only when she started to slow did his pace follow. He leaned over her back and licked along her shoulder blade, tasting the salty sweat. His breath touched her ear. “Now I have something to show you, my dear.” His cock throbbed powerfully inside her. “Would you like me to share a secret?”

Her breathing slowed by a fraction, and the one eye he could see looked up at him. “I live for secrets,” she purred, bearing down hard on the rigid shaft still buried inside her.

He leaned over and picked up the black TV remote control, holding it near her face. “Don’t worry, we’re not watching CNN,” he said unnecessarily. His finger danced over the buttons, making no attempt to hide which he pressed. A soft sound at the other side of the room drew her attention, and she pushed up onto her elbows as a small square of blue light was revealed.

She looked back at him from under her hair. “An empty box?” she murmured, rotating her ass against him. “Ironic, yes, but hardly a secret worth keeping.”

He slowly withdrew, and she gave a small noise of disappointment as the tip slid from her pussy. Isabelle turned to face him, running her fingers along the wet length of his cock, causing it to jump. His hand slid around her throat and he pulled her forward into a kiss. Their tongues washed against each other, and she caught his and sucked hard, only letting go when his fingers pinched an erect nipple with equal strength. “Empty now,” he whispered, his hands pushing down on her shoulders. She dropped to her knees, looking up at him as her tongue teased along her lips just inches from his cock. “But what it recently held, ahh Isabelle, that’s a secret that is truly worth the price.”