Black Lace Quickies 2

by Kerri Sharpe

  To her left, Jeb squeezed Vivien’s thigh. He made the pressure of his fingers firm against the taut muscle and brushed his bushy beard close to her ear. The scrub tickled gently against her cheek. His breath was a soft breeze that moved the tiny, delicate hairs at the nape of her neck. ‘Pay careful attention, Miss Vivien,’ he warned. ‘You might discover that both of us are flirting with you.’

  She swallowed thickly, aware that the atmosphere in the room was now heady with anticipation. Shifting her gaze from one officer to the other, her smile grew broader as she caught their lewd expressions. Glancing meaningfully at the whiskey bottle, she waited until one of them had poured her a generous shot of bourbon before thanking them both and asking, ‘So, what is it that you boys are planning?’

  ‘Major Stuart and I work well together,’ George told her.

  His fingers lingered against hers as he passed the tumbler. Tilting his face down, and contemplating her through hooded eyes, he traced gentle whorls against the back of her hand. Each feather-light caress made her more aware of how much she wanted the two officers.

  ‘Would you care to see how well we work together?’

  She swallowed again, amazed by her own sense of daring. As George was touching her hand, and treating her to his smouldering appraisal, Jeb continued to stroke her thigh. She didn’t let either know what the other was doing – a part of her suspected they were each aware of the other’s actions – but she felt superbly decadent for dallying so intimately with the pair. Delicious spurts of arousal tingled through her body making her feel fresh, alive and excited. The heat inside the tent was suddenly stifling. Although she adored the elegance of her period clothes, Vivien now cursed the garments for being too cumbersome, tight and restrictive. It was difficult to draw breath because of the bodice and her nipples ached as they grew swollen and hard inside their confines. Squirming against her seat, and succumbing to another rush of giddy excitement, she wondered if Cemetery Hill was the only conquest the two officers were plotting.

  ‘As you so rightly pointed out,’ George continued, ‘according to the event’s organisers, my forces should be vanquished tomorrow.’ His Virginia drawl was a smooth and genteel lilt. His mesmerising gaze never left her eyes as his fingers continued to caress the back of her hand. The tiny circles he described made her want to shiver with wanton desire. ‘But, unknown to the organisers, Jeb and I plan to revise our battle plans. Tomorrow, the Confederacy will be victorious.’

  Vivien finally drew her hand away and snatched a sip from her glass of bourbon. The liquid burned her throat and stomach. Its syrupy taste filled her with a fire of excitement that complemented her mood. ‘Stop teasing,’ she protested. With an attempt at faux ignorance, playing on her role as a young debutante limited by a nineteenth-century education, she said, ‘Remember: I’m just a simple girl. Tell me what you boys are plotting in a language I can understand.’

  ‘We work well together,’ Jeb explained.

  Vivien couldn’t tear her gaze from Pickett’s hypnotic smile. She tilted her head, so that Jeb knew she was listening to him, but she couldn’t shift her attention away from George. Unable to resist the impulse any longer, she leaned close to him and teased open one of the shiny buttons from the collar of his frock coat. He smiled for her and, seeing the lascivious gleam in his eye, she giggled and teased open two more. Her long slender fingers made light work of slipping the large brass circles through their respective slits.

  ‘While Major Pickett is making his frontal assault, I’m going to be attacking the left flank,’ Jeb explained.

  Under other circumstances it would have been a bland remark. But, because one of his hands was evoking a delicious magic at her thigh and his other now stroked against her backside, Vivien didn’t think there was anything dull about the comment. She drew a heavy breath and sipped a little more from her glass. Her body was charged with electric anticipation and she felt torn by indecision as she tried to decide which of them deserved her favours.

  ‘Are you with us so far?’ Jeb asked.

  ‘Is this explanation clear enough for you, Miss Vivien?’

  Not listening, she nodded blithely and begged them to continue.

  While she had been delighted with the appearance of her crinoline, she now silently cursed its impracticalities. If she had dressed in anything other than the cumbersome dress she knew she would have properly felt Jeb’s hand as it slid over her left flank. The idea of enjoying that sensation made her ill with the need to experience more. She crushed her thighs together, savouring the comfort that the pressure almost gave, while wishing the sensation was more profound. And, all the time, she continued to wallow in the thrill of Pickett’s piercing gaze.

  ‘Rather than trying to press through the centre of the Hunt’s defences,’ George said slowly, ‘I’m going to take advantage of the weakness that Major Stuart will cause. I’m going to lead my troops through the confused forces on the left flank and, tomorrow afternoon, Pickett’s Charge will be a success.’

  She nodded, not sure she had heard a word spoken by either of the officers. Vivien had always loved the theatrical splendour of the re-enactments. Some went to the events for the sense of history. Others, she knew, appreciated the chance to sample a simpler period of history when the world didn’t revolve around mobile phones, cars, computers and TVs. But, for Vivien, it was the sight of men in military uniforms that made her such a devotee: their elegance left her hot and breathless.

  Being close to exquisitely tailored officers was enough of a thrill to have her inner thighs sweltering. It was also enough of a distraction to make her concentration glide easily away from whatever explanation George and Jeb had been giving. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I didn’t fully follow your battle plans for tomorrow. Can you show me?’

  She sipped the last drops of her whiskey and glanced pointedly at the map on the cluttered table. Gettysburg was a complicated conflict to follow at the best of times. The key locations included Cemetery Hill, Cemetery Ridge and Seminary Ridge and Vivien knew those similar sounding names would have been enough to confuse her without the distraction of George and Jeb’s lascivious attention. She believed, if they pointed out their intended manoeuvres on a map, she would have a better understanding of how they intended to win.

  Jeb gallantly plucked the tumbler from her fingers and poured another shot of bourbon. Its smell no longer made her think of spoiled fruit. Now that it was adding to the warmth inside her, Vivien thought the strong bouquet was a fiery aphrodisiac.

  ‘Major Stuart and I can do better than show you,’ George promised. ‘If you’d be willing to indulge us, we can give you a practical demonstration.’

  From behind her, with his large hands on her hips, Jeb helped Vivien to stand away from the bench. She felt momentarily intimidated by the two men but another quick swallow of the bourbon helped drown that sensation. George instructed her to stand in the centre of the tent with her hands above her head. It was a conspicuous pose and made Vivien fearful that the strapless bodice might not be able to contain her breasts if she kept her arms held too high for too long. Jeb remained behind her but he kept himself close and there was never a moment when she wasn’t aware of his body pressing against hers. If not for the bulky petticoats beneath her crinoline Vivien believed she would have felt the thrust of his erection against her buttocks. The idea left her swathed in an unladylike sheen of perspiration. Trapped between the pair, and sure she now understood how they wanted the evening to progress, Vivien didn’t allow any of her expectations to show on her face.

  ‘I want you to imagine you’re our intended target,’ George began.

  Vivien nodded. She privately believed her imagination could be used for much more fertile devices – like the cause of the bulge that pushed at the front of Pickett’s frock coat – but she didn’t want either officer to know that her thoughts were descending to such lewd depths. Trying to show that she understood the demonstration, Vivien said, ‘I’m your intended target.’<
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  George grinned at her. ‘I’m expected to make a frontal assault,’ he explained. As he said the words his hands went to her breasts. The swollen orbs were barely contained inside her bodice. The tight garment almost pushed them over the plunging neckline. His cool fingers slid against the soft, pliant flesh and she bit back a sigh of delight as he gently kneaded her. The heels of his palms pushed against her bodice and excited the nipples beneath. Gently, but firmly, Pickett crushed them and inspired a poignant flurry of responses.

  A stream of objections sprang to the forefront of her mind.

  She thought of telling Pickett that he had misjudged her character; that he was overstepping the marks of decency; and that she wasn’t such easy prey. But, before she could think of which argument to raise, Jeb’s hands had fallen to her rear.

  ‘I’m attacking the target from behind,’ he explained.

  His voice was disturbingly close. The whisper-soft caress of his words trailed against her neck and thrilled her with his nearness. It had felt like the height of audacity when George stroked her hand while Jeb touched her thigh. Now, to have one of them fondling her breasts as the other caressed her buttocks felt like the most decadent scenario imaginable.

  Jeb had unfastened the lace ribbons that secured the back of her crinoline. She watched the glorious fabric pool to the groundsheet as he fumbled with the strings that tied her petticoats and bloomers in place.

  ‘Major Pickett …’ she sighed.

  She swallowed, shook her head and started again.

  ‘Major Stuart …’

  George silenced her with a kiss. His beard and moustache tickled but the nuisance of that sensation was easily forgotten as his tongue slipped between her lips. While plundering her mouth, he continued to squeeze and caress her breasts until she felt the abrasive tear of her nipples being liberated from her bodice.

  Vivien and George gasped in unison.

  Exposed to the smoky air of the tent, her bare breasts looked small, pale and vulnerable. The tips were dark cherries, rigid and ripe against her porcelain flesh. Their sensitive ends were grazed against the coarse weave of George’s dashing, grey frock coat.

  ‘I think you’ve been undone, Miss Vivien,’ Pickett said with a grin.

  She didn’t let him say anything else, pushing her mouth over his and stealing another deep kiss.

  Jeb pressed behind her, easing layer after layer of petticoats away from her hips. Vivien only realised how many clothes he had removed when her legs and buttocks were chilled by the tent’s cool air. Moving her lips from Pickett’s face, she turned to glance at Jeb. His grin shone through the curls of his beard and, when she glanced down at herself, she could see her buttocks and thighs were exposed to him. An unsettled inner voice told her that there was too much of her flesh on display and she couldn’t deny that the sight contrasted starkly with the ostentatious costumes of Pickett and Stuart. Seeing her predicament as though at a distance, she felt ill with arousal and had to bite back a sudden need to moan.

  ‘Do you see how easily we can claim our victory?’ Jeb asked. The tips of his fingers caressed her bare backside. Each revolution seemed to make him grow bolder as he inched closer to the crease between her cheeks.

  ‘Or would you care for a fuller demonstration?’ Pickett suggested.

  Mute with anticipation – not trusting herself to speak – Vivien could only nod her consent. She allowed George to back away from her; kept her hands above her head while he admired her near-naked body; and stood motionless as they each murmured encouraging words about the spectacle she presented. When they finally moved to take her, she was weak with need.

  ‘I will attack from the front,’ Pickett reminded her.

  He spoke as he lowered his mouth to her breast. Her left nipple was caught between moist lips, forcefully suckled, and then lightly nibbled. The balance of pleasure and pain swayed from one extreme to another. Her breast was a shriek of delicious responses in one moment and a bliss of punishing agony the next. When he shifted his mouth to her right breast, and treated her to the same cruel delight, Vivien knew she was already on the verge of climax.

  Jeb’s whisper-soft voice came from behind. ‘I’m attacking from the rear,’ he confided. The fingertips that had been chasing lazy circles against her rear became more inquisitive. His touch delved into the crease between her cheeks and she was shocked to feel him stretch her buttocks wide apart. It was too much – too intrusive – and she was about to tell him as much when he stroked the ring of her anus.

  A quiver of raw ecstasy rippled through her body.

  She gasped: disgusted and delighted.

  Before she could catch her breath – and not sure if she wanted to tell him to stop or continue – George was teasing his fingers through the curls of her pubic mound. Every nerve in her body was charged with an adrenalin rush and Vivien shook her head from side to side. Her face blushed scarlet as she tried to work out if she should push herself towards Pickett or into Stuart.

  George said, ‘We’re going to make it a forceful attack.’ He spoke as his fingers slipped against the dank wetness of her labia. Deftly, he teased her pussy lips apart and drew a slow caress against the pulse of her clitoris.

  ‘Our target won’t know which side to defend,’ Jeb assured her. His fingers remained at her rear, spreading her buttocks until she felt at her limit, and constantly exciting her puckered ring.

  ‘We work well together,’ George explained needlessly. He caught her clitoris between his finger and thumb and idly toyed with the pulsing bead of flesh. ‘Tomorrow, we will rewrite history. Tomorrow, we will be victorious.’

  Vivien didn’t know whether they would be victorious on the battlefield but she knew they had triumphed over her. Overwhelmed by a need for satisfaction, she pushed herself into George’s embrace. He guided her towards the cot, all the time teasing her between the legs while occasionally licking or sucking at her breasts. Jeb remained in constant contact with her behind, never letting his fingers lose their hold on her rear, and perpetually trying to ease a finger into her forbidden hole.

  She had seen a hundred or more re-enactments, and knew they could be fast and furious affairs. But she didn’t think they would ever be as fast or as furious as the way she capitulated to the two Confederate majors. Pulling the hems of George’s frock coat aside, tearing the erection from the front of his pants, Vivien impaled herself on him with a warm, liquid rush. His length was fat enough to spread her pussy lips apart and, as he slid into her sex, they both groaned with guttural cries of satisfaction. Her bare thighs were wrapped around his serge-covered hips. She smiled down at the elegantly dressed officer fondling her breasts and began to buck her pelvis back and forth. The pressure of his hardness rubbed beautifully against her pulse and she believed, with only a little more movement, she could secure the climax her body now needed.

  Behind her, still practising his assault on her flank, Jeb pressed a rigid erection between her buttocks. Vivien was made momentarily ill when she realised what he was trying to do. And then her revulsion was swept away by a rising surge of arousal. The muscle of her sphincter offered the briefest resistance – she quietly fretted that shaft would be too large to enter the tiny hole of her anus – and then Stuart slid easily inside.

  All three of them groaned.

  Pressed between their uniformed bodies, delighting in the sensation of her own nudity being trapped between such an elegantly dressed pair, Vivien knew it would not be long before she heard the first canon-fire explosions of her climax. She remembered them both saying they worked well together and she now understood that they hadn’t been lying. As Jeb thrust himself deep into her rear, George pulled his hips backwards and allowed his cohort to make the penetration without causing undue pain. As George shifted his hips forwards, filling her with his glorious, thick length, Jeb retreated until she fretted that his length might slip completely from her rear. They executed each lunge with practised precision, never allowing Vivien a moment when she was
n’t fully impaled on one or the other. Jeb tried to cup her breasts as George continued to fondle her, giving Vivien the impression that she was being mauled by an entire platoon.

  And then they increased their speed.

  The pair slid easily in and out of her. Jeb pressed kisses against her neck and shoulders and rode his shaft deep into her bottom. George remained buried in her sex easing himself backwards and forwards with the pace of a quick march. The smoky stench of the tent was now lost beneath the scents of sexual musk, sweat and excitement. Vivien could hear both her holes squelching greedily although the sounds were almost lost beneath her faltering cries of delight. Pushed closer and closer to the pique of orgasm, while reaching behind herself to grip Jeb and pushing one hand down to hold George, she revelled in the moment of release as she stroked their debonair uniforms.

  Jeb’s climax quickly followed: squeezed from his length by the contractions of her inner muscles. His pulse came thick and fast, filling her with a molten seed that was so hot it inspired a blistering orgasm. She wrenched herself away from him, crying out with delight, as George erupted into her sex.

  In the stillness of the aftermath, the three of them lay panting and satisfied together on the cot. Jeb was the first to move, tactfully withdrawing from the melee and quickly adjusting his clothes so he once again looked respectable. Vivien eased herself from George’s recumbent body, smiling demurely for him as she began to retrieve her clothes.

  He graced her with an approving smile.

  ‘That was quite a demonstration,’ Vivien murmured as she climbed back into her dress. Her body remained ablaze with excitement but she could see both officers were now spent and of no more use to her. Jeb gallantly helped her to fasten the bows and laces that secured her petticoats and crinoline but he performed the actions without any hint of his earlier attempts at seduction. Still breathless from the sudden burst of passion, and sure she could endure another clash with the pair, she fluttered her lashes from Jeb to George and asked, ‘Will I see either of you at the dance later on?’