The dance was a slow pavane, and my lips gently grazed her soft cheek. Beneath her black velvet cat-mask, eyelids fluttered. How comely she was, I whispered into her ear. My hand "accidentally" strayed somewhat down her bare back, and a rosy blush illuminated those fair features. Basic seduction technique, perhaps, but no doubt quite beyond anything Duckling would ever be capable of.
Later, much later, she still had not looked upon my naked face. We lay in each other's arms, cloaked in darkness, enjoying the afterglow . . . for the second time that night. By laying my lips upon hers -- the ones 'twixt her legs, to be sure -- I had gifted her with the Little Death (ladies first!), after which I'd taken her in the conventional sense, and her flesh had been sweet, achingly sweet. Afterward, satisfying her need -- as yet unvoiced, though no less urgent for that -- I had put myself into her other entrance, the tunnel leading to her deeper mystery. She cried out a name -- Duckling's name -- as she climaxed once more, and I kissed away tears of gratitude from her eyes.
Belatedly I realized that this was one classy lady . . . not to mention that she had a hell of a nice ass. And, she seemed to be developing something of a fondness for me. As I leaned over to give her a farewell kiss --
"I love you!" she cried. Uh-oh.
In that moment, I discovered that I was capable of being betrayed by my own damnable feelings. Suddenly, I wanted this woman, wanted her for my very own. Wanted her, and not just for an occasional tryst, not just for momentary pleasures of the flesh, but as a companion. I wanted her at my side as I awakened in the morning. I wanted her to sooth my weariness at the end of the day. I wanted her as my partner, my mate, my lover, and perhaps even more. . . .
Still, there was the matter of professional honor.
"Priscilla," I stammered, "Alas, I am not here on my own behalf. I act as a proxy for a client of mine. You might perhaps recognize his name, since his family is of the Four Hundred. He is a good man and true, Mr. Standish is, and he does profess his love for you."
"Speak for yourself, John Alden," she said.
So much for the offer and the proffer. She had penetrated my cover! You understand, this was back when I was a colonial history buff, long before I had adopted my current Carlos Malenkov persona. In that particular time and place, I went by the name of Alden -- yes, that John Alden, the one in Henry Wadsworth's poetic depiction.
With heavy heart, I lifted the heavy brass knocker.
"Listen, Miles, I'm giving you back the money. It didn't work out, and -- "
"What in the hell are you jabbering about, John? I have no complaints about your work. You've been trying to remodel me into a social creature, a guy who can prowl fearlessly through the urban jungle and pick up women at will. But, you know, when I think about the end result of the process -- the actual mechanics of taking a girlfriend to bed -- I get kind of queasy. And, you know what? I think I'm still a little too young for that sort of thing. Why don't we just leave matters lay for the present? You've certainly earned your fee, and here's an extra bonus. If I have further need of your services, I'll call you."
I shook my head in disbelief as I walked out of there. In a sense, I'd defrauded Standish. The guy was just as socially inept as when I'd taken him on as a client. My words had failed to do their magic, and my tutoring had failed to transform him. But, hey, he was happy and I had my pay, and very soon I'd have the greater prize as well.
Priscilla and I are still together, and we sometimes chuckle about our wild youth . . . and about that "mistaken identity" flimflam I'd tried to pull on her way back when.
Miles went on to do quite well for himself. . . aside from an embarrassing little incident when he and a couple of his buddies were arrested for a midnight joyride on State Highway Department earthmoving equipment. He's not just a commonplace millionaire now, he's one of the world's richest men. In fact, every time you turn on your computer, you'll see his company logo in stark blue-and-white: Standishsoft.
As for his love life, well, that's another story. Anyone with that much money, power and notoriety can get all the sex he wants. It was for a time rumored that he was regularly boffing his secretaries. In fact, he ended up marrying one of them. I hope he's happy, but . . . I have my doubts. If his lovemaking technique is as shabby as his computer operating system, then he's still in need of help. Badly in need.
GROWING OLD IS A BITCH
JadeMistress: And you say you've never been kissed?
g33kboy: Nope.
JadeMistress: Ever had a girlfriend?
g33kboy: I suppose u could call her that. But we never actually DID anything.
JadeMistress: And what exactly is it you expect of me?
g33kboy: Teach me! Show me! Show me what 10ve's all about. How 2 10ve and make 10ve. How 2 make 10ve to a real 1ive wom@n. How 2 . . . well, what I rea11y mean is . . .
JadeMistress: The Birds and the Bees is what I think you're getting at. What you want is a course in Fucking 101. Sorry, kid, didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You're not the first shy guy in that situation, and my heart goes out to you.
g33kboy: So, willya? Huh? Willya?
JadeMistress: Oh, grow up!
g33kboy: But willya?
JadeMistress: Will I what?
g33kboy: Teach me? Teach me?
JadeMistress: No promises, but . . .
He had met her in the chat room.
g33kboy: Help! Just turned 18 & still v1rg1n. Need 0lder wom@n 2 break me in & teach me. Teach me.
ziphed: L33tle b0y, r u 10nes0me 2nite?
s1kk0: A lapd0g who n33dz 2 be housebroken.
b1akjak: The sandb0x is thataway, tchump.
rumdum79: Run along, it's way past ur b3dtime.
pr3dat0r: Bug 0ff, a55h01e. (We don't do charity cases here.)
ch1pd1p: Whatta luser.
. . .
JadeMistress: Your innocence is touching. Perhaps I can help . . .
Instant messaging was all right, but voice chat was a hell of an improvement. She had a low-pitched, bedroom voice. Finally, he got to speak to her on the phone. It was more intimate. She was warm and sympathetic, and could listen to him for hours . . . which was fortunate because he could run on and on about himself for hours. For some reason, though, she wouldn't send a photo.
"Listen up, g33kboy. In the relative scheme of things, looks are unimportant. Sure, you see lots of all-American beauties with pretty faces and big boobs out there, but if they kick you in the teeth, what does it matter in the end?"
They agreed to meet in person. In the flesh. But there seemed to be a slight problem with logistics. It happened that g33kboy was still living at home with his parents, so a rendezvous at his place was a bit, well, dicy. And as for JadeMistress, sure she owned her own home, but she lived halfway across the country. Worse yet, g33kboy hadn't managed to save enough from his job as assistant burger-flipper to be able to afford airfare. So, the round-trip airline ticket that JM sent was a very welcome surprise indeed.
Coming in for a landing at the airport. All through the flight g33kboy had been sweating bullets. Sweating howitzer shells, actually. He had blown his cookies into the oh-so-thoughtfully provided barfbag. Here he was coming to meet the woman who would open up to him the gates of sex and love, her own gate, in fact . . . and he didn't know if he could pull it off. What if he blew it? What if she didn't care for his looks? What if he had bad breath? What if he suddenly broke out in zits? What if he couldn't get it up? What if . . . ?
The plane slowly taxied up to the gate. It was taking forever. He clutched the pitiful little bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. They were starting to look as wilted as he felt.
He glanced around the arrival lounge. There must be thousands of people here waiting for friends and relatives and loved ones. Half the friggin city must be here. Where the bloody hell was she?
Over there! Someone was was holding up a hand-lettered sign with "g33kboy" on it. He pushed through the crowd and waved. No! It couldn't be! There had to be some mistake.
&n
bsp; It was an old lady holding the sign. Of course! It was her mother or auntie. For whatever reason, JadeMistress had sent someone else to meet him.
"Scuse me, ma'am. I'm here for JadeMistress. I'm g33kboy."
The woman gave him an odd smile. She had gold front teeth. "Pleased to meet you. I'm JadeMistress. Welcome." She held open her arms as if to embrace him.
He recoiled. "Wait just a minute, lady. This here ain't quite what I was led to believe. You're old enough to be my . . . "
"Old enough to teach you a thing or two, young fellow. I'm a sixty-seven-year-old grannie, all right. But maybe that's not quite what you bargained for." She chuckled, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I've got what you need . . . the sacred gate between my legs. Still quite functional, too. And I can initiate you into the Mysteries. That's what you're after, right?"
He shrugged and hesitantly put his arms around her.
Later that evening g33kboy was beginning to accept the situation. He felt quite comfortable in Jade's presence. She had treated him to an expensive restaurant meal, then taken him home. He felt totally "at home" in her home.
They sat facing each other across an elegant glass-topped table. Mahogany with ivory intaglios, she had said. Sure beat the hell out of his parents' formica dining set. Expensive. This dame reeked of money.
They sat and talked. Face to face it was somehow easier to talk about life and hopes and dreams than electronically. It was harder to lie, or even hold back truth. It gradually dawned on g33kboy that he could really get to like this woman.
The bed in guest bedroom was both comfortable and comforting. He sank deeply into its plushness and it immersed him in a blanket of sleep.
He awoke to a soft knock on the door. It was dark. Still night.
"Jade? Izzat you?"
"May I come in?"
"Yeah, I guess."
She walked in and sat at the foot of the bed. He snapped on the headboard lamp.
She was wearing a light robe that didn't conceal much. For an old bag, she certainly was well-preserved. In fact, she had a pretty decent bod. This might yet work out. Between his legs, something was stirring.
"Forgive me for disturbing your sleep. I apologize for intruding on your privacy, g33kboy. We've managed to build a bond of friendship and trust between us, and here I am imposing upon that. But I just had to -- had to be with you. Could you . . . would you put up with me for a little while?"
"I'm glad you're here, Jade. Move on over. Set your sweet patoot down beside me. Lemme . . . uh, let me find comfort in your gentle arms. Wilt thou grant me the favor of thy sweet lips?"
(Later on, g33kboy wondered where all that stuff had come from. Maybe from his eleventh grade English Lit class, or, more likely, from sneaking looks at his sister's bodice rippers.)
They embraced. Her body was warm and soft, and didn't feel the least bit withered or dried out. She kissed him, and that was the last thing he remembered.
The morning light slanting through the mini-blinds woke him. He was alone in the bed and still in his underwear. So, nothing had happened last night. Nothing much, except falling asleep in the arms of a woman. A woman he was starting to get some weird feelings for.
There were kitchen sounds on the other side of the wall. He smelled all the usual breakfast smells and heard the faint crackling of something or other frying. His stomach had begun rumbling. Time to get his sorry butt out of bed.
Big-ass Belgian waffles with real maple syrup, and, of course, crispy bacon. Jade was a damn fine cook. And she made a damn attractive waitress, too. She was wearing a tight jumpsuit that showed off her curves nicely. She had some kind of nice ass for an old lady. And she was shaking that ass as she served him.
"Thank you for the tasty grub, Jade."
"You are most welcome, g33kboy. Anything else I can get you?"
"Your delicious self. Pull up a chair. I enjoy warming myself in your body heat. I -- " He fell silent.
"Finish that thought, dear g33kboy. I'm not going to bite you. Or would you maybe prefer that I did?"
"I wanna . . . would Milady grant this humble knave the favor of a kiss?
She walked over, grasped him by the shoulders, looked him in the eye, and kissed him. Passionately. Then she sat down. In his lap.
A short while later she stood, then reached down and unzipped his fly. Her hand dextrously freed his penis from its confinement, whereupon it sprang straight up and pointed heavenward. She looked upon it and smiled.
Slowly she lowered herself. On him. There was a zippered slit in the bottom of her jumpsuit and she was naked underneath. Wriggling her hips, she sank down on his lap and took him into herself. Her arms were tight around him and her lips sealed to his. She was burning hot and wet inside and she pumped him. She pumped him dry. He groaned as he gave up his essence. She hummed an unfamiliar tune and licked his face like a cat.
"So, g33kboy, do you feel any different now?"
"Yes. Flying high and thrumming with power. Razzle-dazzled and frazzled. Finally a full-fledged lewd dude. Older and wiser. Tarred and feathered. And . . . overflowing with gratefulness. Not to mention gratitude. Heaps of thanks upon you for making a man of me, Lady Jade."
"My pleasure."
He stood up. "Wow! That hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm feeling a little . . . worn out, I guess."
"Oh, my dear boy! Come here and give me one more kiss. Then I'll pack you off to bed once more to rest and recharge. Perhaps later, if you're feeling up to it . . . " She chuckled. " . . . perhaps we could repeat the performance. I needed that. Why, I feel like a young girl again. Whee!"
Drifting off to sleep, looking up through half-shut eyelids at Jade sitting on the far edge of the bed knitting and humming softly to herself, it struck him that she did look younger. Quite a bit younger.
He awoke to find a hand on him. Between his legs. Stroking his erection. She was lying stretched out behind him and she was groping him. She smiled, kissed him softly on the forehead, and slowly got onto her hands and knees. His eyes locked on her bare buttocks. All his! His for the taking!
He took her. Once, doggy style, plunging deeply into her pussy, his thighs rebounding off her ass cheeks. A bit later, at her urging, he looked for a tube of "XE-41 Industrial Strength Recreational Lubricant" in the back of the bathroom medicine cabinet. She told him what to do next, and he hesitantly inserted himself into her back passage. She was tighter there. It was hotter inside there, too. (The though popped into his head that he was using his cock as a rectal thermometer, and he had to choke back spasms of laughter.)
Damn, he was tired. He staggered into the bathroom to take a leak and splash some water on his face. Was that him in the mirror? Hoo, boy, he didn't look so hot. Bags under the eyes. Quite a bit the worse for wear. Were those a couple of gray hairs? At eighteen fuckin years old? Couldn't be. Must be hallucinating, or maybe it was the dim light. He dragged ass back to bed.
She wanted to do it again! He was worn out. Tired! Couldn't she fuckin understand that? But she kept right on smoochin on him. Running her hands over his bod. Over his ass. That felt good. Damn good! And when she rubbed his asshole, then slipped a finger inside . . . wowie, zowie! He was starting to get hard again. Rock hard. Ready to rock and roll. He wanted to stick it into her. Either hole. Both holes. But, damn it, it was taking something out of him. Draining him. Sucking the life out of him. He was starting to feel used up. Like he was years older.
Three days later g33kboy was a wreck. He could barely get out of bed and drag himself into the bathroom. Jade served him meals in bed. And she . . . she made love to him. Five, sometimes six times a day. She insisted. Insisted. And if he couldn't get it up, she used what she called "extraordinary measures." She'd strap on a dildo and fuck him in the ass. That had never failed to get him hard. So far.
Yesterday he had gotten a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked like an old man. Some of his hair had fallen out, and what was left was mostly gray. His face was wr
inkled. But Jade! She had somehow managed to roll back her age. She didn't look a day over thirty. Her body had changed, too. Her breasts no longer drooped and her ass was higher and tighter. Damn! She was sucking the youth right out of him. He had to get out of this friggin place. Escape! But how? His body wouldn't work right any more.
He had lost track of time. His mind was going. All he knew was that this lady, whatever the heck her name was, stuffed food in his mouth with a spoon, and sometimes did funny things to him. She took his . . . his peepee . . . and put it in the hole between her legs. He used to know all about that stuff, but now . . . he couldn't remember. Something was wrong. He was so tired. He just wanted to go home. Home to mommy.
The Syntax of Seduction Page 21