The Erotic Writer

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Heat

This story is based on an erotic art piece that Will sent to me. “There might be a story there,” he wrote, and left it at that. As it turns out, there was. – X

“Mariette!”

Her handmaid appeared from the other room, her skirt still bunched up from relieving herself. She lifted her arms without another word and Mariette unlaced the front of her dress. Her breasts lowered with every pull until her nipples appeared over the lace lining of her corset.

“I think I’ll have brandy instead of tea tonight. Bring me the whole bottle.” Her maid had the audacity to pause from the task of loosening her stays. She was too free with that woman. “Now!”

“Oui, Madame, tout de suite!” she said, and scurried out.

She rubbed her powdered face in frustration. The skin underneath her corset tingled uncomfortably with the summer heat, but her brother had still chosen to light a thousand candles to decorate the ballroom for his midsummer soirée. The stench of beeswax was on everything. Her dress, her wig, her fan. Her skin felt greasy with it. She dropped her fan in disgust and lay back on her chair until her head stopped spinning.

That godforsaken heat…

She heard soft footsteps on the carpet and sat up, thinking it Mariette with her brandy. Alphonse dropped to his knees in front of her and clutched her skirts. For a couple of heartbeats she thought that she was hallucinating. His smooth cheeks were flushed and his lips moved silently in entreaty. She didn’t bother to cover herself even as her nipples hardened in his gaze.

“Madame de Cuvelier.” He rubbed his lips against her dress.

“It’s Vivienne, Alphonse. You know that.” She gave him an irritated look. His lower lip trembled.

“What happened? I  was in the back garden like you asked. I waited for you.”

She plucked her skirt out of his grasp and rolled her eyes theatrically. “I couldn’t make it, boy. I thought it was perfectly clear why.”

He caressed the silk of her shoe, then bent to kiss it. “My petite oisette; my darling and revered-”

The heat of his saliva soaking through her stocking made her gasp. “Damn it, stop!” She shook her foot, but he squeezed quickly up her leg until he felt flesh. Her expression lost some its haughtiness. His breaths made the skin between her breasts slippery. His hand kept moving until her lips parted in a shaky sigh.

“You’re stubborn but I know your weakness, Mme de Cuvelier.” He smiled up at her as he unbuttoned his breeches. She made a dismissive sound, but her legs parted. His cock made her silk-covered thigh hot. His arm started to move in a practices rhythm that made her eyes go glassy. He licked his way from her nipple to her neck and tasted the mix of chalk and sweat.

Mariette walked in with a clinking tray. Alphonse gave her dreamy grin, his arm never stopping its movement. She curtsied and walked out the other way.

“You’ve trained her well.” He lifted her skirts until he could fit his hips comfortably between her legs.

“Not tonight.” She pushed him away.

“Yes, tonight. More than ever, tonight.” He found her secret spot and kneaded. She went rosy underneath the powder. She wanted to pull his hand from between her legs, but pulled him closer instead.

“You think you know me so well,” she said.

He rubbed his length on her slippery cleft. “Shouldn’t I? He sank into her slowly, never breaking eye contact. She yanked his breeches down further so she could stick a finger in his tight asshole. He fucked her hard and deep. There was no time to waste.

“It’s about time you learned some responsibility,” she panted.

“Says you? Hypocrite.” He sucked the powder from her lips and chin in his desperation for her. She pulled his wig off and raked her fingers through his wavy brown hair, then tugged. She remembered back when he didn’t need to wear a wig and his hair blew free of its ribbon…

Her orgasm rose quickly and made her thighs tighten on his hips. He parted her legs wide and watched as she twitched on his cock. She sank to her knees. Her tongue moved from his lower belly to his balls, licking the wetness from him before taking him into her mouth. His sharp, young musk made her clutch at his hips – his pale skin was a patchwork of old and new bruises. Her mouth made wet sucking noises on his fat cock and his balls tightened in her caressing hand.

“Madame, your brother is on his way up to see you!” There was no time for propriety. Mariette ran to her and started to tug on her skirts before his cock was fully out of her mouth.

He tucked himself into his pants quickly and picked up his wig. “I will come back later, ma petite,” he whispered and kissed her wet lips. “Je t’aime.” He disappeared into a secret door behind the screen.

Her maid whisked the heavy skirts away, grabbed her wig and handed her a robe. She took off her stockings and arranged herself as best as she could. There was a knock on the door.

“Vivienne! It’s me,” her brother said gruffly. Mariette scrambled into the other room, top-heavy with taffeta.

“Come in,” she said. Her hand shook as she poured herself a brandy. She was just downing it when he walked in.

“Crude, Vivi. Very crude,” he said, and sat down on the chair that was still damp with sex. “It’s a bit close in here. Where’s Mariette? The windows need to be opened.”

“What is it?” She saw her reflection in the mirror and blanched. Her makeup was tellingly smudged. She walked away from the candlelight and pretended to be searching for a book on her desk.

He gave a critical look. “Do you have any idea how much explaining I had to do tonight? Why the devil didn’t you stay for the engagement announcement? Mme de Desmarais was beside herself, not to mention madamoiselle Colombe.”

“I’ve been feeling ill for a couple of days now. Headaches. All the confounded candles you lit in that ballroom didn’t help, Leon.” She touched her temple dramatically.

He rolled his eyes. “Mme de Desmarais insisted on it.”

“Silly twat.”

He gave her an intense look that made her uncomfortable. “Where is Mariette? I want some of that brandy.”

“You can serve yourself, you know. You can also open your own windows. I’m living proof your arms will not fall off.” She opened the window wide and sighed at the cool night breeze. “See?” She heard him pouring behind him. “So, how did it go then?” The moon was shrouded with pregnant rain clouds.

“Well enough. Maurice is happy enough, and that’s the way I mean to keep it. His business is vital to the further growth of the firm.”

“Yes,” she said. “Very true.” She shivered violently.

“To make things worse, Alphonse decided to disappear after the announcement. Colombe spent  the rest of the evening showing off her bauble alone. The girl didn’t even seem to mind.” He laughed. “Pretty little thing she is. I hope she doesn’t blow up into a frightful hag like Aceline.”

“That’s a very nice thing to say about your wife, brother.” She poured herself another brandy and swirled the amber liquid in the glass. “Anyway, Colombe is young and foolish. She’s just happy she’s marrying a handsome, very rich man.” Again, she drank the liquor down in one gulp.

“Foolish or not, he needs to keep her and her family happy. I’ll not lose money over one of his ridiculous dalliances.” She nearly dropped her glass. “I’d rather send him far away until the wedding than risk having him ruin it all over a fire-quimmed whore or two.”

She sat down heavily. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Maybe London. I’ve got a couple of offices over there…but I don’t care. Anywhere but here, where it’s obvious to everyone he’s got his mind on other things.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?” she asked. Alphonse had made it perfectly clear to everyone that he despised London.

“I can do whatever I want when it comes to my son…and more importantly, my business,” he said. He slammed his glass too hard on the silver tray.

“True, Léon, but isn’t the wedding next year? He’ll have to be in London for over seven months!”

“I know, but his disappearance tonight was dangerous. We must take care. I’ll just send him there for a couple of months until the heat’s off if he promises to behave when he gets back. No more dalliances.”

“I imagine you’ll have a devil of a time convincing him-”

He cut her off. “Oh no. It’s already done. He leaves at dawn.”

The tiniest moan escaped her lips. Even if it was just a couple of months, she’d be back in Paris by the time he got back. “I see.” She massaged her temple unconsciously. “Etienne shall miss his presence at cards on the weekends.”

Her brother gave her a sidelong glance. “Shall he? I thought your husband didn’t like cards.”

“Oh, he loves to gamble. But he’s not as good as Alphonse.” She could still smell traces of his musk on her hands.

“It’s just a game, Maria. I’m sure he’ll find something else to entertain him.” He got up. “I’m going to talk to Aceline. She won’t be terribly happy at the news.”

“Of course. Good night.”

As his valet closed the door behind him, the candle beside her went out.

About ximenawrites

I undulate in your vision A strange beauty in a world of plastic, collagen and steel The endearing oddball the living, breathing Picasso that you want to figure out but too afraid to venture into my penumbra you cower at the gate, fingering the knob on the door to my most secret place wishing you could find the courage to walk with me love me, just as I am

2 comments on “Heat

  1. wordsmithingimp
    July 15, 2012

    I love your attention to detail here, as far as the tone and imagery goes. The bit with the powder-lipped kiss especially made me grin. I think you both captured the era and tossed the stereotype a bit on its ear.

  2. vanillamom
    July 16, 2012

    oh…this is gorgeous. Full and lush as that taffeta skirt..I was sucked in immediately…and left, as your heroine, yearning for more.

    Love, love LOVE it…

    nilla

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This blog contains adult material. If you are a minor, please go. If you are an adult, you are welcome to stay but be warned, this blog contains erotic fiction and images - sexually explicit content abounds. The themes sometimes tend toward the darker and weirder corners. Be your own judge when deciding what to read.

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