Foreign Affairs

by Antonia Adams

  Instead, I pulled out a tissue-thin, azure blue and cream skirt. Perfectly respectable, unless you looked close enough to realise that it was almost see through.

  I picked up some clean underwear, the boring, sensible, white cotton stuff Tony had always liked. Then I looked again at the skirt.

  A skirt like that didn’t deserve boring underwear.

  I shoved the knickers back in my case.

  Pulling on a matching azure halter-neck, I fluffed my wavy blonde hair over my shoulders, applied just enough make-up to make me glow, and strapped my feet into high, shiny silver sandals. A spritz of perfume and I felt irresistible. I felt Lucky again.

  ‘Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes,’ Jamie said as I made my way down the stairs, his gaze running across my body, lingering at the point where my skirt pulled across the top of my thighs before flaring out.

  My heart thumped time with my steps as I made my way down the rest of the stairs. ‘You were waiting for me?’

  Jamie wrapped his arms around my waist again, tight and wonderful. ‘All my life.’ One hand wandered a little lower than might have been considered appropriate for public, but this was Jamie. It was just who he was.

  I smiled at him, happy to be with my friend again. ‘So, have you sussed out where we can get a drink yet?’

  Jamie raised an eyebrow, as if to say, “have you forgotten who you’re dealing with here?” ‘Follow me, my lady.’

  Maria had set one of the front reception areas up as a bar, complete with bartender. She gave me a knowing smile as Jamie and I grabbed drinks and curled up on a window seat, looking out over the beautifully manicured gardens, but she had too many relatives to entertain to interrupt us. The window seat was tiny, and my legs were crammed right up against the thin, black fabric of Jamie’s dress trousers. It was strange to see him out of jeans and T-shirts, but he sure did scrub up well.

  ‘So,’ he said, resting one hand on my leg, his fingers warm through the thin material. ‘Tell me what happened.’

  I blinked at him. ‘What happened with me? What happened with you? I thought you were off travelling the world for the foreseeable future.’

  Jamie shrugged, and the action made his fingers curl slightly into the flesh of my thigh. I bit my lip at the pressure, and crossed my legs.

  ‘There’s only so much world to see,’ he said, his thumb stroking my inner thigh. ‘Besides, Maria called and asked me to come back for the wedding. Said she needed her best man.’

  I tilted my head and gave him the look that always used to make him give up his secrets, when we were students. Apparently it still worked, because he laughed lightly and said, ‘Oh, all right then. She told me that Tony was an idiot, you were single, and I should come home and cheer you up.’

  Just hearing that cheered particular parts of my body up immensely. Jamie had only ever had one way of improving my mood.

  Maybe I could be Lucky Lucy again. Just for one night.

  ‘So basically, you came all the way to Italy because of me.’

  A smile started to spread across his lips, and his thumb inched further up. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘All the way from ... New Zealand, was it?’ He nodded, and my smile grew. ‘Just to get me naked.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ His thumb stroked a little higher, almost to the point where my thighs met at the top. I glanced out across the room, but no one was paying us any attention; they were all too taken with Maria, and John, and the free bar.

  ‘Halfway across the world, just to sleep with me again.’ I met his eyes as I spoke, and watched them go dark as he answered, ‘God, yes.’ Finally, finally, he shifted his thumb down between my legs and the pressure on my clit through the fabric was intensified by my crossed legs, keeping everything tight and tense. I shuddered involuntarily at the feeling. It had been far, far too long since any fingers other than my own had touched me there.

  But before I could revel in the experience properly, Maria clapped her hands in the doorway, and summoned us all in to dinner. Jamie gave me a regretful smile, and pulled his hand away, grabbing mine and tugging me to my feet.

  ‘Better get a good meal in you,’ he whispered as he led me into the dining room. ‘You’re going to need your energy for tonight.’

  I don’t know who was in charge of the seating arrangements that night, but it clearly wasn’t Maria, as Jamie and I were seated at opposite ends of the table. I itched, under my skin, all through the meal, just waiting to get him alone and inside me again.

  It had been years, and right then it felt like forever. Jamie was, hands down, the best fuck I’d ever had. He knew what I liked, had taken the time to learn, to ask, to question, through long summer afternoons in my bedroom, or cold winter nights in front of the fire in the lounge of our little shared house, long after Maria had gone to bed. I could remember, in exquisite detail, the way his tongue swirled around my clit. The way his fingers felt, curling into me, like they’d been so close to doing sitting on that window seat. The way he bent me over the sofa in front of the fire and fucked me until I almost passed out with the pleasure.

  I knew, without a doubt, that one night with Jamie would shake me out of the funk I’d been in ever since Tony left.

  But apparently, I was going to have to wait.

  As we finished up the dessert, all surely wondering why we had to sit through speeches at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding, Maria appeared over my left shoulder and said, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What on earth for?’

  Maria winced. ‘John wants to take Jamie out with the other lads for a last minute stag do in the town tonight.’

  I glared at her. ‘Tell him my need is greater.’

  ‘I would, but ...’ Maria bit her lip. ‘Turns out my cousin Stacey’s planned a surprise girlie night in for me here, too. I need you there.’

  Maria hates her cousin Stacey. Chances were, the evening would be an orgy of pink drinks and painting each others’ nails. Maria and I would both rather be in the town drinking with the lads, I was sure. But apparently that wasn’t an option.

  ‘You owe me,’ I said, grudgingly.

  Maria flashed me a smile. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I promise.’

  I looked up across the table, and saw my own frustration mirrored in Jamie’s face.

  Tomorrow, he mouthed at me, before he followed John out the door.

  Apparently, the resurrection of Lucky Lucy was going to have to wait another day.

  The morning of the wedding dawned bright and warm, the Tuscan sun beating down on the flagstones of the courtyard where the guests congregated, sipping bucks fizz and eating canapé sized breakfast pastries.

  It was the biggest day of my best friend’s life, and all I could think about was my own problems.

  It had seemed so simple last night. One more night as Lucky Lucy. But in the morning light... Could I really do it? Could I really be that person again?

  ‘Where’s Jamie?’ Maybe if I saw him, I’d know the right thing to do.

  ‘I think he’s helping John get ready this morning,’ Maria said, emerging from her bathroom. ‘They seem to have become fast friends over too much grappa in the tavernas last night.’

  Rifling through one of the deep drawers of her antique dresser, Maria pulled out a shiny silver gift bag. ‘I’ve got a present for you.’

  ‘Isn’t it traditional for the groom to give presents to the bridesmaids in the toasts?’ I sat down on the bed, curious.

  ‘You’ll get one of those, too. This is just from me to you.’ She gave me a mischievous smile as she sat beside me and handed over the bag. ‘Besides, you’ll need it before then.’

  Eyebrows raised, I pulled out an exquisite, obviously expensive, lace corset, with suspender straps and silk stockings. I blinked. It was beautiful. And far, far sexier than anything I’d worn in the last three years. I loved it.

  Then I realised … ‘No knickers?’

  Maria shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you’d need them. Besides ...’ She wrappe
d her arms around my shoulders. ‘I think it’s time to find the old Lucy again, don’t you? The one who was always far too good for an idiot like Tony, anyway.’

  And suddenly, I felt like that Lucy again. The one who knew how to cut loose, how to have fun, how to be herself, not the Lucy someone else wanted. And I knew there was no way in hell I was waiting until the party was over to get Jamie inside me.

  Lucky Lucy was back.

  ‘I think you’re absolutely right,’ I said, hugging Maria. ‘Thank you.’

  Maria chuckled. ‘Well, now I’m going to be old and married, I figure I’ll have to live vicariously through you.’

  ‘That’s not going to be a problem,’ I promised.

  The wedding ceremony itself was held in the villa’s extensive gardens, the sultry scent of wild flowers floating in on the breeze from the meadows beyond. Maria looked stunning, of course, and I’m sure the ceremony was beautiful. But to be honest, from the moment I followed her down the grassy aisle, all I could see was Jamie, dark hair curling over the collar of his suit jacket, his hands in his pockets as he stood, pulling the fabric of his trousers tight over that fantastic arse. Then, when he spotted me, the wicked, wanting smile he gave me as his eyes took in my strapless lavender dress.

  I smiled back, as serenely as I could manage. Just wait until he got a look at what was underneath.

  The vows and such are a complete blur in my memory. Instead, I remember the way my stockings brushed together as I shifted, and the feel of my bare bottom under the satin of my dress. How naughty I felt, standing knickerless up at the altar. The way my pussy moistened as Jamie’s eyes lingered on the very low neckline of my dress. The way the sun made my skin so warm, and my mood so languorous. The daydream I indulged in of dragging Jamie off to that meadow of wildflowers, lying him down and climbing onto his beautiful hard cock and riding him for hours in the sunshine.

  But mostly, I remember the moment I spotted the summer house.

  It sat a decent distance away from the main house, far enough, I was sure, that you couldn’t see it from any of the reception rooms. It was on the edge of the meadow, slightly hidden by a row of Cypress trees. And yes, OK, it had huge windows on all four sides, making up most of the walls, but probably no one would come looking for us, right?

  It was perfect for a Tuscan afternoon rendezvous. And, I told myself as Maria slipped a ring onto John’s hand, it was exactly what the old Lucy, Maria’s Lucy, Jamie’s Lucy – Lucky Lucy – would do.

  Of course, Maria was still my best friend and I wasn’t about to ruin her special day by absconding half way through the proceedings. So I posed and smiled for the photos, made polite chit chat in the receiving line, and pushed my food around my plate, all with Jamie’s gaze heating my blood from across the room.

  But by the time I’d swallowed a couple of mouthfuls of chocolate torte and considerably more wine, I was done. There were only the speeches left to go and, honestly, I’d heard enough of those at the rehearsal dinner.

  Maria was off circulating with her guests, so I couldn’t ask for her blessing. But since she’d given me the damn corset, I was pretty sure I had it. I politely and demurely excused myself from the top table – Tony would have been so proud – then caught Jamie’s eye and smiled.

  That was all it took. As I let myself out of the side door, I already knew he was following me. And as the door clunked shut behind us, taking the noise and the chatter of the wedding party with it, his hand wrapped around my waist, warm and possessive and lovely.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he asked, tugging me against his side.

  I flashed him my best flirtatious smile. ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘Will I also see you naked?’

  I thought about the corset. It would be criminal to waste the corset. ‘Maybe not entirely.’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘I’ll take what I can get, since I guess we don’t have too long before we’re missed.’

  I nodded. ‘I hope you still work well under pressure.’

  ‘Just try me.’

  It only occurred to me as I led Jamie up the wooden steps to the summer house that it might be locked. Luckily, it seemed that Lucky Lucy’s powers still held, because not only did the door open easily under my hand, but what we found inside was just perfect for a lazy afternoon’s seduction.

  I looked up at Jamie and watched the smile spread across his face as he took in the daybed in the middle of the little wooden room, piled high with cushions and throws. The stand full of umbrellas and stack of board games on top of the cupboard that sat either side of the door suggested that the summer house was more usually used as a wet weather shelter.

  The sun still blazed down outside. No one would be coming here to escape from the rain today. And I had a much better use for the room.

  Jamie gave a little shove to the small of my back and said, ‘Get on the bed. I’ve been dreaming of stripping this dress off you all day.’

  I obeyed, a frisson of heat thrumming through my blood as I imagined his reaction to Maria’s gift. I leant back on my hands, and Jamie prowled forward, his hands on the zip at the side of my dress almost before he was standing between my legs.

  The lavender fabric fell away from my body, and Jamie groaned as the lacy cups of the corset came into view, holding my breasts high and full. In one swift moment, he had me pressed back against the pile of cushions. I sank into the softness, letting my head fall back as Jamie’s clever mouth kissed its way down my throat to the curve of my breasts, then tugged down the cups to let my nipples free.

  A moan escaped my mouth as he sucked the first one in, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, pulling too much blood into it until it throbbed. Then he let it go with a pop, grinned at me, and repeated the move on the other side.

  My breasts ached from the attention, even as he flicked his tongue over the too sensitive flesh, sending shudders of pleasure through my body, directly down to my clit. If we’d had the time, I’d have let him carry on all day. As it was ...

  ‘You know, this outfit gets even better further down.’ My words were breathy, desperate, and Jamie raised an eyebrow at them.

  ‘Does it now?’ His hands swept down over the lace covering my sides, making me shiver, and pushed the dress over my hips. ‘Oh, yes,’ he breathed, as the lavender fabric puddled at my feet, revealing the full glory of my corset, stockings, no knickers combination. ‘It really, really does.’

  Dropping to his knees between my legs, Jamie wrapped his arms around my thighs, kissing the exposed skin just above my stockings. He ran his tongue up to my hip, tracing the line where my leg meets my body, then swapped sides, tasting the skin of my other leg. And in the middle, my pussy throbbed, ached, soaked through and desperate for attention.

  ‘Please,’ I begged, and he laughed against the curls covering my mound.

  ‘Patience,’ he said, but he started to kiss lower, his mouth mostly closed against my pussy, just enough pressure to make me need more, urgently.

  Then, finally, his tongue darted out, parting my lips, tasting me for the first time in years. ‘You’re still so sweet,’ he murmured, and the vibration of his voice made all the muscles in my stomach tense.

  There were no more words, after that. Jamie’s arms clamped around my legs, holding me tight up against his mouth. His clever, loving tongue swirled around my clit the same way it had my nipples, sucking it into his mouth until I had to pull a cushion to my mouth to keep from screaming. And when he stopped, it was only to dive deeper, his tongue plunging inside me, fucking me with all the dedication he would use with his cock. My body pulsed with the need to come, spiralling higher and higher until I thought I would break. Then, without warning, Jamie released my legs, sweeping his tongue up along the length of me, back to my clit. I gasped at the sensation, and he curled his fingers inside me, pressing up and in until I screamed into my cushion, my whole body arching up off the bed as I clenched and pulsed around his hand.

  ‘Oh God,’ I mumbled against t
he fabric as I sank back down.

  I heard Jamie laugh as he pulled away, and when I managed to open my eyes to peek, I realised he was still fully dressed. He glanced away, out of the window, and said, ‘Maria’s coming. Think we might have been a little longer than planned.’

  He held up my dress, and I looked at it in confusion. How could he possibly expect me to stand up, let alone dress myself, after that? ‘What about you?’ I asked.

  Jamie’s smile was wicked. ‘Trust me, I expect you to make it up to me later.’

  I grinned. ‘I will.’

  Lucky Lucy was back. And she loved weddings.

  New Orleans When It Rains by Maxim Jakubowski

  Some cities smell of diesel fumes, others of cats, and then there is the smell of the sea, or mown grass, or the sharp odour of curry cooking endlessly in basement flats, or again the acrid combination of industrial waste and low-hanging fog.

  New Orleans smells of spices, the humid twang of nearby Mississippi bayous and swamps and, in early morning, the unpleasant waft of stale beer on the Bourbon Street sidewalk following yet another night of drunkenness and minor-league bacchanalia before the high speed hoses complete their work and sweep away the detritus of the previous evening’s boisterous excesses. Mardi Gras adds yet another dimension of smells and spills and noise, or the Jazz Festival or New Year’s Eve when it can take almost a quarter of an hour to walk through the massed crowds from Jackson Square to the corner of Toulouse and Bourbon. A cocktail like no other.

  Even the music rising from bar to bar on each side of the street, battling for your attention, blues against jazz, show-tunes fighting hard rock, Broadway schmaltz wrestling with tentative folk melodies, it all seems to hold yet more fragrant promise of sensuality unbound.

  There is no place like New Orleans.

  And, year after year, I kept on coming back.

  It was a city that talked to me, whispered to me from faraway through to my European shores of melancholy and I would treat myself again to the long plane journey, with the customary stop-over in Chicago or Atlanta (and once Raleigh-Durham) to catch the right connection, arriving at Louis Armstrong Airport as night was falling, bone tired but my mind on fire, my senses waking with a sense of delight to the smells and sounds of the French Quarter.