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The Longest Night: A Meridian Society Christtmas (TheCorsair & Madame Mim)

Sam joined Anne Marie at the door to the cellar, listening to Kieran's explanation. "An' you watch yer fuckin' mouth!" she shouted down the stairs. "You hear me, Kieran? Anne Marie's a real lady, an' she don't need ta hear shit like that!" An indistinct noise that coukd have been "fuck you" exhied up the stairs, making her laugh. "Y'ain't my type," she shouted down. "An' Ah ain't yours, neither!"

She was still chuckling as she returned to the table. "Is it as much fun ta wind him up as Ah think it is? Or is it th' booze?" Piicking up the bottle, she stared fuzzily at it before putting it back on tge table. "Either way, Ah reckon Ah oughta cut mahself off. Don' wanna pass out, 'fore Ah celebrate mah engagement."

Just then, Professor Swift emerged from the cellar in shirtsleeves with a ripped elbow and grease on his face. "Bloody Yank engineering," he grumbled, grabbing the bottle of scotch. "Bodgy things gone walkabout, it has." Discovering the bottle empty, he glared at it as if personally affronted. Then, with a grimace, he sat down. "It's as fixed as it'll ever be, in Erik's professional opinion. So it'll work well enough to keep us from freezing our balls off, but that's about it."

Thumping the bottle down, he glared at Sam. For her part, she was biting her lip and trying not to laugh. "What?" he demanded. "I'm a bloody Aussie, aren't I? Means I'm allowed to lair it up once, time to time. Now pass the billy, cause I need a cuppa."
 
"Oh it's incredibly fun," Anne Marie agreed with a grin. "Get him on the subject of sea turtles sometime. It's positively enthralling. Better than the ballet." She polished off her cake and nodded in agreement when Sam posited that she ought to lay off the whiskey. "Mais ouis. I don't know how you do it; that much liquor puts me off completely. I fall asleep before we even get anywhere."

Algie ascended from the cellar and Anne Marie had to cover her mouth with both hands. She was trying not to, since she knew he was incredibly irritated if he was letting his accent slip so severely. "Here," she offered, standing and gesturing to a chair. "You sit and do try not to touch anything."

Anne Marie was quick to pour him a cup of tea. Once he was settled she crossed to the sink to dampen a towel then set it next to the cup along with a cake of soap. From the cellar came more swearing, from more than one person, but Anne Marie ignored it and sectioned out the remainder of the cake and brought some to Algie. Her hand rested for the barest of moments on his shoulder as she leaned over to set it on the table before settling herself in the chair next to him.

"Well, it's fixed enough?" she inquired, an ocean of questions behind it.

"For now," Erik said as he mounted the top step, wiping his hands on a rag they'd found behind the boiler. "Kieran swore that cursing would help, but I don't see the results if I'm honest."

"It works on the Wench!" the pirate protested, trooping up behind.
 
"Shouting and kicking is hardly an optimal repair strategy," the Professor murmured, taking a bite of the cake. "But, given how little any other attempt worked, I can hardly fault you for attempting it. And this cake is a delight, Anne Marie."

"Ain't it, though?" Sam said, grinning. "Reckon' Ah outta learn how ta do it mahself. Ah'm a bit outta mah depth if'n Ah ain't roastin' or stewin' somethin'."

Colin was last up the stairs, trouser knees grimy and hands covered with grease and dirt. He took a place behind Erik, who was busily scrubbing his hands, and waited his turn. "I don't think that last kick did the reactor any favors, though."

Algernon snorted. "Wretched thing. I could have put three rounds in it, and it would have done no less harm." He scowled. "Maybe it would have helped. It would be out of its misery now, at least." He took another bite of cake, then washed it down with a swallow of tea. "Still, as I remarked, at least we won't freeze. We may be double-bunking again tonight, though."

"Aw shucks," Sam giggled. "Guess Ah'll have ta make th' best o' it." She reached over and grabbed Erik's hand, dragging him around and pulling him onto her lap. "Ain't enough chairs ta go 'round," she told him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her cheek against hsi back. "So you'll have ta sit here. Y'know, so everyone has a place?"

Colin rolled his eyes, and took a seat. "I see there isn't any cake left?"

"Naw," Sam agreed. "Sure ain't. Me an Annie ate it all. Ate every bit o' it, 'cept what th' Professor done got." Grinning, she pulled Erik back to whisper in his ear as she ran her hands over his chest. "Got me somethin' else y'kin eat tonight, though..."
 
"Thank you Algernon," Anne Marie said with a grin. Even a bit soused she knew better than to call him Algie in front of the others. "I'll teach you some time, Samantha. I'm no good at most other sorts of cooking, but nothing keeps the wolves at bay better than a well-baked cake."

She sat back, pleased with herself as the others tromped up the stairs and waited their turns to wash their hands. Erik dried his once they were finally clean and his nails scrubbed, and found himself pulled into Sam's lap once he was close enough. She smelled of scotch, which explained a lot, but he wouldn't begrudge her the celebration. When she whispered in his ear, though, was when he pinkened. "Samantha..."

"Dear God take it upstairs!" Kieran moaned as he watched Sam groping Erik and whisper what was assuredly lewd suggestions in his ear. "And you ate the cake? Really? We men folk dirty ourselves trying to keep you lot warm and only the Professor gets any?" He snickered at his own accidental entendre, unable to scold Anne Marie in any serious manner.

"Of course we saved you some!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, are the three of you blind?" She rose from her seat again and put the three slices of the remaining quarter of the cake on plates and brought them to the table, muttering about having to do everything, and something about children. "Well, at least we shan't have lonely Christmas mornings, hm? Not waking up to cold beds or anything like that?" She tried to sound like she was putting a positive spin on an awkward situation, but secretly twined her own ankle around Algie's under the table.
 
"Always liked Christmas," Sam mumbled, leaning against Erik as he ate. "Didn't have much, but pa did his level best. An' th' Mission did get us as well. Always got a new dress an' shoes, an' even got a doll, once."

"I...". Colin looked at her curiously, wondering how to best phrase his question. "I never would have taken you for someone who played with dolls."

Sam chuckled. "Her name was Ari, an' she was a princess." Her head swiveled around, as if daring the others to comment. "Sowed her a letter title white dress, an' made her a little spear outta stick, an' we'd kill dragons." Grinning happily at the memory, she rested her cheek on Erik's back.

"Kill dragons?" Algernon asked.

"Ah loved mah pa's fairy stories," Sam replied softly, enjoying Erik's back. "An' pa'd tell me stories about princesses a'fightin' monsters ta save princes. Said he wasn't rightly sure what a princess did, but he fell fer mah ma th' night th' two o' 'em tore up a bar in a big ol' brawl, an' any princess worth her salt could do th' same."

That Lin chewed down a bite of cake. "This explains so much"

The Professor nodded. "Indeed." He gave Anne Marie a quick look. "And waking up warm on Christmas does sound quite pleasant." He frowned as a thought struck him. "The candles on the tree are electric. We should test to see if we are able to light them. If not...". He wracked his brain. "I believe I have additional candles we can put up."

"After that," Colin offered, "I can mix up eggnog. What's Christmas without that? And I think you can drink it Erik. Milk and eggs together are still kosher, right?"

A thought struck Sam. "Erik? Once we git hitched, we kin still celebrate Christmas, right? Even though Ah'll be a Jew?"
 
"I can see it," Kieran announced after staring at Sam for a few moments. "Little pigtailed Sam running around with a doll in tinfoil armor." He nodded. "Yup. I see it."

"You father was right, Schatze," Erik said softly, enjoying the feeling of Sam leaning against his back. "Any princess worth her salt can slay a dragon and upend a bar." He smiled to himself before taking another bite. It did explain much, but he was glad of it. If they ever had a daughter, he would teach her the same thing that hopefully she would grow up as strong and wonderful as her mother.

"My parents usually got me books," Anne Marie put in thoughtfully, sipping her tea. "They believed in the power of books." She didn't often talk about her parents--she didn't remember them very well if she were completely honest--but she figured since it was Christmas there was no harm in indulging that little tidbit before returning her attention to Algie. "I like real candles anyway," she sniffed, sliding her foot affectionately along his calf then back down to his ankle. "They have a certain sort of glow that electric ones don't."

Erik thought on Colin's question for a moment, then nodded. "Yes it is, so long as it isn't consumed in a meal with meat," he said, not mentioning that technically he would have to be the one making it for it to be kosher. God would understand, he was certain. When Sam asked whether they could celebrate Christmas his heart fell. It took a long moment before he had the heart to answer her.

"Schatze...Jews don't celebrate Christmas," he said softly. "We don't believe Jesus was the Messiah. You don't have to convert, you know. My parents may care, but I fell in love with you just as you are. God would not have put you in my path if you weren't meant for me, regardless of your religion." He turned to kiss her forehead. Sam seemed to genuinely love Christmas, for the atmosphere and tradition if not for religious purposes, and if he were entirely honest he really didn't care. Erik wasn't as devout as his parents, and didn't care whether he married a Christian or a Jew, but if Sam converted...well, he just wouldn't feel right celebrating Christmas when there was no need.

"Knew a man who married a Muslim," Kieran said loudly, trying to navigate out of the sudden awkwardness. "Still married after fifteen years and they get along great. No bacon to be seen, but the sacrifices we make for love, eh?"
 
"Huh, don' celebrate Christmas," Sam murmured. "Go figure. Ah wondered why y'all didn't wanna be wit' yer folks fer th' holidays." Feeling suddenly very tired, she leaned her cheek against his back once more. "Jes' reckoned Ah'd be convertin', y'know? Ain't much difference betwixt th' two, far as Ah kin see, not in th' important stuff. An' it'd make matters easier fer yer m... fer yer folks."

"Faith is a personal matter, Samantha. A question of where your heart calls, and something that lies between you and your maker." Everyone stared, surprised, as Professor Swift spoke. "Convert if that is what you truly wish, but never feel you should compromise your own beliefs to make another happy. Because it will not make you happy in turn."

Colin blinked. "I thought you were an atheist, Professor."

"I am," he replied, turning a little to look at Sam and Erik. "But that hardly means I have no experience in these matters, nor any practical advice to offer."

"I..." Colin thought. "My oldest brother was raised Church of England, and his wife is an American. Would that help, any?" He glanced at Kieran. "It's not precisely the same as a Christian and a Muslim, but..."

"Ah don't reckon it would, Colin," Sam laughed. "Yankees an' Confeds both eat shellfish, last Ah checked." Her arms tightened around Erik's waist. "Well, whether Ah convert or not, Ah'll have ta learn me some new recipes. A reckon country ham an' crawdads are off th' menu."
 
"Blimey," Kieran muttered, baffled that the Professor had anything at all to say on the matter of faith. He wasn't surprised that Anne Marie wasn't surprised; they'd known each other forever, and had probably talked about it before. Instead she absently picked a crumb off of his plate as he advised Sam.

"Professor Swift is right, Liebchen," Erik said gently. "Your faith is where your heart calls you, and it doesn't make any difference to me where that might be so long as it doesn't take you from me." He twisted and kissed her temple and rubbed her shoulder. The pressure of her arms around his waist was comforting, as was the notion that she had been willing to convert for him without a second thought. At the suggestion that she might need to find new recipes he laughed. "Indeed," he agreed with a chuckle. "At the very least at Hanukkah."

"American isn't exactly a religion, is it?" Anne Marie pointed out to Colin. "They've got all sorts of religions over there."
 
"Perhaps not," Colin allowed. "But they seem to hold their allegiance to their nation in higher regard than any faith they might possess. The Union and the Confederacy in particular, although citizens of Canada, Deseret, and Mexico have similar tendencies."

"MĂ©xico es Romano CatĂłlico," Sam interjected through a yawn. "TenĂ­a que ir a Misa casa Domingo, guste o no." She peered over Erik's shoulder as everyone stared at her, and shook her head emphatically. No me gustĂł mucho."

"On that note," Algernin chuckled, "perhaps youbshould go to bed, Samantha?"

"Ahora," Sam purred, running her hands over Erik's chest, "me gusta..."

"And sleep, I think he means," Colin added, concentrating on his slice of cake. Erik's stricken expression was just comical enough that he knew he'd laugh if he looked, and he didn't want to offend the man. Or have a drunk Sam thriw a punch at him, for that matter.

"Oh, lo haré," Sam sniggered, playing with Erik's hair. "Finalmente."
 
Erik tried not to look too terribly embarrassed as Sam said suggestive things, but turned his ever-reddening face to the last of his cake because he knew he wasn't hiding it very well. Even if Spanish were difficult to understand, the way she said it was patently obvious. And the shame was that she was far too drunk for them to be doing any sort of celebrating. Unable to stand the embarrassment any longer Erik stood.

"I definitely think it is bedtime," he agreed with the others, bending to pick Sam up at the waist and sling her over his shoulder like a potato sack. Ignoring any protests, he bade the others goodnight and carried her upstairs to their bedroom to help her get undressed for bed.

Kieran sniggered and shook his head. "Can't hold her liquor," he chuckled.

"Oh I think she can," Anne Marie contradicted politely. "But she had an awful lot of it. Most of the bottle. Frankly I'm a little surprised she was still upright at that point." Her foot continued to wander up and down Algie's calf, wishing they could retire for the evening as well. But it would look suspicious if they both went at once while the Captains stayed up. "Not that I didn't have some, but not nearly as much."
 
Algernon tried not to jump as a foot - Anne Marie's, presumably - traced his calf. Yes, definitly Anne Marie, based on the excessively innocent expression she wore as she spoke of the amount of drinking the two of them had done. "Most of the bottle?" he asked, examining the bottle of scotch. It was good stuff, but nit ine of his best. "I suppose we should be grateful they're engaged. This is high proov liquor, and even a small amount can lower one's inhibitions. Why, anything could happen..."

"I don't think Sam needs her inhibitions lowered," Colin grimaced. "It may be ungentlemanly of me to say this, but I'm grateful the walls here are thick enough to deaden sound." He shook his head and poured himself a cup of tea.

"Yes," Algernon remarked dryly, glancing quickly at Anne Marie. "I think we can all be grateful for that."



Sam squirmed in Erik's grip, thoroughly enjoying the way he'd picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Sure, she loved his gentle, bookish nature. But damn if him getting all manly and flexing his muscles didn't get her hot! And the view of his ass as he mounted the stairs wasn't bad either. Grinning, she reached down and grabbed it, enjoying the feel of hard muscle under her hand. All the extra exercise she'd taljed him into was clearly paying off.

Of course, the way he wiggled and jumped when she grabbed him nearly dumped her on the stairs. But it was worth it. "Dios," she laughed, hanging on for dear life, "tienes un bonito culo."

Be swayed more as he fumbled with the door, and then she watched him kick it shut behind them. Then the world spun crazily, and she was flat on her back staring up at him as he bent over her. Before he could let go ifher, she snaked her arms ariund him and pulled him down into a kiss. Her leg slid around his, and she grinned at the feel of his weight pressing down into her. "Bajarse los pantalones," she growled, fumbling with his shirt. "Te quuero dentro de mĂ­." She ground her hips up into his, biting his lower lip as she did. "Ahora."
 
"And what does their engagement have to do with anything?" Anne Marie asked archly. "Such archaic views of sex, both of you." She tsked and shook her head, but there was a twinkle in her eye when she glanced at Algie.

"Hear hear," Kieran put in, though it wasn't clear what he was agreeing to: the archaic views of sex or a gratitude for thick walls. "Might wanna leave the taps dripping though, mate. Heard the pipes knocking about last night."

"Mm as did I," Anne Marie agreed. "How long has it been since the plumbing's been updated, Algernon?" Regardless of his answer, Anne Marie drained her tea and yawned. "Oh but I am afraid the skating quite took it out of me, as the Americans say. I haven't been able to skate like that in a very long time. It was lovely, but I'm afraid I must retire a bit early since I am quite exhausted." After bidding everyone goodnight Anne Marie mounted the stairs with a gentle sway of the hips. She waited for Algie in bed, garters peeking out from beneath her black silk negligee to hold up her stockings. A trail of clothes, beginning with the day's dress and ending with her panties, led from the door to the bed.

"Merry Christmas, Algernon," she purred, eyeing him with a carnal desire she'd been fighting to hide all day.

~*~

Erik jumped up the last few stairs, startled at the sudden squeeze of his buttocks but not surprised. He was just grateful that the others probably hadn't seen. He chuckled and shook his head when she complimented it.

"¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he muttered, shaking his head again and smiling a little.

He laid her on the bed as carefully as he could, but there wasn't much for it but to dump her on her back. Erik tried to straighten but found himself pulled down into a kiss. His cock twitched as she pulled him against her and begged for him. He kissed her lips, her neck, her shoulders, but groaned in arousal and regret.

"It isn't right," he murmured, pulling away gently and shaking his head. "You wouldn't even remember it. I could never take advantage of you like that." He kissed her forehead gently. "I'm sorry, Schatze."
 
English. That's right, he preferred to talk English with the rest of the Society. So, with an effort, Sam wrenched her scattered thoughts around. "Take advantage, mi corazon?" she laughed, dragging him back close and kissing his nose. Nit deliberatly, but because she'd missed his lips. "No, no, mi amor. Not 'advantage'. Jes' me."

Her hands found his hips, tugging at his pants as she kissed him - successfully, this time. Then she made a throaty sound of frustration as, forgetting to undo his belt, they utterly failed to slide down. "Yer pant's ain't co...coop... ain't comin' off," she pouted, before grabbing his wrists and putting his hands on her breasts. "An' Ah need 'em off, Erik," she insisted with a sigh, "'cause Ah been thinkin' 'bout how good y'all're gonna feel in me fer hours, Erik."

Her lips traced his jaw, and she started nibbling on his neck. "A. Want. Y'all. Ta. Fuck. Me."



Algernin watched discretely as Anne Marie mounted the stairs, and entertained a brief fantasy if mounting her on the stairs. Of kneeling upon one step, her legs wrapped around his hips. Her back arched, offering her breasts to his lips as he entered her. Then, with an act of will, he turned his attention to the remains of his cake.

Finally, stretching, he yawned. "I fear the skating exhausted me as well," he declared. "Not the sort of exercise I'm accustoned to." Rising, he looked at the dishes and then shrugged. "The washing up can wait until morning, I suspect. This is a holiday, after all. Good night, gentlemen."

"Good night, Professor," Colin replied.

The sight he found when he entered his bedroom was breathtaking. Anne Marie in black silk and hose, the rest if her garments strewn across his floor. "Merry Christmas, Algernon," she purred, invitation in her eyes.

It was an effort to walk slowly across the room. "Merry Christmas, Anne Marie," he replied, voice husky. When he reached the bed he leaned over her, not quite touching her body as his lips touched hers, and his muscles shook with the effirt of not simply taking her then and there. He sighed when he drew back, and his eyes remained closed for a moment.

Finally, he smiled. "Am I to unrap you, then? But... you said you were exhausted. Perhaps I should let you rest?"
 
Anne Marie had long been hyper aware of her master and friend's every move and expression. But the way he kissed her, the way he sighed and kept his eyes closed, were new to her given the prior nature of their relationship. The intimacy of being so close but never touching was new and refreshing: men were always eager to snatch her up and hold her close, to posses her, to capture her instead of letting her come to them. She quivered inside, but externally remained composed and gave him a kittenish smile when he asked whether she were tired.

"What?" she teased. "Mère et Père cannot fake a little tiredness to sneak away from the children?" She sighed dramatically. "But I suppose if you're too tired to unwrap your gift--as you so clearly are--it would be improper for me to push the issue and remain here. You're positively shaking with exhaustion."

Anne Marie slid out of bed and stood, their noses mere inches from each other. Her eyes bored into his for a few long moments, intense desire burning in them as she leaned closer. Algie would feel her lips just barely whisper against his as she spoke, not even firm enough to be a ghost of a kiss. "I oughtn't stay in your bed if you are going to sleep," she murmured before sliding by him, between his body and the post, "what would the children say?" Their bodies never quite met, even as a stray fold of silk brushed against his shirt button. "I'll just stay here, shall I?" she offered, sliding up onto a dresser and allowing her stocking feet to dangle half a foot from the floor. "I like to watch you sleep. You're just has handsome then as you are awake."

She watched Algernon as she leaned back on her hands, her body displayed invitingly, and wondered how long they would play their game. Although foreplay hadn't been lacking last night, she wanted them to take their time this time. She wanted to be aching for him, physically hurting as she would if she'd gone too long without food. She needed him as much as she needed food. Maybe moreso. And now she wanted him, and wanted to be positively starved for him.

~*~

Erik's cock throbbed and pressed insistently against Sam's thigh as he leaned over her, hands on her breasts as she described how she'd been thinking about him. The reminder as it caught the light that she would be his wife only made things worse, making him so hard it hurt. God but he wanted her...

But then Sam missed his mouth entirely, and pulled in vain at his trousers as she forgot several crucial steps in undressing him. He sighed, mentally kicking himself. Samantha was going to be his wife, after all; a poor beginning to a marriage this would be, when she was too drunk to remember anything even if she was begging him. It was taking advantage, plain and simple. But the way she said his name...

Finally he thought of something. Gripping her hips, he pulled Sam away gently. "Fifteen minutes, Schatze," he suggested. "If you can go fifteen minutes without me, I know you'll truly want it." He kissed her throat. "Deal?"

Fifteen minutes, he knew, was long enough for her to either pass out or begin sobering up. She wouldn't sober up much in fifteen minutes, but he could keep tricking her into thinking they still had more time until she was sober enough to properly count said passage of time.
 
"Fifteen minutes wit'out you?" Sam repeated, staring up at him as he backed away. The irritation swiftly faded, though, replaced by a sly smile. "Reckon Ah kin do that." With that, squurming a little, she kicked off her boots. As they thumoed to the floor, she arched her hips into the air and pushed her pants diwn, sliding them over her hips and diwn her kegs. Then she lay back, knees bent and thighs spread.

"Ah'd rather have you right niw," she said, her blue eyes ficed on his face as she ran her fingertips over the shaven lips of her pussy. "Have yer tongue on me, tastin' how wet Ah am fer you." There was a soft liquid sound, and she gasped as one finger stroked into her lips and over her clit. Her free hand worked at her blouse, undoung the buttons one by one.

"But Ah kin do fifteen minutes o' you watchin," she purred, cupping a small breast and spreading her legs wider so he could see her finger slide into her cunt. The feel of her walls clenching softly around the digit made her throw her head back, moaning softly. "That what y'wanted, lover? Aaaahhh... ta watch... watch me fuck mahself?"




Algernin slowly followed her from the bed to the dresser, hungrily devouring her with his eyes. "Perhaps I am weary," he said, carefully planting his hands on the wood, close enough to feel the silk of her lingere tickle the hairs of his hand. Then he leaned in, clise enough that her lios nearly brushed hus. Close enough that he coukd feel her warmth and presence on his skin without touching her.

"I could watch you for hours," he whispered, inhaling the heady purfume of her hair and skin. "Watch the gentle motions of your breathing, and the beat of your heart." He shifted a little, lips following her jaw to brush lightly over her hair. "You are the Muses given flesh," he murmured, "an endless well of inspiration."
 
Anne Marie seemed to forget how to breathe for a moment as his breath caressed her skin, but only his breath. Was this how other people felt during sex? When one of her lovers fetishized her feet, or begged her to grind her heel into their hand, or to be choked...was this what that felt like? This was erotica in its purest form. It was the embodiment of sex and love, of desire. She knew it was naive to think that no one had ever felt the way this no-touching game with Algie felt, that it was nothing new under the sun...but she couldn't imagine anyone else being able to feel this way.

"You've become positively a poet," she murmured warmly with a smile, hiding her surprise at this revelation behind a mask of seduction. She leaned in with her lips very nearly brushing his ear and whispered, "You really must love me then."

Her hands moved over his then slid up his arms, always a hairs breadth from contact but never touching. She smiled again and could almost feel his skin under her touch when she reached his face and cupped it as best she could. She wanted to undo the buttons of his shirt, but of course that would be touching, which was against the rules. What rules? Well, she was making them up as she went, and that was definitely one of them.

"I should have kissed you years ago," she whispered, their lips almost brushing. She was intoxicated by the smell of his aftershave. "But it is too late for that; you've said you're weary and so you must go to bed, mustn't you?" Anne Marie slid off of the dresser and ducked away again, always close but never close enough. The wall was cold as she leaned her back against it and silently challenged him to follow. "Perhaps I will watch from here," she suggested. "It has a better view anyway." The bed was still in full view, but on the opposite wall was a mirror she thought might come in handy once they finally fell into that pleasurable abyss together. It was still difficult to believe that anybody had ever been as aroused as she was in that moment.

~*~

This wasn't what he'd meant, but he certainly wouldn't say no. After all, it wasn't exactly taking advantage, was it? She was doing it to herself...and God how good she looked doing it! There was no more helping it; Erik's cock strained at his pants so painfully that he took off his belt and unfastened them, all while watching Sam touch herself.

"Such a filthy mouth," he chided, circling to the side of the bed. "Whatever am I to do with you, Samantha?"

Erik licked his lips as her fingers plunged in and out of her smooth pussy. He wanted to taste her, wanted to make her cum. But she was drunk...he probably shouldn't even be doing this. After warring with himself he sat on the edge of the bed, slowly stroking his throbbing shaft in time with her fingers. The other hand kept a firm grip on the belt, just in case she decided to start getting uppity. Again.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," he murmured before leaning down to kiss her. "But you watch that whore mouth," he warned as he came up for air, "or I'll be putting a stop to it."
 
Sam grinned at Erik and his delicious filthy language as he came up for air, then gently placed her foot on his chest and shoved him back. "Not yet," she reminded him teasingly. "Y'all done said Ah gotta last fifteen minutes, an' that there clock says it's only been five. Got ten more minutes 'fore y'kin fuck me."

Licking and then biting her lip, she rolled onto her belly. With a glance over her shoulder, watching Erik with hungry eyes, she got her knees under herself and pushed her ass into the air. "Besides," she added, stroking her lips with two fingers, then spreading them so he could see, "y'all like me bein' yer whore, don't yeh?" She let out a moan as she slowly pushed her fingers back into her sex, her free hand gripping a fistfull of the covers.

"Gawd," she groaned, back arching. She pushed a third finger in with a wet sound, feeling her juices drip down her hand. Biting her lip she ground her breasts into the quilt, letting the fabric tease her nipples. "Fuck... Erik... y'like watchn'... yer li'l whore... don't yeh?"




"I suppose you are correct," Algernon agreed with a little smile. He mimed a kiss, mimed cupping her face, allowing himself almost to touch her. "I did, after all, say that I was weary. Perhaps I should retire."

Stepping backwards, he untied his tie and tossed it towards her. As the second lord settled across one fetchingly bare shoulder he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, watching her gaze as he meticulously worked each button free. He let it fall to the ground, joining the trail of her clothing. "Ordinarily I am not so messy," he remarked, that neon by his belt. "I must be tired."

His trousers slid down to the floor, leaving my him clad only in undershirt and a pair of boxers that failed to hide the signs of his arousal. He made a show of flexing as he pulled the undershirt over his head and tossing it aside. "I want you," he said, meeting her eyes. "I crave the too cute of your skin n against mine, the taste of your pleasure. I wish to explore you for hours, to exhaust you with love." Then h gave her a sly, playful smile, and then turned and walked towards the bed. "But, as you remind me, I said I was tired. Perhaps I will sleep, instead."
 
When he mimed a kiss Anne Marie mimed right back and grinned, leaning in to play at placing kisses on his throat though he would be able to more sense than feel her lips on his skin. He threatened to go to bed again and stepped back away from her. Anne Marie giggled when Algie tossed his tie at her and it landed across her shoulder. One hand trailed over the dark silk, over her breasts, down between her thighs as Algernon slowly stripped for her. She made no effort to hide her gaze at the obvious tent in his boxers once his trousers hit the floor, then at the way his muscles moved beneath his skin as he pulled off his undershirt. He was fifty or so, but that didn't make him any less toned or muscular than any other man she had been with. Anne Marie bit her lower lip as her eyes flicked up and down his body.

"I want you," he told her frankly. "I crave the touch of your skin against mine, the taste of your pleasure. I wish to explore you for hours, to exhaust you with love." Algie gave her an impish grin she was certain only she had seen in the past twenty years, then turned toward the bed. "But as you remind me, I said I was tired. Perhaps I will sleep, instead."

Two could play at that game, and he certainly wasn't going to be the one who won. Anne Marie picked the tie off of her shoulder and let it slip off of her finger to the floor. "Well even so it would hardly be fair for you to be there in nothing but your underthings while here I am, practically fully clothed," she said casually. Reaching down she grabbed the hem of her negligee and pulled it up over her head then let it fall to the floor. Anne Marie was left in sheer black stockings and the garter belt which held them up. Her breasts swayed gently as she sauntered over to the bed and leaned against the post. "I want you too," she admitted, "but as you are so tired I suppose I shall just have to content myself with sitting here." She leaned over him as though to kiss him, but their lips never touched. Likewise her lips never touched his skin as they traveled down his throat over his chest, across his stomach, lingered at his boxers before she sat up and smiled coquettishly.

"Goodnight, Algernon."

~*~

Erik staggered back when she pushed him. He'd made a mistake, kissing her. No, he'd made a mistake before that when he'd figured there was no harm in pulling his cock out so long as he was keeping his distance from her. Of course she would find a way to get to him. When Sam pushed her ass into the air he couldn't help but stare. There was something they'd never done before, something worth trying while celebrating their new engagement. But was she sober enough?

It almost didn't matter as he watched her fingers slide in and out of her slick pussy. Sam asked whether he liked her being his whore, liked watching her touch herself. Erik squeezed his throbbing member gently, stroking it again in time with her fingers as they slid in and out...in and out...god she was so wet...in and out...

He bit his lip and hated himself a little when he stepped forward. Gently, unsure if she could take it, Erik slipped one finger inside her along with her three. Gently he curled his finger in a 'come here' motion, stroking some place deep inside her while gently rubbing her clit with his thumb. Once he was certain it was wet enough he retracted his finger and circled her puckered hole. Slowly, gently he pressed his finger lubed with her juices into her ass, just to the middle joint.

"Do you like that?" he murmured, moving his finger slowly, gently in and out. He kept an eye and ear out for genuine discomfort. "I like pleasuring my whore while she pleasures herself, you know."
 
Sam went rigid and wide-eyed for a moment as Erik's finger pushed into her ass. "Do you like that?" he murmured, moving his finger slowly, gently in and out.

"Uh... uh, huh," she moaned, unable to catch her breath. Erik had only done something like this once before, when his aim had been a little off and he'd fucked her ass hard while while pushing her into a wall, and that had been hot as fucking hell. And Anne Marie had done it with her finger just the other night, and Goddamn if it wasn't making her weak at the knees. "Yeah, yeah Ah do," she managed, thrusting her fingers back in to her cunt.

"I like pleasuring my whore while she pleasures herself, you know," Erik added in a conversational tone, as if he was merely discussing the weather.

Sam's reply was a little whimpering cry, and then reaching under her chest to grab one tit with her free hand. "Gawd," she whined, pinching her nipple and fucking herself back onto her hand and his. "Ah'm... Ah'm... gonna cum, master," she moaned. "Has... has it been... ten minutes? Kin Ah cum fer you, so's y'kin fuck yer whore while she's drippin' fer you?"




"Good night, Anne Marie," Algernon replied, staring at her hungrily as her lips hovered above his erection. He could see the dark spot at the tip, where his pre-cum had soaked the fabric, and the knowledge that she could see it as well made him shiver with delight. But, continuing the game, he began to roll over as if going to sleep. Then he hesitated, as if seeing something on the floor.

"It would never do to leave such a mess on the floor, though. I hate ironing, after all." With that he slipped from the bed and picked up his tie. Holding it in both hands, he flipped it so the silk stroked down her hair and settled around her neck while he sat. Then he pulled gently, drawing her bare body closer to his. Letting her feel the pressure of the silk on her skin as he let the slack slip down her shoulders. Soon, held fast by the thin strip of cloth, he had her close enough to let her feel the hairs on his chest tickle her flesh. "What a shame I am so tired," he breathed, tracing the contours of her face with his lips. "Imagine the uses we could put this to, were I awake."
 
"Oui, just imagine," Anne Marie agreed huskily. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the feel of silk against her neck and the hairs of his chest tickling her. As he pulled her closer she crawled up his body on the bed. Her knees were on the mattress on either side of his hips, her hands on the outsides of his shoulders, but all the while she made absolutely certain not to touch him. Her warm sex hovered above his boxers, almost close enough to feel but not quiet.

"Out of curiosity," she said casually, "to what sort of uses might we put this beautiful silk necktie? If you weren't so tired, of course. I mean, I suppose you could wrap your present back up, but how?" Their legs were so close together she could feel his leg hairs brush against her smooth skin. She felt more his aura than his skin, and that alone made her so wet she was practically dripping. But she wouldn't be the one to lose the game.

~*~

Erik slowly moved his finger in and out. Carefully he added a second finger, pulling a whimper of pleasure from her. When she moaned that she was going to cum he slapped her ass sharply in retribution with his free hand.

"Don't you fucking dare," he growled. Reaching around, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her fingers from her pussy. "I don't know why I'm so lenient with you," he snarled, pressing his throbbing length roughly into her. His finger moved into her ass as his cock slid out of her cunt. Grabbing her hip with a bruising force he fucked her roughly, slapping her every now and then. "I give you a treat and you spit in my face you ungrateful little whore!" He'd been so hard before that already he was close. But he wouldn't; she was closer, and if she came first he would get to punish her further and he had several ideas for that already. He would make sure she came first.
 
Sam gave a whimpering cry of relief and pleasure as Erik manhandled her, fucking her hard and rough while pushing his fingers into her ass. "Ah... Ah am... an ungrateful..." she gasped, cupping both breasts now and letting Erik's rough thrusts pounded her into the mattress. A wave of pleasure silenced her words with a cry, and she bit her lip hard to keep from cumming. Three minutes left, the clock said. Three minutes. "An... yer... ungrateful... whore..."

God, she'd never wanted to cum so badly in her life. But he'd said fifteen minutes, and out of sheer cussedness she was going to hold him to that. So she pushed back onto him, taking his dick and fingers deeper as he pulled at her hip hard enough to leave bruises and his balls slapped her belly and... oh... oh god... "Gawd... Ah... Ah'm close..." She was roughly pulling at her nipples now, body sliding across the covers. One minute.

"Show... me... Erik," she whined, body rigid with the effort of holding back her orgasm. "Show... yer li'l whore... what... what y'all... do... to... Erik... Erik!" Fifteen minutes. Her back arched as she pushed down on her forearms, small breasts cupped in her hands as her cunt clenched like a vise around his dick. Screaming in pleasure, uncaring if anyone could hear her or not, she thrashed and writhed as she rode out her pleasure. "Cum..." she begged, whimpering with need, "Ah... wanna... feel... you... cum..."




Algernon's hands shook with effort, the only sign he permitted of the immense strain that not just throwing Anne Marie down and fucking her raw was costing him. Well, the only sign other than the rock-hard erection that strained against his boxers. "What sort of uses?" he murmured, feeling the warmth of her nearly bare body against his as she straddled him, nearly touching him. "This, for starters."

He flipped the cloth up and over her head again, letting the silk slide over her hair and down her forehead. Then, careful not to touch her as he did so, he gently knotted the necktie around her head as a blindfold. "Another would be ideal," he murmured into her ear as his hands ghosted down her back, not quite touching her. "To bind your hands, leaving you to wonder how I would touch you. And when. To let let you lie, naked to my gaze and the caress of the evening air, awaiting the moment. Anticipating it. Unable to see, dependent upon your other senses to feel my approach."
 
Anne Marie took a deep breath as he covered her eyes. For several reasons, she wasn't used to being on this side of the blindfold and she tried not to let it be unnerving. Instead she focused on the feel of the silk and the sound of his voice. She was acutely aware of his body without seeing it and shivered at the feel of his hands so near her back. He talked about wanting to bind her hands, leaving her helpless, and she took another deep breath to remind herself that if he did that she would be entirely safe. He would never do anything to her that she didn't want.

"My love, you do yourself a great disservice," she teased warmly. "You trained me well when I was a child, you made sure I would know my surroundings if I were to be blinded."

To prove a point, she lowered her hips against his pelvis until she felt the heat of his skin, but no further. His erection throbbed just behind her ass, but still she never touched him even as she lowered her stomach to his, her breasts to his chest, her face to his. Her lips hovered centimeters from his as she spoke with a wry, seductive smile.

"You will have to get up much earlier than this to surpass your own protege, mon amie," she teased.

~*~

He wanted to smash that fucking clock. Erik knew that she was probably waiting the full fifteen minutes just out of spite. He wanted to punish her now, goddammit! Samantha wailed that she was close and he slapped her ass again, enjoying the way it moved each time he hit her or pounded into her.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snarled. "You cum when I say you cum, slut!" He looked at the clock: one minute. Her body was rigid, but as soon as the second hand struck fifteen minutes she tightened, then loosened as she came around his cock. Erik throbbed inside of her and arched his lower back, but managed to stave off his orgasm as her pussy gripped him like a vice. He panted with the effort, then was blessedly able to throw her off of him when she begged him for his cum. Taking off his belt, he slapped her lightly on the thighs and flank.

"Did I say you could cum?" he demanded. "Did I?" Belting her on the ass again he crossed to the wardrobe where they had unpacked their things. His cock ached and throbbed as he searched for what he was looking for, then returned to the bed. Pushing her over, he pinned her down and fitted a collar around her neck. "See this?" He grabbed her left hand and held the ring up in front of her. "This means you love and obey. And this..." He held up the leash for her to see. "Also means you love and obey. You certainly weren't obedient." He gripped her hip and flipped her onto her stomach again. Erik pulled on the leash to bring Sam up to all fours and knelt behind her. "Does that mean you don't love me?" Slowly he slid his aching shaft into her ass. It was almost a relief. "Do you not love and cherish your master?" He slapped her ass again and bit his lip, working hard not to cum at the involuntary convulsion around his cock.
 
Sam had no idea where he'd gotten the collar and chain from, and she didn't much care. If anyone else had tried something like that, she'd have kicked seven shades of shit out of him. But Erik? Erik, manhandling her? Erik, buckling the smooth satin around her throat, and using the chain to drag her to her hands and knees? Well, she might have akready cum hard once, but she was ready.

"Does that mean you don't love me?" Erik snapped, kneeling behind her.

"Gawd, no," Sam groaned, legs shaking. "Ah-OH!" Her eyes went wide as Erik's blunt head pressed against her ass and then slowly, forcefully pushed in. She... hadn't expected that. She wasn't complaining, mind, but...

He pulled the chain and the collar pressed against her throat. She pushed back, forcing him deeper into her bowels. His response was to slap her rear, and she tightened around his length with a cry. "Do you not love and cherish your master?" he asked.

"Ah... Ah do!" Sam gasped, then crued out as his hand struck again. "Master!" she added with a yelp. "Ah.. Ah do love mah Master!" He pulsed in her, and she threw her head back as she moaned. "But... but Ah'm a... a wicjed, disobedient slut, Master." Leaning forward, she fellt the chain go taut and the collar tug into her throat and then arched her hips a little to take him deeper. "Please master... please show me what yeh... what yeh do wit' disibedient sluts like me..."




"You will have yto get up much earlier than this to surpass tour own protege, mon ami," Anne Marie breathed.

"My dear," Algernon replied wryly, "i have been up for quite some time now." He rocked his hips as he said it, letting his erect cock come within a hairs bredth if touching her skin. To be honest, he wasn't sure hiw much longer he could last like this. He'd always orided himself on his self-discipline, but he was aroused almost to the point iof simply rolling her over and taking her. Or of losing control and climaxing right now - a thought that ked to an image of her caramel skin streaked with his seed, which did not help his control at all.

So, smiling, he caressed the air above the silken curtains if her hair, and found the end of his tie. He tugged it gently, breathing softly on the gentle arch of her throat as he did. "Prove to me that you have not lost your hard-won skills," he murmured, resusting the urge to taste her sweet-smelling skin. "Tell me where my hand is..." He groaned as he felt a drop of her arousal fall on his stomach. "Where am I almost touching you?"
 
Anne Marie chuckled at his double entendre. Cleverness and a subtle sense of humor were two of the many, many reasons she loved him so. Her quiet laughter was interrupted with a gasp when he tugged on the tie, forcing her to expose her throat. Goosebumps raised on her arms as she felt his hot breath on her throat and he demanded that she prove her skills to him. She ached for him, ached to lose this game, and her insides clenched with a very small, very brief orgasm when he demanded to know where his hand was.

"My hair," she murmured. "I have always known when you are so near because I could feel your touch against even my hair. My throat," she added, smiling as his hand moved. "My...breast...my flank...is this a tour of what you would like to do to me, my love?" Anne Marie smiled again as she teased him and her walls constricted gently at the idea of all of this. "Or it it simply where you would like to see your pleasure?"

~*~

Erik was glad for once that there wasn't a mirror around. His voice was powerful and commanding but behind her his jaw dropped and his eyes slid out of focus for a few moments as she arched her hips to take him deeper inside her. Carefully, knowing he couldn't be as rough with her as he normally would, he moved inside her as she begged for her punishment. Sam leaned forward, pulling the leash taught, but he jerked on it to pull her back again.

"That's it," he grunted. "Beg...for your...oh Gott...for your master...ah!" He couldn't hold back anymore. Erik pulled out and watched with a detached fascination as his seed painted his fiance's back. "God...dear God..." He panted, leaning over her for a moment before grabbing a towel and helping her clean off, then laid on the bed next to her. "I like the way this looks on you," he said softly, running a finger along the collar. "God I love you Samantha."
 
Sam gripped the covers, arching her back as Erik pulled on her collar. The feel of his cock had her on a razor edge, whimpering in pleasure with just a little sliver if pain. "Erik," she moaned, "gawd, Erik, fuck... fuck me...." Her belly and cunt clenched as he pulled the chain again, and then she whimpered as she climazed to the feel of his seed coating hrr colon. And then he pulled out, leaving her to gasp as his cock pulsed against her cheeks and she felt his cum splash across her bare back.

Finally, she collapsed onto the bed. By the time he returned, wiping his cum from his back, she felt limp and deliciously well-used. When the mattress creaked under his weight she snuggled into him, almost purring at the feel of his hands stroking her neck and collar. "I like the way this looks on you," he whispered.

"Ah like th' way Ah look on you," she murmured happily, absently stroking the velvet collar. "So, next time y'all fuck me wit' this, get a mirror." She smiled happiy, feeling herself moisten at the thought. "Ah wanna watch."

"God I love you Samantha," he murmured.


"Ah know," she whispered, gripping his hand. "Reckon Ah'd never let yeh put this on me, if'n y'didn't." Shifting and rolling, she pressed herself against him and kissed him. "Now," she laughed, biting his nose, "next time Ah get drunk an wanna fuck? Stop thinkin' y'all gotta protect me, all right?"




Algernon grimaced at her words, fighting the desperate need to take her in his arms, fill his hungry hands and mouth with the taste and feel of Anne Marie. He doubted that either of them would find any lack of pleasure in losing, after all. But he knew himself too well, and knew he wouldn't lose easily. "Perhaps both, my dear," he murmured. "Like words, actions may have many meanings."

His hands brushed over her thighs, fingertips and nails tracing the silk-clad curve of her thigh. The feel of her body nearly pushed him over the edge, forcing him to bite his lip hard to avoid climax. "Note," he murmured, squeezing gently just above her knew, "that I still have not touched you. As we agreed, I am far too tired fir such games." His hand slid upwards, gliding over the silk, thumb just touching the clip of the garter. "I have, after all, touched only silk. And it is a pale imitation of your supple skin, mon amour."
 
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