Hi readers and welcome to another one of my stories! If you have read my other stuff, you’ll note that this is a different animal. I’m branching out a little bit outside my comfort zone, partially inspired by another author’s stories (thanks Dark Paladin). This is not a long story, it’s just an experiment. If you’re a fan of high fashion and aphrodisiacs, this is a fun romp.
As always, I love feedback, pos or neg, just tell me how I can do better. I hope you enjoy it!
One look inside the venue and Veronica Boissonade was glad she’d gotten the warning. “Dress upscale” was an understatement and any normal 24 year old woman walking into this place would have been intimidated, but not Veronica. The debutante turned assistant event planner was perfectly at ease amongst the wealthy. Her father had many wealthy clients in the past.
“And you are?” The host, a middle aged thin man asked without even so much as a hello.
Snooty host, how cliche. Fortunately, this was something she was prepared for.
“Having a great day, thanks for asking. Is my table ready?” Most times you can get away just by acting like you belong. The privilege of understanding how these circles work. This guy existed to be the barrier between the masses and the deserving. Once she was past him, they would all be supplicant. All she had to do to get past him was drop one name.
“And you are?” he prompted again.
She hesitated, but then smiled. Not worth it to waste time. She put on a sweet innocent smile, “Oh, I’m sure I have a reservation. Check under Boissonade?” She smiled awaiting that familiar sycophantic smile that followed from the utterance of her father’s name.
His lip curled into a smile, but not the one of a sycophant. “Perhaps Miss is here to meet a friend?” He hadn’t even bothered to check for a reservation either. That was bothersome.
“Would you please check your reservations? Boissonade. I’m sure you’ll find-”
“Perhaps Miss does not understand. This is not a place that takes ‘reservations’,” the way her spat out the last word gave her a chill.
“She’s with me.” The voice came clear and smooth from behind her. A warm matronly melody that tamed the host. Her chestnut hair was pulled into an asymmetric updo that could have easily been from another era, but her clothes were utterly modern, perfectly cut, couture for sure, with perfect lines. Even her jewelry was perfectly stated, sapphire earrings that dangled just above the middle of her long neck and a teardrop sapphire pendant to match that lay as a perfect vee as if painted on her olive toned skin. She was composed perfection.
“Ah, Madame Alcantara, will Mister Cha-”
She stopped him with a single finger, “I don’t think a table will be necessary for now.”
“Of course, if Madame and her guest would follow me,” he led them through the crystal doors where a young woman in smart waitress attire and a bow tie led them to the bar which looked like it was made out of a single slab of carved marble with gold filigrees and engravings. Such an opulent scene was of normal course for Veronica, but usually it was for work. When she got off the train she had a message from her father’s secretary asking her to reach out and take a preliminary meeting as a favor. Of course with father it was good to anticipate which favors were actually duties. He was a loving man though perhaps a tad transactional.
This brought Veronica to this formidable woman who sashayed through the kind of place where most would quietly step. Veronica’s own Aidan Mattox bateau-necked red sequin dress with a deep V-back had always been her suit of armor or a magical talisman. In it, she’d felt powerful, invincible, and confident. Now it just felt like the basic barrier to entry into a whole other level. That was probably by design, she mused.
“Mrs. Alcantara, I presume you’re with the Aelthier Group then?”
“You presume correctly Ms.” she trailed off expecting Veronica to fill in the blank.
“Boissonade, but how did you-”
“I hope Bobby didn’t bother you too much back there.”
“Bobby?” Veronica was still stuck on how Mrs. Alcantara could know what she looked like without knowing her name. Something wasn’t adding up.
“The host. He’s a harmless little puppy, but he likes to bark.”
She smiled, “I supposed it’s necessary. Bobby was it?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Alcantara sighed wistfully, “Oh, he hates it when you call him that. I’m sure he prefers Robert, but it makes good fun to see him squirm.”
Veronica smirked, she was starting to like this woman already. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And you can call me Jordana. Last names are so formal, don’t you think?”
“Of course. I’m Veronica- oh.” The barman had set two glasses before them. In front of Jordana, he’s set a short thick glass with a deep amber looking fluid. In front of her he set a pink treat of a drink in a martini glass. Quickly she looked around to see who sent them the drinks. That was usually the typical approach to two attractive women in a bar. Veronica turned back to the bartender, “We didn’t order these.”
Jordana had already lifted her drink and inhaled deeply, “Ah wonderful. You should try yours.”
“I didn’t order these.”
Jordana smiled, “Of course not dear. You couldn’t have ordered anything anyway. Not without an account. This isn’t the kind of place that takes credit cards or cash.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
Jordana raised her glass, “To making new friends.”
“New friends,” she agreed. Her drink was light, smooth, and sweet. You could hardly taste the gin or vodka, or whatever made its base. The glass was filled so much, she had to sip a good amount just to make sure it wouldn’t spill. She set it down and set about her purpose for being here. Meet with the potential client, figure out their needs and interests, and report back to her father while making a good impression. These were the feelers, the low level contacts made to ensure a good culture fit. Some clients didn’t want to be seen in public meeting with a lawyer so as not to tip their hand or start any rumors, so many deals were started like this. Low level talks with trusted representatives.
“How long have you been with the Aelthier Group?”
Jordana groaned, “Must we talk of business so soon. It has been quite a day.”
Veronica pulled back quickly, “Of course not, a bit of relaxation is always welcome at the end of the day.”
“Quite,” she agreed.
“And this is an interesting venue for it.”
“You like?” Jordan’s sipped her drink prompting Veronica to do the same.
“It is intriguing. They don’t take cash, they don’t take credit, and they don’t take reservations. Makes a girl wonder what they do take at this lounge.”
“It’s more of a club in the old sense of the word. When people come here they don’t have to worry about silly things like splitting checks or who is paying. It is really quite civilized.”
“I suppose so.”
Jordan’s smiled, “And the drinks are quite good.”
Veronica found herself agreeing, “They really are, I don’t even have any idea what I have but I like it.”
“Oh, huh, yes, seems a fitting name. What are you drinking.”
“Sazerac. It is my favorite. Strong and bitter.”
“Is it good?”
“I am not sure you’d like it. But if you really want it, I may let you have a taste.”
For a flash of a hot second, Veronica thought Jordan’s might be flirting with her. If she was that was not unheard of. This was a modern era after all. “I think I’ll stick with this.”
“Probably wise. This is a very strong drink which I deserve after a very long day.”
“I hear you, sister, what has you frazzled?”
“Ah ah ah,” she corrected. “That is work talk.”
Veronica caught herself with a chuckle, “Touché, alright, let’s do it, an absolute embargo on work.”
“Wonderful, it really is much better together to get to know someone by the way they have fun don’t you think?”
“Hmm, how so?”
“For one thing,” Jordana swirled her glass in front of her to saver the scent. Her full lips touched the glass and took a slow sip. Veronica unconsciously followed suit, “the things you do for fun are the things that activate your mind. A drink, a dance, a dalliance, these things we crave tell us plenty about who we really are, not the simple drudgery of the day, don’t you think?” Her tongue snaked out to take a taste of liquor on her lip which pleased her into a slow smile.
“That makes sense,” Veronica conceded, nervously casting her eyes to her drink, “So then what do you like to do for fun?”
“Exactly what I am doing right now,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. Jordana had a sultry quality in all of her words, like a woman who’d known much, already gone far, and enjoyed the ride.
She swallowed a bit more of her drink, “What is that?”
“Having a very strong drink and good conversation.”
“Oh, yes,” she blushed. Jordana’s manner was a bit unnerving, and Veronica found quite by accident that she’d barely a sip left in her drink.
“And you, Veronica, what stimulates your mind.”
“Hmm, you mean besides Prada, Dolce, Valentino and Faviana?”
“Yes, couture is a pleasant diversion, is it not?”
“Looking at that dress I think you’d probably have some expertise to share with the class,” she prompted Jordana. It was always better to get them talking than to be the one talking. Veronica picked up her refilled glass. She hadn’t even seen the bartender bring it by.
“Oh this, I am glad you enjoy the illusion, but clothes aren’t a passion for me. I am lucky enough to have people to take care of such preparations.”
“I see,” so Jordana wasn’t just a low level player. That could mean this little interaction was much more important than she’d thought.
“Do you know what I like, Veronica. It is not the preparation. It is the game. That fun little dance of words, winks and stolen glances. The chase. Boys can be such fun.”
Veronica let out a sighing laugh, “Oh yes, boys!” She couldn’t help but let her relief out with a sigh.
Jordana smirked, “Looks like we’ve found what stimulates your mind.”
She giggled in response as she sipped her drink to keep it from spilling. “Oh no, I mean yes, but no, I- it is so silly, but I got this vibe I was picking up that you...” she leaned with a conspiratorial whisper, “liked girls.”
Jordana smiled bemused. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You did, you’re very sexy with that drink and stimulating and stuff.”
Jordana laughed, even her laugh was low and sultry, she reached out and touched Veronica’s arm, “You are quite the flatterer aren’t you. I’m going to have to be careful not to get a big head around you.” Veronica smiled into her drink. She was doing a great job here making friends with the prospective client. Yup, things were going great. Plus it felt really nices to have Jordana’s fingers caressing her arms. “You know I take that as quite the compliment coming a woman as young and beautiful as you. When a man compliments you, you can never really trust his motives.”
Veronica grinned, “Oh no, you can trust his motive, it’s always the same thing.” She smiled as she thought back to a few naughty moments with her ex. He always had a way with his tongue.
“Yes, with boys it can be so tedious. But then again with a real man, there can be something enjoyable about that singular focus. When you’re at a party and you see ... let’s say an intriguing man. When you see him, and he sees you. When you see that look of desire. Not only desire, but the confidence that sends an uncontrolled shiver down your spine. He knows that he’s going to have you, and you know you want to before he even says a word. It’s freeing, don’t you think?”
“God, I need to get laid,” Veronica gasped at herself and covered her mouth, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that.”
Jordana let out a soft laugh, “Don’t worry, sweetie, I was thinking the same thing.”
“Huh?” Veronica’s eyes were shiny and glazed as she looked up from her drink to Jordana’s smile.
“Tell me something, dear. What kind of men excite you?”
“Mmm, I shouldn’t talk about things like that.”
“Nonsense, dear. A woman needs to be able to express her desires as much as any man does. Tell me what you desire.”
Her words echoed in Veronica’s ears sending her memories back through some of the men she’d dated through her youth, but more to the men she fancied but never knew, “I don’t have a type really. I’ve dated all different types of men.”
“We all have. Sometimes out of necessity rather than desire. But I’m talking about the kind of person that really gets you wet. Have you ever met anyone where you find yourself just staring at them wondering what it would be like to feel their skin on your skin, their lips on your lips, there hands on your body?”
A small part of Veronica’s mind noticed the sensation of fingers tracing up her arm and down again as her nipples tightened under her dress. The rest of her was too taken with the imagery of her words and the low sensual voice that spoke them. “I- I- couldn’t say.”
“Even if you can’t say, I can see you have a type in mind. All this talk of men has me a little worked up. I think it would be a good time to go to a party. Would you like to come with, Ms. Boissonade?” Her question was simple, but her eyes held the promises of illicit pleasures.
“Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“Okay,” she heard herself say. “But- my drink.”
“Leave it, there’s plenty to drink at the party. Come, there’s a car downstairs waiting for me.”
Veronica got up, half expecting to stumble back down. She felt so tittery and giddy, but strangely she didn’t feel dizzy at all. “That’s funny. I thought I was going to be drunk.”
“From a Pink Passion? That has barely any alcohol at all, even for such a petite young woman like yourself.”
Feeling bold, and a tad bit saucy, Veronica downed the rest of the drink eliciting an unnoticed smile from Jordana. ‘For nerves,’ she lied to herself. Jordana led her to the elevator, and she followed, sashaying her hips and enjoying the feeling a slight tingle of excitement in her skin.
Jordana and Veronica walked hand in hand, the older curvier olive skinned woman with gorgeous hair led the shiny eyed pale ingenue out into the cool night air where a tall broad shouldered man in a tuxedo opened the door to the limo. She reminded herself muzzily that this was business, not pleasure like the kind she couldn’t help but think of seeing his well shaped outline in that suit.
She sunk into the deep seats of the plush interior and sighed. The man who’d opened the door followed after and sat down. She’d been so taken with watching the strong man’s body and fluid movement that she hadn’t realized there was another man inside as well.
“Oh, hi,” was all she could manage to say. The second was ebony dark African American man with almond shaped eyes and hair shaved clean off. He had striking chiseled features and an easy grin. The first was caucasian with a squared off jaw, full head of thick dirty blonde hair in a tousled pompadour, and mischievous grin. Both of them had suits well tailored to the impressive forms. There was definitely something compelling about a man in a well-tailored designer anything as far as she was concerned.
“Ah yes, I wanted to introduce you to some of my friends, this is Clarence,” indicating the black man, “and Claus” indicating the fair skinned one.
“Good evening Miss,” Clarence spoke long enough to betray his British accent, Claus followed with his own German accent.
“My friend Veronica was just telling me that she was in need of, how did you put it? Getting laid?”
She giggled. Giggled? That was a strange reaction or at least she might have thought so if she wasn’t busy agreeing, “Oh yeah, we were just talking about that.” She felt a warm tingling in her skin, it was vibrant and sensitive to the feel of the plush seat. Her sequined skirt had hiked up an inch or two higher than she might have allowed it to, but she thought less about the and more about the sensation of the material slipping over the tops of her slim creamy thighs.
Veronica couldn’t help but enjoy the warm glow, feeling a lazy smile crawl across her lips. The large warmth of Clarence’s body settled beside her like a large wall. She couldn’t help but lean against his massive arm. It felt so easy to relax into it. “What was I saying?”
She looked down to see the tingling from her knees was coming from Claus’s hand tracing lazy circles on her knee and up her inner thigh. She may have had a word to say to that, but his fingers traced along her inner thigh down to tickle the back of her knee. Two fingers dragged along the smooth skin of hers in a delicate kiss that trailed down the back of her curved calf tracing the wine glass shape of her leg and returned to rest on her knee again. There was a confidence in the intimate touch and a vague sense of reverence mixed with the bold exploration. Veronica felt like she was swimming in a pool of attention in red sequined dress. Her eyes had glazed over watching Claus while Clarence leaned in and inhaled the lilac scent of her hair. His fingers brushed her hair away from her temple and tucked the strands back. She marvelled at the strange intensity of the simple caress of her ear and earlobe that gave her a pleasant tingle. His fingertips moved on along drawing a line down her slim regal neck down to the delicate cleft between her collarbones.
“You were talking about getting laid, and on that subject, don’t you just love your new friends?”
Veronica thought to reply, but Clarence’s strong fingers ran back up her neck to the base of her hair and combed in to hold her head weightless. The sensation of combing in her hair relaxed her in a delightful distraction that melted her further into her dress. Those wonderful fingers massaged her scalp causing her eyes to droop. She’d always loved going to the salon if only for the wash, where her hair would be pulled and yanked and massaged until she could almost fall asleep. Here, this gorgeous man’s strong hand massaged her head and she let him tilt her head up until she saw him leaning in to kiss her slack parted lips.
They kissed, his plump lips claiming her slim clumsy ones. He expertly coaxed her into deepening the kiss with a nudge and a nip. His lips found willing partners opening her up to a deeper kiss. Her unfocused mind couldn’t hold her back from small moans as they kept kissing. A warm feeling began to bloom in her body. It was a strange urge beyond the typical mellow core of arousal she usually felt with other men. Her hand hadn’t bothered to move to Claus’s hand to stay his exploration even as it ventured back to her inner thigh. Instead, it had fallen to her stomach where it lay over the tickling urge. That urge desired to push her fingers down between her thighs and up over her hiddens areas. Her jealous nipples complained for attention as well, leaving her confused hands caressing her torso in slow pulses.
Where they broke from their kiss, she felt the strange shame of her own arousal seeing Jordana watching quietly. Her hand ran itself deliciously over her own breast on the way to hide her face. Her other hand had found its release of tension by grabbing onto the large thigh of the dark englishman.
She jerked back her hand realizing she’d just touched something much more intimate than a leg. “S- sorry,” she apologized with a breathy panic. She flushed in shame as her hands fled to the hem of her skirt to pull it down. Her squirming had hiked her skirt past her mid thigh and she was feeling rather exposed.
Jordana smiled, with a lick of her lips, “No need to apologize. I’m sure Clarence didn’t mind, it’s that right dear.”
“No, ma’am,” he smiled, “Never from a woman so lovely.”
“I do like to watch you work, but you’re enjoying this one a little too much,” Jordana pursed her lips and admonished him, “Careful, you’ll make me ever so jealous.”
“Shall I make amends?”
“Ooh,” she cood, “please would you?”
He leaned forward, taking off his jacket and knelt in front of Jordana, climbing between her legs, and began kissing up her couture covered curves up to her breasts.