Double Cross - 6. Chapter 6

“C’mon. RiverGlow is starting.”

Dee pulled Jamie forward and Blaine recaptured Trisha’s hand. Those two skipped ahead, two pretty gay boys prancing along a the river’s edge.

“You’ll see a canopy for us on the left.” Dee called out.

Jamie was distracted by the spectacle on the river as they walked along. The bonfires he’d seen were not on the water’s edge as he had thought. They instead were in pyres placed in the center of the river. The fragrant wood filled the night air and the flames glinted on the water’s gentle surface.

Dee tugged his hand to pull him a short way up the embankment. He saw ahead a canopy erected, the drapes pulled aside so that its interior was visible. Trisha and Blaine were already inside sharing a low divan.

“This looks like some sort of sultan’s tent.”

Dee kicked her shoes off and dropped onto some massive silken pillows. “Close enough. Come play Salome for me Jamie.”

Stepping out of his shoes, Jamie moved forward. Dee captured his hand, drawing him down in front of her. “Gracefully, now.”

Jamie knelt in front of Dee, barely aware of Blaine and Trisha watching from their elevated position on the divan. Dee stroked his face, and with a slight pressure, pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him, captured his lips. She sucked at them, parted them, but did not enter. He breathed shallowly, shakily.

“Very nice.” The words were whispered against his lips and he was pulled further down. Instead of facing Dee, however, he found himself between her legs, reclining against her chest. The position gave him a view of the river with its burning pyres. Her arms came around him, he felt her breasts snug against his back. “Make yourself comfortable. The next hour will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”

“What is this?” Above him, Trish asked the question. She was stretched out with Blaine, his arms circling her much as Dee did him.

“It’s called RiverGlow. It’s a performance art piece.”

Jamie watched the fire burn on the water. Below them, others walked along the waters edge and he could see other canopies, people seated on blankets, along the side of the river. There was something enchanting about the fire, the glittering water, the crackle of the burning wood. The crowd was unusually quiet and from a distance not too far he heard the beginning notes of Handel’s Rodelinda.

He relaxed further, enjoying the sight and the music. Small boats moved silently up and down the river, some were themselves performance pieces piloted by boatsmen wearing carnival masks. Others carried wood to replenish the pyres along the river, the vessels and their occupants darkened so as to move unobtrusively through the water and fire.

The four of them watched silently, each in their own thoughts or not thinking at all, simply enjoying the RiverGlow. In time, he felt Dee’s lips on the back of his neck, nuzzling under the short curls of hair. He relaxed further, floating now, her arms pulling him further into the pillows.

His eyes remained on the flames dancing on the water as her fingers worked their way around to the front of the dress, undoing one, then two, then three buttons. Then she was pushing it off his shoulders once again exposing the skin of his shoulders the thin straps of the satiny bra cupping his chest.

He was there, ready, growing big under the skirt. Her lips traced around to the side of his neck, and his head lolled back against Dee’s shoulder. His breathing quickened, deepened, hips moving anxiously, needily. He moaned. No, not him. Dee. No, not her either.

Turning his head, he saw Blaine and Trish locked in a deep kiss. Both had discarded their jackets and shirts and were pressed against each other, bare chested. Urgent, hungry sounds emitted from them both. Dee pushed him forward, pulled the dress off his arms. “Take it off” she whispered.

He undid the last of the buttons and removed it completely, so that he was now lying exposed in only the silk stockings, knickers and bra. If any of the people along the water’s edge looked upward they would seem him laid out, girled, sexed in the slinky lingerie. He was stiff in the tight panties, the head of his cock slickening a spot in the front. His hand moved towards himself.

“No.” Dee grasped his wrist, gently pulled his arm away. “That’s mine.”

She moved her hand around him, over him, squeezed him through the snug satin, teased the tip with her fingers. He whimpered.

“That’s my girl. I want to hear you, want to hear all those gasping, seeking moans. Don’t hold those back.”

She moved her hands up, covered the cups of the bra circling his chest. He watched as she squeezed. Her arms and legs circled him, held his nearly nude body snuggly against her fully clothed one. “Please, Dee.”

The words were thin, barely audible even to himself. She heard him though, murmured in his ear. “Please what, sweetheart? “

A hand slid into the cup of his bra, pinched and rolled a nipple. “Tell me what you want. You’re laid out here for me. What do you want from me?”

I want you in me, he thought. He wanted to be possessed by her. Taken. He shook his head, strained in her arms, hips once again moving, seeking.

“Please” he said again. She turned him, brought him fully alongside her, angled him for a kiss. He opened his mouth under hers, the movement needy and begging and she answered, thrusting her tongue into him, covering him with her body. They kissed, explored each other’s body for long minutes. Jamie ran his stocking clad legs along hers, feeling the slide of the silk against her slacks.

The cool air came as a shock as she pushed him away. Dee stood, momentarily a solid shadow over him and then she was moving around the edges of the canopy, dropping the gauzy sides, enclosing the four of them inside the shelter.

Jamie turned looked over at Trisha and Blaine, saw that they had almost completely undressed. Blaine was astride Trisha’s hips and she was bucking, grinding against him. Then Dee was before him again and he watched her strip away her clothes. Her skin was smooth, torso curving, legs sloped; the lines of her body were tight but not muscular.

She looked down at him, dropped a small packet onto his chest. “Put it on.”

She bent, pulling the knickers down his legs, over the stockings. He pulled at the foil packet with his teeth, covered himself and then she was on him, doing him, pulling more of those aching, pleading moans from his lips.

Sensations multiplied. The scent of the burning wood, the sounds from his own lips, the panting breathing of his wife and Blain on the divan, Dee’s intense eyes, her soft skin, the grinding thrust of her hips over his. He rose to meet her and she fell forward, capturing his mouth, kissing, then holding herself just over him. “Come for me, my girl. No, don’t turn your head. I want to see those eyes, so nicely made up. I want to see those lipstick red lips. I want you to come, want to feel my girl coming under me.”

He jerked, stiffened and then he was coming, emptying himself fully, giving himself to her. She smiled, felt the uncontrolled thrusting of his body, and joined him murmuring her appreciation into his ear.

They slept then, heavily, Dee having drawn a thin covering over them. When he awoke it was still dark. He was warm and he realized Trish and Blain had joined them in the nest of silk pillows on the floor of the tented enclosure. Trisha’s warm body was spooned up against his back while Blaine was on the other side of Dee.

He shifted, drew Trisha into the crook of his arm. She lazily drew a leg across him, crooked at the knee, her bare skin sliding against the silk stockings he still wore. Jamie drifted back to sleep feeling at once protective and protected.