A. Jacks: Two-way Lust

With the flowing sensuality of a pampered feline, Charolette crossed the room and reclined on the sofa. The black lace of her nightgown clung to her, emphasizing the voluptuous curves of her very womanly body. A slight toss of her head sent a cascade of flaming red hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“Jace,” she whispered in a summons of sexual promise, “I’m ready.”

Across the room, Jace Tuning turned. His eyes widened. Charolette’s fingers climbed to the plunging neckline of her gown. With titillating languor, she pulled a single bow free. The gown fell open, exposing a broad valley of sleek flesh nestled between the two mountains of her opulently swollen breasts. That the peaks of those provocative knolls remained veiled between the gown’s lace only accented the carnal feast she offered.

A pleased smile played at the corners of her full, red lips. Long dark eyelashes coyly batted over her emerald-green eyes. “Jace, you surprise me. I never suspected you to be shy.”

The man in brilliant blue Elizabethan attire chuckled. A wicked grin moved over his lips and he cocked an eyebrow. “You taunting wench! Jace of the House of Tuning will demonstrate the error in your judgment of this man born of the blood.”

A stallion with lusty fire racing in his veins, the black-haired man crossed the room. His gaze centered on the red-dressed temptress waiting on the couch. Her eyes flashed and her breasts heaved in a tremble of surprise.

Settling beside her on the sofa, Jace swept the tantalizing enchantress into his arms. His mouth covered hers. She melted against him in complete surrender.

“Good,” Susan Howard called out, pushing the shutter to her camera. Again she snapped off another shot as their embrace continued. “Now the neck.”

Reluctantly, Charolette’s lips moved from Jace’s. Tossing back her hair, she exposed a long graceful neck for her partner’s playful kisses. The click of Susan’s shutter echoed in the studio.

“Better, much better,” Susan said. “But it’s still not what I want. Charolette, throw your head back and give me an expression of intense passion. Now, Jace, scoot around a bit and kiss the front of her neck as though you’re moving down to her breasts.”

One hand on the focus ring of her 35mm camera and a finger on the other clicking off shot after shot, Susan moved closer to the couple on the couch. She smiled to herself. Charolette’s passionate expression didn’t come from acting. Jace was getting to the sexy redhead. Bet if I let these two alone for a minute they’d be rutting like two minks in heat!

Susan smiled again at her own streak of bitchiness. She didn’t blame Charolette. Just watching Jace in action was getting to her too. She felt the tickling beginnings of arousal move deep within her. An odd reaction, she thought, surprised that she didn’t feel any jealousy.

“Hold it right there, Jace,” she said snapping two last shots. “Don’t get carried away, handsome. These are for the cover of a historical novel, not a poster of a triple X-rated flick.”

Jace stopped, his lips hovering in mid-air above the intimate valley of Charolette’s breasts. He sighed, a sigh echoed by his alluring companion, and looked up. “Spoilsport! I was just beginning to enjoy my role.”

“I know.” Susan shot him a stern, reprimanding stare that quickly melted to a teasing grin. “You were starting to take your work too seriously, big boy.”

“Did you get everything you need?” Charolette slid from the sofa when Susan nodded. “Good. I’ve got to run. I’ve got to pose for that life art class at three o’clock.”

“There’s a model release form and a check over on the desk.” Susan pointed beside her. “Thanks again, Charolette. I know how busy you are today, but this is a rush assignment.”

“Glad to help out. Besides, a working girl can always use a little extra spending money.” The red-haired model closed her nightgown.

“Don’t forget, I need you to pose next Monday,” lace said when the model walked to the desk.

Charolette looked back. “Is Susan going to be here too?”

Jace nodded.

“Too bad,” she replied with a shake of her head, then glanced at Susan and grinned.

“Perhaps one of these days,” lace called after Charolette when she ducked into a dressing room.

“Why you… you…” Susan sputtered in mock anger, swinging a fist at lace’s arm. “The nerve of you two, arranging your tryst in front of me!”

Jace ducked back, avoiding her swing, laughing. “Watch it! You’ll damage the costume. We don’t have the money to pay for any malicious mischief.”

Susan “hurumphed” and pouted. “Worse, you really enjoyed posing with Charolette.”

Jace reached out and pulled the blonde to him. Lifting her chin with a fingertip, he lightly kissed her. Susan froze a sigh in the middle of her throat. She glared up at the handsome would-be model.

“Is that all I get? That’s not the way you were kissing Charolette!”

“Now you’re not going to begrudge a man on the brink of ending his bachelorhood a few last samplings of the feminine delights abounding in the world around him, are you?” lace’s arms encircled her waist, holding her tightly.

“I most certainly am! And another thing…”

Her words muffled to a long, pleased moan when his lips covered hers. Her mock anger faded away to be replaced by satisfied pleasure.

“See you two lovebirds next week,” Charolette called out from behind them when she left the studio. Neither Susan or lace looked up.

Instead, Susan devoted her full attention to the probing intimacy of Jace’s tongue while it probed and played over and under her own oral digit. She pressed to him, her breasts thrusting against his chest. She admitted her tits didn’t match the swollen proportions of Charolette’s double barrel 45’s, but then no one had ever described her as being flat-chested either.

Responding to her teasing, lace pressed his groin tightly against hers. She trembled, arousal flaring higher. Hard and stiff, packed behind the breeches of the Elizabethan costume, she felt him. Her hips undulated, rubbing her pelvis over the lusty bulge.

Is that for me or Charolette?

She found she didn’t care. Once again, she was struck by her lack of jealousy, remembering her arousal while watching this man — her man — on the couch with the heavy-chest model.

“Mmmmmmm,” she moaned when their lips finally parted. “That’s better. For a minute, I thought you had worn yourself out with Charolette.”

“Forsooth, wench!” lace struck a cocky pose in his costume.

“We born of royal blood are known for our prowess in matters of the flesh. Once while in exotic Persia, I single-handedly satisfied half the harem of…”

“Kind sir, if I might interrupt but a moment,” Susan said with a grin. “I think it best if you would get your royal hindquarters in high gear and get that costume back to its owners. The rent doubles if we keep it until tomorrow.”

He reached for her again, but Susan artfully dodged the embrace and shook her head.

“All right,” Jace gave in. “I’ll get out of this costume.”

Quickly he stripped the jacket and ruffled white shirt of the Elizabethan attire away and neatly placed it on a nearby chair. Turning to Susan, he kicked off his shoes, then leaned over and pulled away the knee-length stockings.

His gaze, alive with a devilish self-confidence, locked on her. His fingers crept to the tops of the breeches, fumbling with a lace that rested just beneath the hairy nest of his navel.

Undeniable arousal suffused through the young artist while she watched the handsome would-be model free the lace and slowly push his breeches downward. Tossing the pants to the chair, he stood before her wearing only his jockey shorts. Her eyes lowered, homing in on the living tent pole that strained beneath the white cotton of his briefs. Her chest heaved. Womanly fluids flowed deep within her young body.