Black Lace Quickies 5

by Kerri Sharpe

  ‘I think I’ll keep it on.’ Her words cut through his reverie.

  ‘Yes.’ Lowry nodded. Then changed his mind as he remembered the plans for the evening. ‘No, take it off. It’ll give the right impression for these two.’

  ‘OK.’ She checked her watch. ‘They should be here in about half an hour. Shall I get you a drink?’

  ‘Yes. Please.’

  He turned back to the scene outside, where a barge was passing in a miasma of muffled music. Some other type of pleasure was in progress beneath its canopy, something to do with dancing and celebration. Lowry could hear very little of it thanks to highly effective triple glazing and the ultra-soft hum of the air conditioning.

  ‘Here you are.’ Eva handed him a glass of iced mineral water shot with lemon.

  ‘Thanks.’

  She went to light the musk-scented candles while Lowry sat on the sofa that was nearest to him, sinking into soft grey leather. She took a place opposite, relaxed but not languid, perched on the edge, poised for immediate action if necessary. Her swishy skirt draped around her knees, flowing in raspberry ripples, the fragile, clingy fabric strangely at odds with her organisational precision. It was just the right touch, thought Lowry, suggestive of the softly feminine in service to the male.

  ‘Well?’ She raised an eyebrow in question. ‘Tell me about these guests.’

  He crossed one long leg over the other. ‘Barristers. Both successful. One divorced, the other unattached and ambitious. Both, therefore, always ready to accept dinner invitations. Of course, they work alongside some highly respected women and I think might like the idea of an attractive …’ He was at a loss for the correct term.

  ‘Waitress? Housekeeper?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Or maybe the au pair. That would make you a dad,’ she teased.

  He laughed. Eva smiled, a gentle change to an otherwise rather serious demeanour.

  ‘Isn’t there something you should be doing?’ he said.

  ‘No. Everything’s under control.’

  Of course it was. He held her gaze, hoping to find a sign of tension or worry or excitement in her face, but no. She appeared to be calm and untroubled. He lowered his eyes to the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed evenly. Her top was clingy but not overtly sexy. She was one of those women who managed to be alluring without having to try. Classy and sensual. She moved slightly and he was amused to see the outline of a nipple becoming erect. Yes! What was she thinking? he wondered. He almost wished that his guests were not about to disturb this moment.

  And then they did. The buzzer sounded.

  Eva turned to glance at the intercom then back to Lowry. ‘Well, here we go.’ Her lips parted slightly. Was that the suggestion of a blush? Maybe Madame La Chef was not quite as cool as the cucumber that she had diced earlier.

  They both stood, each tuning in to the anticipation that sizzled silently between them. Then Eva turned to go back into the kitchen while Lowry crossed to the intercom.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Lowry, it’s Blake,’ came the disembodied voice.

  ‘Blake! Come on up.’ He pressed the door-release button. In fact it was Blake and Sebastian, arriving together. Lowry took a deep breath. Yes, here we go.

  ‘Good to see you again, Lowry.’ Three pairs of eyes surveyed all that lay before them. Introductions and niceties duly observed, the men had drifted to the window to look down upon their world. ‘Lovely sunset.’ Muttered agreement followed by a pause. ‘Sebastian and I are eager to clinch the deal ASAP.’

  ‘Gentlemen, let’s get straight to the point. Might I suggest that we sign the papers straight away and then relax into the evening? What do you think?’

  ‘Good idea.’

  With contracts duly signed and deftly secreted into Lowry’s briefcase, it seemed appropriate that the three men took a sofa each, as if mapping out their own territories.

  Eva appeared centre stage with a tray of glasses and decanter.

  The three pairs of eyes followed her every move. Lowry was momentarily mesmerised by the thin gold chain that now circled her ankle. She had removed her shoes and the toenails glowed with a polished redcurrant sheen that matched her top. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled inwardly. She always did this, threw in a surprise for him, something off key.

  ‘This is Eva, here to help me.’

  ‘In the absence of your culinary skills, eh, Lowry? Good evening, Eva,’ said Blake.

  Sebastian greeted her and managed not to allow his eyes to travel over her body until she had turned away. A gentleman indeed. He will probably be the one to watch, thought Lowry.

  He frowned. ‘Eva, be careful. You’ve splashed drips on the tray. Wipe it, please.’ The stopper slipped from her fingers and dropped to the floor with a small thud. She hastily retrieved it and disappeared back into the steamy world of ‘kitchen’.

  The conversation was genially challenging and flowed with the ease of whisky-lubricated tongues and the natural loquacity of all three men. There was the time-honoured rumble of undulating male voice as they analysed various aspects of the financial, commercial and sporting worlds.

  The briefcase disappeared as Eva tidily removed it.

  ‘It’s nice and cool here. I was in chambers today. No air conditioning or none to speak of. Almost a sauna! Sweated buckets – and then went on to the gym. Sucker for punishment. Must be crazy.’ Lowry smiled politely at Blake, appreciating the well-toned physique of his guest, and took a sip of his extremely diluted drink.

  Sebastian’s eyes had been slowly taking in all the aesthetic detail of their surroundings. ‘Have you been here long, Lowry?’

  ‘Oh, about eighteen months.’

  ‘Nice place.’

  That’s not all you like the look of, thought Lowry. Eva had come from the kitchen with a salver of canapés, offering to Blake first. Lowry was amused. Was that a wink? But as Eva went to Sebastian her foot caught the edge of the sumptuous rug and a slip of crab and tomato landed on his thigh as the salver tilted mid-stumble.

  Eva’s cheeks flushed an almost match to the tomato. ‘Excuse me, I’m so sorry.’ She hurried to fetch a cloth. As she knelt before him and dabbed at Sebastian’s thigh, it seemed that anger was not the prevalent emotion.

  ‘Please, don’t worry. Accidents happen. I hope you didn’t twist your ankle or anything.’

  Eva smiled her gratitude. ‘No. I’m fine, thanks. Maybe I’ll just leave these here,’ she said, placing the salver on a small side table. She refilled the glasses, a mere drop into Lowry’s, and escaped once again to the kitchen.

  The sun had finally given up on the day, with blood-red streaks fading to salmon pink in the sky upriver. Lowry pressed a button and curtains slid smoothly to drape across the window, effectively shutting them away from the dusky world behind a barrier of peppermint-tinged voile. Another button and unobtrusive lighting glowed into luminescence at the room’s perimeter with subtle invasions of the deepening shadows.

  As the men took their places at the table, they moved into an area of fragrant candlelight, teasing the senses up a notch.

  Lowry watched and bided his time. Voices were raised and laughter became louder.

  ‘They don’t accept blame, of course, but nonetheless agreed to …’

  Eyes followed Eva each time that she served or cleared.

  ‘… even though the main witness was out of the country. Diabolical!’

  Emerald green of watercress soup was matched by the blackcurrant of richly red wine.

  ‘… used to have an MG, real sporty little model …’

  Fingers broke into softness through the crisp crust of recently baked rolls and creamy butter melted onto the warm freshness.

  ‘… advised to buy shares in all things African or Olympian …’

  ‘… a field day for construction companies!’

  The bed of rice was bright with yellow, red, orange and sprinkled speckles of leafy green.

  ‘Eva,
more wine please.’ Then in a whisper that could be overheard: ‘Will you take more care of my guests! You are being lax.’

  The two men politely covered any embarrassment with complimentary remarks about succulence and taste, admiring the tenderness of the stuffed pheasant that had been soaked in a complex marinade.

  Meanwhile, Eva refilled the glasses, gliding silently from man to man.

  ‘So what is it exactly that you do, Lowry?’ Sebastian asked.

  Blake was taking a mouthful of rice when the bottle slipped in Eva’s fingers and caught the rim of the tall-stemmed goblet. The glass tipped over with a small crash, spilling wine in a trickle, which seemed to catch the vivid sunset. All four watched it in silence until Blake overlaid his napkin and stemmed the flow. ‘Everything under control. Nothing broken.’ He laughed, putting the goblet to rights again. ‘A little mishap, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ said Lowry, his face stern. He looked at Eva. ‘Come here.’

  She went across and stood before him. ‘I’m sorry, Lowry.’

  ‘I’m not amused. You have embarrassed me enough in front of my guests.’ He threw his napkin onto the table.

  Silence and stillness seeped through the room as each person knew that something was about to happen. A flicker of unease rippled between the two guests. Or was it excitement? They glanced at each other but kept their silence, intrigued. Nerves of expectation began to bubble.

  The man and woman held each other’s gaze and neither backed down.

  ‘Are you going to punish me?’ Her voice was huskily soft with a slight tremor. ‘I didn’t mean to be disrespectful to your guests.’

  ‘Nevertheless, you were disrespectful.’

  Blake opened his mouth to speak then changed his mind and shut it again.

  Lowry slid his chair back a little from the table. ‘You must take more care and I intend to see that you will remember this in future.’ There he paused. Neither of them looked to the two men nor spoke to them. It was almost as if the guests were no longer there; as if the two of them were alone, locked in a byplay of their own.

  Then she moved, taking a small step towards Lowry. He took her wrist and pulled her across his knees. He did not need to be forceful; she was acquiescent, even willing.

  It was obvious what was about to take place. Blake and Sebastian were shocked but didn’t interfere. Their silence became a collusion that held them on the periphery. They were watchers, waiting for the inevitable moment when Lowry would pull up her skirt. Would he also pull down her knickers?

  He did neither. He simply rested his hand in the small of her back and spanked her, hard enough for her to wriggle and gasp. Then he stopped abruptly with his hand left lying on the curve of her bottom. ‘Gentlemen, do you think that I am being too lenient?’

  They were instantly drawn further into this bizarre happening.

  Blake shifted to make himself more comfortable but did not speak.

  A pause followed that didn’t last long but was filled to its brim with seething excitement. ‘Maybe you should be a little more stern,’ said Sebastian, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

  Lowry smiled a private smile. Yes, they were hooked.

  Without looking at the other two men, he slid his hand down her skirt then pulled it up, pinning it to her waist with his arm. He rested his hand on the strawberry-crush redness of her knickers, squeezing the plumpness gently. He was aware of a slight movement as Sebastian leaned forwards fractionally. He could feel the anticipation of his guests as they feasted their eyes.

  The lightly scented air had suddenly become highly charged.

  With deliberate slowness, Lowry began to pull down her knickers until they were halfway down her thighs, leaving the buttocks naked between the dual shocks of colour. The plumpness was firm and creamy, with a light garnish of pink finger marks. Lowry proceeded to spank her further. Eva began to squirm deliciously and then actually squealed, although it was a sound closer to delight than pain.

  When he had finished, Lowry told her to get up. Eva slipped from his knees to stand before him. ‘Hold up your skirt.’ She did so, pulling it up to her waist and he felt two pairs of eyes searching greedily for a further glimpse. He was quick to pull up her knickers before they had a chance to see much, leaving them wanting more. ‘Now maybe you will remember to take more care.’ He slid his chair near to the table and continued eating.

  ‘Yes, Lowry.’ Eva turned and went back into the kitchen, rubbing her bottom as she went.

  The two men were stunned. For a few moments they were speechless.

  ‘Gentlemen, please, continue your meal,’ said Lowry conversationally, as if the recent scenario was commonplace instead of extraordinary. He smiled a challenge at them.

  Blake spluttered a short laugh. ‘Ha! Well … you certainly have a way with women!’

  ‘Don’t I just!’

  Sebastian kept his silence. There were the sounds of cutlery, as each man carried on with his meal. Appetites had certainly been whetted.

  Talk turned into falsely quotidian conversation as minds were elsewhere.

  Lowry watched for reaction. He peered through the glass top of the table, well aware that the other two men were extremely aroused but could do nothing about it. However surreptitious, any fumbling would be on full view through a glass darkly and so they remained horny but civilised. What a paradox! Well, gents, where do I take you from here?

  He had promised his guests a bonus. What had they expected? he wondered: gambling, drugs, a blue movie? Maybe, but not Eva, a prize indeed, the cherry-topped icing on the cake.

  He watched as they glanced around the room, unsure if the lights had dimmed or not. The atmosphere seemed to have become warmer, with softer lighting, red infused.

  As Eva came to clear the plates he knew that each man was thinking of the pink-marked bottom. Was there a faintly accentuated wiggle to her walk? Eating suddenly became a serious business as the men concentrated on their meal.

  Dessert arrived in the shape of baked Alaska, offering another paradoxical delight. The coolness of fruit and ice cream, trapped by the sudden heat of stiff white meringue.

  Eat the message, gentlemen.

  Eva hovered, ready to pour sweet dessert wine, very carefully, of course.

  There was appreciative chat while the diners added a trickle of cream and hopefully awaited further mishap, which sadly did not happen.

  Lowry allowed himself two mouthfuls before placing his spoon decisively onto his plate. ‘This cream isn’t fresh.’

  There was silence as the men looked at him, spoons suspended mid-air. Then Blake spoke. ‘No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Seems fine to me.’ He gesticulated vaguely with his spoon.

  ‘Actually, I agree with Lowry,’ said Sebastian, also laying his spoon on the plate.

  I knew you’d be the one to watch, thought Lowry.

  Blake shifted in his seat. ‘Well, now I think about it, maybe you’re right.’ He too put down his spoon.

  Three pairs of eyes surveyed the woman beside them. She gently placed the bottle on the table and remained still.

  Lowry allowed the tension to build a little then spoke. ‘Fetch what I want, please.’ They’re practically drooling, he thought.

  Eva disappeared briefly into the kitchen, to return moments later with a spatula in her hand. It was made of soft wood, quite small and very light.

  She gave it to Lowry. He took it and patted it thoughtfully on his thigh. ‘To chastise the cook with her own tool.’ He raised an eyebrow in rhetorical question and looked at the men, pulling them into his game. ‘Appropriate, don’t you think?’ They said nothing, did nothing.

  He stood, pushing back his chair, then slowly slid his plate away to leave a space in front of him. He moved behind Eva and pulled up her skirt.

  A thin sheen of sweat glistened on Blake’s upper lip.

  Sebastian remained cool.

  She was calm, complacent. ‘Pu
ll down your knickers,’ Lowry demanded. She pulled them down to her knees. Her nipples were erect beneath the clingy fabric and her lips parted as her breathing came faster.

  Blake looked at the top of her thighs, seemingly mesmerised by her shaven mound and the butterfly that had landed there in the form of a tattoo. He wanted to touch it, Lowry knew. The wings were outspread as if hovering, poised, ready to take flight.

  Sebastian’s eyes ran over her exposed body and the tip of his tongue passed across his lips. I know what you want to do, thought Lowry.

  ‘Bend over,’ Lowry said. Eva bent over the table where he had cleared it. He took the spatula firmly in his hand and lifted it, letting it hover for a moment. Then the sound of slapping cut through the air as he began to chastise her.

  After a few slaps, Eva began to moan but it was not a cry of pain. She reached out her arms and gripped the edges of the table. Her lips were parted and her face was flushed. The soft smacks continued then Lowry stopped and dropped the spatula onto the table.

  He stepped close to her, his belly pressing against her bottom and his knee pushing between her thighs in a stance that said, ‘I am her master.’ He reached to take the clip from her hair, which tumbled like a mane around her face. He buried a hand in the unruly curls, gripping and pulling up her head. Dipping a finger into the melting ice cream, he slid it between her lips. The men watched, fascinated, as she licked the finger.

  ‘I offer you the final dish of the night, gentlemen. Not quite whipped cream.’ He smiled, his fingers beginning to slide along her pouting lips, her tongue flicking the tips.

  He released her, feeling the fizz around the table like bubbles in a champagne bottle about to explode. He stepped back, slipping his hand smoothly into his pocket.

  There was no pretence that this was now anything but sexual. Lowry had given a clear message and the woman was obviously compliant. Blake was about to make a move.

  At that moment, Lowry pressed ‘Call’ on the mobile in his pocket. A telephone rang. Eva stood, her skirt falling into place around her. Everyone was stilled.

  After five rings Lowry went over to answer. ‘Lowry here.’ A pause. ‘Hold the line please.’ He replaced the receiver. ‘Excuse me. This is a call I must take.’ He walked over to a door. ‘I’ll be some minutes. Please, continue.’ And he left them.