Vincent stood to kiss her, taking the still fastened garter on his finger through her dress, now for the other one as he repeated the exact process from her foot to the top of her stocking tracing its outline along her skin, removing the front then tracing up her thigh to the space in between placing a soft hand on her teasing before removing the back garter deciding while he was there to remove the belt letting it fall as he lowered his hands with the stocking in hand, placing it on the coffee table folded neatly with the first. The Latin’s heart was racing as his deliberate pace, and undaunted intentions, he was going to enjoy every second he had with her and wanted to make certain she did the same, Nadrea looked on with aroused interest, calculating how she could find her way in to the festivities.
Vincent kissed her again and again unbuttoning her blouse, unclasping her bra as he fondled her breasts and ass. Her state of excitement rising he whispered in her ear. The Latin squealed with true delight, stepping back but her shirt still draped from her shoulders, the lace brazier failing to support her but covering her ample chest, preserving some sense of modesty for the moment. Vincent stepped away walking toward Nadrea. Nadrea’s mind raced at the possibilities as he kissed her she reclined briefly defying gravity and an entire host of scientific laws as she still was leaning against the table. His confidence in how he touched Nadrea was firmer than how he touched the Latin. He guided her to her feet, taking cues from her body as to what she was looking for. Nadrea’s eyes filled with lust was imagining the fun she was about to have with Vincent and the Latin, after all why else would he leave an aroused half dressed woman to pay attention to her. He then resorted to the exact same thing he had done just minutes earlier, removing her shoes then Nadrea sat back on the table extending her long tone legs wide. Balancing on the edge of the table Vincent removed the garter from the front of her right leg, letting it’s elastic contract before his left hand stroked her inner thigh, moving ever so slightly higher until her worked his way around to the back of her thigh, tracing the line of the elastic from where it was fastened to the garter up and across her bottom to its end point on the belt and back down the other side. Her unclipped the stocking and began the slow journey back down Nadrea’s leg. Before moving to the left leg and repeating the entire procedure. This time Nadrea suggestively pressed herself into Vincent’s teasing hands increasing the pressure of his touch on her skin, firm but gentle friction as his hands moved.
After removing the second stocking Vincent stood and removed Nadrea’s shirt pinching her nipples and cupping her breasts in his hands. She moaned in delight while the Latin just watched as Nadrea’s mind swam in delightful anticipation. Vincent kissed her deeply while unfastening her skirt. Soon she was standing there in nothing but her G string with its suggestive words and a garter belt. The Latin moved taking a chair from the table across the room past the couch and placed it three feet to the right of the TV. The chair’s vantage point allowed a great view of the living room and dining area in the suite, its angle allowed only a glimpse into part of the bedroom directly and another small section through the reflection in the mirror. The Latin sat in the chair, her skirt growing ever more askew, her blouse still draped open and her unfastened bra now barely covering any of her chest. So as Vincent entertained Nadrea by having her stand up and leading her toward the Latin who was subtly adjusting the chair, an inch or two to the right, the a counter clockwise rotation to position the prevue of the occupant.
As Vincent and Nadrea made their way to the chair, the Latin stood giggled and then stepped back a few feet. Nadrea excused the giggles as her assumed soon to be lover’s nervous anticipation, a thought that delighted her all the more. Vincent stepped away from Nadrea engulfing the Latin in his arms as he kissed her then whispering into her ear once more. His head partially hidden by her long flowing dark locks and again she giggled, once more assumed to be a nervous giggle by Nadrea who was watching as the Latin removed her blouse, sliding her bra off in the same almost school girl kind of motion. The Latin stood in front of Nadrea allowing her to admire her full firm breasts as she removed her skirt now clad in only a soft white thong with lace trim. Nadrea couldn’t wait to touch her. Vincent had drifted behind the chair his hands resting on its back. “Sit down” the Latin told Nadrea.
“Why?” Nadrea asked playfully delighting at her anticipated interlude.
“Because that is how we want you” the Latin replied as Nadrea eased back into her seat and Vincent began to grope her. The Latin gathered Nadrea’s stockings as well as her own and returned to the chair to find a fully engorge Vincent standing over a lust filled seated Nadrea.
“Do as she says” Vincent offers before making room for the Latin to approach.
Vincent thought you might like this” she said to Nadrea who was most certain of course of the impending events, after all why else would they have stopped their own interaction to tend to her?
“I’m sure I will” Nadrea replied her eyes focused on the Latin her scent of lavender and sex becoming the true scent and sensation of growing arousal.
“Sit on the front edge of the chair” Nadrea moved eagerly forward.
“Should I take these off?” a reference to her last few stitches of cloth covering her.
“Not yet, we’ll get to that.” The Latin replied. “Now put your hands behind you crossing one arm over the other and hold on the base at the back of the chair.”
As Nadrea reached back her chest was thrust forward in an exaggerated presentation. Her finger tips attempting grasp the base of the chair Vincent changed her hand position to be palms upward arms not crossed but side by side fingertips holding the metal bar at the bottom of the back on the chair, its cold metal a sharp contrast to her warm hands, the coolness of the metal warming with her prolonged touch. The Latin leaned into her, Nadrea’s head pulled back beyond her heaving chest.
“Don’t move” she encouraged as the first silk stocking was wrapped tightly around her arms keeping them together, even if she had struggled against them the effort would have been futile. The second stocking secured her already bound arms to the chairs back, the metal now as flushed as her hands as the anticipation continued to build. Nadrea leaned back but the restraints forced her arms to the side her chest still projected forward when she reclined, sitting quite literally on the edge of the seat, her legs now straight forward spread wide with the Latin standing as far back as her ankles, pausing before stepping away. Vincent hadn’t spoken but guided her back to the position she was first in chest with increasingly erect nipple pushed forward, they were beyond alert they were had hardened so much the they ached, Nadrea delighted in the sensations knowing that soon they would be tended to. Her knees bent but spread wide with feet flat on the floor. The Latin was once again in front Nadrea holding her shoes in her hands, “Now let’s put these back on.” Sliding a shoe on to each foot the angle exposing her still covered portion just a little more. The Latin kneeled in front of her, taking her left ankle and placing it back behind the front leg of the chair. Vincent took the third stocking and drew the leg even farther backwards looking the stocking around her ankle then around the back leg of the chair, Nadrea swooned in ecstasy even though the only contact she could feel was Vincent’s hands on her lower leg, the shoe rubbing the foot in an unnatural way, her hands hopelessly bound behind her. A few moments later her left right leg was in the same awkward uncomfortable, completely exposing position.
“Can you move?” The Latin inquired.
“Barely” Nadrea answered, delighting in her helplessness, her body on display, the anticipation still growing, as Vincent came around from behind her, wrapping his arms around the Latin, Nadrea watching as they kissed, his touch becoming familiar and calculated as Vincent took his queues from the Latin’s movements, moans and whimpers. “A little help here dear.” he suggested so his state of undress needed to be progressed. Soon Vincent’s arms and chest were bathed in candle light his muscles still large and powerful were mostly un-flexed as he enjoyed the
touch of his newest companion disrobing him.
Vincent approached his restrained lover, reaching between her legs to caress her. Nadrea moaned in ecstasy, with each touch.
“You’re over dressed.” Vincent said looking into Nadrea’s eyes. He placed both hands on her g-string pulling it tighter then tearing it off with vicious force. It was always a favorite of Nadrea to have her clothes literally torn off of her body, and while she missed the sound of the buttons popping off of her shirt and hitting the floor, the sound of the cloth ripping to reveal her skin was good enough. Sure those long favored elements were missing but there was something new and savage about the force that Vincent had dismantled her last remaining garment with.
“Did you like that?” Vincent asked.
“I always have.” Nadrea answered.
“Then let me know how you like this.” Vincent took her breasts in his hands firmly, Nadrea moaning with delight as his hand squeezed tighter and tighter.
“Delightful” Nadrea responded, her head drawn back, back arched and chest thrust even further forward than before. Vincent removed his touch and Nadrea looked longingly at him. He reengaged with the Latin then turning to Nadrea “Tell me how you like this.” Vincent led her into the next room where Nadrea couldn’t see a thing except for the occasional shadow and the sounds of pleasure as the Latin verbalized her delight in two languages over and over again for the next two hours before reappearing to find a frustrated still tied to the chair little socialite. Dressing herself “Good night Nadrea” was offered as the Latin left the room. Nadrea responded back “At least it was for one of us”.
Vincent reappeared, he sat on the couch and looked at Nadrea.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“I was until you left the room.”
Vincent laughed. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”
Nadrea may have been tied to the chair and left frustrated but as Vincent untied her she saw and took advantage of the opportunity to not leave the Hotel aroused and un-serviced. So for Vincent round two began.
Friday in Gotham
For Nadrea the time passed particularly quickly, her mind filled with tempting delights and perverted curiosities of last night. During the day Nadrea’s things were delivered to Vincent’s room at the W. They were once again unpacked, repressed and steamed then hung in the dark armoire with care. Like color pallets grouped together, filling the cabinet.
As the day wore on Nadrea toiled away, but by 2:00 Vincent had wrapped up his business headed out to the gym for some cardio before returning to the W for a quick nap. As Vincent entered the cardio theater, a dimly lit room the scent of antiseptic mixing with sweat and pure unadulterated stench associated with physical exertion, small red and green colored lights bathing the users in their soft glow mixed with flashes of chrome and the occasional reflective strip on a running shoe. People pushing themselves forward with great effort but without advancing even an inch, running and pedaling faster and faster, the increasing speed and velocity. Their heaving breaths combined with a sea of salty sweat pouring off their heated bodies, the sting of sweat soon to be pouring off of Vincent’s brow that had been slathered with Vaseline in order to direct the outcome of his efforts down the side of his face away from his eyes as his own salty stream flowed over his cheeks before it crossed his jaw and dripped onto his massive chest and arms. Vincent joined the cloned headset adorned masses in the darkness, staring like drones at the television screens projecting one of millions available images from their cathode ray tubes and LCD panels at forty three frames per second on each of hundreds of channels.
Steve followed suit back in DC by beginning to wrap up his daytime existence at 4:30, the remainder of his public day would be spent inconspicuously fumbling behind a wooden bar serving drinks to strangers. He would shift from the real world of large complex numbers to disregarding micro measurements for approximate quantities producing relatively the same cocktail in taste and content, but it was not at all scientific. The libations while unidentifiably different were not at all to his exacting mathematical standards. So he stood behind the bar in his relatively thankless position and seeming to possess an inferior intellect would struggle to quickly produce libations while parched patrons patiently placate themselves with pleasant conversation.
The Husker stopped by for a drink, Christy had herself firmly planted in tow. She was like a jealous child who was futilely attempting to hold his attention completely undivided until of course Donna arrived.
“Robert!” Steve exclaims thrilled to see a friendly face. “How are you doing”
Robert returns a warm smile “I’m doing well. How have you been?”
Pointing to a growing list of drink tickets, “Behind as always.”
Steve had not yet gotten to the point of laughing at his own inept abilities. Christy rolling her eyes dreading the seemingly eternal wait asked “Can we order?” in a mocking tone.
Steve didn’t take it that way “Sure nice to see you again.”
Steve’s evening was getting brighter.
“Fume Blanc” she barked at him before Robert added “and a Grey Goose Martini please.”
Soon Christy began to press Robert for his weekend’s schedule.
“Brunch on Sunday”.
She pressed again with a scorned tone “Really?”
The Husker’s irritation was growing, but he didn’t let it show. Her presses, the intrusion, the unwanted inquires continued and he again side stepped her, in true political fashion, repeating the question, then provided a noncommittal answer. The drinks arrived quickly, being a known face most often has its advantages, this case was no exception. Steve was still miserably behind but as was always the case persistence pays off and he began to catch up as orders for wine by the glass, and beer started coming in rather than the complex cocktails that require the ability to mix the right contents into a glass, making his life moderately more bearable. Donna who was not running late but was thirty feet away at the other end of the crowded bar, they simply haven’t spotted each other yet. Donna looked impatiently at her phone to see if the Husker had called yet and began to wonder back toward the hostess stand in the vestibule but spotted him at the bar. The hair on the back of Donna’s neck stood up as she sees Christy, she can’t stand the sight of the nebby little bitch. An overzealous control freak nobody neb nose, who didn’t have sense enough to get out of the way of her impending doom. Like a deaf and blind man standing in the middle of the rail road tracks, feeling the vibrations as the train bears down on him but doesn’t move.
Donna in her evening attire, a dark, but casual dress approaches the pair and greets Christy with a warm hello before kissing Robert and placing herself firmly in between the pair. She was marking her territory becoming a shield between the woman who thought she controlled his life and the one who had unintentionally been gaining an influence over him. It was Donna who unlike Christy that never thought of it, control and influence had never been her intention. She was territorial, and while Donna gently placed her hand on the Husker’s back and he leaned in closer to her enjoying her touch and the gentle tickling sensations her hand was creating Christy’s displeasure became subtly evident.
Christy continued to regard Donna as nothing more than a set of holes for some distant male primal need and nothing more. A worthless concubine to be discarded at a later date, set aside like last elections campaigns slogans and promises. How could Donna be anything more to him than a tawdry plaything without intellect or value other than an outlet for Robert’s sexual release? Despite her hopes and intentions Christy saw that woman, no matter how polite and well dressed, as a symbol of nothing more than Robert’s innate undeniable maleness. Something that almost always surfaced even in the best intentioned men of power and influence, was lust and sexual conquest not for the biological need it fulfilled or the pleasure it derived but for the possession and power that such acts could convey.
During the same time in NY Nadrea was retrieving her hotel key f
rom the front desk of the office. Her parent’s housekeeper had it messengered over after her clothes had been delivered and unpacked. Soon after she joined the crushing masses on the Friday afternoon street in lower Manhattan, the working class mingling with the wealthy and tourists on the streets of the city. She was trying to do the nearly impossible, catch a cab during the late Friday afternoon rush. The only thing that would have made it worse was if it had been raining. This was one of those times where wealth and looks had little to do with ones chances of success, instead it was like winning the lottery jackpot, nothing more than pure random luck that an empty cab would stop.
Back in DC the bar crowd had begun to thin as tables were turned from the first dinner seating and in large part the cocktail crowd scurried from their work lives to their family lives, their wallets a little bit lighter, a few new off color out of the office stories to tell to friends and family over the weekend like the little gossips that the professional world creates. Steve finally got a chance to drift back to the Husker, Donna, and Christy to talk. “Good night for tips?” Christy asked cutting off the otherwise polite conversation, an attempt to demean Steve.
It Had Been Years Page 22