Chapter 18

Tommy and Connie stayed in good spirits as they made the drive westward towards Lafayette and the Hotel Arcenaux. They once again split the driving duties and with some cajoling from Connie, Tommy actually drove a few miles an hour over the speed limit. They made even better time on the return trip and pulled up to the hotel at seven that evening.

Pierre met them in the parking lot again, this time his sudden appearance didn’t startle Tommy. Pierre seemed genuinely happy to see them as he grabbed one of their bags and escorted them into the lobby. Marie was not manning the desk this evening, instead, a young woman, obviously another of her daughters, was there.

“Hello, Salmarie, I missed seeing you last week,” Connie greeted the woman warmly.

Salmarie gave Connie a big smile and returned the greeting.

“I was up in Baton Rouge on business,” she replied, “but I heard all about your visit.”

The woman then turned her attention toward Tommy.

“And this must be the man who has my mother all atwitter. I see why, now. He’s yummy,” she said as she licked her lips suggestively.

Tommy was nonplussed for a second by her outrageous flirting, but Connie gave an amused snort.

“I’ve already told Marie that you and Michelle needed to find another man to snack on. Where is Marie anyway?”

Salmarie tried to look disappointed, but ended up giggling.

“You are so selfish, Conchita, keeping him all to yourself like that. Momma is in the kitchen supervising dinner. We have an almost full house tonight because of guests in town for the Cotillion party. Momma did reserve the honeymoon suite for you again, though.”

While Salmarie was speaking, Tommy was surreptitiously comparing her to her mother. He was amazed that all three Arcenaux women shared the white streaks in their hair, and wondered if it was natural or something they did themselves. Salmarie was about the same height as Marie, five-three maybe, but she was slimmer and less well developed in the hips and chest. She had eyes a shade darker than her mother’s, and her skin was the same dusky Creole olive. She was wearing a tailored black knee length skirt, crisp white blouse and a form-fitting black Bolero jacket. She was a very pretty young woman, but Tommy didn’t feel the attraction for her that he did towards Marie.

Dinner that night was served in the hotel’s large dining room, and there must have been a dozen tables occupied. Tommy and Connie arrived at the dining room a few minutes after eight. Connie looked radiantly beautiful in the same aqua dress she’d worn to church. The addition of three inch heels and some strategically unfastened buttons turned the demure frock into a sexy cocktail dress.

Salmarie seated the couple at a table in front of a bay window that overlooked the rear garden. As soon as they were seated, Michelle, again dressed as a French maid, swooped over and poured them each a glass of wine. Tommy took a longer look at Michelle this time, again comparing the young woman to her mother. Michelle was the tallest of the Arcenaux women. She was probably five-six, although she appeared much taller in her impossibly high heels. She had Marie’s hair, but her complexion was lighter and her eyes were green. Michelle’s figure was also more robust than her mother or sibling.

Connie smiled when she noticed Michelle position herself in a way that allowed Tommy to look down the front of her costume. Michelle was an exhibitionist of the first rank. When Tommy did not take the bait, Connie could almost feel Michelle’s disappointment. Connie made up for Tommy’s good manners by taking a lingering gander at Michelle’s creamy orbs as the woman leaned over to pour her wine. When Michelle peeked to see if she was watching, Connie shot her a wink and leaned forward.

“Lobby bathroom, five minutes,” Connie whispered in her ear.

Michelle’s head bobbed up and down and she blushed furiously as she backed away from the table. Connie smiled to herself as she turned her attention back to Tommy. Connie knew very well that being an exhibitionist was not Michelle Arcenaux’s only kink.

Connie was making idle chatter with Tommy when she saw Michelle slip out of the dining room. Connie put her napkin on the table, excused herself and casually followed her. When Connie pushed open the bathroom door, Michelle was standing in front of the vanity, a pensive look on her face.

“What are you going to make me do?” the Cajun girl asked in a small voice.

Connie chuckled and stepped closer to the woman. Although Michelle acted as if she was worried, her expressive green eyes shone with excitement. She was sexually submissive to the right person, and for some reason, Connie was at the top of that list. From the minute they met, Michelle couldn’t say no to her new cousin. She shivered when Connie reached forward and touched her cheek.

“What I’m going to let you do tonight, my little Cajun Minx, is continue to flirt with my man. Then for your mother, tomorrow night you are going to...”

Michelle’s eyes grew larger and brighter as Connie outlined her plan. When Connie finished, the younger woman nodded her head vigorously in agreement.

“Oh yes,” she said excitedly, “Momma is going to love you for that!”

Tommy looked at her funny when Connie returned to the table wearing a big smile. Before he could ask her about it, she kissed him on the lips then whispered in his ear.

“Michelle is showing off for us, Baby, so be nice and pay her some attention.”

Tommy sat back in his chair, gave Connie a confused look and leaned toward her again.

“I thought it was impolite to stare at a woman,” he said sotto voce.

“It usually is Honey, but then again, sometimes a woman wants you to notice her. You are just going to have to learn to read the signs she gives,” Connie replied.

Tommy very much doubted that ever happening, but he took Connie’s word for it and openly ogled whatever Michelle showed him the rest of the evening. With Connie egging her on, Michelle showed him a lot. The game was fun for all of them, especially when they were the only three left in the dining room. Tommy liked it that Michelle flirted with Connie as much as she did with him.

Tommy was excited when they left Michelle in the dining room at ten that night, but Connie was on fire. The flirting, combined with her anticipation of the next night, had her libido in overdrive. Tommy cried ‘uncle’ at midnight, as worn out as he’d ever been!

Connie slept in the following morning while Tommy went downstairs to breakfast. Breakfast was buffet style, so Marie sat with Tommy while he ate. Marie was all smiles as she watched Tommy pack away the food. She was incredibly attracted to this sweet young man, and she felt as if she was a teenager when she was around him. He made her giggle and blush and she adored him for it.

After breakfast, Pierre took Tommy to a men’s store in Lafayette so he could rent a tux. The fitting went smoothly as the fussy sales clerk discovered Tommy was a perfect forty-four long. There were even off-the-rack trousers that fit him, so he was out the door with his ensemble in less than an hour.

From the men’s shop, Pierre took Tommy on a tour of Lafayette Parish and stopped for lunch at the Thibodaux Cafe.

“This is the heart of Cajun country,” Pierre explained as they were chowing down on bowls of gumbo. “My people have lived here since the 1750s when the British drove my French ancestors out of Canada and the French aristocrats sent us packing when we landed in New Orleans. We settled here in the bayous with the Indians, run-away slaves and Spaniards.”

Tommy was fascinated by history of any type, since he really didn’t have one of his own.

“The menu says this place serves Cajun and Creole food. What’s the difference between a Cajun and a Creole?” Tommy asked.

Pierre smiled and shrugged.

“A Cajun is a person descended from the French speaking people from the region of Eastern Canada called Acadia. The word Cajun is derived from the name Acadian. As a matter of fact, this part of Louisiana is sometime called Acadiana. Creole is from a Spanish word meaning born in the colonies. Immigrants from the East and West Indies brought the word here with them. All Cajuns are Creoles, in the sense that we were born in the colonies, but a Creole is only a Cajun if they are an Acadian descendant.”

Pierre laughed at Tommy’s bemused look.

“We are a strange mix, us Cajun Creoles,” he said. “We are the real melting pot of America. Just like this gumbo, we are a mix of different things that when stirred together is wonderful.”

Tommy nodded enthusiastically at that. He had been as well treated in Lafayette as he was in Brantley.

“Yeah,” Tommy said reverently, “and your mother must be the Queen of the Cajuns.”

Pierre’s eyebrows shot up at that heartfelt proclamation, then he laughed again.

“You have no idea, my friend; but you’ll see how true that statement is, tonight,” Pierre said mysteriously.

Tommy arrived back at their hotel room at two-thirty in the afternoon. Connie was conspicuous by her absence, so Tommy closed the drapes, shucked his clothes, and took a well-deserved siesta on the round gaudy bed. Tommy woke up an hour later. Sometime while he was sleeping, Connie had slipped into bed with him. Tommy guessed that Connie wanted him awake because her hand was inside his Jockeys, lightly scratching his now rigid tool as he slept on his back.

“Wakey, wakey, my big handsome man,” she purred in his ear.

Tommy tried to pretend that he was still asleep, but his lips twitched in a smile. Tommy grunted in surprise when Connie swung herself astride him. Connie was naked again, a state of dress she seemed to prefer here in Lafayette. She giggled as she pulled his turgid staff out of his underwear.

“Come to Momma, you big bad boy,” she moaned as she notched him at her hot slick center.

Tommy moaned right along with her as she worked her way down his erection.

When she was fully seated, she sat up straighter so she could look him in the eye. Connie seldom used sex to get what she wanted from Tommy, and she knew she probably didn’t have to this time either, but she was hot as a firecracker. She had spent the day plotting and flirting with Michelle, so she decided to let Tommy in on her plan while he scratched her itch. She wiggled her hips until she was in the perfect position, then rippled her internal muscles and started talking.

“I’m going to beg off from attending the dance tonight, Baby,” she said.

Tommy gave her an inquisitive frown, then groaned when she squeezed him again.

“I’m not going because I want you to escort Marie there. Michelle, Pierre and Salmarie all agree that it would be great for there mother. Salmarie and Pierre have dates, but Michelle is going to stay here and keep me company.”

Connie swiveled her hips in a figure eight as Tommy reached up and squeezed one of her big firm breasts. She shuddered, already on the verge of an orgasm and they’d just started. With a conscious effort, she stilled her gyrating hips.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll treat her exactly as you would any of our female friends. Make her feel special ... whatever it takes, make the night magical for her.”

Tommy, dressed in his rental penguin suit, was down in the lobby at seven-thirty that evening. In his hand were a dozen pink roses that Salmarie had scrounged up for him. Tommy didn’t really know why he wanted things pink for Marie, but when he thought of the dusky beauty, that color kept popping up.

Marie kept him cooling his heels for another fifteen minutes. Tommy forgot all about that, however, when she gracefully glided down the grand staircase that flanked the registration desk. The woman knew how to make an entrance. Marie was wearing a formal gown with a snug bodice and a floor length full skirt. The gown was predominantly black, but it did have a vivid pink sash at the waist. Tommy smiled at that and also at the pink hibiscus flower tucked into her hair. The hair the flower was tucked into was woven into a complicated French braid that hung to the middle of her back. A shy little smile played across her lips as Tommy looked at her in unabashed awe.