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A/N: Nashville Predators be damned! Pascal will be an Av as long as I WANT HIM TO BE!
Chapter 72: Trep—The Land of Nuts and Fruits—Sonata Scherzando
Prelude—Capriccioso
Subj: A Deux Soon Perhaps?
Date: 10/30/-- 1:00 A.M. Pacific Time
From: [email protected]
Sent From the Internet: (Details)
Hello My Pet,
What are you doing right now? Sleeping I suppose, your peachy cheek on your peachy arm, eyes closed, dreaming of all the sunny, pure little things that you never allow yourself to think when you’re awake. Or would those constitute nightmares for you? If so then I do not wish pleasant dreams upon you, I would rather you were dreaming of the things that make you happy, those things that no one else dares to fantasize about when they’re awake, but in which you saturate yourself before lunch. I am curious. You never tell me what you’re dreaming about, and after seeing the state your husband was in, I do wonder about your sleep state.
You’re never going to guess what I’m resting my laptop on my pet. But I get ahead of myself and I will tell you in a moment.
Did you enjoy the heroics of our intrepid defenseman tonight? Between you and me I did not assume for a moment that he had enough gall or brains to be able to find where his angles are much less stop a puck. I wonder how your children enjoyed it. I know I certainly did.
There was quite a surprise for us tonight when we came back to our hotel. We are staying in the M------ Hotel along with an extremely energetic, virile basketball team, and in their libidinous gluttony they ordered an entire cathouse worth of women of the night. These lovely harlots more than filled the ticket for the court jumping hoop-men and there was quite a few lonely ones when all was said and done. Naturally we smelled the sharp Chanel knockoff scents of these women and following our noses found the lovely, and might I add paid for, unattached temptresses.
This is where you will be pleased kitten. Our dear captain, of course, did his best to ward us off these red light darlings, and your ingenious husband sent him a lovely even he could not resist. After he had gone the ladies were free to ply their trade. So you see, I have fulfilled the favor you have asked of me, and I am telling you what you wanted to know, what you have asked me to keep an eye out for these past two years, albeit your husband was the one who pulled the sheet off the secret. Monsieur Sakic is not a delighted follower of Bacchus nor Narcissus but of simple, brown haired wood sprites. He loves women, not Godesses.
Incidentally, you will be interested to know that your husband chose an extremely voluptous, plump, rosy cheeked blond hen of a girl as his companion. An opposite from you as stark as the sun is to the moon. I do not think he meant her for himself, however as I heard him mention a friend he would like her to help out. Still, I saw the girl not half an hour ago, crying and trembling in the hallway, her plump arm already showing some rather suspicious little bruises, and I do not suppose that dear Adam saw a taste of her then. Confusing though, is it not? Wouldn’t bringing back Adam’s virility make his other mission a lot more difficult? I thought you would like to know of this, and perhaps ask him about it. Perhaps he is looking for a challenge, no?
And I? Whom do I have with me? A svelte, blue eyed kitten, not unlike yourself, perhaps she is a but younger, but the difference is hardly obvious. It’s all I can have for now, until I bring you around. And how docile she is too, quiet and smiling, her eyes half closed as she has so charmingly allowed me to use her rosy, smooth-skinned back as a table upon which I can rest my lap top computer. And here I am, writing to you, words borne off a harlot’s back. I do not think that you would provide me with such a courtesy, would you? If my uncle’s descriptions of you hold any merit, and even though I know how much you hate each other, I am sure that they do. Then I imagine you as a sharp, clawing little cat, more liable to spit at me than proffer your derriere for a useful task.
That is why a bet with your kind is necessary is it not? And actually, my original purpose in writing to you is because of our bet. So let me abandon the caprices of this night and discuss the meatier aspects at hand.
Movement I: Glissando a piacere
You were so sure of yourself, weren’t you? I saw the smug glint in your eye and in your crooked smile, in the way you crossed your skinny arms over your breast. You were confident that I would fail at the doorstop, not even allowed to wipe my feet on the map but my pet. It wasn’t hard at all to do that. And do you regret now promising me the charms of you and your fiery husband should I succeed?
"I want you to seduce the untouchable, the holy, the so faithful Christine Rosen, have her cast aside her values, her prayers, her standing in her husband’s eyes and embrace lasciviousness as if it were water she has been parched for." Am I quoting you correctly? I know her reputation here, as of course everyone in this state does. The virginal married woman, the charity worker, and the governor’s angelic daughter. You smiled so wickedly. No doubt you were thinking, he would paw at her in a dark corner where she will scream in fright and never come near him again.
You underestimated my skills my pet. Every woman is a separate creature, to be treated in separate ways. I only lurched at you like a brazen fiend because I know that’s how you like it. Christine needs a small amount of finesse, to be treated smoothly, softly assai glissando if you will.
And that’s how I got her and got her quickly my pet. I hope you know that before you had your brilliant idea of having me seduce Mrs. Rosen, I already had been working upon her. I helped her out quite a bit with the little charities she’s running, and she adored my soul for it. Blink, blink her huge blue eyes goes and all I could do was stare at the ample endowments she does not realize she possesses. Or didn’t at the time. You are correct in you assessment that every pure woman is a whore in hiding and this one I uncovered as I slid my hand around her waist, walking with her away from the party in the moonlit backyard of her father’s house. She protested only a little as I kissed her and made sure to do it softly, and I pulled away from her, apologizing for my behavior, making sure to do it only after I felt the heat beginning to dampen her blouse. And then I left her, gasping, hand clasped to her throat. I am forwarding you a copy of her e-mail to me so you can see her confused, charming longing to see me and express to me the boundaries I should not try to cross with her. She will be mine soon enough.
Movement II: Con Spirito animato
I am not done either. A bet should not be won so easily, don’t you agree? Wouldn’t you feel a million worlds better about losing if I brought to your table not one head but three my little Salome? Christine’s sister is 24, a year younger than her and also just as married. Mrs. LaTulippe is unparalleled in her efforts to rid this world of cheap pornography, loud music, and other such devices that could inflame the youth of our world into such acts of depraved immorality that should leave it so unlivable. Christine recommended to her that she contact me and recruit my charitable, righteous values into helping further her causes. So naturally, I agreed and that is the reason I will soon be speaking to local youth hockey teams about the dangers of immoral living.
Natalie, is a firebrand, she turns so red when impassioned and speaking to a crowd, be it a school or a woman’s group that I can only close my eyes and imagine how she looks inflamed and moaning in-between bed sheets. If I came upon her languid and slow as I am with Christine, than I do not think that Natalie would even notice me. So I planned a more animated pursuit of her.
She likes my humor, calling it quintessentially French Canadian and facetious. I laugh with her and induce her to laugh more. I talk all I can to her, showing her what sort of live creature I am, and I make sure to be more lively and humorous than her dull husband ever could be. It’s working with her faster than it is with Christine. We were not alone for two minutes after she clenched her fist and preached with a dampened upper lip to the Women’s Society for Protection of Girls about the damaging image portrayed by teenaged pop idols, when she grabbed me by the face and kissed me.
"I am so glad you contributed as much as you did!" she exclaimed. "You understand that ‘N’Sync is really just an Aryan Neo-Nazi Skinhead creation that encourages children to accept clones and become mindless Aryan soldiers themselves and they must be stopped!" (Incidentally Mimi, dear, I think Natalie may be a bit unstable...)
"Of course," I answered. "I was delighted that you feel the same way!"
She kissed me again and I let her push me against the wall, tugging at my shirt, allowing her to feel as if she were in control. I let it go farther than with her sister, I let her moan a bit, run her hand up my leg and press so tightly against me before I pushed her away.
I am also forwarding you her email to me, telling me how that we wouldn’t be sinning if we made love, because love is not a sin and she no longer feels bound by her marriage vows since she found her husband in carnal pleasure with his secretary. This one, needless to say, is in my pocket.
Movement III: Subito Vivace
And the third one, my sweet was the easiest of all. Chastity, (note that I have just broken into a fit of laughter) is the youngest sister. I think she was just in high school last year, and being as young as she is, going to such a secluded cage as P. Talbot, she returned home to Denver curious, naive and in my lap she fell.
I mean that literally. I was at a function of Christine’s and she was so eager that I meet dear Chastity and could not find her. As I slipped from the rather stuffy and tiring party, alone in the study, I found a soft chair to sink into. Within the minute I heard the girl enter, as noisily as a clumsy colt into the room. She sighed loudly and clumped over to my chair, not seeing me and into my lap she dropped her lovely little backside.
Her scream was delicious and I covered her mouth immediately, holding her still so as she didn’t attract anyone. We sat there for a moment, me inhaling her sweet Strawberry scented lotion, and when I realized no one was coming I let her go. "I’m sorry," she said. Not sliding off my lap but almost settling back into it. "I didn’t know you were here."
I didn’t say too much and what I did say I said in out native tongue; you and I both know how easily men and women yield to us when we speak it.
The girl was sweet and fast. She kept her eyes closed, no doubt imagining I was some French prince from one of her little fantasies she dreamed at night and I had my pleasure of her. She hardly opened her eyes, her little red mouth begging for more, it was a delight that I will not soon forget. Afterwards, she cried some, getting angry with me for taking such advantage of her, and I reminded her that she hadn’t once told me to stop. It was clear that her only fear was that I tell her family and ruin her image. I assured her my silence and now, she will not have enough of me, emailing me her ideas of erotic little romances and pulling me into dark corners whenever she can. So you see the third one is already mine.
When I return home from this most unusual roadtrip, I will no doubt have a finale to this opus that will make you yield to me more surely than anything else would. Nothing in your experience and dreams will compare to my conquering of the Three Maids of Greenwood Village. The only question shall be your place or mine?
Can you believe this; the charming Venus below my keyboard is snoring? How distracting. I shall have to make her stop. It’s been two hours since I started this e-mail to you and I am sure it will take you two hours to read. I will let you go now then. What are you dreaming now?
How will you react when you read this? You didn’t expect to lose, I know as much as that. But what you didn’t realize is that I always expect to win. But no worry, we shall have no malice between us, will we? I am not my uncle by any means, and I rather like you and your spoiled husband. It will be fun.
Assai Amoroso,
Pascal
"The only way to get rid of temptation is to give in to it." –Oscar Wilde
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