A note to begin with: Here we are again going with my Gershwin Playlist. Alright the titles are cheesy so are parts of this story. But a kinky woman has to have some fun once in a while. This is another glimpse into the world of Rosa and Samuel. I hope you will be able to lean back and enjoy this trip into a Valentine Twenties with our diabolic pair set in the city of lovers and lust. For the sake of this series premise we will assume that it was possible for young affluent women to have a colourful sex life before marriage. I intend to research this further as the series goes on. Open your hearts loosen your belts and lift your skirts as the curtains open to a fresh and vibrant 1927.
For clarification: Every passing day is marked with an opening of paper boys selling their goods. The interested may find themselves inclined to find the exact dates by the news advertised...
On a side note for all my fellow music lovers: The song for this story during the writing process was Yes' Love will find a Way.
"Special Edition! Special Edition! Campbell makes new record for fastest speed in Automobile with his Blue Bird! Buy the new Special Edition... Record breaking Blue Bird in England! Buy..."
Sam reached for a paper and exchanged some coins with the small boy in front of the crowded train station. The front page showed a picture of Malcolm in his silly racing suit and the broadest grin Sam had ever seen him pose with. He laughed out loud and retook his steps towards the waiting Rolls Royce Ghost, instructed the driver in flawless French and returned to the article musing. Business was going as he had expected it to on his trip to England; his investments into the new type of motor would pay off well once he brought them home to the American market. He tapped his chin with a slender finger as he smiled satisfactorily passing over a bridge across the Seine River. Now he had a few days off time in Paris and he already had a very good idea how he would enjoy them.
"Are you going to attend tonight's concert at the Hotel Sir?" Sam did not answer as he glanced at the driver's face in the front mirror; the old continent surely lacked some proper etiquette. That said he wouldn't mind some good artistic entertainment before leaving for the real night out and given the concert was to bridge his time he might just as well do that.
Meanwhile at the Hotel the group stood huddled together in the Foyer while the Conductor Browne gave out some last minute instructions to the musicians about the order of the program they were to perform.
"Right, now everyone check if their sheets are complete and correctly sorted. Rosa you will begin with your solo, we will set up now and start in forty five minutes. Rosa? Rosa? Oh for heaven's sake not again."
Amused whispers erupted while Browne was looking frantically around the entrance hall. Rosa had disappeared again likely lost in inspiration somewhere on the busy Parisien streets.
The smart black car pulled into the driveway, doors were opened and Sam stepped out nose buried in his paper while he walked up on to the dark red carpet leading into the wide elegant hall. The buzz of voices, the ringing of a bell at the front desk and the sound of motors behind him in the dark filled his ears when he felt the paper being pulled from his hands and his body impact with another slender form: he noted waves of soft chestnut hair and a frown that wasn't yet directed at him, but searching for the source of the disturbance.
On the floor scattered lay several sheets of what appeared to be music, a coat and his paper which dark brown eyes were scanning with mild concern while his arm had automatically found itself slung around a shoulder (just at the right height for him to feel comfortable where it was) to prevent the both of them from toppling and falling down. A hint of curiosity crossed his face.
"Oh great, just what I needed. Can't you watch where you are walking? Now I am not going to make it on time."
The voice sighed and tried to push his arm from her shoulder which made him hold onto it with even more force. Sam narrowed his eyes as the dark brown pair across him sought his gaze and to his slight incredulity they were lit with annoyance towards him. His own voice was sharp as he remarked:
"You might want to change your tone I do not appreciate to be talked to like this."
The young woman held his gaze and with a very intent movement pushed his arm from her shoulder. He let it happen just to see what she would do next.
"You are one to talk. If you had proper manners you would not walk with your head buried into what I am sure is a very important article. If you had looked up just once you would have noticed my polite gesture that I was too loaded to step aside. So don't talk down to me, Sir."
Her words were marked with distinct disapproval, but the Sir she had said with ridicule. She still held his stare waiting for a reaction. Sam couldn't quite believe it.
"I have to say the women here are not up to the standards I expected or is it just you being a young, uneducated silly thing? You better hope your looks will pull you through life. May I suggest you study to be less defiant? No man in his right mind will put up with your impudence."
He made sure to mark his words with the sharpness of the angry annoyance he now felt himself. On first glance he had appreciated what he saw, he didn't like that. To his disbelief the young woman now started smiling at him. Somehow she managed to retrieve her sheets and coat from the floor without letting her eyes leave his face. His newspaper remained where it was as she addressed him brightly:
"You think you are so smart, consider yourself a superior being don't you? I assume you view yourself as such a man in his right mind. If that would be the case I think I will stick to the men who have their very own mind about things, they do tend to appreciate the freedom I express with mine. Good Night." she sang.
And thus she moved past him her last words hanging around his silent figure like a mocking echo.
"Incroyable!" he thought, the smell of her hair lingering in his nose.
An hour later
It was five minutes past their opening time and Rosa sat at the piano nervously tucking her hair behind her ear then placed her hands hovering just above the keys. Browne's count came, all the impressions around her, fellow musicians, expecting audience the smell of the wooden body of her instrument - her love, faded into one floating feeling of being removed to her special place. But this time just for the fraction of a second a face appeared inside her mind, handsome eyes stern brow and hair of deep black. She closed her eyes and inhaled grudgingly then started to play.
Sam crossed his arms his eyes set without falter to take in her eloquent movements, the way her fingers seemed to dance and the expressions that crossed her face as she drifted between open and closing her lids gave herself to the music. He wasn't wholly impressed though. Her technique was fine, but the music the band played was little above mediocre at best. The concert lacked soul and for some strange reason he felt satisfied about that. He stood and left before the last notes reverberated across the room.
"Special Edition! Special Edition! British troops land in China, European citizens safe! More ships expected within the coming week! Special edition, special edition...Buy!"
Rosa was sitting in a Café right beside the window , close to the rest of the group and looked out, her right hand playing absent minded with the green jade bracelet on her left wrist. She took in the passersby, the raggedy boys shouting to and fro on the busy streets, cars moving past, buses, people, bustle, smells, sounds, light and shadow, a Metropolis of Grandeur.
"Just like Shanghai.", she murmured, but in such different ways. It had been three years since she travelled the Asian continent with her father though the impact had never left her. Sometimes she missed the scent of foreign winds, the challenge of conversing without words, the subtle ways of power exchange between women and men... Rosa smiled though the news worried her. How long had it been since she heard from her friend Ying -- the cherry blossom. Beautiful charming Ying who knew her way around another Shanghai so well, a city hidden to the first glance of visitors. And who was she kidding she missed the way of men there.
At least they were deserving of the respect they asked for not like this pompous... Rosa jokingly smacked herself. Why in all worlds was she still thinking of this guy? Better to redirect her thoughts, a nice pleasant memory will do.
Rosa kept watching the streetlife outside and slowly her mind transfered herself back to 1924:
It was not quite Spring yet, the Chinese New year was approaching as Rosa and her father settled in to spend the holidays with friends and business partners in the thriving crossroad city between east and west. Rosa was happy to be allowed freedom to move around by herself as long as she was accompanied by her close friend Ying, the daughter of an important partner of her father's business who spoke many a language and who also had a mischievous hedonistic streak which she enjoyed greatly to share with Rosa. Ying was a known face around the secret clubs and amusement places and seemed to know about everyone who ever stopped by in any of them.
Now that special evening just before the winter sun solstice she took them both to a private residence outside the main city. Rosa found the procedures rather strange as no names were mentioned and Ying had asked her very seriously whether she was willing to make new experiences. Rosa was far from being innocent, but her curiosity was piqued. When they arrived they were led into a very elegant room with view over the bay. The guests were an interesting mix of Chinese and foreigners, all dressed to their best and not one seemed to be what Rosa subjectively would have considered not handsome or beautiful. Several of the men noted her entrance and acknowledged their interest with a slight nod of their head. Ying whispered:
"If you like someone and wish to talk to them you move your hand to show the inside of your palm -- like this."
"And what happens next?"
Rosa inquired back, though she had an idea where this was going. Her heartbeat fastened a little. Ying gave a surreptitious smile and winked.
"You will have great fun. Learn a new thing or two. People here are very open minded. They will enjoy teaching you. Oh and there are no rules you like a woman talk to her, too. Or you want more than one man...mmm!"
Ying sighed in expectant pleasure, straightened her back, stuck her tongue out at Rosa and walked off while pushing her into the center of the spacious room. There she remained standing a little unsure of herself while she took in groups of people talking, drinking and laughing. Someone passing by handed her one glass of wine and as Rosa took it her eyes fell on the back of a man standing some feet away who was in conversation. She couldn't see his face, but something drew her towards him. The older woman next to him caught her gaze and must have pointed it out for the man now slowly turned and mustered her. After what seemed ages he nodded and remained standing where he was simply watching.
The elder woman laughed and Rosa bit her lip, lowered her eyes yet at the same time turned her left palm outwards. She didn't dare to look up until a shadow fell on her and a gentle but firm hand reached under her chin and pulled up her face to be looked at closely. The man was imposingly beautiful and Rosa gulped as she returned his almond eye shaped gaze.
"You are a friend of Yings. She brought you here today for the first time. I may thank her for that. Later."
He leaned in closer.
"Tell me friend of Ying, what is it you want to do with me? Or what do you think I may want to do with you?"
Good heavens, Rosa thought, I cannot possibly answer that. What a tease! She felt warmth rising in her body and laughed.
"I feel like words are not sufficient to reply, but I would like to walk with you and see where that leads us."
Hopefully that wasn't too straight, Rosa wondered. The man's facial expression did not change, but he offered his arm and led her towards the doors along corridors and upwards winding staircases. They passed many rooms some yet open some with closed doors until finally they stepped into a chamber lying in half shadows. The man closed the doors behind them and offered her a seat whereas he took to stand by a drawer of finest bamboo wood. The candles blew in a light breeze through the half open windows.
"Why did you choose me young swallow? You must know that you are reaching out for things you have never seen or done before. Are you not satisfied with the men you know?"
His voice was hypnotic, his accent like a melody that made her feel as if she were in some far away fairy tale. Rosa felt herself nodding. She had never really thought about it, but something really was missing from the kind of relations she had had experienced with her previous lovers. She wanted to know what it was. Finally the man smiled.
"I see. I will be very gentle, fear not. Tonight you will just take your very first step over borders you have no need of any longer. I am honored to be your first...teacher. You can close your eyes if you wish."
Rosa shook her head and returned the smile then watched him open the top drawer to retrieve several thin white ropes. The man took off his jacket, pulled down her dress (Rosa shivered with childish joy) and positioned her arms crossed behind her back.
"It won't hurt, not tonight. I will just give you an idea of how things can be done. Speak whenever you wish to stop. It is very important that you only do what you feel comfortable with."
Rosa nodded as he started to sling the rope around her wrists, binding them together then continued to pull them across her upper body crossing her chest and shoulders. It felt both securing and limiting at the same time; she loved the sensation of the rope on her bared skin, how it squeezed her breasts as it circled around them and thus she inhaled deeply to increase the pressure.
"You are an eager one little swallow. Be careful not to tease me or I will be less careful with you. You see as much as you feel pleasure being bound I feel it binding you. It has to be mutual my beautiful, or it becomes something very dark."
She was starting to drift into a space she had not entered before. Her thoughts were less clear though still present, but her emotions and feelings seemed to multiply in magnitude. What does dark mean? She asked herself, but a moan was all that escaped her lips as her mysterious lover proceeded to undress her fully, spread her legs and bind them with another rope to the frame of the bed. His breath came close to her as his own excitement increased and his lips started to explore all of her body.
It was elating to not be able to move and escape the tease she was wet as she had never been before. The incessant kisses were soon replaced by a duet of bites and strokes with what must be a soft feather, hands discovering and laying willful claim to parts of her body she barely was aware existed. What a concert of sensations she thought in a haze of excitement and she giggled inwardly as she heard herself begging for his manhood. He only laughed and bit her thighs even harder.
"Rosa it's time to leave. We need to get back to the Hotel to get ready for the party."
Helen gave her a hysterically amused stare as Rosa groaned and found herself back at the Café, far from China, far from lust and satisfaction. Ah what a nice daydream that was. At least there was tonight to look forward to. She had heard there was a piano at the apartment and local musicians would attend. Too bad she was really in dire want of a pleasuring encounter with the other sex now. Maybe some nice man would turn up this evening. Hope dies last, right.
"Evening edition, evening edition! ..."
This time Sam drowned out the local news being advertised with his musings whether Jimmy Delaney would beat Maxie Rosenbloom in tonight's match in Cincinnati. He was teased mercilessly for still having an interest in his hometown boxing scene, but who cared. He had spent so many hours of his youth in the ring he would always wonder where life would have taken him if his father hadn't made that streak of luck deals back in New York during the early teens of the century.
It was dark already and Sam looked out for the address he had been given. Rue Rouchefort, highest floor. This must be it. The servant in uniform led him up by the elevator and bowed as he stepped into the front hall. The noise coming from ahead was inviting, it must be many people attending. He threw his coat at another servant and grabbed a glass of champagne entering the crowd.
Helen and Rosa were returning from taking some fresh air on the terrace, cigarettes lit glasses in their hand, mood in highest joy when the host beckoned them towards the suite to gather with the local musicians. After some chit chat it was agreed they would play together. There was a guy with a trumpet, Helen with her oboe, a Spanish guitar player, a violinist from Prague and Rosa who was to use the house's delightful Wurlitzer. She put her glass down left the cigarette between her open lips and sat having a first feel while the other's prepared their instruments.
Sam pushed through people in his search for the buffet, not yet in the mood to return any attention to the many smiles he got from women of all kinds and colours. Priorities; he knew he looked just as good as he intended to, but he wanted some intelligent conversation first - and replenishment for his body. He would need it. A smirk passed over his lips.
Rosa exchanged some last words with her fellow band members and grinned. She felt a little lightheaded and just in the mood to let her imagination play. This was going to be good. She whistled once in a cocky fashion to alert guests to what was about to begin as the violinist raised his bow and commenced.
A whistle made it through his focus on the plate he had finally procured and Sam turned around still chewing while he let his gaze wander over what lay around him. On the far side of the magnificent room that was dotted with chairs, Sofas and small tables the carpeted floor was raised and offered a good view of what could and was currently used as stage. The violinist had started to play and in the corner of his eye he beheld a figure in a gorgeous dress with perfect skin, soft hair, beyond beautiful face and ...Sam choked and coughed until his throat was free again. Raising some eyebrows as he was addressing no one in particular he couldn't help but remark:
"Miss Impudent. What a way to start the night."
He would never have admitted it, but in some really strange way he was pleased about her presence. It was after all unexpected, wasn't it? He left his plate and edged his way closer to the stage. He watched her concentrating figure, straightened his white dinner jacket and coughed:
"Look who is there. Going to bore all these poor souls to tears again with what you call creating music?"
Rosa, who was waiting for her entry, turned her head. There he stood posing laissez-faire with his arms crossed and an expression of indulging mock. She rolled her eyes. What a peacock. But she would be damned if he didn't look good. So good she wished for a moment she was back in that Shanghai room bound and exposed to feel him all over her body. If she remembered right from the day of their walking into each other he smelled really nice. Excitingly so; Rosa pinched herself. She would rather die than show any mental weakness in front of him. His voice was just loud enough for merely her to hear. Instead of an answer she took a big sip from her retrieved glass threw him a mock kiss and with a wink started to play.
The way the instruments came together was simply marvelous. They were improvising and Sam knew that she was leading them from the moment he had challenged her. She was terrific, the sight of her as she played and her hair flew, her cheeks turned red, the way she bit her lower lip in ecstacy as she bowed half standing over the piano -- he could see her curves moving under the dress. Nice bum...Time for a drink, he downed one glass with one sip.
The crowd behind him was going crazy dancing, shouting and cajoling as the band upped the tempo and the trumpet bridged one piece by solo with the next. Rosa was intent to show Mr. Superior his place, but as she started to play the music became more important and she nearly forgot about him had it not been for the fact that he was replacing her drink with a fresh one, his face a rather pleasant sight for the time she caught a glimpse of it.
Really what was going on here?
Sam removed himself to the terrace to clear his head. It was very unusual for him to get carried away like this. Below him the city lay in silence, stars were shining brightly above and his breath formed little white clouds as he drank the whiskey from his glass. A toast! - To private parties, strangely magnetic women and ways around the prohibition on the good old continent. Now he would do rather well if he kept his mind occupied. And he knew just how, though he couldn't shake a hint of foreboding.
If only he knew what was happening to him.
They had played for what seemed hours and Rosa was exhausted when she finally managed to leave the stage and find a quiet corner to breathe deeply. Tonight's jam had been one of the most fun and challenging experiences in her musical history. She felt elated and after she had calmed down a very fine thought crept into her conscious mind. Where had he vanished to? Had he left? Why had he so suddenly shown some decency no even friendliness in his behaviour towards her? She grimaced at the silently growing wish to go look for him. Rosa moved and found herself another drink.
Ah what was it her father used to tell her? Stay away from men who present themselves as enigma. Sir Superior counted amongst them no doubt yet she couldn't help it he was there in her thoughts. Thankfully Helen appeared at this moment to pull her away laughing no doubt about to lead them into mischief.
The woman flinched as Sam pulled at her long blonde hair to upright her head back towards him his cock buried deep inside her tight behind. He was moving roughly but in a steady pace. He loved to draw out the sensations of pulling in and out, teasing his partner until oblivion, slapping the round cheeks with real force, reaching to the front to squeeze or pinch the erect nipples, pull them until he evoked moaning or pleas for mercy -- depending on whether the woman had experience or not. The feeling of control and responsibility made him drunk, calmed his nerves and cleared his mind.
He hadn't noticed how much in need he was for a session until this very moment and all because of this young foolish, pretty, mischievous, interesting, unique, talented... hold on you can't possibly be still thinking about her.. Get yourself together Samuel, he thought and increased the rhythm. Maybe the whip or cane will help in finding his composure. A grin spread across his face as he imagined a slender body with chestnut hair tousled by his hands bound to a wall biting her lip just as during her piano playing interspersed with screams as his favourite three tail met the soft white skin on her legs and round cheeks leaving marks of his need to possess and conquer. With a drawn out shout Sam came inside the blonde woman wishing it was brown eyes that turned around to search his with the plea for more.
Helen was pulling Rosa along with the promise that she had met two young Gentlemen looking for as much pleasure as they were willing to give. They met in the corridor between rooms, it had gotten very late most private places were occupied, so with little persuasion the two women found themselves pressed against the walls in passionate kisses. Rosa did enjoy herself, the way her neck was spoiled, yet something just kept tugging at her mind even as the young man asked for permission to enter her while nibbling at her earlobes.
Just at this moment two people turned a corner and started mid-step. Rosa's eye caught his and it felt as if two flames were trying to devour each other. Was it minutes or hours that passed? Rosa pushed herself free cursing under her breath as he turned around with a huff leaving the blond woman whose hip he had hugged just seconds earlier standing in astonishment. She hit the wall in frustration and walked in the opposite direction leaving a perplexed Helen behind. Two hearts tried desperately to convince themselves that they did not care.
Did not care at all. Just so you know it!
Rosa's steps had slowly taken her towards the river Seine, the stars were bright and she shivered under her coat as she looked over the calm water trying to bring order into her every sensation. It was hard to understand something she had never quite felt this way before. She was torn between anger and vulnerability and leaned against the railings as a soft warm coat was being put on top of hers around her shoulders. He had brought an open bottle of champagne with him and had a big gulp offering her a turn. Rosa obliged feeling her chaos turn into curiosity and concern. He must be freezing just in his shirt, a shirt that very clearly outlined the strong build underneath. Sam looked at her with a contemplative but mildly wanting expression. He stepped up close and pushed a loose strand of hair away to muster her face with intensity.
"So what's your name then or do you wish me to keep calling you Sir Peacock?"
He smiled at her cockyness.
"I am Samuel David Hall. Whether I allow you to address me at all is another question."
"Rosa Lilias King. Not sure if it's a pleasure to meet you. Yet."
She turned and caught his eye with her own as somewhere a clock struck the count to midnight. On a whim Rosa stepped up on her toes and kissed him teasing his lips with her tongue until he opened his mouth and she felt her own connect with his like in an electric current. Sam felt his heart lurch. I must not fall in love with him one mind whispered while the other promised itself that he would make her do just that. He took her face in his hands and smiled.
"Happy Valentine's Day Sam."
"Happy Valentines' Miss Rosa."
Thank you for reading.
Dec 12, 2017 in anal